“Let’s head up,” Rawls said, giving a final one-armed hug before letting her go and grabbing his rifle, which was hanging—safety engaged—from his shoulder.
Thank Christ he didn’t have to worry about Pachico getting all frisky on him. According to Wolf and his Arapaho elders, Pachico had passed—or been shoved—over to the other side. Since his trollish hitchhiker hadn’t put in an appearance since the binding ceremony, he was inclined to believe them. But to err on the side of caution, the hiixoyooniiheiht still burned lightly against his chest. From the volume of leather cords circling the Shadow Mountain warriors’ necks as they’d climbed on board the chopper, he wasn’t the only one siding with caution.
Faith kept up with him easily as they crossed the meadow, and with each step, he could feel her nerves settle.
“What are these called again?” Faith whispered, briefly touching the goggles covering most of her face.
“Night vision devices,” Rawls whispered back.
“Why is everything such a sharp shade of green?” she asked, curiosity rather than nerves in her voice.
A fist suddenly slammed into his shoulder from behind, shoving him forward a step. Mac, giving him the one-second warning to shut the fuck up.
Rawls half turned to glare at his commander. If the bastard hit Faith, there’d be more than one fist flying.
“Never mind, I’ll google it,” Faith said. She turned slightly to frown behind her. “No need to get physical, Commander Mackenzie. A verbal warning would have sufficed.”
Rawls fought a grin at the censure in her voice. She was certainly getting her nerve back fast.
The trip to the target took less time than he’d expected, and well before he was ready for it, they joined Zane and Cosky and the bulk of Wolf’s team at the edge of the forest.
The building jutting into the night sky before them was three stories, square, with a flat roof. Cameras ringed the roofline, and the glowing, barred windows were few and far between. An acre of lawn surrounded the place. To their right, a rutted dirt road emerged from the forest and dead-ended to the right of the building in a large square of gravel and dead grass. He counted eight cars parked there. Which could indicate anywhere from eight to thirty Tangos inside waiting for them—depending on number of employees per vehicle.
Zane leaned in so close his mouth was next to Rawls’s ear.
“They scrambled the cameras. And Wolf sent his scouts out.” The words were so low they’d be nonexistent a foot away.
Rawls glanced at Wolf. They were right on schedule. The Shadow Mountain strategy had called for scrambling cameras and cell phones prior to scouting for secondary entrances. Once the entrances were secure, they’d bring in the second bird, which carried team two.
A minute passed, then two . . . five . . .
Wolf’s men stirred uneasily and then everyone froze, faces tense, heads slightly cocked as though they were listening to something.
Seconds later, a short, vicious-sounding foreign word broke from Wolf—an Arapaho swear word. Rawls had no doubt. The word was repeated by several of Wolf’s normally taciturn men. Something had sure shoved a poker up their new allies’ asses.
Wolf wheeled on Jude and a spat of urgent Arapaho words crackled between them. Pivoting, Wolf closed on Mac. “Team two’s down.”
Rawls winced. Christ, of all the bad luck. The bird must have been way behind them. If it had gone down in the vicinity, they would have heard the impact and been able to backtrack to offer support.
Mac swore, sympathy in his eyes. “Casualties?”
“We’re assessing,” Wolf said, his voice grimmer than Rawls had ever heard it.
Zane and Cosky glanced at each other, and Rawls knew exactly what they were thinking.
How had they known the chopper had gone down? Nothing had come over the comm.
Although Mac didn’t react or question Wolf—it was hardly the time for demands and questions—Rawls knew he was silently asking the same questions.
Hell, maybe the Shadow Mountain team monitored two channels.
“For this operation to continue, your team will need to step up,” Wolf said, back to wearing his flat, expressionless mask.
Mac nodded, the gesture both an agreement and an acceptance. “What do you need from us?”
Their original instructions via Shadow Mountain Command had been to remain with Faith. Protect her. They’d been assigned guard duty, not a breachers’ position. While the order had sat fine with Rawls—he had no intention of abandoning Faith—it had rankled something fierce with Mac. As experienced operators with hundreds of successful missions beneath their boots, he’d felt command should have made better use of their talents.