Page 36 of Tango

“Maybe it wasn’t them, but it will be when I tell the story.”

“Not everyone loves the limelight like you do, Castillo. That could backfire in several different ways,” I snapped. A lazy smirk ran across his face as he sat back in my office chair and kicked his feet up on my desk.

“So, the bitch is alive. Well, that changes things.” He flipped open the lid on my box of Partagas Lusitanias cigars. “Bring her to me.”

“Listen, Castillo. We’re safe for the moment, but we’ve gotta move soon, and I can’t move fast. I have an idea you might like. I think we play this differently.”

“You’ve got my attention.”

“Host a dinner, invite everyone who was at the auction, including Chili. One of them wanted her dead badly enough to attack our convoy. So, let’s give ’em what they want. We’ll kill the bitch in front of everyone.” I knew he’d like the irony since he was the one behind the attack.

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because the bitch shot me. This isn’t worth the money anymore. I want revenge.”

Castillo leaned back in my chair and blew smoke toward the ceiling as he mulled over my idea.

“I’ll be in touch.”

Everyone was silent as we watched Castillo hang up. Frank moved toward the table as the guys all turned their heads toward me, and I felt the heat in my face.

“Well—” Frank started to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him as I saw Castillo dial another number.

“You failed. They’re both alive. I’m giving you one more chance.”

Ty

There was something unsettling about not knowing the men who were about to drop with you from a chopper into a war zone. I knew my plan inside and out and was confident I could get to where I needed to go. I just didn’t have Moore to watch my six, and that proved harder to accept than I expected. But he was there for Ivy, and once I remembered that, my anxiety dropped immediately. He was where I needed him most.

I leaned back and thought about the morning I left.

I couldn’t sleep. I rehearsed my plan over and over from the moment I’d arrive in south central Asia. My brain drew an invisible map on the ceiling. I could envision the drop-off point, the main roads, the road into town, and the truck that waited for me there. I’d jump in the truck without being seen, change into local clothing, and get dropped off near the market. Then I’d make my way to the house where Brown was shot. I had to be hyperaware of any Taliban who might be watching the town. It was a longshot to find any evidence at all, let alone get statements, and maybe an eyewitness on video. Best case, get out before nightfall with some type of proof in hand. Worst case, I didn’t return at all.

Ivy shifted her warm body into mine, and I kissed her head.

We had said our goodbyes a few times without actually using words. I felt it would be best if I slipped out quietly and didn’t make it emotional.

“I promise I’ll come back to you,” I whispered. “It’s only forty-eight hours.” I breathed in her scent and saved it in my memory. “I love you.”

Somehow, I pulled myself away and left her.

“Hey,” I opened my eyes to find the team captain’s face in mine, “our pickup location’s been compromised.” I quickly pulled out my map and drew a mental X over the old spot. He pointed. “Head here instead.”

“Roger that.” I studied the map and memorized the new location.

“Frank filled me in.” He used short cryptic sentences, as my mission wasn’t meant for the others. “I called a guy who has eyes in town, and it’s crawling with roaches.” He paused. “Locals are careful. Look for friendlies. They have a green stripe along the stock of their weapon.” He showed me on his own. “Green stripe, not a roach.”

“Got it.” I held my fist up, and we bumped knuckles.

An hour later, the chopper hovered steadily as we zipped down the ropes and I prepared to head east.

“Beckett!” I barely heard my name over the noise of the chopper above us. I looked back. The captain held his hands around his mouth to project his voice. “We have orders to abort at twenty-three hundred,” he yelled then tapped his wrist. “Don’t make us leave without you.”

“Roger that. Good luck,” I called back. I slung my rucksack over my shoulders and began my long hike toward the town.

The wind blew the dust around, so I secured a rag around my nose and mouth. I fell into old habits. I scanned the mountaintops and listened for horses, gunshots off in the distance, movements on the horizon. It was almost as if I hadn’t left. Almost.

When I stopped to check the time and drink some water, I fingered Halim’s bracelet. I’d worn it as a reminder that Brown’s death hadn’t been for nothing. With the rescue of the boy, Halim, Frank was able to use his father’s favor to dig deeper into the Taliban world. It allowed him a way to keep a closer eye for any indication they planned anything against America. I still couldn’t help but wonder if the added stress of the boy was what pushed Brown over the edge. I may not have realized just how far gone my friend had been and had dismissed the signs because we were so close to going home. Either way, Hill had to be paid back for what he’d done, and I was here to find something—anything on him to prove it. I needed to avenge my friend. He hadn’t deserved to be taken out by one of our own, and it ate at me. Hill was going down.

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