Rick’s eyes burned from lack of sleep. Adrenaline would kick in if he needed it and knock back the fog of fatigue, but he would pay good money for four straight hours of undisturbed sleep.

And for a double cheeseburger.

He and Sanders had a tradition that revolved around postdeployment hamburgers. He’d been more ready for a thick, juicy burger a couple of times in his life, but he’d be hard-pressed to name them right now.

As he and Swanson slipped into the jungle, the rain fell in a curtain around them. After the stifling, muggy heat, the rain actually felt good. He took a deep breath through his nose and appreciated the fresh fragrance of the plants and flowers. Their boots moved silently across the wet ground.

“I don’t think I’ve been fully dry since we got here,” Swanson murmured.

“Beats the desert,” Rick said.

About fifty paces into the vegetation, McBride and Fisher met up with them. Fisher gestured with his hand toward the village. “Three of Chukuwereije’s men are in the village,” he said. “They’re terrorizing the people.”

Rick rolled his head back and forth, his mind rapidly sifting through all their options. They could stay where they were, pray that the villagers who saw them earlier didn’t tell. They could capture the warlord’s men. They could stop the terror and eliminate the threat.

Right now, getting Sanders and Ozzy to a hospital—preferably without adding to the injured numbers—took the number one slot on his priority list. They could eliminate three Chukuwereije soldiers with little effort. That would also remove the risk of a villager revealing they’d been seen.

“What kind of transport are they using?”

“Small cab, four-by-four.” McBride wiped the rain off his face. “I had one like it in high school.”

“Piece of junk?”

McBride nodded solemnly. “You got no idea, Cap.”

“That could help us tonight.” Without the cricket, Sanders and Ozzy would both fit in the bed of a small-cab truck. “Okay. Stealth is called for. Four-man stack, then two by two. Suppressors, blades, or bare hands. Take the men out and secure the vehicle. Stash it away from the village. No traces in the village. None. Clear?”

“Crystal, Daddy.”

Rick nodded. “Spread the word.”

Fisher took point, and they moved toward the village. On the edge of the tree line, Rick stopped and took a knee, bowed his head, and prayed for strength, speed, and wisdom. Then, in a bounding overwatch military formation, they silently infiltrated the village. They moved like shadows, weapons ready.

That adrenaline rush Rick needed flooded his system, making his nerves tingle and his senses kick into high alert. He heard every sound, saw every shadow, assessed every possible threat.