Page 24 of Evening Shadows

“I’ve been with you for months now. I’m not new.”

“Sure, we popped your cherry months ago, but you’re still our FNG.”

The first time one of the guys had said that to her, Sam had gone ballistic. Not used to their military jargon, she hadn’t understood that it meant first time in combat or for them, first time on an op. She’d quickly searched the acronym on her phone and gave a smile as she confirmed, “Fucking new guy.” Except she’d replaced it with girl.

Even though she’d been with them for a while, her argument had no merit. She’d be the newbie until they hired someone else.

“Sorry, Sugar. It wasn’t until you were hired that they stopped calling me FNG,” Doc said.

“But they call you Doc,” she argued.

“Of course they do, I’m your medic.”

“Wait a second,” she interjected, “we just hired Casper, so I’m not the new guy.”

Sam had a good point, but Ken had an inkling of what the men would say, mostly because they enjoyed teasing her. She took it like a champ and gave it right back.

“But he’s Bravo team’s FNG. You’re ours,” Cowboy said, and Ken thought there’d been pride in his voice even if the stretching of her designation was thin.

Asking no one in particular, she tossed out, “You just make up your own rules as you go along, don’t you?”

“That’s S.O.P,” Franks said.

“Standard operating procedure, my ass,” Sam huffed.

Ken closed his eyes. He didn’t normally mind their bickering—knowing it was one of the ways they passed the time as they waited and grounded them—but this case had him tied up in knots. Beverly had left her son alone for way too long to fend for himself. A week. For Christ’s sake, who did shit like that? While he didn’t know this Alejandro, the man might be right about how the boy was better off with him. Yet, he could be into crimes against children.

Devon not being able to dig up much on the man worried him, though. As far as they could tell, the man had resided in Mexico his entire life. So, why couldn’t Devon give them a profile of him? And how had he come to be in a relationship with Beverly in the first place?

“Are you going to join us, Boss?” Franks asked.

Ken looked at Jesse, remembering the conversation they’d had on this subject. Not wanting to hamper the team, but with a burning need to be involved in this rescue, he answered, “Yes.” At least none of them called him a “broke dick.” He’d always hated that lingo. Especially when women were around. Yet, soldiers still used it. Old habits were hard to break.

“Damn, it’ll be good to have you back.” Franks’s statement told him a great deal about the man.

As they neared the airport, Stone interrupted the silence with a curse. “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.” That got everyone’s attention—what the fuck always did—and only silence breathed through the three vehicles. “Boss, she’s Oscar Mike.”

“Son of a bitch.” Jesse said what Ken would’ve. Why was the woman on the move?

“Should we follow her?” Franks asked.

“Let me see what I can do on my end.” He’d almost forgotten Devon remained conferenced into the call.

Damn the woman. What the hell was she playing at?

Torn on whether to follow the crazy woman or act on a lead that seemed solid, Ken turned to Jesse. “I know Trent needs the help, but if we need it, can we get the fam?”

“I already sent them out on a charter, but each took their gear and will return for whatever you need. Bravo team ran into a snafu so they won’t be available right away.”

Before he could ask what happened to Grits’s team, Sam leaned forward. “How do you know she’s moving?”

Stone answered, “We put a tracker on her car. S.O.P.”

Not willing to trust anyone in these types of cases, they placed tracking devices on every vehicle involved.

“We continue to Mexico. Watch where she’s going and we’ll figure things out from there,” Ken directed.

“I’ll lose her in the air,” Stone informed him.

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