Page 109 of Fixed Asset

“At your back.”

I spun to look behind me. Nothing. I looked left, then right, and still nothing.

“You know better than that, Sphynx.”

Damn, he was right. If Phantom didn’t want to be seen, he wasn’t seen. Further from that, the man could materialize and dematerialize right before your eyes.

Like vapor.

“How are we doing this?” I asked.

“East to the dock. It’s less than two klicks. I got your back.”

I continued walking toward the neighborhood, but instead of walking through it, I’d veer right and go into the town proper.

When I was on my way, I asked, “How do you know where they are?”

“The locals talk via unsecured handheld radios.”

That was stupid of them but good for us.

“Are you responsible for my new 300 Blackout?”

“I know how much you love a Honey Badger.”

I barely suppressed a laugh.

“So sue me, I love a good brand name.”

“I remember.”

There was a melancholy there I didn’t like.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t get pissed if I don’t answer.”

That was new. The man I remembered was open with his team. He was one of the ones who, on those long walks, would wax poetic about growing up in Nebraska. He told stories about working on the ranch, getting drunk by the ‘crick,’ as he called it, the high school shenanigans he got up to, and a whole slew of other things besides. He’d never not answered a question, personal or otherwise.

I hated that he now sounded closed off and closed down.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’m alive.”

I hated that more, because him being alive and the undertone in which he said it meant something ugly.

“Shawn—”

“Shawn Miller is dead, Catarina.”

He wasn’t. He was very much alive, talking to me.

“Right.”

“He died in that cave with the rest of his team.”

My heart bled for my old friend. A good man, a loyal teammate, a skilled soldier. A man I never thought I’d see or hear from again. Not because I didn’t know if he was alive. I’d heard he’d been rescued, but after he was pulled from the bowels of hell, he’d done what he was good at doing and dematerialized.