“Three, what does fuck mean today?” Castello growled.
“Hang on a second, Boss, I just need to verify something.”
Okay then, verified intel was better than taking a wag at it. Wild Ass Guesses rarely worked out well. Now that they had the drone on site, and Sawyer was monitoring the situation at the illegal mine, Castello flipped up his night vision goggles and looked at his second in command. “What ya think, Zack?”
“I think this op is a load of balls, and the flies are damn cannibals,” Zack muttered. The former Navy Seal was a pain in Castello’s ass. He made him crazy with his stubborn attitude and bounced ideas off him like nobody’s business. Part Native American, he blended in well for undercover roles in the Middle East, which in their jobs gave them one hell of an advantage. He spoke multiple languages and was hell on wheels in combat. There was no man Castello would rather have fight at his side.
“Lynx One, this is Three.”After what seemed like hours but in reality was less than five minutes, Sage finally called out for Castello’s attention again, “Do you copy?”
“Go ahead, Three.”
“Boss, that patch is for Hell’s Eagles in Florida.”
Castello could tell from the tone of Sage’s voice that the intel he had given was supposed to mean something to him. He shook his head as if the movement would shake the intel free from wherever it was hiding in his brain, but nope… nada… he had nothing, “Why should I care?”
“It’s Panther Six’s club.”
Shit,Panther Six was Griffin St. Clare, former Delta Force Team Panther’s medic. Grif now worked for another Government agency, although Castello didn’t know for sure which one. Rumor on the Special Forces gossip
train was Griffin St. Clare was a Ghost. “Reach out to him.”
“On it.”
“Four, this is One,” Castello called out to Sawyer, “How are we looking down there?”
“They are asking him about blowing up the bridge.”
“Shit.” Castello winced. Earlier today Sawyer, Rafe, and Connor had blown up the only bridge leading from this hell hole valley out onto what passed as a road. They had been hoping to delay the shipment of diamonds from leaving. Was their intel incorrect? Relying on terrorized locals wasn’t always the most, well, reliable. These people had families to protect. They didn’t dare cross the Lord's Resistance Army. Helping foreigners, especially US Military, that could be a death sentence not only for them, but for anyone connected to them.
“Lynx One, this is Drone Controller.”
“Go ahead, Four.” If Sawyer had been next to him, Castello would have swatted him upside the head. Had he not figured out yet that he could not change his tag name? He was Lynx Four. He could just freaking deal.
“They are stashing him in a hut until the Boss flies in tomorrow.”
Sawyer passed on the information he was picking up from the drone.
“Roger that, Four,” Castello frowned, but then clicked on his coms unit again, “Keep the drone in place if it’s safe to do so,” he told Sawyer, “Let’s see what happens.”
“Copy, Sir.”
“Lynx One, this is Three.”Sage’s voice had Castello clicking the communication device again.
“Go ahead, Three.”
“Panther Six requests that we, and I quote, ‘pull his idiot brother’sass out of the fire and bring him home.’”
Fuckballs! Castello could not ignore a request from Delta Force Team Panther. Only a few short months ago, Panthers had saved his son Rourke when he got tangled up with Russians over a freaking video game. “Tell Panther Six, that’s an affirmative.”
“Roger that, Sir.”
Castello signaled to the men with him to fall back. If they were going to rescue this dude, then they needed to plan.
***
“Tell me what you got on this dude,” Castello’s boots crunched on the
clay as he crossed the red dirt toward Sage. His comms guy had his computers set up under a tarp on the back of an open bed pickup truck they had ‘borrowed’ from a bunch of assholes they had stumbled upon a few days ago. Bastards who tried to kidnap little girls to sell on the black market didn’t deserve nice shit, like trucks and life. Often their orders prevented Castello and his team from interfering in the happenings of the local people. But kiddos—those were his line in the sand and Castello refused to let one die or be hurt if he could prevent it. Too many times he’d had to do the unthinkable and make calls on the field that still gave him nightmares. Saving the kids he could, allowed him to tell his inner hero that he was doing everything possible to be a decent human.
