Page 9 of Silent Comrade
“For sure.”
Red snorted as he pressed another bug to thetop of the compact refrigerator. “Hey, how is Kiera and her newbaby? No ill effects from…”
“Kiera being drugged and sedated? The babycoming early? They’re doing surprisingly well. That child has evenour crusty ol’ CO wrapped around her cute little finger.”
“It’s good for him.” Red froze. “But Jake’sbaby is … okay?” Their teammate had conceived this child.
“Doc says she’s as healthy as a six-poundbundle of joy can be.” Keyboard clicks accompanied Stumpy rollinghis lips together, the two parts of his goatee meeting in themiddle. “No issues from Jake’s virus that we can tell.”
“Thank God.”
“Got that right. How’s the mission withBritt?”
“Exhausting. This woman doesn’t stop moving.Ever.” Except for now. He pulled up the feed. She sat in the café,chin on her hands, staring at the table.Damn it.He flippedback to Stumpy’s face.
“If she can wear you out, then that’s sayinga lot. How’d you get uninterrupted access to the apartment?”
“Uh. Stood her up for a date.”
“My man, that’s cold.” A gleam lit thecomputer expert’s narrowed eyes as he leaned closer to the screen.“Hmm.”
“What?”
“You feel bad about that, don’t you?”
A wash of heat poured through Red’s chest.“It’s a nasty move to pull, yes.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Stump. I have a mission tocomplete. This is business.”
White teeth flashed on the screen. “Methinkshe protests too much.”
“Bug off.” Red chuckled. “Or bug on, as thecase may be.” He glanced toward the front door, imagining Lequire’smen right outside, waiting. Egress, ingress. He catalogued time anddistance, over and over. “All done?”
Another series of clicks, and Stumpy nodded.“We’re set. You should be able to see the feeds on your devices aswell.”
He did a quick test to confirm. “Good. Igotta get moving.” He patted his legs, hip, and lower back. Weaponssecure and accessible. As if he needed to check.
Stumpy turned his head and hollered over hisshoulder, then turned back to Red. “Hold up, Hunt’s here. Staytight, my man.” He gave a two-fingered salute and disappeared.
“You too.” Hunt’s lantern-jaw face with thesalt-and-pepper flattop filled the screen, and Red instinctivelysnapped to attention. “Sir.”
“Sitrep.”
“No discernable activity from Lequire’s camphere. Team status?”
“Operational.” He rubbed his square chinwith the palm of a meaty hand. “All’s quiet with Rivera and Peleright now. That doesn’t reassure me.” His grinding voice soundedlike gravel falling into a pit.
“Roger that. No activity I can detect here.Thought maybe I heard something yesterday, but it was my earsgetting too sensitive.”
Hunt squinted. “You staying on top of yourantidote?” Right. Because Red was the fastest cycler on the teamwhen it came to how frequently he required temporary suppression ofthe virus.
Doc and Hunt had theories as to what wouldhappen if the soldiers missed the absolute cutoff times for theirantidotes. Theories that no one wanted to test. Best guess: youdidn’t come back once the virus took you over the edge of sanity.Red scrubbed his face. “Yes, sir. Plenty of supply here. I’m on topof it.”
“Good, because you’re it until we get thingsbuttoned up here. Christ, we’re rebuilding our entire world. It’sgoing to be weeks before we’re fully operable and secure. Pele’sgot his hands full wrangling the other McNeill sister, and Godknows how many drinks and card games Rivera will have to endure ifhe’s going to stick close to their dad.”
Red shook his head. “What if things getFUBAR down here?”
