Monkeying Around

  He exchanged a glance with Alpha. “Here we go.”

  He answered.

  * * * *

  Alpha watched Papa talking, presumably to Zed.

  He didn’t like the frown the man suddenly wore. That expression never meant anything good.

  Ever.

  Evveerrr.

  Especially post-TMFU.

  In fact, post-TMFU, whenever Papa wore that look it usually meant a huge-ass monkey wrench had been tossed into their plans.

  When Papa finished his phone conversation, Alpha had gotten the general gist, but he waited for the man to explain.

  “Apparently, a team was dispatched from Leavenworth. Four. Shoot to kill.”

  Alpha’s heart sank. “Aw, shit.”

  “Here’s the interesting thing. One of the college kids is armed. Took them out. The whole team.”

  Alpha thought he heard him wrong. “Took who out?”

  “The STK team from Leavenworth.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “They lost two of their people, unfortunately.”

  “I thought you said four were dispatched?”

  “The hackers lost two of their people.”

  “And…wait, what? A college guy shot four experienced troops?”

  “Nope. College girl.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  The short hairs on the back of Alpha’s neck were standing up and doing the tango with each other. “Why do I find that difficult to believe?”

  “Exactly.” Papa placed another call, and by the context and content, Alpha didn’t need an explanation.

  When Papa ended the call, he glanced at Alpha. “Bubba’s checking them out for us.”

  “What would we do without him watching out for us?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t want to know, either.”

  “Why do I have a feeling he already knows more about those college kids than we do?”

  “Because I’m sure he does.”

  “Now what do we do?”

  “Wait until the exfil team gets back here and I have a chance to assess the situation.”

  Once they spotted the group, their two vehicles and a van, Papa got on the two-way to Annie. “How’s their six look?”

  “Nothing but normal traffic that I see,” she responded. “How long we going to let them chill?”

  “Ten minutes, at least. You see anything the slightest bit fishy, holler.”

  “Roger roger.”

  Papa’s phone rang. He answered. “Yeah?” He listened for a moment. “Roger roger.” He ended the brief call. “Our shooter is a military brat. Both parents still active.”

  That relaxed Alpha a little. “Okay. Makes sense. I guess.”

  Papa called Zed and relayed the info to him, along with instructions to wait there, before he sat back to wait.

  Alpha knew the drill. They needed to make sure another military team hadn’t followed them, or that the students themselves didn’t have something hinky planned. Although Bubba vouching for them helped, they couldn’t take chances. Not with the base and the full scientific team so close.

  Frankly, Alpha was nervous about them all flying at once in the same plane. He’d personally feel better if half the team went up, followed by the other half, just in case. Shit happened. Plane engines malfunctioned, flocks of birds hit airplanes—it didn’t have to be something nefarious to go tits-up in a really bad way, really damn fast.

  And then where would the world be?

  But after suggesting it to Papa, who’d relayed the concern, they’d both been overruled. It was more imperative to get all of them out of the country ASAP. The mole who’d helped Silo arrange the hit on the CDC facility had already been taken out, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other shadow players in the wings.

  The preacher was annoyingly tenacious, if nothing else. Alpha couldn’t wait for the day they got the green-light to add a few extra bodily orifices to the man in the way of entry and exit wounds.

  “I wonder which one saved their asses?” Alpha mused.

  “Zed said she’s riding with Lima in the back of their SUV.”

  Alpha pulled out a small pair of field glasses and looked. The angle of the rising sun cast a glare off the driver’s side of the SUV, making it impossible to see inside.

  “How do we handle her?” Alpha asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do we disarm her?”

  “I think trying to disarm her might cause more problems than we need right now,” Papa reasoned. “If she was going to harm any of our people, she would have done it at the meet-up.”

  “You said she drew on Snarky.”

  “You probably would have, too.”

  “True.”

  They waited.

  “Annie, how we doing?” Papa asked a few minutes later.

  “Still clear on their six.”

  “Keep an eye out. We’re going in. Give us a couple of minutes before you follow us when we leave, and catch up before we turn off the road so you’re going into the base with us. You see anything before then, sound the alarm.”

  “Roger roger.”

  Alpha cranked the engine and slowly drove over to where the group awaited them. When they got out, he let Papa take the lead as he kept a close eye on the parking lot and the students.

  Zed and Uncle emerged from their vehicle, along with the others. Only Snarky stayed behind, probably under orders from her men to sit tight after how she’d been drawn upon at the park.

  It clearly became obvious which student was Tank, the one who’d done the shooting. The other twelve students gave the young woman a wide berth while at the same time deferring to her.

  With straight black hair pulled into a ponytail, and almond-shaped eyes, she stood a slim five four, maybe. The way she held her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself, he was having a hard time picturing this girl taking down a STK team.

  Does. Not. Compute.

  The way that Chief, Lima, Zed, Uncle, and Niner warily kept close tabs on her also struck him as…odd.

  Quick introductions were made of the students as the story of their escape was told again, by them, this time with more details.

  One of the students, a girl named Sylvan, seemed doggedly determined to edge closer to him and Papa.

  Then she smiled up at him. “Hi,” she softly said. “Thank you for this. For saving us. I was so scared.”

  She was cute, if not a little younger than his tastes. “It’s what we do. I—”

  Tank stepped over, between Sylvan and him, shot him a deadly scowl, and then proceeded to herd Sylvan back to the group like a possessive sheepdog.

  “Hi,” he tried.

  Tank glared at him. If she was a dog, he imagined she’d be growling at him.

  His hand sought the comforting bulk of the nine in its holster along his back.

  While Sylvan seemed to longingly eye him from afar, Tank continued to shoot deadly glares in his direction up until it was time to get them loaded up and moving once more.

  Uncle walked over to him. “Man, what’d you say to piss Tank off?”

  Alpha shrugged. “Fuck if I know. She’s the one with the gun?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Maybe she’s just in momma bear mode. Can’t say’s I blame her.”

  “That girl, Sylvan, seemed to have eyes for you.”

  Another shrug. “Let’s move out. We can shoot the shit later.” He didn’t want to think about that right now. Maybe once they hit Canada and could actually breathe without worrying about who was on their six.

  There was definitely something different about Tank, compared to the others in the group. Something…he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  Right now, there wasn’t time to contemplate it, anyway.

  He headed for their vehicle and prepared to move out.

  Chapter Four

  Papa hadn’t missed the interplay between Tank and Alpha while he’d been trying to get the full story a
bout what happened. He took the keys from Alpha and opted to drive.

  And it amused the hell out of him that Tank had seemingly focused on Alpha as an adversary.

  “What the fucking hell?” Alpha groused as Papa drove. “Why the hell is that girl acting like that?”

  Papa smirked. “Don’t know. Either she doesn’t like you, or doesn’t like that girl getting all gushy over you.”

  “But we don’t even know them. We just saved their lives. You’d think she’d be a little more appreciative.”

  “I think that girl, Tank, is technically the one who saved their lives. Our people just swooped in to move them to safety. Something tells me Tank has appointed herself the protector of their group.” His amusement faded. “They just lost two of their people. I’m sure that shock is still settling in.”

  Alpha threw his head back against the seat rest. “Hell. Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m sure no one’s at their best right now. Including me.”

  “They’re scared, they’re upset, they’re on the run. And keep in mind that they aren’t soldiers, they’re students. We’re trained for this. They aren’t.”

  “Then why’s the one got a gun, again?”

  “You were a military brat. How’d your dad raise you?”

  “Oh. Yeah, true. My sister could outshoot me when she was ten.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t bust my balls now.”

  “As your CO, and considering the bullshit you put me through in Glasgow that time, yeah, I can bust your balls all I want.”

  Alpha snorted. “That was pretty fucking funny.”

  “No, it wasn’t. Freezing my balls off while running naked down the middle of Sauchiehall Street at midnight. In January. In the fucking rain.” Papa shook his head. “I will get you back for that one day.”

  “You weren’t naked. You had that towel.”

  “It was a hand towel.”

  “Come on, you have to admit I got you good.”

  “I got you better.” Papa grinned. “I out-rank you, and I’m your CO.”

  “Yeah, true. Asshole.”

  “But I still owe you for that. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

  Alpha snorted.

  * * * *

  Tank ignored the low whispers of Sylvan bitching about her interference with Alpha to the others. Tank was too focused on watching their six through the back window, keeping the nine drawn but down, not visible to the others.

  If someone started following them, someone bad, she wanted a chance to warn the driver…and take the pursuers out first.

  She’d already done—multiple times—a mental headcount of their group. In here, besides her, were Sylvan, Torphin, and Malyern.

  Driving the van with the others was Ellsen. He had with him the surviving members of their group: Orson, Paxton, Shuller, Jerise, King, Prudhomme, Boyd, and Argen.

  Thirteen left of their group, including herself. Five men, eight women. Shuller and Boyd were pretty much hooking up with each other, inseparable ever since Salt Lake City. Which in some ways made Tank’s job a little easier. If she saw one, the other should be nearby, or know the other’s whereabouts. Despite being the youngest at eighteen, Jerise had proven herself to be capable, trustworthy enough to obey the rules Tank had been setting down for the group during their run. She didn’t have to worry about Jerise putting them in danger through sheer stupidity, at least.

  Sylvan could take a few lessons from her.

  It would be difficult to get used to not including Gatsby and Connell in her mental checklist every time she looked around to see where everyone was. It’d become second nature to her to make sure none were left behind, forgotten.

  Or hanging back and doing something stupid, like Sylvan trying to post messages about her family.

  Her ears perked up when she heard Sylvan ask a question, to Chief, it turned out. “So you’re military, too?”

  “Not exactly. Former military. I was most recently in law enforcement. But I’m partners with two of the guys in the unit now, Echo and Omega, and unofficially officially part of the unit.”

  Tank’s head swiveled forward so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. She knew from Bubba that the Drunk Monkeys were OTG and had added some civvie personnel to their ranks, but this didn’t sound like that.

  “Partners?” Sylvan asked.

  Chief smiled back at her. “Twenty guys paired off into two-man teams, and nine women have joined up. Do the math. Papa and Alpha are the only single team left.”

  “Really?” Sylvan sounded like she had more than a passing curiosity about that.

  Really, indeed. A clueless, helpless, and now terrified civvie like Sylvan would definitely glom onto a pair of able hunks like Alpha and Papa if left to her own devices.

  “Really,” Chief said. “The doctor in that other car? The one your friend back there drew on? She just joined up most recently, paired up with those two guys she’s riding with.”

  “Huh. That’s really—”

  “None of your damn business, Sylvan,” Tank said, glaring at the girl. “They’re military.”

  “We’re not all military,” Chief said.

  Sylvan shot Tank a dirty look. “Who are you to—”

  “I just saved your fucking life,” Tank shot back. “After Connell and Gatsby died because you couldn’t follow a simple set of instructions not to post messages looking for your mommy and daddy. You think a top secret special ops unit needs someone like you hanging on? Think again. We’re trying to expose what the military did in Barstow. Besides, I thought you had the hots for Gatsby? Awfully funny way to show you like a guy, by lusting after someone else before his body’s even finished cooling off.”

  Sylvan’s jaw snapped shut even as a deep red blush filled her cheeks.

  The vehicle’s occupants fell silent. Tank noticed Lima glancing at her in the rearview mirror, the man riding shotgun turning to stare at her over the seats.

  “Wow, that’s harsh,” Chief finally said.

  “Yeah, well, tell that to Gatsby and Connell, who we left sitting in a car in the middle of the street with their brains and guts leaking out all over.”

  And tell that to the families of the four poor fucks I had to frag in the process.

  But she couldn’t say that out loud.

  Those six deaths made her sick at heart to think about, so she shoved the thoughts away. There was nothing different she could have done once those orders were issued that would have stopped those men in their tracks.

  Her superiors would exonerate her.

  Didn’t mean she had a clear conscience over it, or would forgive herself for it.

  The interior remained uncomfortably silent, Tank returning Sylvan’s glare with an icy stare of her own until the girl finally turned and faced forward again.

  After a few more chilly minutes that had nothing to do with the brutal winter weather outside the car, Chief spoke up again.

  “So…I am curious. How’d you take out a trained military team on your own?”

  The question had been directed at Malyern, who shook her head and pointed over the seat at Tank. “Ask her,” she quietly said. “We’re only alive because of her.”

  Torphin and Sylvan both nodded in agreement.

  Chief met Tank’s gaze. “Well? What happened?”

  Tank knew the woman was trained to sniff out bullshit, so she did her best to adhere as closely to the truth as she could.

  “The other car died as the team caught up with us. If we’d gotten out five minutes earlier because someone wasn’t bitching about a shower”—she was satisfied to see Sylvan’s blush deepen over that comment—“we might have gotten away without incident.”

  “But there were four of them?” Chief asked.

  Tank played it through in her mind. “They came from the other direction and turned around to follow us. The other car died. I made a U-turn and they were focused on Gatsby and Connell’s car when I drove up and took out the two in the fron
t seat. Two guys in the back got out. I spun around and ran over them while the other car crashed. It was too late for Gatsby and Connell, though, unfortunately. I was just lucky. That’s all.”

  Chief’s gaze narrowed as she studied Tank. “I was an LA County deputy. I was in the military, an MP. I’m trained in tactical combat skills. No offense, but it sounds like way more than ‘luck,’ if you ask me.”

  At least Tank had time to think about her answer to that. One she’d hoped she’d never need, but a lie she’d kept in waiting ever since joining the group in case her tactical skills were exposed in any kind of way. Not even a total lie.

  “I can thank my dad for that. Well, and my mom, but mostly my dad. They’re both active. Career military. Officers. My dad had put some sort of weapon in my hand literally as long as I can remember. Knives, bow, guns. He was always teaching me stuff. Any spare moment he had, he’d take me camping, teach me survival skills, run through war games with me.”

  “Huh. Guess it wore off on you?” Chief asked, her tone swinging back into believing it.

  “Yeah. Tell me about it. Try having to earn your driver’s license by beating your dad at paintball hunts twenty-five times straight. Took me the better part of a fricking year.”

  At that Chief looked surprised, and Tank knew the not-quite-a-lie had been completely bought. “Um…okay. Wow.”

  Tank shrugged. “Some parents spoil their kids rotten and buy them things to show them they love them.” She met Sylvan’s gaze. “My parents made sure their daughter could take care of herself and others should the worst-case scenario ever hit. When all’s said and done, looks like my parents did the right thing.”

  Tank held Sylvan’s gaze until the girl looked away again, her face reddening even more as she did so.

  That’d been a direct and deliberate shot across the girl’s bow that would, hopefully, completely cool her ardor over Alpha and Papa.

  “I guess so,” Chief said. “Where are they now?”

  The only true emotion Tank allowed to take over bled through at that answer. “Mom’s safe in Germany. I think. I hope. They’re buttoned down. Dad’s…” She swallowed hard, not needing to fake the grief threatening to overwhelm her. “He’s in Manila. Status unknown.”