Mack pulled a small handheld radio from the man’s belt and held it up for the man to speak.
“Hawkeye, the virus has been destroyed. Over.”
“Raven, Hawkeye received message. Over.”
“Hawkeye, instructions for disposal needed. Over.”
The radio crackled. “Incineration recommended. Transportation is waiting. Verification required. Over.”
“Roger,” the man said staring hard at Mack the whole time.
They were talking in some kind of code, but Marley had a feeling that Mack’s team was the virus.
Mack spoke again, his lips stretched into an evil smile. “So Mankel wants to destroy all the evidence?”
The guy’s eyes drifted shut and his features slipped into tired resignation. “Look, man, I’m just a grunt. Follow orders, get paid, that’s it. Just like you.”
Marley hissed, her hackles rising in defense. This man was about as close to Mack and his team as a viper was to fox.
“I’m not done with you yet. On your feet.” Mack fisted the front of the man’s shirt and yanked him to his feet with a violent jerk. Then he shoved him in Merc’s direction. Marley blinked, realizing Mack’s entire team had formed an intimidating wall behind them.
Merc wrapped an arm the size of the tree trunk around the man’s neck and flexed his big bicep. The assassin kicked his fingers, clawing into Merc’s arm with no success. Merc had a good foot on the man, not to mention at least fifty pounds of pure muscle. Marley had the feeling that if Merc squeezed his arm tight enough, he’d snap the man’s neck.
And a big part of her wanted him to. She wanted vengeance on the man who was part of this sick conspiracy. Even if he hadn’t threatened her daughter directly, his men certainly had. They’d ruined her chance with Mack. She stared with the sick sort of fascination as the man’s face turned purple and his eyes popped.
Suddenly, Merc loosened his grip, and the man choked and gasped and gagged as he fought for air.
“Looks like you’re going to be hanging out with me, friend.”
The man still couldn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. The raw power emanating from Merc was enough to subdue a herd of elephants. He could crush the assassin with his fist and not think twice about it.
Mack stood and dusted off his knees. Then he wiped his blade down his pants, and said, “Where are you supposed to rendezvous for extraction?”
The man didn’t even try to put up a front this time. “Airfield, two klicks north. Helo waiting.”
“Good thing we brought our pilot then.”
Marley blanched. She was trained to fly C-130s, not Black Hawks; she didn’t know the first thing about flying helicopters.
Aaron stepped forward and saluted. “Ready and waiting, Sir.”
Thank God. She didn’t want to let the team down again. Or Mack. But what about her daughter? Ramsey had sent her a picture from her parents’ backyard. Maddie could still be in danger. The team was gearing up and falling in line, getting ready to march out. Marley steeled her resolve and grabbed Mack’s arm, not letting go this time when he looked at her like a bug crawling beneath his foot. “Mack, what about Maddie?
He blinked as if just now bringing her into focus.
Had he forgotten? Did he not care?
Mack pulled free of her grip and went back to the assassin. He quickly patted him down and yanked a small gray phone from the man’s pocket. “Sat phone.”
She watched as Mack quickly punched in a series of numbers and held the device to his ear. “Tomahawk.” He waited.
Marley’s heart hammered in her chest.
“Susie Q had a date with Tom Thumb. She ate his palm,” Mack said into the phone.
The rest of the men of Mack’s team stood still and silent as the trees around them, their expressions not giving away one hint of their thoughts.
“K, we hit a snag in our transport, but we’re moving again. We will be en-route to target by sunrise.”
