Page 77 of Red, White, and BearCat Blue

“I’m gonna take Cam to the bus and get ‘im situated in front of the monitors so ‘e can make the ID, boss.”

“Okay, Clifford,” Candy said. “Hurry back. I need you up on top of that stack of containers and in position in less than five.”

“You got it.” I looked at Cam. “Come on. We’ve both got a job to do.” I tugged him to the bus, then opened the door. We both stepped inside and I was relieved to see Judy Mendez was already there, sitting at the console which ran the full length of the bus from front to back. Positioned over the desk were five separate monitors which were already lit. She was working her mouse like a shooting gallery and had started to broadcast the different views of the port, but she paused and turned our way when she heard the door open.

“Hey, nice to see you, Mars,” Judy said with a smile.

“Nice to see ya too, Judy. ‘Ave ya met Cam Demarco?”

She stood up and held out a hand. “No. It’s nice to meet you, Cam. I guess you’ll be with me tonight.”

Cam shook her hand, smiling at her. “Nice to meet you, Judy.”

I tugged on his sleeve and he turned. “Gotta go, luv.”

He reached for me, sliding his arms around my middle and lifting his face for a kiss. I complied, leaning down and kissing him soundly before giving him an encouraging smile. “Please be careful, Mars,” he pleaded, looking at me with such sweetness, it almost took my breath away.

“I will, luv.” I pecked his lips again, stepping back and asking Judy, “Please give ‘im a set of earwigs, Judy. Candy will need to talk to ‘im.”

She waved as I turned and headed for the door. “Will do, Mars.”

“Lock the door behind me.”

I held Cam’s gaze for a few seconds more before climbing down from the bus and shutting the door behind me.

CAM

I was both excited and worried, all at the same time. If things went well, Josiah would be arrested in the next hour or so and my mother and I would be safe. I hated the fact that Mars was putting his life on the line to catch the bastard, but there was nothing I could do but wait and watch while he and his friends did their best to take him down.

I was amazed by how many people they had on what Mars’ boss, Candy, had called an Op, but counting his Tac Team and all the people whom I’d met at the vacant fabrication warehouse this morning, there had to be thirty or more agents all working this single case.

Mars’ friend, Judy, gave me a set of earwigs similar to the ones I’d worn when we’d been chasing the car with Josiah’s guys in Vegas. I slid them into my ears as she pulled out a rolling, desk chair. “Have a seat, Cam. Can I call you Cam, or do you prefer Mr. Demarco?”

I smiled at her. “Cam is fine, thanks.” She began tapping her mouse again. I could see numerous shipping containers on the ground all over the place and realized that the FBI must have tapped into some sort of closed-circuit security system which had to be located around the port in order to see what I was seeing on the screens. There were several voices in my ear, and I tried listening to all of them at once, attempting to understand all the military jargon they were speaking.

I could hear them well enough, but they seemed to speak in a shorthand that only they knew, using abbreviations for things which I somehow thought I should know. Maybe I’d heard some of it when I’d played video games. Though since they had never held a whole lot of interest for me, I didn’t have a lot of experience with them. No one could exactly classify me as a gamer.

The way they spoke, though, confirmed that Mars was part and parcel of a tight team. I’d seen them in action once before, when they’d swept in and rescued all of us in the helicopter in Vegas. They’d been then, as they were now, very professional, no matter how one looked at it.

Judy pointed to a container. “There’s Mars. See him?”

A man was climbing up the side of two containers stacked on top of each other. He had a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder and he climbed fluidly. I’d recognize him anywhere, even from a distance. I watched him get to the top and then take up a position on his belly, situating the rifle in front of him. He looked so professional and it struck me, perhaps for the first time, that he was truly in his element here with all his friends.

I checked for his boss—Captain Sorensen—on one of the screens as Judy pointed to the darkly clad figure. He was situated about twenty-five feet from a container which seemed to be central to all the action, practically invisible in the dark. Judy pointed to others and as I narrowed my eyes, I could make out several men, now that I knew where to look.

“Were you aware that Mars was a sniper?” Judy asked.

I shook my head, glancing back at my man. “No. Not until tonight.”

“He’s one of two snipers on the team. Rex is the other.”

I nodded, still watching the screen. “The Texan.”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve got movement,” someone said. The person had an Irish accent and I pictured the shortest man on Mars’ team, the guy everyone called Patsy. “Red Ferrari coming in fast. He’s following a white van.”

“Got ‘im in my sights,” Mars said, voice strong and confident.