Page 8 of Remade

“It makes perfect sense,” he argued. “Speak clearly and preferably with words that can’t be mistaken for something else in the same context. The use of copy, out, wilco, and so on—that’s a judgment call based on stress, how many are on the frequency, and necessity. I think the one rule outside the Hillcroft premises is saying ‘Repeat.’”

“That’s still a no-no?”

“Unless you’re looking to fire again.”

Okay, that was good, I supposed. I scratched my forehead. “All right. So what’s happening now? The men aren’t coming any closer.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He cleared his throat. “Coach says there was no way those men had access to guns in the van. Would you agree?”

“Yes,” I said. “He did a search.”

“Good. Are you up for playing bait? Chances are they won’t approach further as long as I’m here.” He flicked a pointed glance at the strap for his M4.

“Yeah, sure. I’m game.” Even though it made me a little nervous. But nerves were good, right? My first week in Operator Riggs’s class, he’d said being nervous meant your nervous system functioned as it should.

He’d added other words too, something about transmitters and responding to dangers and… Yeah. Either way.

My nervous system was very nervous.

“Was that why you wanted me to hide my gun?” I asked.

“That’s just my general rule. When you’re outnumbered, get them comfortable by looking like an ill-prepared underdog too. An arrogant enemy makes mistakes.”

That was sort of brilliant.

“And they say crayon-eaters are dumb.”

He grinned and shook his head. “We’re gonna get along just fine, you and me. Now, get ready for a hug before I go. I’m gonna slip my sidearm into one of your lower pockets—it’s the same one you have. If the van folk come over, you’ll make sure they see your empty holster. Secondly, you’re gonna take my earpiece. Three taps on the button will get you to the line where you can communicate directly with Beckett and nobody else.”

“Copy.” I nodded. “And if those men charge?”

“If they attack you, they’ve chosen their side, and they will be treated accordingly. You eliminate the threat.”

“Yessir.” I opened my lower side pocket when he hugged me, making the transfer of his gun easier, and then I took the earpiece from his ear and inserted it into my own. “How far away will you be?”

“Just down the slope, so we’re outta sight,” he replied. “Beckett, Crew, and Hudson are already there.”

Okay, that was a relief. The slope down to our makeshift camp wasn’t far away.

I felt the weight of his gun hit my pocket right before he backed away, and without another word, he was off.

I tapped the little button three times, then faked a cough in my fist. “Leighton here.”

I heard Beckett’s exhale.

“Good to hear your voice, pup. We are twenty-two yards away, and I have you in my sights. Just act like it’s two in the morning and you have fire guard, except there’s no bathroom you can jerk off in.”

I stifled a laugh and started to pace slowly, aimlessly, between two trees that were roughly ten yards apart. Which reminded me…

“Can’t we just stick to one way of measuring things?” I asked, making sure I didn’t move my lips too much. “Feet, yards, klicks, miles, meters…”

“How did that question go over in the service?” Beckett asked.

I sighed.

Ryan disappeared out of sight, and I refocused so I could keep the immigrant workers in my periphery. I really hoped they didn’t do anything stupid, because I wasn’t wired to lose my shit on those who were already lying down. The way I saw it, they were being trafficked.

I pulled out my phone in an attempt to look unprepared, and I saw I had three texts from Tanner and one from Miguel. Those would have to wait. Maybe I could change my wallpaper… I’d noticed Ryan’s background had been black. No family pictures and very few apps. But it must’ve been his private cell, considering all the photos.

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