Chapter 8 #2
“Tariq is still off-limits, but our new orders are to glue ourselves to Tariq in hopes he leads us to this group he’s funding for whatever purpose,” Wyatt went on, but his attention kept moving around.
Left and right out the windows. Head already on a swivel as if they were in the middle of the op and a sniper might be in the wings.
This wasn’t his typical behavior pre-boots on the ground. What was up with that?
“And when it comes to that fucker, who the hell knows what he’s really up to. No rhyme or damn reason as to the groups he’s funded in the past,” A.J. tossed in his two cents. “He’s a hopper. Gets bored. Jumps from terrorist group to terrorist group.”
“Maybe now he’s decided to form his own group.” Group? Yeah, right. Like they were a Barnes & Noble book club. “With the weapons destroyed in Pakistan and then after tonight, Tariq is going to start looking over his shoulder.”
“Which is why POTUS needs us to monitor him. Can’t put a DEVGRU team on his arse,” Wyatt replied, still seemingly on edge and a bit distracted, and Finn wanted to probe and find out what bothered him aside from the fact they were going to pull off an op without prep, but he kept his mouth shut.
“But it’s also why we’re still posing as a local rebel group.
It’s not unusual for the rebels here to learn of a big transfer of arms like this and make an attempt to jack it. ”
“So, we’re crossing our fingers, toes, and whatever the hell else is crossable,” A.J. drawled, “in hopes this cousin to the royal family doesn’t connect the dots that we’re on to his bad guy shenanigans?”
And that was the problem with Tariq—his royal connections to the Saudis. The main reason he was off-fucking-limits. Total bullshit.
“Looks that way,” Wyatt grimly replied.
What would Finn do about Julia? He couldn’t bring her with him to wherever Tariq might lead them next. But how could he turn his back on her now?
“I’m sorry, brother,” A.J. said as if reading Finn’s thoughts.
“What are the rules of engagement tonight?” Finn asked instead, needing to bury the noise and worries so he didn’t wind up with a bullet to the head, or worse, let something happen to one of his brothers.
Men he’d die for any day of the week. They had loved ones.
Families. They had something to live for.
What do I have? I have the teams. No one else.
An image of Julia’s face gathered like a sudden storm in his mind, and his stomach ached at the thought of leaving her behind, which didn’t make much sense.
He shook off the strange thoughts. Thoughts that had never before occupied his mind prior to a mission, so he wasn’t sure what to make of this turn of events. Focus, man. Not going to die tonight. Override and focus on the mission.
“The ROE is the same as before.” Wyatt faced forward again as if sensing Finn’s thoughts were on some sort of tilt-a-whirl, and he needed a moment to regroup.
“So, like I was saying,” he continued after a heavy throat clear, “we’re acting as though we’re part of the local rebel militia looking to hijack the truck of weapons, and when they resist, we’ll light them up.
The weapons will accidentally be destroyed in the process. And hopefully, Tariq buys that story.”
Finn always did hate hopefullys. He much preferred guarantees, which was probably why he also stayed away from committing to a woman for more than six weeks. There were no guarantees when it came to relationships outside of the teams.
“Finn, can you get Harper on the phone to see if she has an update from Natasha on the truck’s current path?
” Wyatt’s voice sounded faraway, and Finn fought to hear him over the noise of thoughts that were all wrapped up in his past once again.
A past he couldn’t seem to escape even when his boots were in Afghanistan or here in Egypt.
Finn reached for his phone. Only one bar. “Hey, it’s me,” he said as soon as Harper answered. “I’ll probably lose you when we leave the city limits. Maybe even before then. Service sucks.”
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Harper quickly responded.
“Natasha said the truck just took an unexpected turn and is heading in the opposite direction from the airport. But our drone is being pulled because the truck is still close to restrictive air space. Head east on Aswan Road once you reach it. You should be seven to ten mikes behind the truck. Pick up your speed.”
“Roger that.” Finn relayed the orders to Wyatt. “How’s Jul—” And she’s gone. No bars. “Let me get the boys on comms since we lost service and update them.”
He handed A.J. and Wyatt their comms and positioned his own in his ear, then tapped it on, checking to see if Chris and Roman were connected. “This is Echo Five, do you copy, Three and Four?”
“That’s a good copy, Five,” Chris answered.
Finn noticed Wyatt lifting his left hand and removing his wedding ring he’d forgotten to leave back at the hotel. Was his hand shaking? What was that about?
“What’s wrong?” Finn leaned forward once again, and Wyatt peered at A.J., then back at Finn.
“A lot on my mind, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Yeah, that wasn’t typical of Echo One.
“You sure, man?” A.J. asked as Wyatt stared at his ring on his open palm.
“I, uh, just have a . . .”
There was no way Wyatt would finish that statement, but Finn knew what he was thinking because fuck, Finn had a bad feeling, too.
“Do. Not. Open. That.” A.J. enunciated each word through gritted teeth. “Seriously, brother.”
Finn holstered his sidearm and knelt on the floor inside of the truck they’d taken over five minutes after the gunfight.
Echo Team had managed to secure the transport vehicle and take down the three men Tariq left in charge of the transport.
It’d almost been too easy.
Nothing was ever that damn easy.
And he’d yet to shake that bad feeling in his gut.
Finn lifted his flashlight to Echo Two’s face to see A.J.’s shemagh lowered to show more than his eyes, and it was clear A.J. wasn’t ready to call this night a mission success yet, either.
“You all need to confirm and take photos of the weapons inside the containers before we blow up this truck. Ignore Echo Two,” Wyatt said over comms from where he was positioned outside the truck in case anyone in the vehicle had managed to radio for reinforcements before they’d been taken out.
Doubtful since not even Echo Team could get one bar on a cell phone out there.
Chris crouched next to A.J. and slapped him on the back. “You’re going to find weapons inside there, man.”
“Yeah, but these are not typical containers.” A.J. held his hands up, stood, and backed away from the coffin Finn was on the verge of opening. “And,” he added while pointing, “that’s a warning carved right beneath that Pharaoh-looking dude with the bad goatee.”
The entire truck was filled with knockoff sarcophaguses. Twelve of them stacked up.
“Are you seriously worried about some bogus hieroglyphics?” If they weren’t in a hurry, Finn would make a few jokes and laugh this whole thing off.
“I heard on the news that a research group moved some mummies from where they were found last year, and bad things started to happen. A curse,” A.J.
went on, and was the desert heat making him hallucinate?
“King Tut’s sarcophagus said something like death would come on quick wings for those who disturb his peace. ”
The movie Julia loved, The Mummy, popped into Finn’s head.
He was pretty sure there was a curse involved in the plot, and a surprising smile cut across his lips at the memory of her sharing that with him.
He hoped one day they’d have a chance to watch each other’s favorite movies together.
And where did that come from? He blinked and swiped a hand over his brow beneath the scarf, finding his skin sweaty.
“Since when are you an archaeologist or historian?” Chris lowered his shemagh to scratch his beard. “These things are fake and probably sold to tourists.”
“Oh sure,” A.J. went on, looking at Finn and shaking his head with a Don’t do it, brother look in his eyes as Finn stood poised to shove off the top.
But for some reason, now of all damn times, that woman’s words of warning on the dock earlier today hit him. Her admonition about Osiris and the prediction Julia would die if she continued to pursue her current path.
If anything cursed them, it was most likely the woman’s words, not the weapons they’d find inside the knockoff sarcophaguses.
“And how do tourists bring these things on their flights home, Captain America?” A.J. teased. “Carry-on luggage or baggage check?”
“Just open the bloody thing before I come in there and do it myself,” Wyatt rasped over the line. “You all have lost your minds in this heat. I’m sending you back to Afghanistan for a few weeks to remind you of the SEALs you’re supposed to be.” His tone was half teasing and half team-leader tough.
At that, Finn finally pushed the lid off, which was heavier than he expected for a fake.
“If a mummy pops out of there, I’m—” A.J. let go of his words, and Finn stared in surprise at the contents inside the coffin.
Definitely not weapons.
Or some dried-up dude.
Finn shut his eyes as memories of the past took over and robbed him of his ability to override and operate.
This time, his past didn’t just reach out and pull him back, it sucked him up fast like an F5 tornado and threw him there.
Now he was in his older brother’s bedroom back on Arden Road in Pasadena.
At nineteen, his brother still lived at home despite having signed a record deal with a major label.
“What are you doing?” Finn recalled asking, pointing at the small bottle in his hand.
“Those pills you’re taking?” He’d rushed forward and tried to snatch the bottle, but his brother had a few inches on him. “Are they Mom’s benzos?”
“Get the fuck out of my room! You tell Mom about this, and you’re a dead man.”
“Finn?”