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“Alright. Let’s see what the good general wants.”
Waiting was the hardest part for any mission or any operation. You weren’t ever sure when things would actually go down, or how they would go down. You just knew that you had to be ready in a split second.
Years of training, years of preparing in Special Forces, had made these men hard. Years of being married to their spouses made them more compassionate. But nothing prepared you for the effects of a madman. Nothing.
“Limo coming down the road now,” said Code. He was operating the drones from a deer stand in one of the surrounding trees. Some things in the South came in handy for more than one use.
The long limousine parked on the gravel drive, and one of the federal agents jumped out, immediately opening the door for Cao and his men. One of his own guards got out first, searching the surrounding area and seeing nothing.
Then Cao stepped out. Nearly bald, his skin marked by age spots and wrinkles, he looked sick, and the men wondered if he hadn’t been part of some strange experiment. He leaned on a cane, taking small, shuffling steps.
“Where is he?” he mumbled to the agent.
“I’m sure he’s inside, sir. I’ll go get him.”
“No. No need. I know how to knock on a door. I will have a conversation with him, though, about respect.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ghost and Ian stared through the window as the man hobbled toward them. His hands were gnarled by arthritis, his fingers struggling to hold onto the cane. Looking up at the small home, his eyes looked as if they were saying the walk was too far.
“He’s a fucking mess,” whispered Nine. “He’s close to our age.”
“We’re fucking lucky,” said Gaspar.
At the door, he rapped with his cane, harder and harder. As it opened, he squinted into the darkness.
“Finally! You could have met me,” he said, gasping for air.
“You’ll have to forgive us, general,” said Nine. “We just learned that you were coming.”
“Who are you?”
“Come in,” said Gaspar. Cao’s men gripped his arms, trying to turn him around.
“I don’t think so,” said Miller, standing behind them with a rifle pointed directly at them. Trak, Luc, and Antoine were beside him. In the distance, they looked up to see Raphael, Baptiste, Max, Whiskey, Angel, Bull, and Vince.
“It appears we’re staying,” said Cao. “Very well. But just know that I have diplomatic immunity.”
“No. You don’t,” said Nine. He looked at the federal agents, still standing by the car. “Did you guys pick up anyone with diplomatic immunity today?”
“Sorry, sir, we can’t understand your question,” yelled one of the men.
“Doesn’t look like you’re here on diplomatic business, general. Please, come in and sit down. Can we make you some tea? Coffee? Maybe you’d like some water with a side of electricity,” frowned Ghost.
The old man chuckled as he moved toward a high-back chair. Practically falling into it, he gave a loud huff, then set the cane by his feet.
“Sit down,” said Miller to the two North Korean guards. They stared at him, wondering if they should fight, but Cao shook his head.
“Sit. We won’t be leaving here. Will we, gentlemen?”
“Did you hire the Shaws to conduct experiments on kids and animals?” asked Gaspar.
“I hired the Shaws to find a way to make my soldiers more fearless. I needed them to rush into the fire, not run away from it. They’ve become soft and aren’t willing to die for their country, as I was prepared to do.”
“Forgive me, general, but I know enough about your troops to know that they would never run away from a battle. They are well-trained men and women,” said Ian.
“Pfft!” he spat, waving a hand in the air. “Women. I would never allow women in our great military. Now, they are allowed to do whatever the men do.”
