Edge of Reason (EDGE Security Series Book 2) (10 page)

“Good. Does everyone speak Hausa?”

“No,” both Zach and Rhys said.

“Enough to get by,” Cat said, while Marc just nodded.
 

If they had two speakers of the most prominent language of Nigeria on their small team, then they’d be in good stead for the mission.

Blackwell shut off the virtual screen with a swipe of his hand, signaling the end of the briefing. “Good luck, and keep me informed.”

At 0455 hours, Rhys waited with his teammates in the dark on the rooftop of the E.D.G.E. building. The high walls protected them from sight, but not from the cold air that whipped toward them from the Griffon helicopter that would transport them to the jet flying them to Germany.
 

With his kit at his feet and his rifle slung over his shoulder, Rhys watched Cat speak quietly with Blackwell, who’d come to see them off. In the last week, he’d come to respect the woman as a soldier and as a leader, and nothing proved leadership skills more than actual combat. Cat had already shown she was competent and fierce in battle.

He’d seen more than one officer lose it when the bullets started to fly. Admittedly, he hadn’t seen it since he’d become a SEAL, because weak officers never made it through training in any of the spec ops forces.

It was because she was a woman that he still doubted her ability, he acknowledged to himself. Even though he’d seen her in Nigeria and on that mountaintop in Afghanistan, he still worried. Her other teammates accepted her and he could see their trust in her, but he had to admit he still needed further proof. Damn. He hadn’t thought he was a chauvinist.
 

Even so, he just couldn’t get over the feeling. He was going to have to do something about it. No way could he go on a mission with doubts about his team leader.
 

“Time to go,” Cat yelled over the noise of the rotors.
 

He lowered his head and stared at his boots. Could he go?

Black boots stepped into his view. “Lafayette?” Cat said.

He met her gaze and saw the steel there.
 

Her chin raised. “If you can’t follow my orders,” she said, “you know you don’t belong.”

He struggled to view her as just another soldier. She was physically competent, intelligent, and calm under pressure. He had to believe she could do this. He wouldn’t let his prejudices harm the mission. And he refused to let himself treat her differently than he would any other leader. Time to shut off his small brain and only think with his big one, as his grand-mère used to say.

He nodded. “Copy that, Valkyrie,” he said. “I’m good to go.”

Her shoulders relaxed subtly. “Then let’s do this.”

The Black Hawk helicopter’s rotors threw up a mini dust storm as it settled to the ground at the airbase in Niger. Just before they’d landed, Cat had caught a glimpse of the Yobe River in the distance.
 

It had been a long trip. Cat’s BDU shirt clung to her back with sweat. Dirt grimed her face, and her eyes begged to close, but her stomach complained most loudly of all. The rest of her team looked like she felt, though Rhys grinned like a kid on his birthday as he flicked through the deck of cards in his hand. He didn’t look at them as he flipped them over and under his fingers, the suits flashing by too quickly to see.
 

The Black Hawk barely jostled her when it landed. The pilot wasn’t part of SOAR, the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, but he still had some nice skills. She made a mental note to request him for their mission exfil.

She grabbed her pack and her weapons bag and jumped off the helicopter with a wave to the pilot. Her team followed.
 

The base wasn’t large, just enough to house a couple of Black Hawks, two MH-6 Little Birds, and three Predators—the remote-controlled drones used for surveillance and sometimes a bit of extra firepower, since each of the MQ-1s carried two Hellfire missiles. Cat would rather the next-generation MQ-9 Reapers be here since they carried fifteen times the ordnance, but she knew they shouldn’t need the backup. If they did, then something had gone drastically wrong with the mission.

It would be a quick in and out, she repeated to herself.

The MH-6 Little Birds were used by the U.S. special operations forces for insertion, so Cat knew there probably were a couple of SOAR pilots around and some operators. She made a mental note to find them to see about intel for the area.

The base HQ was a squat concrete building that looked like it might have once been a school. Around it were the sturdy temporary shelters the military deployed in situations like this. To the side of the small landing strip were the three thirty-foot trailers that housed the operating systems and pilots for each Predator.
 

The airbase was here to help the West African nations with surveillance of the Boko Haram and similar militant Islamic groups. One of the activities the world knew them to be doing was trying to find the two hundred schoolgirls who had been kidnapped by the ruthless leader of Boko Haram.
 

They hadn’t had any luck, and she knew how wearying such a defeat could be. The narrowed eyes and grim faces of the soldiers they passed attested to this. Too many of them gave her second glances, some appraising, some wary, and some lustful. She braced herself as she headed toward the HQ where she’d find Colonel Harris.
 

Rhys strode up beside her. “You’ve been here before.”
 

She nodded. “A previous mission. Nothing hugely classified—the team helped search for those girls.” They’d spent weeks following any lead, hoping to save some of the girls. They’d gotten a few out, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
 

She left her team in the admin section of HQ, where a sergeant briefed them for their short stay on the base. Then, she knocked on the CO’s door.

“Enter,” he barked.

Colonel Harris had the attitude of a Rottweiler in the body of a bull terrier. Lean and hard, his aggression seemed to increase in direct proportion to the height difference between him and whomever he was speaking with. It doubled when he spoke with a woman.

Cat grit her teeth, dropped her kit just inside the door, and walked into his office. It smelled of the cigarillos he favored. His gaze narrowed. “Well, look who Cat dragged in.”

She stood at attention. “Nice to see you too, sir.”

He sat silently, letting her stay at attention. She clenched her teeth harder.

“I’d heard you couldn’t handle spec ops anymore and quit. So what are you doing here?”

She wondered if she’d have any teeth left when this conversation was over, she was grinding them so hard. “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s classified.”

“I may not be special operations, but I’m a colonel in the United States Air Force and I have top-secret clearance,” he said.

“Sorry, sir.” In a normal situation she’d have filled the base CO in on her mission as best she could, out of respect, but that wasn’t happening here. “I’m sure you’ve been told what you need to know.”

“That some spec ops unit which I’m not even allowed to know the name of is coming in, and that I have to give you what you ask for? That doesn’t fly with me, young lady.”

Young lady?

“I am still a captain in the Canadian Army,” she said. “You will address me as such.” She paused. “Sir.”

He stood up, but even standing he couldn’t meet her gaze with her standing at attention and looking straight ahead. “I’m sure you will find everything you need,
Captain
. But don’t expect any special treatment. As far as I know your team is nothing special and you’ll have to put in a requisition form for anything you need, just like everyone else on this godforsaken base.”

Now she lowered her gaze and met him straight on. “You have orders not to hinder this mission in any way.”

“I won’t hinder you, Captain, but if you can’t handle working without special treatment then maybe you shouldn’t be in the Army.” He sat back down. “Dismissed.”

Cat grabbed her kit and left without another word, striding back to the others.

Zach took one look at her and shook his head. “So the colonel’s still an ass?”

She didn’t respond because she knew she’d start venting the anger that had built up, and they didn’t have time for that. “Did they give you bunks?”

“Yes, and who to go to for basic intel,” Zach said.
 

He pointed to one of the shelters and told her the officer in charge of intel. Hopefully, he’d be more accommodating than the colonel.

“And the nice sergeant also told us there are rumored to be some D-boys here,” Marc said. “They should be able to help us with more intel, since they’re probably here running black ops.”

“Something else the colonel won’t know about,” Cat said. “And it’s part of the reason why he’s got such a freaking huge chip on his shoulder.”

Cat shrugged off the colonel’s tantrum. Time to work. She checked her watch. “Local time is 1100 hours. Let’s grab some food, some rack time, and then meet at 1800 for mission brief. Barring any further issues, we head out at oh-dark-thirty.”

Once Rhys and the guys dumped their kit on some spare bunks, they made their way to the chow hall. Cat stood inside waiting for them. The tent was fairly full as soldiers came in for lunch.
 

Almost like a high school cafeteria with its cliques, the soldiers sat with their units each in different areas. Raucous laughter and brash talk designated the regular-force Army unit sitting around most of the perimeter. Rhys figured they were posted here for base security. The air force personnel sat in the center talking quietly, unconcerned that they were surrounded.
 

A few hard-looking but quiet men in the corner had beards and longer hair. They moved with a controlled athleticism and faded into the background, trying not to be noticed. But in the midst of the soldiers, everyone noticed the Delta Force warriors.

The D-boys in the corner tracked E.D.G.E.’s movement to the chow line. Rhys nodded at them and they nodded back before turning back to their discussion.
 

Lunch turned out to be a chicken and plantain stew over rice, with enough spices to satisfy a New Orleans boy like himself. He sat beside Cat with his back to the tent wall, down the long table from the other spec ops guys.

None of them spoke as they ate, all of them focused on fuel before getting some sleep. Cat frowned at her stew, but ate quickly. Rhys could see the tightness around her eyes. Whatever the CO had said, she hadn’t liked it.

He ate the flavorful stew and made a note to drink extra water before sleep. It tasted like the cooks used a lot of salt. Cat tensed beside him. He followed her gaze to see a Canadian Army major walking toward them, his eyes on Cat. A small curse escaped her.

“You good?” he asked.

She gave a sharp nod. “Fine.”

“Catherine,” the major said. “It’s been a long time.”

 
Cat stood up, her face stony. “Steve.” She nodded at his epaulettes. “Congrats on making major.”

He shrugged. “Bound to happen, right?” Rhys didn’t like the way the guy’s eyes moved to Cat’s shoulders, free of any epaulettes denoting rank. “They attached me to an American unit when they promoted me. What are you doing here?” His eyes scanned the other three members of the team. “I thought you’d left CSOR.”

“I did,” Cat said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to prep for a briefing.”

Cat strode away without a glance back. Steve watched her go and Rhys had to bite back a smile at the frustration on his face. The guy didn’t bother to look at them, and walked after her. He did stop by a few of the rowdy regular-force soldiers on the other side of the tent, and spoke with them for a few seconds before heading out. The soldiers followed him.

Zach took a last spoonful of stew and then stood up. “This could be interesting.”

“How so?” Rhys stood to follow, too.
 

“The major was an old flame of Cat’s before she joined CSOR. Word has it that he tried out too, but failed. He couldn’t handle that she got in and started spreading shit about her.”
 

“What kind?”

“Said she’d slept her way into the job.” Zach snorted. “Fucking prick got found out and hand-slapped, but the rumors had already done their damage.”
 

Anger sparked inside Rhys. “Let’s go see what the prick is up to then.”

The three of them dumped their bowls in the bins at the end of the table and went out into the heat and sun. Rhys paused.

Cat was nowhere to be seen, but the soldiers, who’d followed the major out, stood speaking with each other in low tones near the latrines.
 

The major leaned against the wall of the CO’s building, far enough away to not be associated with the soldiers, but close enough to watch what went on. Rhys’s gut tightened. He did not like this.

“Seriously?” Marc said. “They’re really going to do this? I don’t know how she stands it.”

Cat walked out of the washrooms and stopped, her gaze scanning the men before her. The soldiers faced her and spread out.

“Why?” Rhys asked as he jogged over, Marc and Zach right beside him. No way were these guys going to ambush one of his teammates.

“They hear she’s spec ops and they either think she screwed her way in, or they lowered the standards,” Zach said. “Either way, they want their shot to prove she’s not deserving.”

“Dumb fucks,” Marc muttered.
 

“What’s going on?” Rhys called out as he shouldered his way to the front of the group.

“Oh, I see,” the leader of the group, a young, muscled corporal said and snickered. “You’ve got your guys here to help you out. Tell me, boys,” he said as he turned to Rhys, “is she a good fuck? Maybe me and the boys could borrow your combat Barbie.”

Rhys got in the corporal’s face. “Listen, asshole—”

“Stand down,” Cat said.

But Rhys couldn’t step aside and let Cat be insulted. “You’re going to regret ever say—”

“Lucky, stand down!”

Cat’s words penetrated and he shut up, but he didn’t move from his position until Cat elbowed him aside and stepped in front of him, keeping her hands loose at her sides as she faced the muscled corporal in front of her. “You in charge of this group of idiots?”