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Back Stop at Nothing Save as PDF
Contents ( 98)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. 63
  64. 64
  65. 65
  66. 66
  67. 67
  68. 68
  69. 69
  70. 70
  71. 71
  72. 72
  73. 73
  74. 74
  75. 75
  76. 76
  77. 77
  78. 78
  79. 79
  80. 80
  81. 81
  82. 82
  83. 83
  84. 84
  85. 85
  86. 86
  87. 87
  88. 88
  89. 89
  90. 90
  91. 91
  92. 92
  93. 93
  94. 94
  95. 95
  96. 96
  97. 97
  98. EPILOGUE

Ruby beamed at the growing dread on Reyland’s face.

“He’s also done covert ops, boss. Ninety-six, he was Special Actions Division in Africa. In ninety-eight, he was South America with the same group. In twenty-oh-one, he was deployed to Afghanistan with the CIA first expeditionary force in search of Osama bin Laden.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Ruiz said.

“After that he switched to the DIA. Iraq and Afghanistan ops. Year after year after year. Eight tours, Reyland. Eight! This guy’s killed more people than fentanyl. He must have joined the NYPD after cycling out of the SEALs.”

Ruiz looked down at the water in panic.

“I knew it,” he said. “This guy is a seasoned hunter-killer recon cowboy, and my guys don’t know!”

“Emerson, listen to me. Are you sure about this? Are you sure?” Reyland said into the radio as he sat up straight.

They all listened. There was the scratch of empty signal. The sound of the wind.

“Emerson, come in. Over,” Reyland said.

Reyland crackled the thumb piece again but there was just more fuzz.

“Emerson, come in. Over,” Reyland said again.

They listened, but there was still nothing but the sound of crickets from the darkness and the soft rustle of wind in the fronds of the palms.

85

Across the rim of the depression, Ruiz suddenly crouched and backed away from the firelight. His M4 glistened as he shifted it up to his shoulder, pointing it up the path Emerson had gone.

“Reyland, listen to me,” he called across the sinkhole. “Where the hell is the other gun? The one with the FLIR heat scope?”

“It’s in the Gator. Emerson has it,” Reyland said.

Reyland lifted the radio and keyed it again.

“Emerson. Emerson, come in. Over,” he said.

“Emerson is dead,” Ruiz said, not taking his eyes off the trail.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Reyland said.

“I don’t know how, but this script has shifted,” said Ruiz. “This SEAL has pulled a fast one on us. We need to get out of here and I mean now, Reyland. Get on that quad and turn it over and drive it over to me here. Do it now.”

“You’re crazy,” Reyland said. “Emerson’s battery died or something. This guy’s still under the—”

The radio dropped from Reyland’s hand as a sharp crack of scratchy signal feedback suddenly sounded out of it.

“Hello, Reyland,” said a new voice from its speaker where it lay between his feet.

Ruby looked up at the dark sky, smiling as she felt her heart soar. It was impossible. But yet there it was.

It was Gannon’s voice.

“Reyland. Come in, Reyland,” Gannon said with a sharp whistle. “Come in, Assistant Special Deputy Agent Reyland, you bald ugly bastard. What? You don’t want to talk to me now?”

Reyland stood up out of the camp chair slowly.

“No sudden movements, asshole,” Gannon said from the dropped radio. “I have a bead on you right now with this rifle’s beautiful FLIR scope. What did you think? I’d hide everything somewhere where there was no back door? Welcome to my house, shit for brains.