Chapter 8 #3
He vaguely heard someone calling his name, but he was stuck inside those four walls decorated with posters of rock bands.
“Finn. You okay?”
“Finn?”
Different voices called his name this time.
None were his brother.
Not one.
“It’s okay. I got you.” A hand wrapped over his shoulder.
Finn slowly opened his eyes at the familiar sound of Roman’s voice. The man who had become like a brother to him knew what was wrong. Finn was close to everyone on Echo, but only Roman knew exactly what was happening.
Those pills.
Those damn fucking pills inside the mummy coffin were the problem.
“They’re not weapons? What do you mean?” Wyatt asked over the comms, which meant someone had already shared the news with him during Finn’s trip to the past.
Roman hooked an arm beneath Finn’s and helped him rise to his feet, then pinned him with narrowed brown eyes. The team may have been on a tight timeline, but Roman wouldn’t budge unless Finn gave him the signal that he was okay.
Finn lightly nodded, letting him know he was solid. Or he’d force himself to be for the sake of the team and the mission.
“Check all of them. The weapons should be here,” Wyatt ordered over comms.
Once Roman left his side, Finn took a knee again and reached for one of the bags of pills. “We should bring a bag back with us to identify the drugs.”
“A negative on the weapons,” A.J. said a minute later as Finn stood again. “They’re all drugs. We still blowing this truck sky high?”
“Shit, okay. Charlie mike. We don’t need a bunch of drugs winding up in the wrong hands, either,” Wyatt instructed.
“If the arms dealer sold drugs instead of weapons to Tariq,” Roman began, “this must be that drug Captagon.” And, of course, his best friend would know that.
“Syria was the major player in manufacturing the drug for their soldiers, but Sudan has recently gotten into the business, too. And they’re just south of the border. ”
“This is the Jihadi drug of choice,” Chris said as they began wiring the rig to blow, and Finn managed to pull his shit together long enough to follow orders.
“Yeah,” Roman responded in a low voice and took the bag of pills out of Finn’s hand he hadn’t noticed he still clutched.
“Wrap it up and collapse back to me,” Wyatt commanded.
“Roger that.” The response came out like two brittle, breakable words from Finn’s mouth, but he managed to follow his teammates out of the vehicle and over to their parked Land Cruisers, which were a safe distance away from the truck.
“These the drugs that make soldiers paranoid and violent?” Chris asked as they knelt for cover behind one vehicle. “Keeps them awake for days? Shoot a guy, and he keeps coming at you like a zombie?”
“Great. Zombies,” A.J. guffawed. “I was wondering if 2022 would bring us zombies or aliens. I’m thinking both, at this rate.”
“Aliens are already here, brother,” Chris said with a light laugh.
The sand dunes of the Nubian Desert were their only companion as they waited for Roman to detonate the explosives. That and the bright half-moon hanging on its back in the sky.
Complete silence until Roman blew up the truck, and Finn stared at the flames bursting into the air as if searching for their last dying breath.
“How am I going to raise a child in this world with the way shit has been going lately?” A.J. asked a beat later.
“I’m right there with ya, brother. I don’t know,” Wyatt said as he opened the driver’s side door, opting to take the wheel this time.
“Something going on with Gwen?” Finn asked.
Gwen was the daughter Wyatt hadn’t known existed until recently. She was an adult now, but Finn assumed that didn’t ease a parent’s worries. Hell, it might have made them worse.
“No, I, uh should probably tell you that, uh . . .” Wyatt’s words trailed off when his gaze cut toward what appeared to be movement in the distance. “Are those camels?” He grabbed a pair of night vision goggles from inside their vehicle and slipped them on.
Finn checked his phone. If he had no bars, no one else out there did either. “Shit. No way they called in reinforcements.”
He grabbed his own NVGs to see what they were about to go up against. A dozen men on camels, because why the hell not, were heading their way armed to the teeth from what he could tell. “I think we’re about to face an actual rebel group.” Like the kind we’re pretending to be.
“This is not what I wanted to be dealing with.” Wyatt pushed the NVGs to the top of his head and turned toward the team to direct them into positions.
“Damn it. They’ve got an RPG on them,” Finn quickly told them.
“An RPG on a camel,” A.J. said as he faced Finn and reached for his heavy .50 cal. “Well, shit, you don’t see that every day.”
“There are two guys with rocket launchers,” Wyatt said over comms as they fanned out.
Not much high ground, so they’d be using the burning truck for cover.
“Echo Four, you take the one on the left. I’ve got the right.
” Wyatt was the best sniper on Echo, and hell, one of the best in the world. But Roman was damn good, too.
“Too late. Incoming,” Finn alerted as the rocket-propelled grenade made contact, and he watched their Land Cruiser blow up. “Everyone good?” he called out over the roaring sound of destruction as their second vehicle exploded as well.
“There goes our rides. These boys aren’t looking to mess around. They’re out for blood,” Chris hissed over the line after everyone announced they were solid.
“See,” A.J. chided, “I told you not to open that damn coffin. Now we’re cursed.”