“Cooperation is appreciated.” Mackey turned to Scott. “We’ll get started, Commander.”
“Good hunting, Major.”
Mackey left, leaving silence in his wake.
“It’s 1900. I take it we’re flying. Suggestions?” Hunt would prefer a quick resolution. These loose ends were not helpful to overall mission objectives.
Doogie twirled a pen. “Copter ride. South route to avoid current hot zones. Fast and easy. Forty minutes. Get to the house. Make an assessment. We’ll stay in radio contact. Exfil by same. Back to base. A few fine details to work out in there, but nothing we can’t handle.”
“Rules of engagement orders?” Hunt again looked at Scott.
“Don’t engage unless you must. The quieter we can get in, the better. Command would prefer you not leave behind a bunch of angry or dead villagers. Reid needs to be alive, too. I’m guessing, given Haquiri’s death, that the woman and the boy may have info about IQS. We might be able to use them to find his hiding place.” Scott turned to look at the map on one of the screens. “We have two views of the location. Go over that and get prepped.”
Scott turned away, leaving the men to organize the mission. Hunt listened, throwing in contributions as necessary. Thirty minutes later,they had the order of things. “Somebody check the weather?”
“Already did,” Hernandez answered. “We’re good. Both places. Looks like a chilly night but no storms.”
“Let’s get geared up.” Hunt ordered and rose. “Stay on task. Let’s get this done.”
∞∞∞∞∞
Cait frowned at another knock on her door. “Fiddlesticks. I just got comfortable.” She spoke to the door, then hoped the person on the other side hadn’t heard her. It wasn’t Hunt. He hadn’t been gone for an hour when he messaged he was going out and not to worry.
What would they accomplish in the dark? She didn’t want to know. It was their standard operating time, and she didn’t want to speculate. It wouldn’t help ease the weight on her heart.
A knock sounded again.
She rose, setting aside her drawing and computer. She put on her heavy sweater over her sweatpants and shirt. “Who is it?
“Duncan.”
Eyes wide, questions crowded her mind. He’d never visited her quarters before. Of course, they were friends, but he did outrank her and, while not forbidden, he was all about avoiding the appearance. Opening the door, she looked him over. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I want to talk. Go for a walk?”
“Outside in the cold? Hell, no. Come in.”
Duncan smirked. “People will talk.”
“I don’t care,” she announced, getting snippy. “Get in here.”
He stepped into the room. “I want to close the door. I don’t think we need ears.”
“Yes, by all means. We don’t need the draft either.”
She went to her hot pot, added water again, and turned it on. This would be the fifth packet tonight. At this rate, Jackie would have to ship another case before Christmas.
“What are you doing?”
“Making hot chocolate. I assume you want some?”
“Sure,” he said, not sounding sure at all.
“What’s the problem, Duncan?”
“I heard they’re launching a major offensive in the morning. I’m worried about you.” He unzipped his jacket. He had dressed casually, too.
“Why the worry?” But Hunt had said tonight. She shrugged the thought off. He wouldn’t lie to her, and gossip was notoriously wrong.