Page 17 of Remade

I headed over to the others, who were huddled around our equipment and getting some supper. Leighton too; he was preparing his MRE next to Crew and Slater.

“Fellow assholes and elbows, listen up,” I said. Everyone looked up from their meals and conversations. “After the briefing, Coach will give you a rundown of what the bunker likely looks like inside, but before then—here’s what’s up. Chances are parts of this crew are responsible for shampoo bottles needing instructions. The bunker lacks structural security, and they literally gave two of our guys a ride right up to the proverbial gate.However… Any Murphy’s Law that comes to mind?”

“Well, there are a couple about ambushes,” Ryan drawled.

I nodded. “Long story short, we have every reason to believe they’re heavily armed. If they lured us here, they’ll need thefirepower to bring us down, and if they’re making up for an extreme case of stupid, same answer. They will need guns. A lot of them.” I paused. “This is the last location, operators. The Feds are waiting in the wings to cover this all up—and in the next few days, we’ll get to read in the papers how they took down a drug ring outside our fine capital.”

“The glory of the Feds!” Slater raised his water bottle.

“Badtime to mention I’m happily married to one,” Crew said. “But in my defense, he’s retired. He’s with JATE now. Okay? Moving on. Why are you lookin’ at me?”

Uh.

Ryan smacked him upside the head. “Quit thinkin’ with your mouth.”

“Harsh, Gramps.” Crew scowled and rubbed his head.

Right. I moved on. “I have a great segue for this. When Crew Finlay isn’t rambling about his husband, he’s working hard to maintain his reputation as one of JATE’s finest, which is why he’s with us now. You’ll find our recon Marine up front with Coach and me tonight in the Alpha line of defense. More than that, he brought new top-of-the-line headsets for us so we can stop worrying about batteries in the middle of combat. How JATE’s order was prioritized over Hillcroft’s is beyond me, but whatever.”

“Happy to help,” Crew replied. “Also, I think our order arrived first because your supply department is evidently slower than our guy.” He pointed to himself. “I’m hella fast.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” I replied. “Mov?—”

“By the way,” Crew added, clearly not done, “it’s not the end of the world to use regular earpieces. Worked just fine for us in Colombia.”

Was he joking?

Coach gave him a look that asked the same question. “You and Hayward couldn’t hear for hours after the shootout in the tunnels.”

Goddamn tunnels. They better not have them here.

“Special circumstances!” Crew protested.

“It’s really not,” I stated. “We’ll be in a confined space tonight too.Moving on.” I turned to Quinn and Hudson next. “Our snipers—you’re our second line, Bravo. This is close-range, goes without saying, and your top two priorities are backup and taking out any surveillance.” Then we had the two Juniors and Leighton. “Recruit Watts, you’ll be flanked by Max and JJ in the third line, Charlie, and last but not least, covering our backs in Delta are Slater and Green.” I gestured at Hudson. “Those with only a sidearm can go see Operator Hudson. You’ll need more than that. Did we find an extra helmet for my pretty head?”

“Yessir,” Max responded.

“Good.” I nodded. “As mentioned before, we’re expecting heavy resistance from approximately twenty enemies. Shoot to kill. This op should be over within five to ten minutes from the moment we enter. Alpha shoots first and goes deep, Bravo has their own orders, and Charlie and Delta do not interfere unless we need it—you know the signal. Keep your shit cool—I don’t wanna get shot in the back because Slater caught someone rounding a quick corner.”

“It happenedonce,” he growled. “And nobody got shot!”

It’d been damn close.

I continued. “What do we do with enemy ass?”

“Double tap it!” The Juniors were first on that one.

“Always,” I emphasized. “As you’ll see on the map later, the bunker is set up like a neat row of rooms, one after another. Coach, Finlay, and I will aim for the far end and take down everyone we can in the way. But it’s a big place?—”

“How big?” Leighton blurted out. “Roughly. In football fields.”

“Everything should be measured in football fields,” Max agreed.

I sucked my teeth. “It’s about fifty yards long and three hundred of your favorite flavor crayon wide.”

“What the—” Leighton widened his eyes. “I’m not a Marine!”

“Hey.” Ryan gave him a look. “We’re family. You’re supposed to be nice.”