by Nico Rosso
“And I don’t have macho teammates getting butthurt when I outshoot them.” Not to mention the under-their-breath comments about her breasts getting in the way of her shooting platform, or how they thought she’d go full Rambo and win the war herself during her period. “They mostly shut up after I’d given them cover fire from three quarters of a mile away during a compound search at the edge of Khost.”
“We did a little business over there.” His voice was flat.
“Probably tracking down the leads we found.” The road blackened and took more of her concentration.
“Or cleaning up your mess.”
“I’m always clean.”
“Yeah,” he conceded. “I’ve seen it.” The glow from his phone revealed the calm focus on his face. “Seven more clicks.”
She pulled a night vision monocular from a pouch on her vest and held it to her eye. The landscape brightened into shades of grainy green. The road was crisp in the contrast with the trees on each edge, allowing her to pick up her speed.
Ben leaned forward in his seat as his energy charged back up. “No doubt you could outshoot me from range. But door kicking...”
“I’ve spent plenty of time in the shooting rooms.” Practicing and practicing, until drawing her gun and firing into an enemy was purely instinct, without thought. Was she completely thoughtless now, a tactical machine?
“Sounds a lot like Delta training.” She heard the smirk in his voice.
“I’ve heard of Delta. They’re real secretive, right?” She tried to keep the sarcasm down, but it leaked out.
“But not as badass as Balboa13.”
“Hell no.”
Ben handled the piece of history she’d given him with care. She felt less like a machine.
“One click ahead.” He tilted his head from side to side, loosening. “For CQC, though, nobody beats me.”
“From what I hear, you do a lot of work up close.” One side of the road widened to a large turnout edged with tall trees. She drove off the asphalt, over the gravel and into the thick of the forest. They’d be invisible from the highway.
He opened his door, smile flashing in the dim light. “The only complaints come from the bad guys.”
A moment later they were both outside the car and closing the doors as quietly as possible. The forest air was cold and dry. She met Ben in front of the car and they looked over the map on his phone. Her finger traced a route from their location to the pulsing circle that indicated the police chief. Ben nodded his agreement and moved out.
She maintained a close position behind him. They moved by starlight into the thickening forest. Black trees striped against a slate sky. Dry pine needles crackled under their feet. She rested her left hand on Ben’s shoulder and followed his path while checking behind them. No signs of activity there.
Even though they hadn’t trained together, their movement through the forest remained quiet and fluid. His awareness kept them moving forward. She scanned their perimeter and six o’clock for any threats.
They stopped and lowered themselves into the shelter of the trunk of a large pine and checked over the phone’s map. Ben had it dimmed so it barely made more light than the sliver of a moon that slung close to the western horizon. They were still half a kilometer to the target. Anticipation built in her. So far the mission had been a collection of loose ends that needed tying. They had no idea what they’d find in this forest, but hard evidence would allow her to start making a plan of attack.
Ben whispered, “Maybe the chief has a cabin out here for liaisons.”
“More like a horseshoe set, the way he’s walking back and forth.” The indicator had been moving in a jagged line through a contained area.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with late-night country games. Maybe we should just leave him be.” Instead, he moved out of his crouch to resume their stalk.
She kept pace with his efficient movement. Careful and calculated. She felt how his muscles propelled him, as if there was no barrier he couldn’t get around. He was a real operator. She’d known men like that before. Automatik was populated with them. But she hadn’t kissed any of them. And none of them had learned as much of her as Ben had.
Feeling him against her as they progressed through the forest was more than tactical. The mission wasn’t jeopardized, but she was certainly aware of how her body soaked in each contact between them. And when they separated for a moment, her nerves yearned for the touch again.
He stopped suddenly, and she pressed close to him. The grip of her holstered pistol knocked against the knife on his belt. With or without their gear, they were both deadly. Together and naked, they could be more than that. She steadied her legs and pushed away the carnal thoughts.
Ben held up a finger and tilted his head. She listened, then caught the faint sound of distant idling engines. He waggled his eyebrows and smiled. They were on target. She leaned against him in the direction of the action. For a moment they pressed together. Like a primer and an explosive.
He moved, and they resumed their trek. But their bodies seemed to remain closer, more coordinated. The sound of the engines grew louder. The forest thinned, and a chill wind chopped in through the trees. She smelled diesel exhaust and tapped Ben on the shoulder. He nodded and motioned the direction he was proceeding.
They broke through the trees and went down to their bellies. A dirt and pine needle carpet brushed away under her hands as she moved forward. Soon she crawled slowly across hard stone with Ben at her side. The wind brought men’s voices from nearby. They spoke over the sound of the engines.
She felt her way forward on a rock until there was nothing left to touch. The sounds were coming from below. She and Ben were hidden on the edge of a bluff, fifty feet above a long clearing in the forest below. Semi trucks idled there, and men milled about. A few of the trucks were bare, while most were hitched to trailers or empty flatbeds. The light of the trucks revealed that at least a half dozen men carried assault rifles, most of them military grade.
Ben slowly extended his phone for her to see. They were right on top of the police chief’s position. Ben’s face remained still and grim. “Target acquired.”
Chapter Seven
Ben had lain down with a few women in his time. Bar pickups, or friends of friends. The party spots in San Diego he knew were tailor-made for casual hookups. One or two nights. Maybe three, then everyone moved on. Her bed, his bed, it didn’t really matter.
But he’d never taken up a tactical position with a woman before. He’d never been this close to Mary during an op. They’d usually been separated by around a thousand meters. Her presence had only been felt through her cool voice over the radio or her hot .50 rounds smashing into the hostile territory around him.
With his shoulder and hip and leg against hers, he felt the unhurried processes of her body as she inhabited the warfighter space. Her steady hands attached a night vision monocular to a telescopic sight and brought it to her eye.
She scowled. “Bad guys.”
He stowed his phone and put together his own sighting rig. Despite trying to keep himself from idling too high during the ride in the car, he’d been itching to get out and move. The quiet conversation between him and Mary in the lead-up to the action had put a charge in him. What was the release? They hadn’t been driving to her place, wherever that might be, for a glass of wine by the fire and the time and space to find out what the two of them would really be like together. Her strong body fit his during their insertion walk to the rocky overlook. They’d moved perfectly.
He’d barely noticed the cold night. His situational awareness had remained frosty, but heat had pumped through him as he’d felt her hand on his back and leg brushing his. The smallest touch brought back the kiss. Raw and real.
Fifty feet above gunrunners in the middle of the night wasn’t the best place fo
r a make-out session. Ben refocused on the op.
Green hues carved out the scene below him as he swept the night vision over the trucks and men. Assault rifles. Holstered pistols. Empty trucks. Steaming cups of coffee and a lot of talk. A group of about ten men huddled together next to one of the flatbeds. The men with the assault rifles maintained perimeter watch.
“There’s the chief. Ten-thirty, talking to the group.” He heard Mary shift slightly to that view. “Pulaski. Shitty jump shot, but I’m sure he’s quick on the trigger when it comes to protecting his interests.”
“Two of your BFFs from the diner are there, too.” Anger crept into her whisper. “I was hoping you’d put them in the hospital.”
“Couldn’t sacrifice the mission for a moment of pleasure.” He scanned the area. The knit cap trucker he’d kicked in the knee sat on the step of a semi, his bad leg outstretched. “I mark all three.” Another man in the group turned, and Ben recognized his aggressive stance. “And one of the cops from the gas station and rec center. Angry and cocked.”
“Second in command?” A hint of anger spiked her words.
“More like muscle. Seems too keyed up for leadership.”
“They’re going over a plan.”
Chief Pulaski held a clipboard and pointed at it, then at different men.
“Routes, distribution, timing.” Ben would’ve loved to get his hands on that clipboard. “A ton of planning to make all this movement not look like an illegal gun convoy.”
She huffed out in frustration. “I can’t lip-read through the night vision.”
The tech helped them see meager details, but the rest was a muddy wash. “So far they’re all agreeing with their assignments. All nods, no arguments. The chief doesn’t need a second in command.”
“But maybe he’s not the top dog. We still haven’t identified Kit Daily.”
“He’s probably warm in his bed full of blood money.”
Mary’s posture tightened slightly as she zeroed in on something. “His foreman isn’t. Len’s on the perimeter of the group. Tall man at the five o’clock.”
Ben identified the figure. The blocky man watched, shifting from foot to foot and blowing into his hands. “None of the chief’s directions go his way.”
“The foreman’s keeping an eye on his boss’s interests.”
“Kit Daily needs a talking to.”
“Fast.” She growled. “Winter is going to completely wipe this area out.”
The huddle of men broke up, with Chief Pulaski getting the last word and the guys nodding. The angry cop stayed with his chief as the foreman exchanged a few sentences, then ambled off. The meeting was over and the men returned to their trucks, including Ben’s playmates from the parking lot.
“Everything moves before the snow comes in.” He stowed his night vision and slid backward from the bluff, away from any possibility of being spotted. Once clear, he pulled out his phone and brought up the messaging app that tied them to the rest of the Automatik team. He murmured as he typed what information they’d learned. “Trains and trucks will be long gone in two weeks. Maximum.”
Mary detached herself from the rock and eased back to cover with him. “Maybe we can get hints of a timeline at the train yard.” Small clicks indicated she was disassembling her telescopic night vision rig.
More headlights blinked on and glowed in the valley below them. Truck engines revved and moved out.
“And it’ll give us an idea of how much merchandise they have to move.” He stowed his own gear in preparation for egress. “How big was the warehouse?”
“Two that I could see. Twenty-five thousand square feet each?”
Truck after truck exited the staging area while Ben and Mary lay on the ground and waited for the sounds to disappear. After a few minutes, the forest and hills returned to silence.
His body ached to move. “Now it’s cold.”
“It’s still better than trying to sell mixed-use real estate developments.” She pulled herself into a crouch and eased toward the forest. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about with this stuff.”
He trailed behind her lead position with a hand on her shoulder. “So real estate wasn’t your plan B?”
“Prison was my plan B.” Her words were as quiet as her footsteps.
He was stunned. “You mentioned Balboa13, but I didn’t know what kind of bad news you were into.”
“Bad, bad news,” she whispered. “I told you we got our revenge for my brother’s killing. I was eighteen by then. Prison for sure if I’d been caught.”
He stopped in his tracks. Like a weight had been dropped on his shoulders and he couldn’t breathe.
She paused and turned back to him. “What is it?”
“You’ve never had a day off, have you?” No wonder she was so strong, after a lifetime of fighting.
She exhaled a small laugh. “I usually work nights.”
The two of them stood and navigated through the trees toward the car.
He didn’t know how he could reach through all of her history and offer any solace, so he confessed, “Spent a little time in the brig.”
“I thought your mother raised you right.”
“She raised me not to take shit from cowboys.” He’d had to win each fight and scuffle he’d been in since joining the SEALs in order to prove himself. Any time trial, any race, he’d had to come in first.
“I like her.”
“Me, too.” His mother’s fierce work ethic and support of him had pushed him through to the top. And beyond. Even after retiring from the Navy, he strove to make a difference, which had led him into the secret teams of Automatik.
“What does she think of your parade of women?” Mary didn’t turn to look at him and her voice remained flat. Like a razor.
“I don’t text her the details.” But there’d always been not-so-subtle hints, like when his mother would ask if she should do some extra shopping for his lady friend during the holidays. “My dad would probably want to hear them, though. Shudder.”
A forest fog laugh drifted back to him. Trailing behind Mary was like following a spirit. She moved with ease, her body fluid as she snaked around obstacles. A true ghost operator. And a woman revealed in glimpses. He wanted to know her, and that led him into more obscure shadows than the territory around him.
The trees gave way toward the highway. Mary located the car and got in the driver’s seat. He took up the passenger position and settled in for the return trip. He brought up his phone’s tracking app and showed her the chief’s position back toward town. The area should be clear.
She started the engine and moved out. The motor hummed, and the heater fan whirred. Neither he nor Mary spoke. He looked over the map on his phone to track where the trucks would outlet from the state park into the town and surrounding areas. Because there was so much long-range interstate commerce in the area, the web of roads would make hiding the fleet easy. Trains would move out from the area as well, taking the contraband weapons to every corner of the country. The warehouses were the hub. That was where his and Mary’s business was.
And there was business between them. Her map wasn’t as clear to him. Navigating closer to her surrounded him in the unknown. He didn’t even know himself. A stronger trust developed, tied with the personal information passed between them. This connection went beyond functional or tactical. And it made him want to give her more, while she fed him pieces of what made the woman behind the rifle.
They descended from the state park and sped through the planes back toward town. There was no sign of the dispersed trucks. She turned the headlights on.
He sat back in the chair and murmured, “Just a couple of normal people out for a drive.”
“Is that what you want?” She glanced at him, then back at the road.
Normal had been drilled out of him years ago. Now he could sleep with his finger on the trigger, half buried in mud. It seemed he seldom woke up and fell asleep on the same continent.
“I want...” He knew the mission specifics and the reason he’d joined Automatik. To make a difference and protect people without the red tape of bad bureaucratic decisions. Other than fieldwork, he hadn’t thought about the question. “I want...” The truth was too volatile to hold back. “I want Mary.”
“Mary Long?” She scoffed as if he was joking.
“‘Bolt Action’ Mary,” he explained.
Her look of surprise pierced him. Like she was using a knife to pry him open and see if he really meant it. “Damn it,” she cursed, eyes growing wider. He saw it, too. A police car parked at an angle on the side of the road.
“Shit.” He turned in his seat and saw the police lights turn on and the car pull out after them. “We were riding clean, right?”
“Yeah.” Her focus split between the road ahead and the pursuing car in the rearview mirror. “Speed limit, straight line.”
“Maybe whoever you stole it from reported it.”
The cop car came closer. Ben went into alert, blood pumping and muscles ready to act.
“Not likely.” She was still calm as a glacier. “I requisitioned it from long-term parking at the bus station and there are no busses due until tomorrow morning.”
“The cops are shaking down anyone who doesn’t belong.” They both still wore their black field gear. “And we definitely don’t belong.”
“There’s a backpack in the backseat.” She tilted her head in that direction. “Dump the contents, then secure yourself. I’m going to lose them.”
The police siren chirped behind them, and their lights loomed. Ben leaned over the backseat and found the small plaid backpack. It rattled when he grabbed it and when he unzipped it, the contents of empty beer cans and energy drink containers spilled out, along with assorted food wrappers.
“Motherfucking teenage joyride.” His breath was nearly taken and he looked between the planted evidence and Mary with a flood of respect. He returned to the passenger seat and made sure his seat belt was secure. “You’re a genius.”