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Over International Waters
The Adriatic Sea, off the coast of Croatia

 

Command Sergeant Major Burt “Big Dog” Dawson steadied the line as he watched the man he had once tried to kill, smile up at him. If he were now asked to define their relationship, he would say Acton was a friend he usually saw on the battlefield. A comrade-in-arms on too many occasions.

A man he still owed to this day.

And would continue to owe until the day he died.

He was the leader of Bravo Team, in his opinion, and many others, the toughest bunch of Special Forces operators in the elite Delta Force, officially 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta. And they had been duped into killing a group of innocents that still haunted them all to this day.

Which was why, when Acton or his wife needed help, they would always try to be there, though tonight they would have been here regardless.

He pulled a grinning Acton inside.

“I had a feeling it was you guys.”

Dawson smiled as he shook the professor’s hand. “You’re lucky it was. We’ve got Russians inbound.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Acton as he shook hands with the rest of the team, all familiar faces to the man.

“Langley let us know where you were, so we figured we better pick you up before you got in the way.” He peered down at the boat. “I assume that’s Agent Reading down there.”

“You assume correctly.”

“Should we get him?”

Acton laughed. “You better, otherwise he’s going to be impossible in the morning.”

Dawson chuckled then handed the harness over to Sergeant Carl “Niner” Sung. “You do the honors while I brief our guest.”

“Yes’m!” Niner leaned out, taking over the recovery operation.

Acton peered over the edge at the boat. “Umm, are we just going to leave it there?”

Niner glanced over his shoulder. “What, Doc, you didn’t take the insurance when you rented her?”

Acton gave him a look. “Not exactly a car rental.”

“So that would be a no.”

Master Sergeant Mike “Red” Belme laughed. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

Acton patted the fuselage. “Not exactly a cheap chariot you’re in either, Sergeant.”

Red rubbed the seat. “No leather here, Doc.”

“Uh huh.”

Dawson leaned over to see Reading fitting himself into the harness. “Don’t worry, Doc, we’ll send someone to pick it up as soon as the mission is over.” He turned to Sergeant Leon “Atlas” James. “Call in the coordinates so I’m not made a liar. I’d hate to lose the professor’s yacht.”

“I’d hardly call it a yacht.”

Atlas’ impossibly deep voice rumbled through the cabin. “No, you wouldn’t. Millions would, but you wouldn’t.”

Reading was hauled inside and stumbled into a seat between Sergeants Will “Spock” Lightman and Jerry “Jimmy Olsen” Hudson, cursing the entire time. He looked about. “I was hoping it was you lot. What are you doing here?”

Dawson signaled the all-clear to Sergeant Zach “Wings” Hauser, piloting the Black Hawk, and the chopper dipped forward as they resumed course for their target. Niner slid the door closed, reducing the noise level considerably.

“Agent Reading, good to see you.” Dawson exchanged a handshake. “The Russians caught wind that the Amber Room was discovered, and they’re laying claim to it. Through their liaison connections with Interpol, they found out about the ship it’s on, and have sent a team to retrieve it.”

“Lovely.”

“Exactly what Washington was thinking.”

“So why are you here? America isn’t exactly involved in this.”

“The Poles say it’s theirs, since it was found on their soil, and they asked us, as in the US, to intervene on their behalf the moment it hit international waters. We happened to be returning from an op, so were tasked with the recovery operation.”

Acton leaned forward to be heard. “How far are we from the ship?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“And the Russians?” asked Reading.

“Thirty.”

“Lovely.”

Acton shook his head. “So we need to secure the boat before they arrive.”

Dawson nodded. “Exactly. If we don’t, they’re probably going to open fire and kill everything in sight.”

Acton’s face slackened. “Including Laura.”

Dawson’s face was grim. “I’m afraid that’s a possibility.”

Acton gripped his seat. “Can’t this thing go any faster!”