Page 29 of Generation Lost

“Sly, I’m getting a migraine,” said Gaspar, rubbing his eyes.

“There were more than twenty young women in t-shirts sitting on the deck in a circle, men guarding them. By the time they turned back around to take another look at the ship, it was gone.”

“What’s the name of this ship?” asked Nine.

“You’re going to think I’m lying, but it’s calledFirst Bank,” smirked Sly.

“Who is it owned by?” asked Ian.

“A phantom investment group. I’m still trying to identify the owners but my guess is our oligarch’s involved already.”

“Where was she headed?” asked Ghost, standing.

“From what we can see, toward the Caribbean. The manifest says Bolivar.”

“Get eyes on it,” said Gaspar. “I think it’s time we took one. Get the boat ready.”

“Liketheboat,” smirked Sly.

“Theboat. Make sure everything is working perfectly, load her with ammo and explosives. We’re taking this one for the team,” said Gaspar.

“Not without me,” said Miller, leaning against the door.

“Brother, it’s time we took more risks,” said Gaspar.

“Fuck that, mon frére,” laughed Miller. “We all take enough risks that we should have been dead years ago. This one you’ll need more hands than four. You’ve got three SEALs. Let’s bring a few more that can help. You’re gonna need assistance with all them girls.”

Gaspar looked at the others, and they nodded.

“Alright. Who else?”

“Us,” came the echo behind Miller in the hallway. The four leaders looked out the door and laughed, shaking their heads. Lined up against the wall were Max, Wilson, Cruz, Angel, Trak, Gibbie, Rory, and Jazz.

“Um, they weren’t all SEALs,” smirked Nine.

“Nope, but we damn sure know how to have fun, and he’s right,” said Rory, nodding at Miller. “You’re going to need help. The kind we can all give. If we’re not giving this shit up for good, let’s go all in.”

“Everyone feel the same?” asked Ghost. “You know we said we wouldn’t do these kinds of jobs any longer.”

“We know,” nodded Gibbie. “But if we don’t, who will? It’s pretty obvious that our government has sold their souls and doesn’t give a shit. Too bad we do.”

“Trak? You feeling healthy?” asked Nine. He pulled his shirt up, revealing a completely healed cut. He’d visited the pond, and as usual, it did its job. “Alright. We do this the right way. We’ve gone in flying by the seat of our pants too many times. We’ll plan and plan again. Bring more than we actually need.”

“No offense to anyone, but we’re all fucking slower than we were twenty years ago. Yeah, we’re in good health, and yeah, we’re still fucking badass. But we are old and slower. They won’t know that or see that. Stealth the entire way,” said Gaspar.

“We’ll board her from the starboard side,” said Ghost. “Stealth suits over our wetsuits in the dark. We’ll be impossible to see. Focus on getting the girls off that fucking ship first.”

“It looks like there’s a cargo load area here,” said Gibbie, pointing to the photo. “Cruz, Trak, and me can get down there, open it, and hand the girls to you from that opening. Miller, Max, and Jazz can set the charges. We leave, the cargo door is open, and everything goes boom.” Nine nodded at the other men in the room.

“Sly? Send all the cameras we can toward that damn ship. I want to know what’s on it. All of it. Do they have weapons? How many men? I want no surprises. Our wives are going to be seriously pissed off.”

“Cruz? You and Wilson get everything you think we might need to help those young women. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. We have no idea whether they’ve been drugged, raped, beaten, nothing. Some may need medication that we don’t carry. Let’s be prepared for this.”

“And what happens when the government calls and says we know it was you?” asked Ian.

“We do what we do best,” said Ghost. “We play stupid.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

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