Page 90 of Visions, Paws, and Claws

Hashtag’s face tightened for a second, then relaxed. “Yes, sir.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what had just gone through his mind. Saul gave him a sympathetic glance. “I know, you wanna be in the thick of it, but this is a huge operation. Our most powerful weapon is intel, and that means we need our best on it. And like the man said, that’s you.”

“And it’s not as if you have a problem following orders. Right, soldier?” Horvan stared at him.

Hashtag straightened. “No, sir.”

Horvan smiled. “That’s what I thought. We’re assuming Fielding will arrive by plane, so we’ll take out whatever transportation we find there, mainly because we don’t want him to leave.” That earned a few snorts. “The buildings include a science block, what Milo called a reeducation block—basically where they conduct interviews or keep prisoners isolated—four barracks for the guards, five sleeping quarters for the inmates… you get the idea.”

“We’ve been going over the information Milo gave Horvan,” Johan continued, “and we think we’ve come up with a plan of attack. I’m going to lead Aelryn’s forces. We’ll be Team B.”

“And Saul, you’ll be in charge of our troops, Team A,” Horvan concluded.

Saul peered at the map. “How many men are we taking?”

“We think fifty should be enough, but we’re waiting on any last-minute information from Milo.”

Johan sighed. “It had better be enough. What with all the missions currently being conducted around the globe, it’s all we could scrape together.”

Saul perched on the edge of the table. “What are the variables?”

“We know there are usually about seventy guards at the camp, but we don’t know if they’re going to bring in more men for this goddamn inspection, or if Fielding is bringing his own team with him.” Horvan scowled. “We also don’t know when he arrives exactly, or how long he’s staying at the camp. He could be planning to be there less than twenty-four hours for all we know.” He glanced at Eve. “Have you had much experience of camp inspections?”

She frowned. “Two that I can recall, but they were both different. One was a last-minute visit with no warning, and that put the wind up the camp commander.”

Hashtag frowned. “Put the wind up? What does that mean?”

“It’s a British phrase meaning scared the bejesus out of.” Eve rolled her eyes.

Then Roadkill stilled. “Wait. You’re British?”

“I was born in the UK, but my parents moved here when I was ten years old.”

“Is that why you don’t have a strong accent?”

She laughed. “My parents would disagree with you on that one. I was involved in intelligence work, so I needed to learn to speak like an American. My natural voice? Definitely not like this.”

“Then what do you really sound like?” Hashtag demanded.

Eve locked gazes with him. “Why do you need to know? Got a thing for Brits?”

That flush told Saul she’d nailed it.

Hashtag huffed. “Well, fuck. That’s just great.”

“What’s wrong?” Eve demanded.

“Now I have to learn another language.”

Roadkill shook his head. “What the fuck are you talking about? It’s still English.”

He gave a goofy smile. “Yeah, but English never sounded that good. And you know what this means, right? We have to learn to like tea and drink it with our pinkies up. I’m too old to learn new shit like that.”

Eve chuckled. “Trust me, baby, you’re not. I’ve gotallkinds of things I’ll want you to learn for me.”

Hashtag’s cheeks pinked. “You think you could talk British tonight? You know, when we’re—”

“Excuse me?” Saul glared at them. “Would it be okay with the three of you if we focused on the present situation? Leave theflirting for the bedroom, for fuck’s sake.” He stared at Eve. “Back to what you were telling us about surprise inspections.”

---