“What’s with the group of signatures?” Cash asked.
“Hang on.” Parker disappeared from the screen briefly. “I have a search running. You’ll have the video feed part of the time you’re in transit and again shortly after you land.” He looked over to the side. “Boss, you’re not going to like this.”
“What?” Westin asked.
“Reports are coming in that a group of girls was taken three days ago from a school close to the clinic Emme was grabbed from.”
Sugar and Winters started talking at once, saying the same thing — they had to rescue the girls, they couldn’t leave them there.
Panic built low in Jordan’s chest. No diversions. He understood their outrage, but Emme was the mission. The priority.
“Stop,” Westin ordered. “Parker, who’s in the area?”
“Hang on,” he slid off screen again.
“What about Delta?” Rocco asked.
“They’re not available.”
Parker slid back into view. “Leonidas has a team in Niger.”
“Contact them. See if they can support.”
“On it.”
“Make sure everything is available on the plane.” Westin looked at his watch. “Wheels up in thirty-minutes. We need to get Jordan kitted-out and load up. Make sure we have a schematic of the compound and overview of surround areas — electro-optical and infrared.”
“Did you bring personal weapons?” Sugar asked Jordan.
He looked down at her. “Yes.”
“Let me see ‘em.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t argue if I were you,” Cash said. “You’ll lose.”
He sighed, but picked up his weapons case off the floor, laid it on the table, and thumbed the combination. After snapping the lid open, he stepped to the side.
Sugar pushed in the hinge pins of his M-4 and cracked the stock open. After a quick field check and functions check, she laid it back down and inspected his Glocks. Shaking his head, he watched her handle his weapons like a pro. He should know by now not to underestimate a woman. Bree and Denise had proved that.
She stopped, gun gripped in one hand, slide held back with the other. “What?”
He shook his head again. “Nothing. Just thinking I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”
“How’s that?” She released the slide and set the gun down.
“Well.” He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “You look like you should be on the cover of a retro pinup girl calendar, not on the cover ofGuns and Ammo.”
“Who says I’m not on both?” She winked.
“Quit flirting, Sugar,” Westin said, without looking away from the monitor he was working at.
“Spoil sport,” she quipped. “Come on, hot stuff. Let’s get you some ammo and gear.” He followed her down the stairs, to a chain link gate that divided the far side of the hangar into a storage area. Metal lockers lined the wall and she opened several, revealing row upon row of guns and various other weapons. Pulling out several drawers of an industrial sized tool box, she pulled out ammo and magazines.
“Take what you need. Minimum full combat load. The way these boys go in, I’d take more if I were you. What size vest do you wear?”
“Huh?” He felt like Arnold Schwarzenegger inCommandowhen he broke into the gun store. All that was missing was the RPG launcher. Nope, there it was.
