Nancy stuck out her hand. “So, you worked with Deion.”
Valerie shook her hand and smiled. “We spent three years trying to track the Taliban’s movements through eastern Afghanistan and into Pakistan. I’m glad you’re back,” she said, the grin fading. “This Wildcat thing is FUBAR’d. The DIA is trying to shut out the CIA, the CIA is complaining about the DIA to JSOC.” She shook her head, the smile gone. “Like I said, fucked up.”
Deion nodded, noticing the dark lines under her hazel eyes. “When does the next helicopter leave for Kandahar? I’m looking to dig up an old contact, see if he knows anything.”
She shook her head. “Another lone-wolf mission? Isn’t that what got you in trouble the last time?”
The memory of that operation angered him, but her assessment was fair. “You never know, Val, maybe I’ll win them over with my charming personality and complete disregard for regulations.”
Valerie shook her head sadly. “The next helicopter leaves in two hours. Nancy, can I steal him for a moment?”
“Absolutely,” Nancy said. “He’s all yours.”
They stepped away, out of earshot. Valerie turned to glance at Nancy, then back to Deion. “Nice looking girl. Seems a little cold, though.”
He laughed. Jealousy was the last thing he expected. “She’s just a coworker, Val. Trust me, there’s nothing there. Besides, I still haven’t gotten over you.”
“Funny, I almost believe that.” She finally smiled, and it made her look ten years younger. “It’s good, Deion. We’re good. It was just…something to occupy our time, right?”
He tried to smile, but it faltered. “You know it was more than that.” He reached for her hand and took it in his, gently squeezing her fingers. “You know what kind of problems our relationship meant for our careers. Not to mention the CIA paperwork.”
She nodded, still grinning. “It was worth it to see you naked.”
“Back at you.” He wanted to hold her, to hug her, but the people streaming through the tents made that impossible. He caught her eyes and held her gaze. “I missed you.”
She bit her lower lip. “Back at you. But, it’s history. You’ve got a job to do. Let’s get your weapons checked out.”
They rejoined Nancy and Valerie led them to the armory where he selected M11 pistols and MP4 rifles for himself and Nancy. Nancy leaned over and pulled an old Ka-Bar knife and sheath from the armory. Deion raised his eyebrow, but she just shrugged.
Valerie signed for their weapons and ammo while they changed into local clothes. When done, Deion grabbed a backpack, filled it with handfuls of extra magazines, and slung it over his shoulder.
Valerie gave him an appreciative glance, then gave Nancy a quick once over, pausing at the bulge under her pant-leg where she’d strapped the Ka-Bar knife. “The helicopter leaves soon. You guys hungry? By the time we finish, they’ll be ready to spin up.”
She led them to a small tent with plastic tables where several agents ate boxed sandwiches from the chain restaurant on base. She grabbed extras and passed them out.
He took a bite and shook his head. “Nothing like fast food in Bagram.”
“Hey, the soldiers like it. The least the Army can do is offer them a taste of home.”
She filled him in on the status of former coworkers while they ate. Nancy maintained a polite smile, but he could tell she was bored.
They finished their meal and prepared to board the helicopter when Deion saw his former special-agent-in-charge, Jim Rumple. The man stuck out like a sore thumb among the other agents, his clothes grubby and creased, his hair thin and graying, seemingly detached from the urgency and professionalism around him. “Freeman. You’re back.”
He smiled and contemplated decking the man. “Jim. Still in charge?”
Rumple turned to Nancy. “And you are?”
“Just leaving,” Deion said, sticking his arm out to brush the man away.
Rumple frowned, then placed his hand on Deion’s chest. “I’m afraid I’m going to need more than that.”
Nancy frowned. “You’ve received a copy of our mission orders?”
“I have,” he said.
“Then you have our security clearances. That’s all you need to know.”
Rumple glared at her. “A little cooperation goes a long way. We’re in the middle of an all-hands-on-deck situation.”
Nancy glared back. “We’re not going to hinder your investigation, but we have our own.”
“Then you won’t mind me contacting your superiors. I want to be briefed on your mission.”
Nancy smiled grimly. “You already tried that. Your friend, Grant, back in Langley told you to drop it.”
Rumple blanched. “How did you know that?”
Deion started to interrupt, but Nancy silenced him with a look. “Drop it now,” she said, “or you’ll be sitting in your apartment back in Maryland wondering why your buddies at Langley couldn’t stop your discharge.” Nancy turned to Deion and Valerie, her voice hard as steel. “Come on, we’re going. If this idiot keeps it up, I won’t just have his job, I’ll have his retirement. He’ll be cleaning the fry bin at McDonalds for the rest of his life.”
They hustled out of the room, Rumple watching them, his face a mask of anger and disgust. They found their way to the Chinook and took seats halfway in the back.
He leaned in close to Nancy. He wanted to ask her about Rumple, then thought better of it. Instead, he said, “You don’t look happy.”
“I don’t like it when I’m not the one flying.”
“Don’t trust the pilot?”
“Not especially. It’s a control issue.”
Valerie turned to them. “That was good. I’ve never seen Jim called out like that.” She smiled at Nancy. “You’ve got balls, lady, bluffing him like that.”
“Who said I was bluffing,” Nancy said.
Valerie’s smile faded as the engines whined and the rotors began thump-thumping.
Neil Burch greeted them when they exited the Chinook at Kandahar. Neil was a short man in his late forties, and Deion liked and respected the man. He was glad to see Neil still in the field and not riding a desk in Washington. “Neil, looking good, man.” He tousled Neil’s curly blond hair.
“Good to see you, too. I thought for sure they wouldn’t allow your ass back in country.”
Deion laughed, then introduced Nancy and Valerie.
Neil gave Valerie a firm handshake. “Glad to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”
Valerie returned the handshake and grinned. “Yours, too.”
Nancy shook Neil’s hand. “Mr. Burch, your record speaks for itself.”
“Keep it up,” Neil said, winking. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” He directed them to a waiting Humvee and they sped north-east to a small hangar, exited the truck, and showed their identification to the MP’s guarding the entrance. After a thorough inspection, the MP’s saluted, handed them their ID’s, and Neil led them inside.
A large wedge-shaped aircraft sat on the floor of the hangar, painted in subtle shades of gray and black. “This is the Sentinel,” Neil said. “We were testing it with Delta, near the mountains. The plan was to shake out the bugs and start deploying them along the Pakistan border. This really wrecks our schedule. Not to mention the loss of life. It’s just tragic.”
“Yeah,” Deion said. “We’ve heard. What do you know so far?”
“Not much. We think it’s AQ.”
“The local Taliban are trying to distance themselves,” Valerie confirmed.
Deion whistled as they walked around the drone. The wedge-shaped aircraft was bigger than he expected. “What’s so special about this drone?” he asked.