34 |

East of Dimas, Pinar del Rio, Cuba

 

Dawson stripped out of his wet gear as Jagger bundled it up and stashed it. Jimmy motioned toward Dawson’s leg.

“Problem?”

“I’ll live.”

“Are you going to be able to run on that thing?”

Dawson headed for the vehicle his team had commandeered and climbed in the passenger seat. “You let me worry about that. If I hold you up, you don’t wait.”

“Copy that,” said Jimmy as he climbed in the driver’s seat.

Dawson activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One, status report, over.”

“Zero-one, Control. The boat is en route to Havana. One-One is intercepting. Zero-Six is in the back of a transport truck being taken to San Julián Air Base. Coordinates sent to your computer.”

“Copy that. Zero-One, out.” He grabbed the roof as Jimmy took a sharp turn a little too fast.

“Sorry.”

Dawson grunted. “One-One, Zero-One, report, over.”

Niner replied immediately. “Zero-One, One-One. Welcome back to the land of the living. We’re en route to take care of the target, over.”

“Can you two handle this by yourselves?”

“No problem. I’ve got my little friend with me. Would you like to say hello to my little friend?”

Jimmy gave Dawson a look. “You know he’s talking about his penis, right?”

Dawson chuckled. “Report back when you’re about to engage, and don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to have to rescue your ass too.”

“Who, me? When was the last time I ever did anything stupid?”

“The list is long and distinguished, One-One, and I wouldn’t want to embarrass you since Control is listening. Zero-One, out.” Dawson turned to the others. “Let’s go get Mickey.”