There was a long moment of silence before Cade responded. “Me too, Rio. Me too.”
Chapter Fourteen
A month later
Rio frowned at the computer, gah, how the fuck did one order clothes down here? It wasn’t as if he could just take a spin into town and go shopping. Amazon? Did Amazon deliver to dormant volcanoes? Cade and most of Ghost Team Alpha were out on a job. They had left two weeks ago. Rio had gotten to know most of the other people who worked in this location. From dispatches and intel that had come into the War - Room, he knew that Cade was working somewhere in the Middle East.
“We have a helo going across the border for some supplies tomorrow.” Harper called from her desk farther down the row from Rio. “Anyone want anything?”
Chopper? Across the border? That would do.“Can we go, or just give a list?”
“I have a weekend R&R,” Selene called, “My mom is moving to a new house. I don’t see why you can’t come.”
Passport? “I don’t have a passport.” Rio scowled as the thought popped into his head.
“You’re a Ghost now, Rio,” Harper chimed back in, “Sure, you haven’t had the plastic surgery and stuff to change your face, but as a Ghost we land at a secure air strip, no customs.”
“Am I meant to have the surgery before I leave here?” Rio tried to remember what had been written on the contract he had signed with Rock and Grif, just before they had left for Afghanistan. Maybe he should clear it with Cade if he checked in later. He looked at the screen on the wall behind him. His eyes went to the top right-hand corner where the timer for the next check in counted down. Fuck, it was over twenty-four hours.
“Did Cade check in?” he asked Selene.
“No, Rock did about an hour ago.”
Fuck. What should he do? Argh, he really needed clothes. He couldn’t keep wearing someone else’s boxers, even if they were Cade’s. There were just some things a man should have of his own. Underwear topped that list.
“You can go,” Harper decided. “It’s San Diego, not Mexico. You don’t know anyone in California… right?”
“Not that I know of.” Damn it, he really wanted to go. If someone checked in before that chopper left, he was asking if it was okay for his butt to be on it. If not, then he would just have to decide when the time came.
* * *
Rio squeezed his eyes shut. Who the actual fuck had told him this was a good idea? Oh yeah, that’s right, he himself was the dumbass. He had decided at the last second to go to San Diego, which is how he found himself strapped into the “hurricane seat” of a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter.
Why the fuck had he thought a ride in a Blackhawk would be a thrill? He regretted not taking the time to talk to Cade or Rock. He was an idiot. He was going to tell anyone who listened that if they ever got the opportunity to ride in a Blackhawk with the doors open, do not ever, ever sit in the far-right back seat.
Riding in one of the finest machines ever made by Sikorsky had some incredible aerodynamics, which converged inside the cabin. The forces made sure the person—aka him, aka the world’s biggest idiot—sitting in this single seat felt the full thrust of the chopper’s main rotor blade with what the pilot told him were wind gusts at over 160 mph blasting him in a full frontal assault. He was going to kill Selene. Every time he managed to open his eyes he could see her laughing at him.
It was official, he was stuck in a mini tornado, being hammered by gale-force winds, and if someone said the invisible man didn’t exist, they were lying as Rio was sure the fucker was punching him in the face. Every breath he managed to take required more effort than it should have. Keeping his eyes open was almost impossible. If he could, he would have released his death grip on the sides of the seat to wipe his nose, which ran uncontrollably as pulsating, unseen forces cleared out his sinuses. Selene was the most horrid person on the planet for allowing him to suffer alone through this misery while she was busy taking scenic aerial photos on her cell phone, looking like a gentle breeze flew around her.
“Two minutes to LZ.” the pilot’s voice sounded in his headset, his voice a mix of laughter and relief.
Oh Fuckballs, was I screaming?The rawness in his throat told him he probably had been, well that would have been an interesting flight for them, then.
As soon as the Blackhawk landed, Rio barely waited for the shuddering to slow before he ripped open the straps that had secured him to the seat and stumbled off the bird. He landed on his knees outside the helo. It would look weird if he kissed the ground like the pope, right?
“Come on.” Selene helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry.” She steadied him and led him across the tarmac, the pilot had called a landing zone to a truck. “I should have warned you.”
“Hey, dude?” the pilot called behind them, “Thanks for the inflight entertainment. It’s been a while since we had a soundtrack that isn’t cannons or RPG’s.”
Can the ground open up and swallow me whole? Please?“You are welcome.” Rio called back over his shoulder. “Can we shut the doors on the way back?”
“What doors?” Selene asked, “We don’t have doors on that one.” She jumped into the driver's seat of the truck and fired the engine. “Want me to drop you at your hotel or at the mall?”
“Mall, please.” Rio wanted everything done. If he got anywhere near a hotel room, he was going to soak in the damn hot tub he’d booked in the adjoining bathroom in his room.
“You got it.”
* * *
