Page 43 of The Big Fix

“Sure, Dad, yeah,” she said sarcastically, and Nam’s laughter was nice to hear.

There were no major roads where we were and no cars on the Koh Kret, making the safe house accessible only by water and tactically perfect. Jing easily found the house’s private jetty and sped into a small berth, then cut the engine. Slowly, moving gently, the powerboat drifted on the calm river to the mooring, and I jumped onto the dock, taking the line to tie up.

“Holy shit,” Chris said, coming down the dock to meet us. “How many bullets are in this thing, and how is it still floating?”

“I have no idea,” Jing muttered, getting off the boat quickly but giving it a pat. “It’s a good one, though. I’m gonna get one with my bonus,” she said, glaring at me.

“Duly noted,” I groused at her.

“I’m so calling Hasana and giving her shit,” she snapped, charging by Chris.

“Really,” Chris said, gesturing at the boat. “How?”

“Krit!” His family ran down the dock to greet him as he scrambled off the boat.

It was nice to see the happy reunion, the hugging and kissing. I didn’t speak the language, so I didn’t know what was being said, but I heard Garland’s name, and when he reached them, he returned Nam’s family’s effusive greetings with a stream of flowing Thai.

“Seriously?” I said irritably as I passed by him. I, of course, had not kept my eye on Nam for the entirety of our trip down the river, so I must have missed Garland saving his life. The way Nam was holding his arm, and the way his family hugged him, I was thinking it had been epic.

Walking toward the safe house, I was met by George Hunt.

“Hey,” I greeted him, offering him my hand. “Thank you for the assist on the street earlier.”

“You’re welcome, Colonel,” he said with a grimace.

I knew the look. “You need to go.”

“Yessir, and I apologize, but I need to rejoin my unit. We’re being deployed to Syria.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I assured him, stepping back to offer him a salute. “Thank you, soldier. Travel safe and get home.”

He immediately returned the salute. “Rangers lead the way, sir.”

“They do,” I agreed.

I was certain he was about to be choppered out, but I didn’t ask as he jogged down the dock, away from me, his duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the rifle bag over the other.

“This is excellent news,” Dante greeted me, coming down the dock, looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. “You’re not dead.”

I gestured at him. “How do you always stay so clean?”

“Because I never take the ride of terror on the river,” he answered, scowling at me. “Why do you always look so terrible? And didn’t you have a shirt when you started?”

I ignored him, smiling at Arden, who rushed up and flung herself into my arms. She was weeping, clearly happy to see me.

“Are you all right?” I asked her when she eased back to look at my face.

She nodded and pointed over her shoulder. “What did you do to Jing?”

“It was maybe a little dicey out there.”

“I think she’s throwing up.”

“Yeah, I might need to throw up myself.”

The private four-room, one-bathroom, teakwood house was a comfortable place with all the essentials. We all took turns showering and changing since Dante and Arden had been kind enough to bring our things.

There was food and ice water, and Nam’s sister cooked for us, turning essentials into something that tasted even better than it smelled, which was impressive, as it smelled amazing.