Page 9 of Lucky Charm
“Fine. Come with me.”
“Into operations?” Doogie groaned, his eyes rounding in mock fear.
Hunt smirked. “No reason I should have to suffer by myself.” He liked spreading joy as much as Scott did.
The cramped Operations Center was eerily devoid of personnel, except for the three men in the room who were currently not engaging in a whit of conversation. Stiff posture coupled with tense set faces raised Hunt’s wariness. Scott didn’t like the men in his domain again any more than he had the first time. He was puffed like a blowfish.
Scott rose. “What’s your status?”
Doogie answered. “Ready to go. Picking up Captain Michaels 0600.”
Hunt took another slug of his coffee and kept silent.
Doogie settled by the door, holding the wall in place – his usual tactic to stay out of a verbal fray.
Scott indicated the two men. “Give us a quick brief on the missing man. We missed that earlier.”
Stocker opened his mouth to reply, but Quaid beat him to it. “Baltimore Douglas Reid III. He’s been in the CIA for a decade. He’s been embedded with Haquiri for about a year. Has checked in regularly with small bits of info then went off the grid.
“What does he look like?”
Stocker turned and punched a button on the computer and the man’s face popped onto a mounted screen. Dark hair, beard, scar down his cheek. He looked like any other native, not American.
“His father is an ambassador, and he’s been out of touch longer than normal for him. He’s last known location was in this village with a contingent of other local men, Haquiri’s army so much as it is. That’s all we know.” Quaid hesitated but shook his head. “That’s all.”
Hunt studied the man’s face. Something else there but he would not get distracted from Doc’s protection. “You alone looking for him or will you need help from us?”
Quaid gave it a minute’s thought and shook his head. “I think the less looking for him the better. Don’t want to call too much attention to a search and compromise him in any way.”
Stocker zipped his coat. “That’s all we’ve got. Appreciate you letting Quaid see what else is there. We don’t leave our people behind.”
“Neither do we.” Hunt signaled Doog. They left the room. Seemed straight forward enough, but he wasn’t about to jinx the whole op by thinking nothing could go wrong. It frequently did, and at the worst time.
∞∞∞∞∞
The U.S. flags draped over the two Army Special Forces soldiers in the ER were not a good sign for her mission. Joint Medical Theatre fought like hell to keep people alive. When they failed, the loss was bitter to swallow.
Dr. Cait Michaels stopped at the reception station to shove on her gloves. Last minute supplies were stuffed into the backpack at her feet. She’d like to say the early hour was the beginning of another workday, but that’s not the way it worked. Twenty-four hours open, wounded and sick all the time. Technically, Operation Resolute Support Mission stabilized the Afghan government, police, and military. Whether it was called a war zone or not, troops still died. More so lately.
A group of soldiers came into the main hospital from the ambulance bay they fondly called WarriorWay, and the wind snapped the door away skittering sand and debris across the entrance floor. Cait shivered in her jacket. Seems the wind had shifted, bringing a cold blast that confirmed weather predictions. November was always a waiting game for cold weather, and she hoped the storm would stall until she returned. Snow while in a warm hospital she could handle. Out in it? Uh-Uh.
Restless she glanced at her watch. 0540.
“Need some coffee?” Jo approached, paperwork in hand.
Cait shook her head and smiled. “You draw the short stick?”
Jo grinned. “Came with the standard warnings and a good luck.”
Cait smoothed her gloves into a better position. “Can we say you gave me the required safety briefing and call it good? It’s not my first rodeo, and no I don’t need any coffee. I purposely kept liquids to minimize stops on the drive.”
“Smart.”
“Cold.” She shivered into her jacket. “They don’t have gas stations with a restroom on every corner, and I ain’t freezing my nicer body parts when I can not drink anything.”
Jo grinned again, but the lines of the smile looked forced.
“Are you okay? Tough day.”
