Gunnar nodded and stepped around him. He winced when he spotted the man Marco had taken out. “Zipper, this is Grizzly, how copy?”
“Grizzly, Zipper, go ahead.”
“I’m sending you a photo. Do not let my woman see it.”
“Hah, I knew it,” Remi teased. “She’s in the john. Send it.”
Gunnar turned his body camera on what remained of the asshole’s face. “ID that bastard, and tell me where I’m hunting.” He rubbed at the duct tape Tyrone had covered his wound with. It would hurt like a motherfucker pulling that off later, but better than having an infection to deal with. Turning to Levi, he jerked his thumb in the tango’s direction. “Nemo, do a full kit on him. Someone somewhere knows who he is. I…” he jabbed at his chest, “I want to know if he’s connected to that fucking list.”
“Roger that, Sir.” Levi swung his ruck around, pulled out his DNA kit, and got to work.
“Grizzly, Zipper.”
“Go ahead, Zipper. Tell me you know who the asshole is?”
“Now you know it doesn’t work like it does in the movies.” Remi snorted. “I’m running him through the databases. Are you clear to move?”
He checked on Levi’s progress. “Ready to move in five.”
“Roger. Check in through the usual protocols.” In other words, Remi was going to search somewhere he probably shouldn’t have access to.
Thank fuck he’s on our side, or the good side of the line would be so screwed.
“Affirmative.” Gunnar checked his guys, nodded, and gave the order, “Move out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jorja flushedthe toilet and went to the sink to wash her hands. She grabbed the bottle of mouthwash and poured some into her mouth, swishing it around. She didn’t even care who it belonged to at this point. It was better than the taste of vomit. Logically, she knew there was a chance of people getting hurt. It was a whole different ball game seeing someone you knew get hit with a bullet on body camera footage.
“And this is why I look for antiques and not terrorists.” She took a second to wash out the cap of the mouthwash. Every second counted in restoring her nerves before going back out to the war-room. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Remi reassured her. “It’s a rough job at times, and not for the faint-hearted.”
“You can say that twice.”
“It’s a rough?—”
“Not literally.” She’d figured out sometimes Remi took what was said literally. But that was okay, she did it too, especially when she was tired or her caffeine hadn’t had time to kick in yet.
“Ah—”
“Don’t worry about it.” She grabbed some water from the fridge. “I do it too at times. Do you want water or Monster?”
“Black Monster, please.” He held out his hand but kept his eyes on the screen. “It tastes like sour jellies.”
She peered at the black cans. “I like sour jellies.” She took a second can for herself and placed a bottle of water next to Remi’s keyboard. “There, if we have water we can tell ourselves we are being somewhat healthy.”
“Good thinking.” Remi popped the tab on his can. “Gunnar is always bitching that I have too much caffeine and not enough water.” He lifted his hands off the keyboard and wriggled his fingers. “But these things are fueled by Monster and coffee, not water.”
“Keep a bottle on the table. He won’t know the difference.” She sipped from her can. “And you’re right, these do taste like sour gummies. I like it.”
They grinned at each other and went back to work, Remi keeping a close eye on the guys and his databases, and Jorja searching for a link to connect the orders for the missions and the list together. She kept her eyes averted from Remi’s screens. She didn’t want to have to heave up her stomach contents again today. Once was quite enough, thank you.
Boots on the ground means something totally different when I know the people filling those boots.
When Remi had to move away from his desk and hit the speaker, she heard Gunnar’s voice come over the wire. Her heart jumped.
It’s the Monster. Maybe I should stop drinking it. Is it like Red Bull, with so much caffeine it can cause a heart attack if you have too much?
