Despite the seriousness of the situation, Gunnar grinned. Jorja wanted to keep him in one piece. He freaking loved that. Way too often, the woman in his life had been the one who wanted him dead. “Roger that, Zipper. Alternate route it is.”
“Copy.”
Gunnar liked that Remi didn’t waste words. He’d be busy making sure everyone’s maps were updated to the route he thought they should take. Once that was complete, Gunnar knew he’d take another look at the route they had been on to see if anything popped up that they needed to be aware of.
There was something about this place. Not just the country, but this mountain range which was the source of some of his worst nightmares and some of his biggest triumphs, which unsettled him. Gunnar shook it off; now was not the time. His only focus needed to be getting the hostages back and getting them and his men to safety.
Talon and Zombie once again took point with Gunnar not far behind them as they diverted off to the northwest.
“I think Zipper just wants to see the sights through our body cams,” Colt muttered softly. He took the arm Gunnar offered and hauled himself up over the rocks blocking their way. “Easy ruck, my left nut.”
“Right?” he grumbled and stepped back, allowing Colt room to move. “I’m kicking his ass the second my boots hit the front door.”
“I’ll hold him for you,” Marco agreed softly as they slid into formation and kept moving forward.
Gunnar felt the burn across the side of his hip just under his vest before he heard the retort of the gunfire. “Ouch, fuck.” He’d managed ten freaking years in special ops without a fucking scratch from a mission. Here he was in Black Ops as a damn contractor, and his last two missions, he’d earned lead. If someone up there was telling him to retire, could they just stop it already? It was way too freaking early to pull the plug. He ducked and rolled into cover, knowing the rest of his team were doing the same thing, covering their asses until they could figure out where that fucker was shooting from.
“You good, Griz?” Tyrone sprinted across the open ground, exposing himself to enemy fire and kicking up dust as he landed next to him.
“Pissed, and I have another fucking ouch, but I’ll live.” Gunnar pulled his hand away from the spot and showed him there was no blood on his fingers. He tapped comms. “Someone find me where that bastard is, stat.” All around him bullets pinged off the rocks. Whoever the sniper was, he’d picked a good spot to pin him down.
“Got him,” Marco said. “Permission to pop this cazzone in the ass?”
“Granted.” Like he was going to say no.
Almost immediately to his left he heard the distinctive sound of Marco’s Heckler and Kock fire. Then silence spread around them as they waited to see if the sniper fired again. “Got him, Boss.”
“Copy that.”
“Remain in place, Grizzly,” Talon ordered. “Zombie is going in.”
“Good thinking, Lego,” he replied. “Waiting on your word.”
“Copy.”
“Let me see that wound.”
“I’m fine, it just took a few pubes off me.” Even though he grumbled, Gunnar still shifted his vest to show Tyrone his side. “Slap a bit of duct tape on it. I’ll deal with it later.”
“Grizzly, Lego, tango confirmed KIA,” Talon said. “Zombie’s body language says we’re clear for now.”
Thank fuck.
“Roger that, Lego. On my way.” He smacked at Tyrone’s hands and got to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“Two seconds to slap this on you,” Tyrone ordered, “or I swear I’m telling your woman when we get back that you were a fucking dumbass.” He ripped open a gauze strip, folded it into the center of a piece of duct tape, squeezed some ointment in a line along the gauze, and pressed it over the wound. “There. I even gave you duct tape, just like you asked for. Good luck getting that off without feeling like your balls are getting hot-waxed.”
“Asshole.”
“Pretty much.” Tyrone stuffed the tape and gauze back into his med kit and followed him out of cover. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
“I’m paying you?” Gunnar widened his eyes and glared at his medic. “Are you shittin’ me?”
“Yup. I even got a pretty contract and all.”
This was how they dealt with a close call. Tyrone’s snark more than anything telling him the wound he couldn’t see under his armor wasn’t much more than a scratch. They scrambled up the rocks to where Talon and Zombie waited for them.
“Back there, Grizz.” Talon pointed over his shoulder.
