Page 69 of Hostile Extraction

“As I recall, she fought like hell,” Stan muttered.

“Shut. Up.”

Stan chuckled. “Just give it up, Dusty. She won this argument three minutes ago.”

“She did not.”

“Right.”

“Fine.” He pointed a finger at Stan. “You’re in charge of her. She fucks this plan up, it’s on you.” Then he jammed his arms into the white t-shirt.

Stan met Asia’s eyes. “He’s so dramatic. Let’s go, princess. You’re with me,apparently.”

Asia followed them out to the car, and they locked the house and stashed the key where Grady had found it.

They climbed in the car with Asia in the back.

“You feel good about this plan?” Dusty asked, looking over at Stan as they rode down the hill.

Stan met his eyes. “As good as I’ve felt about any of our plans. It’s solid. We’re in. We’re out. Easy-peasy. Anything happens, we’ve got firepower. You bring any C-4 this trip?”

“I always have some with me. You never fucking know, right?”

“Right.”

“You think we’re gonna need it?” Dusty asked.

“I’d love to blow this motherfucker’s house to smithereens. Wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t think I’ve got enough for that, bro.”

They rode to the auto ferry, and Stan pulled up to the booth and paid the three-dollar fee for their vehicle to make the trip. Then they got in the line with the other vehicles waiting to drive on board the next ferry.

They waited about five minutes before the line moved, workers waving each line forward.

Once they were aboard and parked in a tight cluster, Dusty turned to glare at Asia. “You do everything I say. No questions asked, understood?”

She saluted him, and Stan chuckled.

“She’d make a good operative. Ballsy as hell, ain’t she? Maybe Chris will offer her a job if we pull this off.”

“Maybe Chris will fire us both for even attempting this without his okay.”

“More than likely.”

“Then remind me why we’re doing it?”

“Cause a pretty girl you’re sweet on asked you to, dumbass.”

“Oh, right. That.”

They climbed out of the car and made their way through the line of cars, following others above deck where they could get a better view.

“You two look like dorks,” Stan said, his eyes scanning their matching shirts.

Both men had sunglasses on, and Asia slid her own on, giggling at Stan.

They found a spot away from the crowd and watched the moored sailboats in the harbor glide past.

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