Page 72 of Shadow Undercover

“Bite me,” Rafe snapped.

Seeing Bridget’s confusion, Trace said, “Rafe is a retired SEAL and recent escapee from the FBI. The feds kept him so busy rolling from case to case that he hasn’t had enough time to maintain his SEAL fitness level.”

“We train at PSI once a year,” Ben said to Rafe. “An abbreviated course. Two weeks, max.”

“Thank goodness. I should have known Commander Maddox would install the toughest trainers to run his school.”

“Count yourself lucky.” Trace sat beside Bridget. “The normal training regimen is a minimum of six months. You skated by with a sissy eight-week course.”

“After you finish training at PSI, you’ll be assigned to a team. Your leader will run you ragged.” Joe grinned. “Ask Nico how easy he takes it on us.”

Rafe half laughed, half groaned. “Great. Just what I need. Another drill instructor.”

Trace grinned. “Yeah, we’re crying in sympathy for your aches and pains, buddy. Now, what news did you have for us?”

“I put out feelers on your boy, Hugo. He’s been busy.”

“We know he’s trolling for a hitman. Z used one of my aliases to contact him.”

“Did he bite?”

“We’re meeting day after tomorrow. No word yet on where.”

“From what I hear, he’s cagey.”

“More like obsessive,” Ben said.

“What else do you have?” Joe asked.

“Hugo has a sizable amount of chlorine gas in his possession and a buyer ready to purchase the whole supply.”

“Location of the stash?”

“Unknown. It’s a closely guarded secret. Hugo’s worried a rival will steal the supply and sell the gas in the open market.”

Trace’s gut twisted into a knot. “Do you know the identity of the buyer?”

“No. My source says the buyer lives in the States. The feds are scrambling to uncover the buyer’s identity before the sale goes through.”

“Great.” Ben rubbed the back of his neck, frustration palpable. “Over 300 million suspects to weed through. No problem.”

“I know it’s not much.”

“Any idea how the gas will be spread?” Trace asked.

“Missile.”

“How will the buyer score a missile?” Sam grabbed a plate and slid on three slices of pizza. “Even if Hugo finds one, how will he transport the missile across the border into the US?”

“Tough job if it’s in one piece,” Rafe confirmed. “The easiest thing to do is dismantle the missile and pack it across the border using Pedro’s drug routes.”

“Does you know where Hugo went to ground?” Trace coasted his hand lightly up and down Bridget’s back.

“Mexico.”

Oh, man. “The Chihuahua province?”

“Affirmative. He’s rumored to be near Ciudad de Oro.”

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