Blane’s modesty was no surprise to Kade, and neither was the fact that he’d done something to save Tom’s life. That’s who Blane was. The hero, the knight in shining armor. The one destined for greatness.
Many brothers, maybe most, would’ve been jealous or bitter. Not Kade. He idolized the man who’d saved him from an uncertain fate years ago. Kade would sacrifice anything—and had—to make sure Blane was able to pursue his dreams.
And like any proud relation, he secretly loved to hear tales of Blane’s heroism.
“So what happened?” he asked.
Blane shot him a look, warning him to drop it. Kade just smiled.
“I’m a Marine,” Tom said proudly. “Was deployed in Afghanistan on my first tour. Still wet behind the ears.”
Blane shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.
“We were on a raid,” Tom continued. “Three SEALs were sent with us on the team. Went in this one house, cleared it, was moving on to the next one when this guy—” he pointed again at Blane “—spotted a suicide bomber, sneaking up behind us. Would’ve got us all if Blane here hadn’t shoved us all into the alley. The bomb went off, but we were all saved. Three seconds too late and we’d all have been dead.”
A chill crept over Kade, and he wasn’t smiling. He’d known in a visceral way that Blane had been in grave danger while he’d been serving, but he’d never heard the details before. Not like this. “You’re Marines,” he snarled. “How the fuck did you miss a suicide bomber?”
“Kade—”
But Tom interrupted Blane’s protest. He looked taken aback at the hostility in Kade’s tone. “We were looking for men,” he said simply. “It was a woman, cowering as we went by. It was an act. She was strapped with C4. That early in the war, we weren’t prepared for women and kids to be walking bombs.”
“Good thing my brother was there to save your ass.”
“Yeah. It really was.” Tom’s grave reply took the heat from Kade’s anger.
An awkward silence descended, then Bill piped up again.
“And this is Terrance,” he said, motioning to the huge black guy who’d silently been observing them. “Army Ranger, and the best ammunitions guy I’ve ever seen. Better than me, better than Tom, better than anyone.”
Terrance gave them a silent nod, not outwardly reacting to Bill’s praise.
“So, we’ve got any kind of handgun you’d want,” Bill continued. “Nine millimeter, forty-fives, semi-automatics, you name it. You want rifles, we’ve got plenty of AR-15s.”
Kade may not have been in the military, but he knew his way around weapons. He followed Bill to the far wall where many were displayed. He chose two, a Sig and a smaller Glock, both nine millimeter. Blane chose two Glocks.
“Here’s a couple extra magazines for those, and ammunition,” Bill said, getting the items from underneath the counter.
“I’ll wire you money to replace these,” Blane said, “as soon as we get back—”
“I’ll do it,” Kade interrupted. It was his mess anyway. No need for Blane to part with his money.
“One of us will send money,” Blane amended.
“No worries.” Bill said. “I know you’re good for it.”
“So what’s going down?” Tom asked. “And more importantly, can we come?”
“A problem with Péng,” Bill answered. “He’s holding their ladies hostage.”
Kade opened his mouth to correct him—Liz wasn’t “his lady”—but Blane nudged him. He caught the hint and kept his silence. It didn’t matter anyway what Liz was or wasn’t to him. They weren’t going to abandon the women to Péng’s dubious care.
“Aw, man, I definitely want in on that,” Tom said.
“I wouldn’t mind going either,” Bill added.
“I appreciate it, guys,” Blane said, “but I can’t guarantee your safety.”
They looked at Blane blankly for a moment, then both burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?” Bill asked. “Since when has safety ever been guaranteed? We’d jump at the chance to help take out Péng.”
Kade glanced at Terrance, who still hadn’t said anything. “What about you?” Kade asked. “You wanna go on a field trip, too?”
“I only work when I get paid,” he said.
Now that was something Kade could relate to. Money was a concrete reason to stick your neck out, not that honor and do-gooder bullshit that motivated Blane. Cold hard cash knew neither good nor evil.
“What’s with the midget?” Terrance asked bluntly.
Mannie immediately bristled. “It’s little person,” he corrected him. “And my name is Mannie.”
“Excuse me, little person, but what good are you gonna be in a firefight?”
That seemed to stump Mannie, his mouth slightly open as though he were going to say something, then thought better of it. His shoulders slumped in defeat.