Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gunnar stuck one finger in his ear and wriggled it about, trying to adjust the ever-present ringing sound from being too close to gunfire for too many years. Sometimes it receded to almost a dull roar and was bearable. Tonight, it just plain sucked. “Fuck.”
“Huh?” Tyrone stuck his head around the door. “What happened? Is it worse?”
“Nothin’ happened.” He swallowed down the frustration.
He hated being in the dark, and based on the update Remi had just given him, shit was going to get real very fucking fast. “Just feeling every fucking day I’ve done this job.
” He went back to stripping off his gear.
The armor would go back on again once he’d changed into clean clothes.
But even without a shower, changing clothes would go a long way to making him feel human again.
Tyrone stepped around the partition wall which separated their bunks in the hangar they were using as a base. Getting out of Afghanistan had been easier than they’d hoped, and the helo had only dropped its flares twice. They’d all been prepared for a much bumpier ride. “Let me see that wound.”
“It feels fine.” He shrugged off Tyrone’s arm. “I’m not pulling that shit off until we have a shower to soak it first.”
“I’ll go ask the Italians for some oil. They are bound to have a stash for cooking somewhere,” Tyrone offered.
“Nah, we’ll be home tomorrow.” Gunnar pulled his vest on over his head again. “I’ll survive until then.”
“If that gets infected and half your body falls off, don’t come crying to me.”
“He sounds like my nonna. This is one of the strange things she would say,” a voice said followed by a knock, and Valerio Gambino stepped into the room.
“How do you run crying to someone if your bottom half falls off? I thought it was only in Italy nonnas had these weird sayings. I did not know medics used them too.”
“Bah,” Tyrone grunted and disappeared out of the room, leaving both team commanders to their conversation. Not that there was much privacy here, but at least they had the illusion of it.
“Hey, Val.” Now that they weren’t being extracted out of a hot zone, Gunnar had time to be reasonably friendly with the Italian COMSUBIN.
“Your prisoner, he does not want to talk.” Valerio grabbed the lone chair, turned it backward, and straddled it. “At least not to my men.”
“We’ll see what he does when I go in there.
” Gunnar knew Valerio wouldn’t bat an eyelid at the statement.
After all, he’d served with Marco for long enough to know Gunnar and his guys wouldn’t cause an international incident or break any laws.
“Glad to see you made it back in one piece though.” Not so long ago, while on diplomatic duties on the border between Afghanistan and Pakistan, Valerio had managed to get himself captured by a rogue unit of Taliban.
His rescue by another Black Ops unit had caused friction between the US and most NATO countries, but had strengthened the ties between the US and Italy.
“Yeah, my wife, she was pleased too,” Valerio said. “Tell me, friend. What do you know of a Ghost unit?” he asked. “One which is not fully manned by Americans.”
Gunnar winced internally, but didn’t let it show in his body language. “Like you, I have heard rumors and whispers,” he replied. “But I have yet to see proof of one with my own eyes. Why?”
“Because I am not sure who I should ask about its members,” Valerio said. “I am… is it you say…” he shrugged, “nosey?”
“Nosey or curious works. I’d want to know who I should thank if I was in your shoes too.”
“No, it is not to thank,” Valerio said quietly. “I think one of the men who rescued me is my brother.”
“Not possible, friend.” Gunnar only knew of one unit who was similar to the one Valerio mentioned. “We buried Stefano. He’s not coming back.”
“We buried someone they claimed was Stefano.” Valerio scratched at one eyebrow and scrubbed his hand down his face. “There was just something about one of the men who rescued me that felt familiar.” He pinned Gunnar with a stare. “Do you know who Toro is, and what he meant to my brother?”
Shit. He had known that, but had never mentioned it as he’d been sworn to secrecy by Marco.
“You do not need to answer,” Valerio said after a moment. “I can tell by your face that you do. I will not make you break a promise.” He glanced at the ceiling as if figuring out how to say what he wanted to.
Gunnar braced himself when Valerio blew out a breath. He had no idea what was going to come out of the other man’s mouth, but he made a mental note to remember it in case he needed the information in the future.
“Toro left with this man,” Valerio said. “Now it is as if he too has disappeared off the face of the planet. People do not just disappear. Italian Intelligence members do not just disappear.”
“Unless they go undercover.”
“My security clearance and his connection to my family means while I might not be able to know the details, I would be told he is undercover and out of reach,” Valerio said. “This has not happened.”
“I don’t know, man.” But he understood it. If it was one of his brothers and he had doubts… he’d burn the world to the ground to find the truth, and one way or the other, someone would pay.
“I know what you do.”
The silence stretched between them. “Ah.” There it was, the elephant in the room.
“I want to hire you to find Toro and Stefano, if he is still alive. Will you do this for me?” Valerio asked.
Shit. That’s going to be a whole lot of laws and security breaches.
“I don’t know that we can or will find anything.
” He couldn’t say no. How could he? Valerio was not only a friend, but he came with the rest of his team every single time Marco or he called.
Saying no would be a kick in the balls and would fracture bonds forged in bloody battlefields over almost a decade.
“But I will have Remi dig and see what he finds. But…” he warned, “I’m not promising you what we will find will make you happy. ”
“This I know.” Valerio shrugged. “I need and want answers. If you cannot find them, then I don’t know where else to look.”
Just like some of the photos from when he and the guys were deployed, some secrets were better left in the proverbial box.
“Are you coming with us to Morocco?” They had one night here on base, then thankfully they could take the asshole Zombie had caught to one of The Four X’s bases. Agadir, Morocco, had holding cells, and he planned to fill one of those in the morning.
“No, I have to go back to Italy,” Valerio replied. “I have trainings to plan. It was just pure luck that we were heading this way and would be working near the AF-PAK border when you needed a ride out.”
“I appreciate it, brother.”
“You have one of mine with you.” Valerio grinned. “I only allow you to borrow Midas. I shall ask for him back at some point.”
Both cocked their heads to one side, tensed, and exchanged glances when shouting erupted further down. When the yelling was followed by laughter they recognized as Marco, Valerio winced and reached for his wallet.
“I change my mind; I will pay you to keep him.”
“Hah, put that away. Marco is ours now. We will keep him.” Gunnar grinned at his friend when Zombie’s furious barking filtered toward them. “If Talon and Zombie don’t eat him, that is.”
“Per favore, Capo posso prenderlo a calci? Per favore? Solo cinque minuti prometto.” Boss, can I kick him? Please tell me I can beat him, just for five minutes.
“Che cazzo, that is one of mine,” Valerio grumbled, then raised his voice to yell, “Midas, piantala scemo!” Midas, stop fucking around.
“Non sono stato io!” It wasn’t me.
“Cazzo si! Tutta colpa tua!” Yeah, it was your fault, Valerio yelled. “We should go see what he’s done now.”
“Gunnar.” Talon’s normally tanned face was white with rage. “If you don’t kick his ass, I swear to fuck, Imma be sending Zombie after him just for shits and giggles.”
Talon had obviously called the dog off already as his furry sidekick bristled at his side. “What did he do now?”
Talon turned around and pointed to his ass. Gunnar frowned at the mess there. “Did you shit yourself, Tal?”
“No, I fucking didn’t,” Talon snarled, and Zombie joined in to emphasize his handler’s point. “Fucking Midas put eggs on mine and Cesare’s bunks, and we sat on them because the bastard put them under the blankets where we didn’t see them on time.”
At least it wasn’t glitter.
Be thankful it wasn’t glitter, like he learned from the fuckers over in Delta Force. Those boys took glitter wars to the extreme. They’d even corrupted Red Squadron. He didn’t want that shit infesting his team or worse… his house.
But Gunnar didn’t dare say that out loud and bit down on the inside of his cheek. Laughing now equaled a pissed off Talon, and based on the speed of the hands flying and Cesare losing his shit Italian style, he wasn’t going to need a wild ass guess to assume he too was mad as all get out.
Nope, not a single WAG needed, never mind two.
“Midas, where the fuck did you get eggs?” If that asshole had pissed off a cook in the mess, then he too was going to be mad. They hadn’t even eaten yet.
“I found them as we were en route to the extraction point,” Marco admitted.
In other words, there was either a wild bird or a fucking snake looking for their damn nest in the Hindu Kush.
“Fabulous. Clean that shit up,” Gunnar ordered.
He had no clue what Talon and Cesare had done to end up being pranked…
he didn’t want to know. He pointed at Talon and then Cesare.
“You two hit the showers, then we’ll go for chow. ”
His own men turned away to do as he’d ordered. Valerio’s looked from him to their boss and back again, until Valerio nodded, dismissing them silently.
“It’s like herding cats,” Valerio muttered. “Nobody told me I’d be herding cats.”
“Hell, bro, cats would be easier. Place a box in the sunshine where you want them to go, and those kitties will jump right into it.”
“I’m packing fucking boxes on the next go round,” Valerio decided. “Big boxes.”
Gunnar snorted. “I want to be there when you send in a req form to the Ministry of Defense for them and explain why.” He clapped Valerio on the shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. If we go to the mess now, the cats won’t have eaten all the food.”
As they walked to the mess, Gunnar tried to figure out how he should handle Valerio’s request to locate the man his brother had been married to. He had his suspicions as to where Toro had ended up, but damn, passing them on would be breaking a promise; one he had no intentions of ever breaking.