Page 13 of Legacy's Call

“Don’t ever touch me.” Ronan leaned over the shorter man.

“I can get the men you need,” Slim said. “They are near.”

“No shit,” Ronan deadpanned. “Five vehicles, approximately twenty-five men plus a supply truck, three clicks to the west behind that stand of hills.”

Dude chuckled. “I like how you use my information, Skipper.”

Ronan didn’t respond to their operator with the satellite feed. “Tell your vehicles and supply truck to come in.”

Slim looked up into the sky. “You have drones?”

Ronan snorted. “We don’t need drones.” He lowered his voice so only Bilal could hear him. “Iwon’t be tricked. Your men are waiting for us to follow you out, and then you were going to try to kill us and take our weapons.”

“No, this is not true,” Slim said. “We did not know if you were the right people. I would not risk my command. It was a tactical decision.”

“It was an attempt to get something for nothing. You work for me, and you’ll be paid better than anyone else in this country. You fuck with me one more time, and none of your crew will live to see the next sunrise.”

“Jets will be overhead in thirty seconds. Damn, am I good, or am I good? Get ready to be fucking rocked. Low altitude strafing run inbound.” Dude gave him the countdown.

“You speak big words for only four men.”

“Ten. Nine.” Dude counted down the jets.

“Guess again.”

Two F15s screamed overhead. Every one of Bilal’s men and Bilal himself dropped to the ground. Just past the hills where the vehicles were waiting, the jets released their high-powered weapons, and the dust plumed in the air as the practice run ended and the jets angled up and exploded into the sky.

“Damn glad the Syrian Air Force could be hacked and rerouted so easily.” Dude laughed. “Child’s play.”

Ronan didn’t answer the man as Slim got up and dusted himself off. “We are never alone,” Ronan told him. “We have resources you can’t comprehend. Your leaders made a deal with my people. Honor it.”

Bilal glared at him but eventually nodded. He turned and yelled at his men in Arabic. Ronan heard the men grumble, but the tone was of respect and awe. Bilal stopped that in its tracks with several sharp words.

He got into his banged-up truck without a roof, stood up, and shouted, “You will follow us!”

Ronan stood where he was and shook his head. “No. You’ll follow us.”

Bilal scoffed. “You don’t know where you are going.” He waved his arm and laughed cynically. “The area is vast.”

Ronan whistled, and Wolf dropped out of the tree where he’d been concealed.

Jug jumped into the Jeep and stood behind the M-240 machine gun attached to a specialty mount. He made a show of pulling back the charging handle on the fierce weapon and swiveled the gun to hold the men under his sights. Wraith hopped into the driver’s seat, fired up the Jeep, and Ronan, Stryker, and Wolf took their positions one at a time. Wraith put the vehicle in gear and took off, going aroundthe bottleneck area where the rest of Slim’s people were waiting.

“You’re going to have to watch your back, Skipper. You made a fool of him,” Dude said as they drove.

“People like Bilal are ruthless,” Jug said. “If we’d followed them, we’d be dead. Now, he knows we won’t be tricked. Power and money equal respect out here. Skipper showed him power and offered him money. His greed will keep him in line.”

“For a while,” Ronan added.

“Damn, glad I’m back here with my cheesy chips, soda, and air conditioning.” Dude sighed.

“Just don’t choke on a chip,” Stryker said.

“Or burp in my ear,” Jug added.

“Bathroom breaks during a firefight are discouraged,” Wolf interjected.

“This,” Wraith spoke one word, and the entire team laughed along with Dude.

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