Page 46 of Generation Lost

“Grip was at the airport swapping out the carts already on the plane. In the other locations, we sent Archie, Nathan, Yori, and Franklin. At each one, they swapped out the bags and sent them on their way.”

“I can’t believe this,” smirked Miller. “You guys did all that?”

“It was fun,” laughed Tony. “Really fun.”

“Tony was in D.C. with us. While Michael was in the oval office, he was at the president’s personal computer and phone, downloading everything we would need to nail his ass to the wall,” said Nine.

“Outstanding, Tony,” said Whiskey.

“Thanks. It felt good to make up for what happened when I, well, when I died.” The others chuckled, nodding their heads.

“There was nothing to make up for, Tony. You’ve always been a huge part of this team, and we love you for it.”

“Thank you, guys. Of course, it was easier knowing that they couldn’t see me and I couldn’t die again.”

Luke, Cam, Eric, and Hex stared at the four older men seated before them. They cocked their heads, giving them a disbelieving look.

“No offense, Dad, guys, but you’ve said this shit before. You’ll only take certain cases. The slumlord, the guy out to get the little man. We’ve heard this before,” said Luke. “Don’t get us wrong. We love seeing you guys so active. It gives us hope for our old age.”

“Asshole,” muttered Gaspar. “You are old, you little shit! Your sons will be sitting there soon enough.” That brought a frown to their faces, staring at the elder statesmen.

“Listen, we’re fine with whatever you guys want to do, you know that,” said Eric. “But what’s this about not taking cases for the government any longer?”

“We’ve been fucked over, time and time again,” said Ian. “We’re not taking them any longer. If you guys want to, great. But we’re out on that.”

“Actually,” said Hex. “We’ve had a few conversations along this line as well. If we don’t take cases from them, we don’t have to worry about going after people like the ones we just took down and asking for permission. We do what we want when we want.”

“That was the goal all along,” said Ghost. “We didn’t want all the bureaucracy.”

“How many contracts do we currently have with the government?” asked Nine.

“We just met with G.R.I.P. about this,” said Luke. “We have three active contracts providing vests, one of the long-range rifles, and a comms system. All of them are three generations old compared to what we use, and all of them are going to expire in the next twelve months.”

“And what’s your plan?” asked Ian.

“We’re not renewing the contracts,” said Eric. “We have good enough relationships with the people we need to have relationships with that we don’t need to worry about contracts. If they need something, they know how to contact us.”

“Hot damn,” muttered Nine. “We might finally be free of Uncle Sam.”

“Don’t say that too loud,” smirked Eric. “He always seems to find a way to get to us.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Mama? What are those?” frowned Gaspar, staring at the cages.

“Well, now, see, those are called Flemish rabbits,” she smiled, petting one between the ears as he wiggled them.

“And why do we have Flemish rabbits, that I’m guessing weigh around twenty pounds each?”

“Somewhere in that range,” she smiled. “They’re cute, ain’t they?”

“Mama.”

“Fine. I want to do a big Easter egg hunt for the children and have these beauties hopping around.”

“Mama, those damn things are gonna scare the kids to death. Hell, they scare me to death. What do they eat? Better yet, can we eat them?”

“Gaspar! You’ll do no such thing.” He laughed, shaking his head as the other men stared at the giant rabbits. They were enormous, and there must be thirty in cages on the truck getting unloaded.

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