The Devil's Waters

CHAPTER 27





On board CMA CGN Valnea

Gulf of Aden

Iris Cherlina lit her way down the ladders, four stories. When she arrived beside LB, she squeezed his arm.

“Did you get everything you needed?”

“Most of it.”

Iris sniffed, curling her nostrils. She washed her light over LB. Brown crust discolored his nails and the creases of his right hand. Iris backed away to play the beam across his smeared camo pants and shoulders.

“More blood?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Thanks.”

“Is your team still coming?”

LB checked his watch. “Forty more minutes. I couldn’t find the hostages.”

“They could be anywhere. The mess room, rec hall, any of the offices, up on the bridge. A dozen places. You didn’t have time.”

All along he’d believed the bridge was the most likely spot. He would have done it that way. Guard the nerve center of the ship and the hostages at the same time. LB couldn’t be sure, so did not make that suggestion when he spoke to Torres. Besides, Wally had made it clear: the hostages weren’t a priority. The powers behind this ship wanted her back or sunk. They were prepared for a body count in return.

LB clicked off his flashlight. “Cut yours off. Let’s sit.”

Iris Cherlina did not douse her light. “I’m tired of the dark.”

“We’re safer in the dark.”

Iris moved closer, folded her long legs near him. She flicked off her flashlight. Blackness swept in. The drumming in the ship seemed to swell.

Iris Cherlina said, “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Your team. You almost dropped your radio when you found out they were coming to get you.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Okay. You’re a scientist. View this like one.”

LB clicked on his flashlight and handed it to her. He stood to loosen his BDU belt. Iris Cherlina followed his movements with the light and a surprised look.

“What on earth are you doing?”

LB tugged down his waistband just enough to show Iris Cherlina the pair of green footprints tattooed on his buttocks.

“I…um…” She searched for words. “I’m speechless.”

LB hoisted his pants, redid his belt, and sat. He took back the flashlight to cut it off.

“It’s the Jolly Green Giant’s feet. Jolly, that’s the nickname for a helicopter. Every PJ and CRO gets that tattoo.”

“Lovely.”

“You don’t get it. I mean every PJ and CRO gets that tattoo. And there’s one rule for all of us. You never, ever put yourself in a position to jeopardize another PJ. Right now, that’s me. Wally’s not going to let me live this down.”

“But it’s not your fault.”

LB laughed loudly enough to make echoes. He reeled himself in. “You have no idea how little that’s going to matter.”

“Wally is the one I heard you call Juggler.”

“I’ve known him a long time.”

“Tell me about Wally.”

“I met him fifteen years ago when he was a cadet at the academy. Kid was the best jumper at the school—he ran the student jump competition team. I was a lieutenant in the Rangers then. We were tasked to the academy one summer for a month of high-altitude jump training. Cadet First Class Wally Bloom was our instructor. Thirty, forty jumps, every one dead on. Time came to move on, but I kept thinking about how damn good he was. So I put in a request for him to jumpmaster a special-ops mission my team was making into Honduras. The commandant approved it. We jumped on O2 from eighteen thousand, stuck the LZ. I left Wally behind with a guard for a couple days. We went into the jungle, did whatever, and came back for him. We all walked out at night to a covert airfield in the bush. A blacked-out plane picked us up. We dropped him off at the academy.”

“It sounds exciting.”

“Yeah, Wally loved it. He wanted to do more missions, and I said sure. He missed fifteen weeks of classes. The commandant put out the word that so long as he did the work, he was excused from class. The kid read a lot of textbooks by flashlight in the back of an HC-130. He was gone so much, he got himself kicked off the jump team.”

Iris elbowed LB. “No. You got him kicked off the jump team.”

“Probably.”

In the dark, Iris nudged closer. LB did not slide away but let the pressure of her shoulder lie against his.

“Did he join the PJs because you did?”

“Yep. Even became a Ranger like I did. With one big difference. When I decided to become a PJ, I was a captain and quit my commission. Wally wanted to stay an officer. Now he’s made captain and I’m a first sergeant.”

“So you compete with each other.”

“Nah.”

In the darkness, facing an uncertain hour racing closer, with the warmth of a woman leaning against him, LB saw little use in posturing.

“Yeah.”

Iris slouched more of her weight against LB, as if in reward for his candor.

“You said there was one rule for every PJ. But that’s not true. There’s two rules, aren’t there?”

“Yeah.”

“That others may live. I saw it on your sleeve.”

“Yeah.”

“LB, tell me something.”

“Sure.”

“You said you were a captain once. You quit to become a PJ. Why did you do that? What made you change?”

In the dark, he brushed a hand over his bristle haircut. “You don’t want to know what it’s like, taking a man’s life. If you got anything going on at all, family, friends, job, you figure the next guy does, too. I spent a lot of years killing some bad dudes in some hard-to-reach places. At first it was simple, duty and country, you know? But after a while, I started thinking of the life I’d just stopped, the whole life. Was there a gal somewhere who hoped to change him? Was there a kid waiting for his old man to come home and play catch? It goes on and on while you’re washing blood off a knife or crossing a name off a list or writing a report. I’d had enough of killing long before I quit. Then the PJs came my way.”

“And you jumped to the rescue.”

LB wanted to chuckle at Iris’s pun but could not. In the humming dark, memories crept up on him like jackals in those many jungles. Surprising Iris, LB switched on the flashlight for no reason but to chase them off.