The enlisted man snaps a salute, and the other returns one, more suited to a man of rank.
“At ease, son.” Shaking hands, he introduces himself as General Young.
After addressing the two intelligence men by first names, his piercing blue eyes find Slate’s. “Alexander, nice to see you.”
The taciturn man shoots him a rare smile. “Pat, how’re the girls?”
“Fine, fine.” Motioning for us to sit, the older gent reads a briefing, then scowls. “Y’all better have a damn fine reason for pissing off the Mexicans. Otherwise, I may throw your carcasses back across the river. It says here a pissed off cargo pilot is demanding compensation.”
My metal chair scrapes across the linoleum as I stand. “I’ll be happy to cover any damages.”
Before the general can respond, Landy pops up. “I’ll pay you back.”
Bloody hell, no. We are not going to have this conversation here.“My bounty investigations started this mess, so-”
Rapping his knuckles on the tabletop, Young interrupts us. “How about someone starts at the beginning and explains why the hell the president woke me up in the middle of the night and insisted we meet?”
Suds opens his mouth, but the quick-thinking Lanita leans over and places a fingertip over his lips. “Not you. I want to leave Texas sometime this century.”
The general might not know of his reputation, so I explain. “My friend Sebastian has a rambling problem. With your permission, I’d be happy to start.”
“Well, someone better.” Grimacing, the top-brass leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his wide chest.
“I triggered this nightmare, it should be me.” My gorgeous fiancé pleads through her big brown eyes. Curious as to what caused her to cock-up, I park my arse and give her the floor.
“Go ahead. Be my guest.”
Ignoring my glower, she takes a deep breath, and sits. “Two nights ago, I got a call from a biker friend who asked me to pilot a plane to Mexico.”
“And you agreed?” The general shifts forward, places his elbows on the table, and deepens his already impressive scowl.
“Not at first, sir, but he kidnapped my cat and threatened to hurt him.” Suddenly recalling our little buddy, she turns to me. “Is he okay?”
Suds butts in and says, “Sam rescued him. Other than agreeing to a duel at dawn, he’s fine.”
“Pistols?” As relief spreads across her face, the southern SEAL winks.
“Nope, claws.”
Young’s patience snaps. “Excuse me, this is not ‘America’s got Talent’ and I’m not amused.”
“Sorry, sir. Moishe’s more like family. I couldn’t let The Renegades kill him. Why, he even saved our lives.”
“Ms. Manuel, how about you explain why you stole a cargo plane and involved Homeland Security?”
In his comfort zone, my pal smirks. “Jes’ relax and let them words flow from your subconscious, darlin’.”
“She doesn’t need rambling lessons, prat. Pipe down and let her talk.” While I glare at the long-winded man who’s brought grown men to tears, Landy clears her throat.
“I’m sorry, sir, I’ll do better.” Pausing, she braces her shaking palms on the table. “The bikers said all I had to do is drop off some cargo and return home.”
“And you believed them?” The inquisitor’s accusatory tone makes hers rise an octave.
“Well of course not, but when they threatened to kill a poor, defenseless kitty, I had no choice.”
My hand over my mouth, I hide my snicker. Moishe is many things but never a victim.
“So, you put your life on the line for a cat. Fascinating. Please continue.” The man’s sarcasm makes me believe he’s never had a pet.
