Page 23 of What Remains

“So.” Driver cocked an eyebrow. “You heard about that.”

“Let’s just say we had a long drive, and Flowers had a lot to get off his chest.”

Silence. Driver’s features were as void of expression now as if the man’s face were carved from a lump of cold granite. Although his eyes, dark and glittery even in daylight, held a new malice and for the first time, John wondered if maybe he’d gone too far, revealed too much, shown his hand too early. Before this moment, he’d had no true idea what he could or even wanted to do with the story Flowers had shared during that drive to the aqueduct.

Finally, Driver said, “Blackmail, Worthy?”

This man could kill him where he stood, could snuff out his life with his bare hands. Get into a physical fight with Driver, and John had no doubt at all thathewouldn’t come up the winner. Driver could break his neck, do away with Davila so there would be no witnesses—and then report back either that, gee, the guys we were sent to rescue weren’t there or, gosh, all he found were bodies. If Harvey knew what was good for him, he would go along with whatever Driver ordered.

“No, not blackmail,” John said. “Manum manus lawate.”

“Ah.” Driver chewed on that a moment. “What do I get out of this? Besides Brownie points in the Cosmic Ledger of Life.”

“A damned good hired gun with very little to lose. Although I do, mostly, enjoy living and draw the line at jumping out of a plane. Will I have to?”

“Not unless you fall out or I give you a push. We will have to call for an extraction. That’ll be by helo, best guess, but that’s down the line. Depends on our people’s conditions.”

“As in fitness?”

“As in whether we need to hump them out in body bags. Broadly speaking, though, yes, how we get them out depends on whether they’re in one piece.”

“What happens if they can’t hike out?”

“How good are you at a fireman’s carry?”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly. They might be wounded, in bad shape, or both. Why do you think Harvey has some serious muscles? But let’s cross that particular bridge when we come to it.”

“How many people are you retrieving?”

“Best case? Alive?” Driver held up two fingers.

“Do you know for certain that they’re alive?”

“No,” Driver said. “But we live in hope.”

3

Davila didn’t like it.

“I don’t like it,” Davila groused. He had waited until before Driver and Harvey had tramped down to the van with cans of gas and supplies. “We’re not supposed to get separated.”

“As I recall, you were the one who told me I’d have to go on alone. Left foot, please.” Having bundled Davila into his parka, he took hold of Davila’s left ankle and worked the foot into a left boot. As he tightened the laces, he said, “We’ve been over this. Harvey drives us back to Khorog, where there’s a decent hospital. We split up there. Harvey will stay and make sure you get the meds you need, and then the two of you will either go up to Dushanbe on your own or someone will come get you.Thenyou get your ass out of the country and back to your wife.” He paused then added, “I was going to say Patterson, but I think you’ll have way more fun kissing your wife.”

“True, but that’s not the point.”

“No. The point is you can’t go on, Davila, but I have to. This plan also gives you the best chance of making it back withallof your arm instead of only most of it.”

“I still don’t have to like it.” Davila scowled. “I don’t know those guys from Adam.Youbarely know Driver.”

“I know enough.”If loving the same woman counts.He concentrated on knotting the lace, throwing in a double-knot for good measure. “Too tight? Wiggle your toes.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” After a short silence, Davila said, “This makes me feel about five years old.” Then, without turning his head, he went on, “And what about our little Mowgli here? What’s going to happen to him?”

John didn’t look either, though he felt Matvey’s eyes on them both. The boy was sticking close, not talking much or moving more than necessary.As if he thinks that by making himself very small, we’ll just forget about him until it’s time to go back to the States.He bet if Matvey could, he’d fold himself into Davila’s duffel and take his chances.

“I don’t know,” he said, slotting Davila’s right foot into a boot. “Wearen’t going to do anything other than leave him with you. Thenyouwill make sure he gets to some aide agency that can track down his parents.”

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