Celebrating, we hardly notice the appearance of uniformed soldiers who usher us away from the disaster site. Walking along the gashed tarmac, we pass silver pieces of the Lear’s fuselage. In front of a shuttle bus, I turn and gasp at the plane's missing underbelly.
Holy fuck. It’s amazing we survived.
Inside the vehicle with the rest of the team, I let out my breath, but when we pass the terminal, adrenaline once again races through my veins.
“Where are they taking us?” Axel points to Rhonda, already tapping the driver on the shoulder.
They speak for a moment in what sounds like Russian, then she returns to her seat. “They’re taking us to the U.S. Embassy.”
“And Ledbetter?” he asks.
The redhead types into her phone, and frowns. “The Lithuanian Police Department has detained him for questioning and resisting outside interference.”
Chapter 29
“You can’t “Throw me to the wolves” – They come when I call.” ~Holly Knight
Axel
Done talking to the man behind the wheel, Rhonda plops down in the seat behind us, opens her vest, and grabs a nutrient bar. “Might as well relax. The embassy’s over an hour away.”
“Perfect.” Gwen nestles into my chest, closes her eyes, and within minutes, snores lightly.
After I adjust my arm for her comfort, I breathe in her scent, shocked at how fast my cock turns to steel. All I want to do is find a bedroom and make love deep inside her until she understands how much she means to me.
We drive past hundreds of nondescript white and gray multi-level rectangular buildings with rows of windows. Some of the taller ones have tiny balconies. Around these depressing residences, lie precisely-cut grass areas. Further into the city, we stop at a red light. On the sidewalk to my right, bent bodies carry heavy shopping bags by the handles and shuffle across the street.
Our bus slows at a gatehouse situated alongside six-foot graffiti-covered cement walls. Inside, I’m reminded of Oz. Although no purple horses can be found, the courtyard contains colorfully dressed people talking and laughing while rushing between edifices.
“Gwen, wake up.” I tickle her side, her lashes flutter open, and when her gaze meets mine, I kiss her soft lips.
As I picture all the positions of the Kama Sutra, our vehicle lurches to a stop in front of a stone, red-tiled mansion fronted by a trio of Roman columns. A US Marine confiscates our weapons and assures us that all will be returned once we have debriefed.
“No fucking way.” When Trever tugs on his tablet and refuses to let go, the rest of us come to his aid. The intel on his computer could send us to Guantanamo for several lifetimes.
We’re about to be arrested, or shot, or both, when a bald man wearing a designer suit races down the marble steps. “You will allow him to pass.”
“I have my orders, Mr. Ambassador.” The dignitary’s imperial hand shoves a piece of paper at the marine who reads it, pales, and allows us to proceed.
Then, single-file, flanked by soldiers, our small army follows the well-dressed man through a side door. Our footsteps echo on the parquet flooring as we trot past gilded frames containing quality portraits and landscapes. An occasional oak door tells of the true nature of the otherwise museum-like façade.
After climbing to the third floor, we enter a modern conference room. A middle-aged man in a drab suit introduces himself as Mr. Smith. Judging from his name and how his eyes size up our group, I’m guessing he’s CIA.
The envoy who met us at the door insists we call him, Peter.
“Ms. Jane Worthington, Europol.” After shaking hands, a pin-striped, gray-haired woman crosses her arms, and scowls.
Once introductions are finished, we all sit except for the five SEALS. As they lean against the dark paneling, the lights dim, and a Zoom screen pops up on the wall.
My supervisor, Kaplan, scowls in the top right corner. His face says it all. If I’m lucky, I’ll be writing my resume. Otherwise, me and my team could be facing charges.
Suds snickers behind me. “Y’all know how to throw a party. Where’s the peanuts and beer?”
He and his Patten pals can afford to laugh. Their jobs are not in jeopardy. At the end of this soiree, the rest of us could be out on our asses.
I can’t let that happen and stand. “Before this meeting begins, I would like to take full responsibility for-”
“Stop right there.” The vice president’s image pops up and fills the screen. “Nothing happened today. Are we clear?”
