Sabotage: Beginnings (14 page)

“Nothing. You’ll be okay.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Justice. I’m not okay, am I?”

Justice trudged across the open plain then began the short hike uphill. Fury begged him for answers, but he shrugged it off, face was aglow with rage. Fury snatched a fistful of his jacket and yanked him off balance. “Tell me now. You fucking owe me, Justice. I came out here to help someone I know nothing about. And it got my partner killed and gonna get me court marshaled.” Spit flung from the froth that lined his lips. “I fucking deserve to know.”

Justice jerked his shoulder away. “I’ll tell you once we get to Batya. We all need to know the situation.”

They crested the dune about thirty yards later. Batya had pushed herself upright and looked to be struggling to breathe. Fury rushed to her and mashed two fingers against the carotid artery in her neck.

“She’s going into shock. We gotta medevac.” His face was painted in panic.

Justice’s worn boots sunk into loose sand as he ploughed the rest of the distance to kneel next to her. His eyes moistened at the sight of her agony. Both fists clenched against his thighs in anger for being so irresponsible during this mission.

Fuck Ben Ford, I’ve got to save them both.

Justice clasped his raw palms around Fury’s shoulder. “How much time do we have? Is she going to make it?” His mouth barely touched Fury’s ear as he whispered a desperate plea. Fury shook his head—no words were needed as the wooden expression gave her prognosis.

Justice mashed the back of his wrist against his eyes to capture the wetness that seeped onto the bridge of his crooked nose. On both knees, he looked up and mouthed a prayer. He wasn’t sure what to say, really who to say it to, but he knew that alone, he didn’t have the ability to save his brother and Batya.

“Bro, you’re freaking me out. Talk to me,” Fury demanded.

Justice collapsed against Fury’s shoulder. The vulnerable contact sent shivers of distant memories through his body. They’d not been close growing up, but they were still blood. Maybe because Justice had known all along Fury was queer. He didn’t really care either way, but it caused both of them bunches of bullshit as kids along a hard-core bayou backdrop. He’d always taken up for his younger brother, but now when he needed him most, he felt helpless.

“We’re screwed,” Justice admitted.

Fury seemed to have achieved a level of calm in the face of Justice’s rare fragility. “Tell me what’s going down, Justice. Let me help.”

Justice helped Batya onto her back and brushed her hair from her face to comfort her. He turned away and motioned for Fury’s overstuffed ALICE pack. Fury tumbled sideways into the prickly brush. Justice smiled briefly at the awkward fall as if given a moment’s reprieve from the heavy burden that threatened to crush him.

He reached out to help right Fury as he looked over the ancient military backpack. The All-purpose, Lightweight Individual Carrying Equipment, or ALICE had been around since first issued in the 1960s, but his brother wore it faithfully with every supply he could shove inside.

“You ain’t got a chopper in that thing, do you?”

“Is that all you need?” Fury attempted a laugh. His lips stretched tight. But, in reality, worry was written all over his face.

“One of the many pricks back at the Agency’s HQ has unleashed a squad of mercenaries to arrest you for going AWOL.” Justice reached a hand to steady his brother. “This asshole, Robert Boyd hates me for cleaning up the mess he made with the twenty-five experimental citizens. This is his chance to get back at me by arresting you.”

“Right now I don’t really give a crap about being thrown in the brig. That woman needs medical attention or she may die. She’s bleeding internally and going into shock.”

Justice stepped back. Right hand pressed against his heart, he hadn’t realized his connection with Batya was as strong as it was until Fury said she could die. He’d move heaven and earth to protect his brother, and now the same for her. Yet, he felt helpless.

“Forgive me, Fury. I’m sorry for getting you in this shit. I’ll work it out.”

Fury looked deep into Justice’s eyes. “You always do, brother.”

Justice felt the regret of so many years of keeping his distance from Fury. Being so worried about his own reputation growing up that he’d neglected to see the true heart of a sibling that loved him. He exhaled a few quick snorts of air and shook his head before his glare locked onto Fury and into the scenario.

“First things first, let’s vacate this spot. If those private contractors are on their way, we don’t need lights like Christmas bonfires along the Mississippi River to show the way for Poppa Noel.” With the words, he felt renewed—it was time for action. “Grab the weapons and I’ll hoist Batya. We’ll find a spot to hide until I can get Dunnigan on the line to get me help and call off Boyd’s dogs.”

“You seriously want a helicopter to land right here?” Fury asked, but looked timid.

Justice grabbed Fury’s shoulders and spun him around. “Yeah, you got a Blackhawk up your ass?”

“Matter of fact, I do.” Fury smiled as he slammed both palms into Justice’s chest. “I run with the most bad ass group of warriors on the planet. I’ve been there for them and have saved more than a few of them in the heat of the battle. They can reload bullets, but they can’t replace me.” Fury held his hand out for the satellite phone.

Justice dripped sips of water onto Batya’s cracked lips. She parted them to allow beads of moisture to seep in. He ignored Fury’s conversation in the background, but paid full attention to Batya. He’d seen more strength in her over the last days than with anyone he’d ever served. He gnashed his teeth at the thought of how brutal a beating she’d suffered from Jabar and his men. A wicked grin slithered across his face as he considered the hell Ben must’ve subjected Jabar to. Fuck him, he deserved more.

Justice removed his thick padded gloves to run his hand across the crown of Batya’s head. She groaned. He saw the spirit shine through the thin slits of her eyelids. She was a warrior—in spirit and in body. He cast another glance toward Fury who continued to pace the hilltop hideout.

“Justice,” she whispered.

His heart ached with the voice of surrender. He swallowed once, twice, but the lump remained. “Yes, baby.”

She smiled. “Baby.”

“Batya, speak to me,” he begged.

“
Slicha li
.” I’m sorry.

Moisture filled his eyes, but he wouldn’t dishonor her with wiping the tears away. Her gentle nature of forgiveness conflicted with what he’d seen of her as a highly trained assassin. A single, salty tear splashed against the tanned skin of her cheek.

He brushed his lips against the wetness on her face, “Baby, please forgive me. I’ll get you help. We’ll get through this together.”

Her eyes remained closed and her tongue lingered at her lips longer than the last drowsy dab. “Did we get Ben Ford?”

“Not yet, but we’re close. You did good, baby.”

Faint, yet unmistakable, she smiled. “Ahh, baby,” she whispered through curled lips then fell asleep.

Justice lurched at the touch on his shoulder. He rolled away to the side to avoid landing on top of Batya. Fury. Justice knew his sense of reaction was faltering with the exhaustion and pressure of a hopeless situation.

“We’re out in fifteen,” Fury said.

“Seriously?”

“Yep, no shitting. One Blackhawk medevac on its way. The administration may not value the relationship with Israel, but the fighting forces sure do.”

“What about your alibi?” Justice grabbed Fury’s hand to pull up off the dirt.

“Her life comes before my freedom. We’ll just have to deal with it when it happens.”

Justice saw the flattened expression—one he’d recognized on his brother’s face since they were children. Fury was always the emotional one of the seven brothers. When it counted, Fury was the most righteous of them all.

Justice hugged him but had never felt so aggrieved that he couldn’t force himself to say he was sorry or that he loved him. He assumed Fury knew that he did but it gave him little comfort.

“Thank you, little brother,” Justice offered as he turned back to place his jacket over Batya’s shivering frame.

The night temps had dropped drastically and this moment of calm while they awaited transport let him finally feel just how cold it was. He tried to comfort Batya, but he knew her quaking body was more from shock than the cold—it was just a matter of her will to survive.

“Company.” Fury whistled.

Confused, Justice asked, “Chopper?”

“Headlights. Out but moving fast.” Fury’s words were clear and focused. He’d laid out to cover their position until his unit arrived, and looked to be ready to stand strong where Justice knew he’d become distracted with Batya.

“That’s Boyd’s men. We’re not going with them.”

Fury glanced back to his brother. “You’re going to fight American soldiers?”

Justice low crawled to him and took a prone position with his eye pressed against the scope. “These are mercs—mercenaries—gunslingers hired by the CIA. They belong to no nation. The dollar is the only flag they swear allegiance to.”

Fury snugged his face closer to the scope of his rifle. “If you say so.”

“They fight for cash where we’re fighting for each other. Hell yeah, I say so.”

“How about we lay a few warning shots across their bow around a thousand yards out?” Fury snickered.

“Just like the old days. Remember daddy popping buckshot at the alligator poachers?” Justice brushed his leg against his brother’s. Those were the few decent memories he had to recall about his bastard of a parent.

Justice jerked at the buzz from his secure satellite phone.

“Jumpy ain’t ya?” Fury teased.

“Seeing ghosts.” He pulled the cell out of the deep cargo pocket on his trousers and pressed the green button.

“Go.”

“This is Dunnigan.”

“I know who it is. I’m not sure why you called.”

“You’ve got to get out. Boyd has launched a pack of hounds.”

“No shit. And you’re his superior, so why did you authorize?”

“I didn’t. He’s coordinating with a Pentagon group that’s splintered from my chain of command. I’m going to reel him in, but for now you’ve got to get to safety. Exactly where are you?”

“Where am…” Justice froze.

Shit, he’d allowed emotion and fatigue to cloud this whole fucked up operation. He bit his bottom lip as his chin tucked closer to his chest. The winds had picked up. Sand blasted his exposed cheeks.

Fury looked at him—Justice motioned for him to keep watch over the approaching convoy. This stunk of a set up. Dunnigan had just authorized a drone strike to save them, but now he was asking for location. Shit’s going bad—quick.

“Headlights getting hot. At least four vehicles. We going to pop hot rounds, or what?” Fury’s earlier confidence sounded shaken.

He muted the call. “Hold on, might be US forces.”

“Then we’re safe?”

“I think we’re getting fucked from both ends. Stay on scope and trigger. Tell me once they’re about a thousand yards out.” Justice turned back to his call.

“They’re closer than that. What do we do?”

Justice heard Dunnigan’s voice muttering to someone in the room that they were less than a thousand yards away.

“Justice, time’s running out. Help me to help you,” Dunnigan pleaded, his voice absolutely void of sincerity.

“Hire or sworn?” Justice asked.

“What?”

“Hired or sworn, damn it.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is treason. The other is self-defense. Tell me, you motherfucker. You owe me that much. We go too far back to turn suit-side soldier on me.” Justice’s fire was back to full flame.

Fury tapped his elbow. “What to do?”

“Drop your weapons, Justice. We’re here to help,” Dunnigan repeated.

Fury tugged again—his almond-shaped eyes wide, asking the question.

“I’ve got five more bad-ass brothers that have or are serving in our military. Dunnigan, you answer me or you’ll spend the rest of your dishonorable days looking over you shoulder until one of them shoves his KA-BAR in your gut.”

“Five hundred yards and closing,” Fury pleaded.

Justice glanced back at Batya. His mind ached with the decision’s potential for repercussion—for all parties.

“Last chance, Dunnigan. You do not want a rogue coming after you.”

“Sorry, Justice. Not this time, old buddy. Just turn yourself in.”

Justice placed his finger across his lips—Fury nodded.

“Okay, put one round through the driver’s windshield. Head level.” He said it clearly.

Dunnigan screamed, “Justice, damn you. They’re only hired to do their job.”

He muted the call. “Put it in the grill of the engine,” he told Fury.

“Justice!” Dunnigan yelled.

“You always were weak when it counted most, Dunnigan.” Justice mashed his index finger to end the call then wrapped it over the rifle’s trigger.

“Blast the engine blocks. They’re too uncommitted to advance for the honor of duty.” Fury nodded as they both unleashed a hell-fire of 50 caliber bullets.

B
en had work
to do. The police outpost interlude had derailed his schedule. He wasn’t upset about the killings, and to be honest, Jabar’s ass was more delightful than he could’ve imagined. Still disappointed over the missed opportunity to fully enjoy chubby back at the Popi village, Ben found Jabar had served as a wonderful consolation.