Page 24 of Tactically Acquired

“Aren’t you from California?” I asked casually.

“Ya know, there are currently twenty thousand people missing in California right this minute,” IRIS said, shuffling a deck of cards in the backseat.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He shrugged. “Just found it interesting. We could be those missing people. Who knows where Thumper could take us.”

“Definitely not to the airport because Bob’s Airport doesn’t exist on any fucking map in California!”

I frowned at him, sure I had heard him wrong. “It’s not really called Bob’s Airport, is it? That’s a terrible name for an airport.”

Thumper slowly turned and glared at me.

“I’m just saying…no one names an airport after Bob.”

“It would be easier, though,” IRIS said thoughtfully. “Birmingham-Shuttlesworth International Airport. Talk about a mouthful.”

“Did you punch the directions into the nav system?”

“Of course, I put them in the nav system,” Thumper snapped. “Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?”

“Deadhorse Airport. Do they just have a bunch of dead horses there? Kind of creepy.”

I tapped the screen, but Thumper knocked my hand away. “I’m just saying, maybe you got the address wrong.”

“Because I’m stupid? Is that what you’re saying? I’m so fucking stupid that I couldn’t figure out how to punch a three instead of a four?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Gustavus Airport.”

“You could just pull over and ask for directions,” I suggested.

“I don’t need to pull over.”

I looked out the window and spotted a gas station on the corner. “Right there. I bet they know where the airport is. Gas station attendants know everything.”

“Unalaska Airport. Are they no longer Alaskan?”

I rolled my eyes at IRIS, about to snap at him, but never got the opportunity.

“So now you’re saying a gas station attendant could outsmart me? I served tour after fucking tour, but I can’t figure out the directions to a fucking airport?”

“It would appear that way,” I grumbled.

“Wiley Post-Will Rogers Memorial Airport.”

“Or maybe I should pull over so you can drive.”

“I would appreciate that,” I snapped.

“Maybe it’s the home of Wile E. Coyote and Mr. Rogers…” IRIS pondered. “Although, I don’t know why they’d name an airport after them.”

I spun around in my seat and slammed my fist into IRIS’s face. “Would you shut the fuck up?”

He gripped his jaw as he caught himself on the seat. “Ow! Man, what the hell was that for?”

“For annoying the hell out of me.”

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