I spotted two empty bottles of liquor beside Wes and another clutched in his hand. "He has to come willingly."
"That's not going to work but I'm excited to see you try," Jordan replied. "When you've run out of breath, I'll knock him over the head with one of those bottles and we'll toss him in the jeep."
Before we could argue our strategy further, Wes called from the sand, "You fuckers chipped me, didn't you?"
"In my defense, I did it expecting the FSB to snatch you off the street," Jordan shouted. "I was trying to make the job easier in the event we had to find your ass again. That's where it is, by the way. Left cheek."
"And what the fuck are you two doing here?"
"We're thinking about buying the joint," Jordan replied. "Volcanic exclusion zones are perfect for special ops training grounds."
"And we came to talk," I said. "If you don't mind."
"Sir, yes, sir," he snapped.
"That's a great fuckin' sign," Jordan muttered.
We closed the distance between the trail and Wes, dropping down onto the sand beside him.
"You are sunburnt as fuck." Jordan pointed at Wes's bare chest. "I know you've been in Russia a long time but you do realize the sun will fry your ass down here, right? That's gonna hurt somethin' fierce tomorrow."
"You sound like Mama Trish right now," I murmured. "Did you say hi to your mother for me?"
"I did not." Jordan snickered. "Mama Trish would grab this sorry fool by the ear and drag him home for a cold tea bath. I will be doing neither, thank you."
Wes lifted his arm, a long, leathery scar traveling from wrist to elbow. The scar glowed pinkish-white while the rest of his arm was red verging on purple. "I hadn't noticed," he replied. "This is fine. Everything is fine."
"Can I ask why you felt the volcano-ravaged side of an island was the best place to vacation?" Jordan glanced around. "I can appreciate the desire for peace and quiet, especially after being at Halsted's house for more than ten minutes, but this is downright primitive."
"Just wanted to get away from all that shit," he said. "After my last few months on the job, I had a vacation coming to me."
"That's why you're here?" I asked. "Post-mission leave?"
"I still can't believe I was kicked out of the CIA," Wes grumbled, fully avoiding the opening I gave him to talk about Tom. This fool only wanted to do it the most difficult way. "Afteryearsof that fuckery."
I turned my face to the sun and rolled my eyes.
"I can't believe you're surprised," Jordan said. "We told you this would happen when you left the SEAL Teams for that intelligence community alphabet soup outfit. Any program that far off the books ends badly for the operatives and you should know—"
"You should consider this warning a friendly courtesy," Wes said, edging his sunglasses down to glare at Jordan. "Because if you go on with that bullshit, I'm gonna drag your ass into the ocean and waterboard you."
And because Jordan had no fucking sense whatsoever, he replied, "It's the truth, brother."
I flattened a hand to Wes's chest, keeping him on the sand. "Listen," I started, glaring at my business partner, "it shouldn't have gone down this way. You know it and they know it. You also know these agencies cover asses first and look after operatives later. At the end of the day, even the best of them burn out. And the ones they keep? They get desk jobs where they're buried in fuckin' paperwork and red tape and bureaucratic bullshit. You'd sooner waterboard yourself than choose that life."
He gathered a handful of sand and let it slide through his fingers. "You're probably right about that."
"Of course we're right," Jordan replied. "Why don't you come head up our new espionage team? If we're going to buy the pumice stone side of this island, we need someone to get our spycraft house up and running."
Wes let out a hard laugh. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life teaching mercenaries how to throw knives."
"First of all, brother, they come to us with a full complement of knife-throwing skills," Jordan said. "We don't dedicate a minute to that noise. Second, and no disrespect, but the last thing we'd use you for is hand-to-hand combat training."
"Not when we have April," I added.
"This is true," Jordan replied with a nod.
Wes glared at us for a beat, eventually asking, "Where did you find her?"
