Eighty

Michael stepped off the plane, his boots sinking into the thick, damp Colombian soil, his gaze going directly to the sturdy-looking outbuilding about twenty-five yards south of the runway. Next to it was Ben’s Lear and another plane he’d never seen before. As soon as he was clear of the jet, it turned itself around on the runway and taxied down the strip of dirt, flying back to Spain or wherever it was supposed to go next.

The bay door on the shed rolled up, its sharp metal clang loud enough to scatter a flock of sunbitterns, their large wings lifting them in the air to carry them away.

“You catch any sleep?” Ben said, meeting him halfway between the shed and the airstrip.

“Some,” he said, looking at his watch, doing a quick calculation in his head. It was seven a.m. local time, which meant they had about twelve hours to plan out and execute a full-scale assault on an island fortress fifty miles away. “We should probably get started.”

“We already have,” Ben said, falling into step beside him. Michael was about to ask who we was, but a few steps closer meant he didn’t have to. The kid must’ve read his expression because he started talking—fast. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but—”

Michael looked at the small group of people clustered around a map they had spread out on a worktable. Lark and Strickland he recognized right away, and the woman too, but the other man he could only vaguely recall. “Ideal? Is that code for we’re all gonna die?”

“Speak for yourself,” the woman he knew as Mary said, straightening her bent posture to give him the once-over. “I happen to enjoy living and have no intention of dying for some broody cop and a snot-nose kid.”

“Yeah, let’s start with you.” He turned to Ben, who was rubbing the back of his neck like it hurt. “Why is she here?”

“I never left,” she said, leaning her hip up against the table. “Someone had to keep an eye on the situation while you were busy cleaning up the mess you made in Spain.”

“Being Livingston Shaw’s personal pet doesn’t make you bullet-proof, Church,” he all but growled at her. “Yeah. I know who you are.”

She laughed, her hand settling on the Glock strapped to her hip. “You kill one chick and suddenly—”

“Both of you need to shut the fuck up,” Strickland said, still bent over the map they’d been studying. “Because neither one of you are helping. Now”—he looked up, aiming his narrowed glare directly at Michael—“why don’t you get your ass over here and tell us the best place to do a night drop on the island.”

Michael approached the table to see that they were studying a map of the island. “Where’d you get this?” he said, recognizing the layout and shape of the beach, the dense jungle between there and the house.

“It was here,” Lark said. “This is Reyes’s private airfield. There’s all kinds of shit here.”

“And he just left it unguarded?” Michael looked around before letting his gaze land on Ben. “That doesn’t sound like Reyes at all.”

“There were six of them when we landed yesterday, but they started getting antsy when we didn’t take off right away,” Church said, distracted by the map.

“So … ”

She looked up at him. “So I killed them,” she said, dropping her finger on the map near the coastline. “What about here? I think it’s a good drop zone, but Officer Friendly here thinks it’s too open.”

Michael looked where she was pointing. “He’s right,” he said, trailing his fingers up the line where water met sand. “Reyes’s compound is less than a mile from here.” He tapped his finger on the spot on the map that marked the house. “I’ll have to drop on the other side of the island and pack it in.”

“We.”

He looked up from the map to see Strickland watching him. “Look. I get that you care about her and I get that—”

“Save it. Your sidekick over there already gave me the we’re gonna kill ’em, not arrest ’em speech and you know what?” Strickland gave him a cool smile. “I’m down with that.”

He studied Sabrina’s partner for a few seconds, trying to find out if this facet of his personality was a new development or if it’d been there all along, buried beneath the rumpled suits and ketchup-stained ties before deciding it really didn’t matter. He was here and he knew what he was asking for. Michael decided to give it to him.

“Then we’ll drop in here,” he said. “It’s about a two-mile jungle hike to the base of the mountain the compound sits on.” He bounced a look between Lark and Church, not liking his choices. Not one fucking bit. Finally he settled on Lark. “You can set up comms—”

“Sorry, partner. Green Mile’s already spoken for,” Ben said, a look passing between him and his former partner. “There’s some shit he’s got to straighten out for me. I’m running comms, so you’ll have to take Super Spy.”

Church must’ve read the fuck that all over his face because she smiled. “I realize I’m not Miss Popularity, but I am on your side.”

“Today,” he said, the word flexing against the hard set of his jaw. “What about yesterday when you handed her over to Reyes? Were you on my side then?”

“Believe it or not, yes.” She stopped smiling, the glint in her eyes dimming just a bit. “But unlike the rest of you fuckwits, I follow orders. I did what I could for her within the parameters I was given. She’s armed and has an approximate mission window; if she’s as bad-
ass as everyone thinks she is, that’s plenty.”

With Ben running comms and Lark working on whatever it was Ben had him doing, his choices were slim. As in, he didn’t have one. “Fine.”

“I have a question …”

They all turned to look at the man who’d so far remained quiet. A quick flash of recognition brought Michael a memory. It was the pilot. The same one who’d medevaced Sabrina out of those woods the day she’d killed Wade. Harrison. His name was Reese Harrison, and he was apparently not rotting away in a hole or enjoying a fat pile of hush money like Michael had envisioned. He was Ben’s pilot. He looked at his partner for confirmation.

Ben shrugged. “I told you I’d take care of it, didn’t I?” he said before looking at Harrison. “What’s your question?”

“How are you going to get in the house?” the pilot said. “We did a flyover on the way here. It looked like security is pretty tight.”

“That’s the easiest part of this whole thing.” Michael rocked back on his heels and smiled. “I’m gonna walk right in.”