Yes, a weapon, thank fuck.Rick took the gun Saxon gave him and automatically checked it was loaded. “I fucking love you.” There was nothing worse than for a man who wore weapons like a second skin to have none. Rick guessed it was similar to feeling like being naked in church, not that he was ever gonna try that one.
“Told you he was yours.” The man who had been locking the room door behind them grinned at Saxon over Rick’s shoulder.
Saxon’s? I’d like to be, yes please!He shook off the thought. Now was not the time. But soon, he would make it a priority to talk to Saxon and tell him that he wanted more.
“Move.” the man who had held the knife to Rick’s neck ordered.
Together they made their way to the next room, shut and locked the door behind them, and crossed it to the door on the outside wall.
“TOC, Bravo approaching checkpoint exfil.” Saxon was clearly talking to his Tactical Command Center. “Are we clear?”
After a brief pause where Rick couldn’t hear what was being said in the earpieces, Saxon whispered in response to whoever was on the other end of coms.
“Copy.”
One of the men opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. Rick moved to follow him, but was held back by Saxon. “Huh?”
“Luc’s gonna to throw a hook.”
“Got it.” The soft whirring sound confirmed Saxon’s explanation. The man Saxon had called Luc tossed the grappling hook to the branch of a tree outside the fence and secured it to the metal of the balcony railing before clipping on a climbing clip with a short handle.
“We’re going to fast rope over the fence.” Saxon whispered in his ear, “Two of our buddies are waiting for you on the ground. Follow their orders.”
“K.” He didn’t bother wasting time arguing that the others should go first. It was weird for him to be the principle, but he was experienced enough in ops to not fuck it up. He would do what he was told. He gripped the handle and climbed on the edge of the railing.
“Go,” Saxon smacked him on the ass. He heard the faint sounds of shouting in the background. Crap, they knew he was gone. Leaning forward with his weight, he willed himself to slide faster, then slammed into the tree on the opposite side of the fence and dropped to the ground. he bent his knees to take the impact as he landed on his feet, his boot without the lace flopping against his foot.
“Rick, Ambra One. Move.”
He allowed the hand to tug him out of the way to ensure the three who had rescued him had room to land one after the other.
“Let’s go.” the second man who had been on the ground ordered.
He didn’t need to give the order twice. Rick followed his rescuers down the alleyway. When they reached the end, he glanced over his shoulder to see one of the men who had been guarding him running around the corner.
Together, they headed down the street, moving swiftly but not running. The screeching of tires on asphalt had Saxon pushing Rick to one side, protecting him with his body. When the hell had that ever happened? He was usually the one doing the protecting.
“Get in the damn truck, assholes,” a voice called.
“Fuck my life.” Saxon muttered. Rick could see him wince before the man calling out to them had finished speaking. “Boss is gonna kill ya.”
Saxon turned toward the truck, allowing Rick to move again. An American-style pickup truck idled on the street next to them with the door open.
“We have about ten seconds before they are on us.” the passenger called. “Get your asses in the fucking truck. If we cause an international incident, the Boss will ground us for sure.”
“As if pulling my ass outta there doesn’t create an international incident.” Rick followed the guys to the truck. “We’re not all gonna fit.”
“We fit thirteen people into a Fiat 500 in the ‘Stan, all y’all will fit.” the driver muttered. “Asses in now. Luc, you take Rome on your lap. Sax, you got your man?”
“Yup.”
Saxon barely waited for the two men to climb into the rear seat in the extended cab before he followed them in, and tugged Rick in behind him. The front passenger slammed the door behind them, hitting Rick solidly in the ass, sending him sprawling across Saxon.
“Fuck, sorry.” Contorting and trying to take a seat in a truck cab holding five other people was not freaking easy when they all had big shoulders, and most were in full combat gear. Especially not when the driver was taking the twists and turns on the streets like his wheels were on fire.
“Damn it, that’s my balls.” Saxon grabbed Rick by the hips and pulled him onto his lap.
“Sorry.” Rick shifted and moved, trying to not sit on the weapon he felt beneath him.
