1
Jason Reilly rana polishing cloth over the gleaming silver fuselage of the P51 Mustang, his muscles flexing with each stroke. The late afternoon sun baked the historic hangar, turning it into a sweltering oven. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking his thin t-shirt as he worked.
August had hit hard in the high desert. Not that he minded. He’d gladly take the heat, the bone-cracking winter cold, even the dust-storms whipping the find sand off the dried lakebeds to the south, over any time he spent on the run hunting his enemies.
Plus, High Sierra heat had nothing on the sweatbox that was a summer in Kandahar. Or Beirut. Nothing like being stuck in yet another blasted-out cement apartment complex, lying on his belly for hours, waiting for a chance to take the one shot his team counted on him to make.
He paused, surveying the restored fighter plane with a mix of pride and restlessness. The aircraft looked ready to take on the world. Unlike its owner. He scanned the horizon, searching for threats that existed only in his mind and ran a calloused hand along the Mustang’s wing, his eyes tracing the iconic silhouette. “Ready for action,” he muttered. “I just wish there was some.”
The faint rumble of an approaching vehicle caught his attention. He cocked his head, listening. The purr of a high-performance engine. Definitely not his sister Jane’s minivan. The vehicle pulled onto the refurbished taxiway, the bright red of the Jeep contrasting with the deep black asphalt.
Sunday dinner.
He had forgotten. Bridger and Jane confirmed the plans at church just a few hours ago. Man, he was losing it.
His friend, and now brother-in-law, Bridger North pulled his Jeep to a stop just inside the hangar and rolled down his window. “Yo, Reilly. You planning on broiling yourself in here all day?”
Jason tossed the cloth aside. “It’s a dry heat.”
Bridger laughed. “Whatever that means. Jane sent me to drag your sorry butt back to the house. Said if you don’t show up for dinner, she’ll come get you herself.”
Jason grimaced. “Not gonna happen.”
Bridger’s eyebrows shot up. “You really want to test that theory? Remember the ice bucket incident of ‘22?”
“Point taken.” He grabbed his water bottle, downing half of it in one long gulp. He and Bridger and their six special forces teammates might be tough, but his sister Jane was not one to be crossed. Even by men used to facing down enemy fire. “Give me five to close up shop.”
Bridger nodded. “I’ve got the AC blasting.” He rolled up the window and eased back in the driver’s seat.
Jason screwed the top back on the can of car polish and did a final walk-around of the hangar. Everything in its place. Neat. Orderly. Under control.
Just the way he rolled.
He joined Bridger in the Jeep, relishing the rush of cool air. “Nothing new, I’m guessing.”
They hadn’t heard so much as a word about the Consortium’s newest iteration since they stopped the international terrorist group from unleashing a global economy-killing software virus. That had been over six months ago.
Bridger shook his head. “Radio silence across the board. It’s like the entire Consortium network just ... vanished.”
But they knew differently. The enemy might have gone to ground temporarily, but there were already signs that the cabal of highly networked government officials and their billionaire funders known as the Consortium had splintered, leaving a new threat.
Jason swiped a forearm across his forehead, brushing away the cooling sweat. “You know those billionaire boys didn’t blow apart the Consortium just for kicks. They’ve got something big in the works.”
“For sure. World domination or annihilation of the human race. The usual.” Bridger’s attempt at levity fell flat.
Jason stared out the window, watching the parched landscape pass by. Waves of heat rolled up from the valley floor, distorting the horizon. Six months of inaction weighed on him like a physical burden. But with no active targets, there was no one to chase. “I hate this waiting game.”
Bridger shot him a sympathetic look. “You and me both. But for now, all we can do is stay ready. And try not to drive the fam insane in the meantime.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m a joy to be around.”
“Sure you are, sunshine. Just remember that when Jane threatens to sic Kellen on you.”
“Bring it on.” He loved his nine-year old nephew. His only regret was missing out on the past few years with the boy.
Jason eyed his buddy. He’d never seen his friend looking so tired. “I’m not the only one running hot. You look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a grizzly.”
Bridger ran a hand through his messy hair. “Thanks. I needed that ego boost.”