Page 62 of Deadly Strain

Chapter Fourteen

“We have to get thesesamples to the lab in Bahrain yesterday,” Grace told Leonard.

“Where are you going to stop for fuel? Every military base between here and Bahrain has probably been alerted.”

“Colonel Maximillian will pave the way,” she argued. “He—”

“Maybe,” Leonard interrupted. “But how fast can he do that? If Marshall’s already issued orders and has people looking for you, it’s going to take a while for new orders to reach them.”

“They’ll want to confirm those orders,” Sharp added. “That will take even more time.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Grace said between clenched teeth. “Is there nowhere else to get fuel besides American military bases?”

“There aren’t any Coalition forces’ bases left,” Sharp said. “We’d have to stop at a civilian airport or landing field. Anyone with an ax to grind with American military could take a shot at us.”

Grace’s hopes fell.

“There is one place,” Leonard said in a faintly hesitant tone. “A friend of Cutter’s set up a not-quite-legal emporium near the border between Afghanistan and Iran at an abandoned military base.”

“I hear abutin there somewhere,” Grace said.

“But this guy is a little on the shady side.”

“Do you know the coordinates?”

“No, but Cutter has them in his journal. If you decide to go there, donotlet your guard down around this guy.”

“Journal?” Sharp asked. “What journal?”

“Cutter keeps it with him, usually under his clothes.” Leonard backed away a step. “I’ve got to get back. We’ve got our hands full with someone taking shots at us every once in a while. We had to turn away some family members who wanted to get into the village. Make sure you read through the journal. There might be more info in there you can use.”

Sharp waved. “Thanks, man. Take care of yourself.”

“Same goes for you.” Leonard glanced at Grace and saluted.

She saluted back as Smoke started up the engine again. She made her way back to her seat, but Sharp, Hernandez, Runnel, and March went to Cutter’s body. Sharp searched his body for the journal and found it under his clothes, in a plastic bag strapped to Cutter’s lower back. He handed her the book, then helped the rest of his team rewrap their commander’s body in the tarp.

Grace looked at the tattered book in her hands. The plastic covering was coated in blood. Cutter’s blood. She ripped the plastic off, unable to look at his blood for another moment more.

The team secured the body to the bulkhead, then returned to their seats.

Sharp took the journal and skimmed. About three-quarters of the way through, he stopped to read a couple of pages more thoroughly.

“Fuck.” He shook his head.

“Did you find it?” She couldn’t tell if he’d found the information or not.

“Yes.” He looked around at the team and gave them the coordinates to Cutter’s friend’s Afghan emporium.

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