Carter shook his head. “What’s your plan then?”

“We escort him out into that open field, well away from everyone and anything, and then we send in a robot or someone in a bomb disposal suit. That’ll be Nic’s call. He used to do that kind of thing all the time in Iraq.”

“Really.”

“Yeah, remember that Hurt Locker movie? That’s the kind of stupidity he used to be involved in.”

“He’s still alive, so he must have been pretty good at what he did,” Carter said.

“You should tell that to your buddies at Quantico. They won’t accept him into your snobby FBI academy.”

“What did they give as a reason?”

“They didn’t, at first, and when he pushed the issue, he received a letter in legalese saying that it’s the admission board’s right to refuse entry based on ethical concerns. Or something like that. Personally, I don’t think it’s fair to judge someone by their lineage, but they didn’t ask me about it.”

Taz helped Stromberg get Lamar to his feet and told the big blond officer to escort the prisoner into the safe zone. Then Sgt. Ortiz clicked his shoulder-mounted radio and said, “Kaplan, is everyone clear? We good to transpo?”

He received nothing but static in return. Taz swore in Spanish and said, “Kaplan, do you read me?”

“They set up jamming equipment in the building, remember,” Carter said. “It’s probably blocking your radios.”

“Crap. That’s right. Okay, I’ll go out first to make sure everyone is clear. Strom, you give me sixty seconds and walk him out.”

Stromberg nodded, but then he looked down at the bomb and swallowed hard.

Taz slapped his subordinate on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, rookie. As stupid as you are, you won’t survive long in this job anyway. If it ain’t today, it will probably just be tomorrow. You should probably accept it and make your peace with Odin or Thor or whoever it is your Viking people pray to.”

Taz gave Carter a wink, while Stromberg rolled his eyes, a bit more at ease. “I’d rather it be tomorrow, boss,” the rookie said. “I have a date tonight.”

“You don’t have to lie to make friends, rook.”

“I’m serious. In fact, I have a super-hot date tonight.”

Taz raised his eyebrows. “Really. That’s great. What’s his name?”

“She is a dancer at the Mandalay Bay, and she’s gorgeous.”

“Good for you, rook. And don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Taz said as he headed for the door. “We’ll get you home in time for your date with the stripper.”

“She’s not a stripper,” Stromberg said. “She’s in the Polynesian show!” But Taz was already gone.

Carter merely shook his head. He had seen commanding officers like Taz several times over the course of his career. The sergeant used humor to try and ease the tension his men felt from putting their lives on the line day after day, week after week. It wasn’t Carter’s style, but Ortiz seemed to have the respect of his men and was good at what he did, so it was hard to argue with his methodology.