Peña scowled. “The joint chiefs lent one team to Katangela to aid in eradicating Chukuwereije. They did that so we could do this covertly. Remember that word? Covert?”

Rick spoke up. “Which leads us back to a firefight in the streets of the capital city. I don’t see that being a good thing.” He looked at Colonel Jenkins. “What are your orders now, sir?”

“We’ll know by tomorrow. Make sure all your reports are complete. Take it easy. Get good chow and good sleep. Try to stick to embassy grounds and the hotel. Like you said, we don’t know who to trust. On that note, try not to look like an American SF team when you’re in public. If you see something, say something. All of you update each other.” He looked at Peña. “Lieutenant, I want you to confer with the intelligence office here at the embassy. Get a read on real-time info on Chuckie that doesn’t have to go through me first, and if anybody gives you static, call my cell directly. I’ll unstop any stops if I have to kick the ambassador’s door down to do it. Get me? They’re expecting you at ten thirty.”

Peña nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Colonel Jenkins released them. Rick gave some brief instructions to his team, then sought out Sergeant Waller. He found him at a Navy corpsman’s computer terminal in the little Marine sick bay near the back of the embassy grounds.

“Colonel Jenkins tells me you’re from Kentucky.”

Waller looked up from the computer screen, and his hands slid off the keyboard. “Sorry, sir. Didn’t hear you come in. I was emailing my wife.” He stood. “I’m from Charula. Probably never heard of it.”

“Charula? Really?”

“Born and raised.”

“Ever been to Norton’s Hardware?”

Waller’s eyes skimmed Rick’s name tag. “You kin?”

“My father is the Norton.”

Waller grinned and crossed his arms. “That a fact?”

“Small Army, huh?”

“Small Army.” Waller gestured toward the computer with his head. “My wife is from there too. We were high school sweethearts.”

“Go, Mighty Eagles,” Rick said. He held out his hand and Waller took it. The other man’s grip was strong and sure. “Welcome to the team.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s an honor to be a part of it.” He gestured toward the hospital area. “I went to AIT with Ozzy. I’m thankful to have the opportunity to serve in his unit.”

Emotion filled Rick’s throat, and he cleared it. “He’s a good man.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter
Fourteen

As she skimmed the notes on Bill’s chart, Cynthia pulled the wheeled stool close to his bed and perched on it. “You’ll need to go home for a little while,” she said. “Your body has to heal.”

“I feel fine,” he said. He picked at the sheet covering his lap. “I can’t stand being cooped up like this.”