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  “You’re ready for it. Just get the job done.”

  An hour later, we stood on Griffin Carter’s porch. I listened to another soldier tell his wife that he had to come with us. She continued to stall.

  Arguing broke out.

  “Sarge, what do you want us to do?”

  “Do what you have to. We have to bring Carter in.”

  More arguing and then a gunshot. I never imagined Carter’s wife would be shot.

  Shaking the memory from my head, I refocus. “Did your team kill his family?”

  “No. A battle broke out, though. We sought refuge in his household. After we left, we learned the militants broke into a civilian home and killed the family. It was much later that we received intel that it was the same place we hid in. I had no idea it was Bashur’s family.”

  Damn!

  I rub my forehead. Shit just follows my family. “Zared said you found Rihana.”

  “Yes, they’re in the outbuilding. Bashur has her on the top floor.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes. I’ve got men stationed on the roof of the house. Someone saw them through the window. But, Asher, there’s a problem. Bashur’s wired the place with enough explosives to take out the entire compound and then some.”

  I rest my head against the seat back. “Where’s Bashur?”

  “Waiting for your return.”

  Of course, he is. Bashur is waiting for me to return home to die.

  —

  What I’m planning on doing is reprehensible but necessary. I exit the SUV and look for Butler. He’s still directing kids to the buses.

  He looks up as I run over to him.

  “Everything cool?”

  “No.” My stomach churns with the thought of what I’m about to say. “I need a favor.”

  The man narrows his eyes. “I think we’re square. For anything else, you should call your grandfather.”

  Ignoring his comment, I press on, “Can I use your phone?”

  “Why?”

  “My phone can be traced. I don’t want anyone to know that I’m calling Taft.” Glancing over my shoulder, I lower my voice. “I’m, like, trying to save my wife, dude.”

  Butler crosses his arms and leans against the bus. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  Holding my head back, I gaze up at the sky. This isn’t the time for explanations. I’ll try to keep it short. “My wife has been kidnapped, and my brother-in-law is behind it. He’s working with Bashur.”

  Butler’s bullet-like gaze passes over me. His words are calm and direct. “What can I do to help?”

  “Help me stage a hostage situation—my sister-in-law and her kids.”

  “And how will that possibly help?”

  “Butler, I don’t have time for this. My wife is being held hostage in a building full of explosives. Steve said—”

  “Is your wife on the compound?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Should have led with that.” Butler removes a phone from his jacket. “Hey, it’s me. We gotta move. Commander’s in trouble…” To me he says, “Jones, how many men?”

  “Possibly three, all Middle Eastern.”

  “Three Mid-Easterners.” He turns back to me. “Where is she and the rest of your family?”

  “Rihana is on the top floor of the outbuilding. Everyone else is, like, in the main house.”

  “You hear that?... Yeah, I’m sure Winters’s has a team, but get more sharpshooters… It’s going take some time to get there… Stay in touch.” Butler pockets his phone. “I called other team members in to help.”

  Not the plan I came up with, but at least I don’t have to further tarnish my soul.

  “Don’t worry, Jones. We’ll make sure your girl stays alive.”

  “Thank you.” I start to walk away.

  “Word of advice, pardner?”

  I lift an eyebrow.

  “Be careful of making enemies. You never know who you’ll need in your corner.”

  Point taken. I nod. “See you back in New Mexico.”

  —

  Jogging back to the vehicle, I hit the side as I jump in. “Fletch, we have to get out of here. We’ve been ordered to Los Alamos, ASAP.”

  “You got it, Captain!”

  Fletcher peels away from the curb, dirt and gravel flying behind us, as Niang calls ahead to the pilot. I keep watch for the local police. Last thing we need is to explain why we have one of the leaders of the not-so-free world in the car. We definitely couldn’t supply a rational excuse for his disheveled appearance and restraints.

  —

  The SUV comes to a screeching halt at the airstrip. We pile out while our honored guest gives us a raised eyebrow. Thankfully, he keeps quiet as I pull him to his feet and push him to the plane. Niang takes over and tugs Salk up the stairs.

  Walking up the aisle, I take a seat immediately behind him. “You should, like, make yourself comfortable. It’s a long flight.”

  “You think you’re going to come out ahead?” Salk says smugly.

  Mark plops down on the sofa across from me. “Leave it, Ash. Stay focused. Rihana’s counting on you not to fuck with this. Just take the fucking high road, man.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Saw you talking to Butler earlier. What’s up?”

  “He called up some more team members back in Los Alamos. They’re headed to the compound.”

  Mark lies down and places his arm over his face. “Gotta trust they’ll get the job done. Gonna take a nap.”

  In a matter of minutes, the man is out cold. His snoring tempts me, but my mind is too full to sleep.

  —

  Eight hours later, the sun is setting in Los Alamos, and we’re taxiing on the runway at the abandoned military base. My knees bounce as my fingers tingle. I’m ready to act. Thinking about every possible bad scenario has me pumped.

  “Asher?”

  Glancing up, I see Mark standing in front of me. “Mutt and Jeff want to know what to do with Salk.”

  “Take him to the hangar. Let Steve deal with him.”

  Mark purses his lips as he studies me for a too-long, uncomfortable minute. “I’ll be back.”

  I drop my head in my hands. Only a coward sits still and lets shit happen around him. The clock is ticking. I rub a hand over my aching chest. Circumstances could easily go sideways. Damn, I could use a fucking drink. Just one to take the edge off. Help me focus.

  Said no one ever. One drink leads to a whole damn bottle.

  The sofa cushion dips, and Mark elbows me. He’s holding a tumbler of clear liquid over ice. “It’s vodka. You need it.”

  I start salivating like an experimental dog. This man knows me so well. Tossing back the drink, I hope the burn will rid me of the panic vexing me. Clearing my throat, I thank him.

  “Ash, you gotta keep it together. Your family’s depending on you, man.”

  “I know, Mark, but, like, all I can think of is what happens… I can’t do it again.”

  Mark exhales. “It’s been seven years. Sooner or later, you’ve got to let it go. Move past it.”

  Like I said, he knows me.

  Leave it to Mark to know where my head is at. When it comes to my family and danger, the first thing my mind does is reconstruct the worst night of my life.

  My parents lay dead. The truck dragging Shiloh was nowhere in sight. Surely this was a dream, but this… this was nobody’s dream. It was a damn nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.

  Finding my brother’s desecrated body the next day devastated me. Our neighbors, people we trusted, had no respect for him or my parents. I helped my grandfather, Edward, claim their remains. I can’t go through another moment like that. Back then, I found comfort in alcohol and drugs and Mark. That can’t happen either.

  My voice cracks as I ask, “What if I lose them all?”

  “And what if you don’t?” He leans forward and puts his arms on his legs. “Life is risky, Ash. If you wanna live, you have to take chances. Are
you gonna sit here all day? Or are you gonna get off your ass, and go see what’s happening with your family?”

  As usual, he’s right. Mark Carter is rarely wrong when it comes to me. “Okay. You coming?”

  “Something tells me I’d better drive or you’ll never make it there.”

  —

  Mark navigates a Jeep through the front gate and heads to the compound. “What have you figured out so far?”

  “We know all the players.”

  He side-glances at me. “We do?”

  “Yeah. There’s a video. Like, give me a second.”

  I find it on my phone, and Mark pulls over to the side of the road. “Let’s see it.”

  He stops and starts the video at different points.

  “What do you see?” I ask.

  “Person number one is behind the camera. You recognize his voice?”

  “Yeah. That fucker has to be her older brother, Habib.” I’m still kicking myself for not realizing that earlier.

  “Okay. Person number two is the man with the gun. Whatcha got on him?”

  His identity troubles me more than Habib’s. The gunman is someone else I was supposed to trust—my contact within RMA.

  “His name is Jabari El-Hasham. He was undercover as a third-year cadet. Before you ask, I got the intel from Zared. Turns out Jabari and Habib are friends.”

  “Damn.” He passes the phone back to me. “She’s being held inside some sort of warehouse?”

  “No. Outbuilding on my step-grandfather’s compound.”

  “When did you get confirmation?” Mark steers back onto the blacktop.

  “Right before I asked Butler for his help. The building is full of explosives, and she’s on the top floor.”

  Mark adjusts his position in the seat. “Contact someone. Butler, your grandfather, Zared… you need to know what’s going on. Oh, does Bashur know you’re alive?”

  “Yeah. He’s actually waiting for me to return.”

  “I’m not taking you to get killed.”

  “No one’s, like, killing me.”

  Instead of watching the road, he gives me a wide-eyed stare. “As soon you set foot on the premises, Bashur will blow your brains out along with everyone else. I can’t let that shit happen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “There is a great darkness and despair in our land. Our oppressors wish to devour not just our people. Their hand stretches forth and threatens all people, not just those chosen of Allah.”

  —from the Honorable M. Raman Bashur,

  Kurdish political & religious thinker

  This is not the time for Mark to play big brother. As kids, he’d pull that shit when he thought I needed protecting. He’d only stop when I’d get pissed off. Then he’d sit me down tell me he was just watching out for me. I don’t need it, especially not now.

  “What the hell do you think I’m going to do? Let somebody else rescue my family?”

  “Fuck yeah!” He stops the Jeep in the middle of the road.

  When Mark gets like this, I seriously want to deck him—best friend or not. In the past, we have gotten into a fight or two, but this is the worst he’s ever been.

  “What are you doing?” I shout.

  He points to my phone. “Make the goddamned call, Ash. If you don’t, I will.”

  Remembering what’s at stake, I call Steve.

  “Asher, where are you?” he blurts.

  “Not too far.” I put the phone on speaker. “Any news?”

  “Rihana’s still in the building. We’ve seen Bashur pacing outside.”

  “Steve, some of your team is supposed to be coming to you. Butler said they were sending sharpshooters.”

  “They arrived a few hours ago. We’re good as long as we can keep an eye on Bashur and his men. It’s when they go inside—”

  Mark interrupts, “Sir, this is Carter. Is Aoki nearby?”

  “What the hell do you want, Carter?” Zared asks.

  “No time to be a dick, Aoki. You need to jam the phone signals. If the detonator—”

  “On it. You do realize you’ll be in the dark?”

  “Just do it,” Mark instructs and ends the call.

  “Now what, dude?”

  “Say a prayer to whomever you believe in.” He starts up the vehicle but doesn’t put it in gear.

  My phone buzzes, and Bashur’s name flashes on the display. Not good. We might have a minute or two before the signal is lost.

  “Hello.”

  “As-Salaam-Alaikum,” Bashur greets.

  I have to force myself to reply, “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam.”

  Mark gestures for me to put the phone on speaker.

  “Lieutenant, I understand you completed the mission. When do you plan on returning? We have much celebrating to do.”

  “The plane just landed,” I lie. “We’ll, like, be on our way in another twenty minutes or so. Let me speak with Rihana.”

  “Not possible. She is… uh… a little tied up at the moment.”

  My fists clench. “I swear, Bashur…”

  “Always swearing. There is one thing you can swear to, something I need you to swear to.”

  “What?”

  “That you will leave Rihana.”

  “Not happening.”

  “I will have her. Either here or in Heaven.”

  I disconnect.

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “Get us to the compound now. I’m going in there and beat the shit out of him.”

  Mark shakes his head. “No, Ash. I won’t let you kill yourself.”

  “Drive the goddamn car!”

  Mark can’t get to my grandparents’ place fast enough, maneuvering the twisty roads on two wheels.

  “What’s your plan, Ash?”

  “We, like, ditch the Jeep at the main gate and walk to the compound. The entrance faces the main road.”

  “You plan on going through the front door?”

  “Yeah. We get everyone out. Then, we go back and take care of Bashur and his men. Steve has an arsenal inside.”

  He glances at me. “I sure hope the hell you know what you’re doing. I don’t plan on dying today.”

  “Neither do I.”

  REPARATIONS

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “When looking for problems under your command, check in the mirror.”

  —from “Reflections on Riza” by Lt. Asher Nicholas Jones

  Contrary to what Mark thought, dying isn’t high on my agenda either. I’m more of a getting answers type of guy. Unfortunately, this situation Bashur’s created leaves me having to park commonsense and make some foolhardy decisions—like ditching the Jeep and walking toward the compound. This makes about as much sense as a fly dancing around a spiderweb—only bad shit will happen.

  “How do you want to do this?” Mark asks as we walk along the dark road leading to the compound. “Personally, I think leaving the vehicle was a bad idea, Ash.”

  Honestly, I don't think I’ve ever made a favorable decision around this man.

  “Look, it’s not like we had a lot of options. Riding up to the gate with guns blazing ain’t happening.” I glance over at the man I trust with my life. There’s nothing I can suggest that Mark would like, and he definitely won’t like my sacrificial move. “I’ll go in first. Let whoever’s guarding the gate take me to—”

  “Another bad idea, Ash.” Mark adjusts the strap holding the gun over his shoulder. “As soon as Bashur sees you, you’re dead. Now the fucker ain’t expecting me. So I can get in and access the situation.”

  Yeah, right. Neither of us is bulletproof. “When did you become a fucking superhero? You can get shot, too.”

  “You didn’t see my cape? Oh, that's right. I forgot to swing by the dry cleaner’s.” Mark chuckles. “All kidding aside, I’m the least likely candidate. Like I said, Bashur isn’t waiting for me.”

  The idea of putting Mark directly in danger doesn’t sit well with me, but what choice do we have? Somebody has t
o breach the gate. Somebody has to get inside that house. This is the best way of getting the job done.

  “Okay,” I say on a sigh. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just hang back. Come on my signal.”

  “And what signal will that be?”

  Mark turns toward me and grins. “Don't worry. You’ll know it.”

  Watching my friend continue on to the gate without me, I say a silent prayer to whichever man is occupying the seat upstairs. I’m not losing my best friend and brother, not tonight. Thankfully, it's dark enough to keep me hidden. A light flickers on at the fence as Mark draws closer. I take another step back.

  Two men on the other side of the entrance point their weapons at Mark. He raises his hands and exchanges words with them. The one farthest away lowers his rifle as his partner disarms Mark. The next few minutes are a blur. As the man moves to take Mark’s gun, my friend grabs the soldier. Using him as a shield, Mark holds a knife to the man’s throat. The other soldier aims and shoots. Wrong target. His partner takes a slug in the chest. Mark grabs a pistol from his waist and returns fire. The shooter drops to the dusty ground.

  With both men dead, I walk toward Mark. “Was this wise? I’m sure someone heard.”

  He shrugs. “I did what had to be done. Let's go before somebody comes to check on them.”

  —

  We have the cover of darkness to protect us as we enter the compound. Coyotes howling in the hills remind us that we must stay alert. We have no idea who’s on Bashur’s team and who fights for Steve. If needed, Mark and I are strapped with AK-47 rifles, pistols, and even knives. Using them, however, might alert Bashur—if we haven’t already—and that’s the last thing we need to do. Too many lives depend on us to do this the right way.

  From the gate, I notice that the house is lit up like a Christmas tree—every light including the outside ones are on. If I had any doubts that Bashur was waiting on me, they’ve all been erased.

  “Mark?”

  “I know, man. We’ll be fucking sitting ducks if we go in there.”

  Crouching behind a pile of boulders, I pull out my phone.

  “I thought Aoki killed the signal,” Mark says.

  “He’s supposed to, but I need to check.” Not only is there no signal, but my phone battery is dangerously low. Shit. Going dark was a calculated risk. We may or may not have stopped Bashur from detonating the explosives, and now we can’t get a message to anyone. “What do we do now?”