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“I heard you were on board,” said a man Striker hadn’t seen in years. “How the heck are you, Ellis?”
The two men shook hands. “Good to see you, Trap. Still with the agency, huh?”
“Yep, and drivin’ the bus. I’ve got an ex-wife and two daughters that I’ll eventually have to put through college, man.”
“Ouch,” said Striker, who then pointed to his teammates. “You know Razor Sharp and Monk Perrin. Boys, this is Trap Flannery. We go way back to my first day at the agency.”
“We haven’t met although I’ve heard of both of you.”
Monk didn’t appear to have heard a word the man said, however, that was more his MO than all the talking he’d done in the last few minutes.
“Hey, I heard Butler snagged Fatale,” said Trap.
Razor shook his head. “Don’t ever let her hear you say something like that.”
“Who’s flying with you?” asked Razor.
“Someone you know pretty well.” Trap pointed at the bridge. “Here he is now.”
“Hello, boys,” said Mantis Gehring as he walked on the plane, followed by someone else they knew pretty well—Dutch Miller.
“Heard some of ours are MIA,” said Dutch, putting his hand on Striker’s shoulder. “Can’t believe you didn’t call me.”
“Heard you were retired.”
Dutch patted his stomach. “Retired? Shit. I’m in the best shape of my life.”
“Thanks to Malin,” said Mantis, giving Dutch a shove.
“I’m happy to give my bride all the credit in the world, for pretty much everything.”
“Good to see you two,” said Striker, shaking both their hands. “Even though the circumstances suck. How’s your wife?” he asked Mantis.
“Alegria’s doing the full-time-mom thing.”
“Congratulations on the little tyke,” said Razor.
“Thanks. He’s a couple of weeks old, and yet he rules our roost. Have you heard Dutch is gonna be a dad too?”
“Wow. How is Malin?” asked Striker.
The woman had been the driving force behind the arrest and conviction of several high-ranking CIA agents and governmental officials. They could use someone with her brain on this mission, and he told Dutch so.
“I don’t know if she’ll ever be ready to return to the workforce, and I support her one hundred percent on that decision. For now, her full-time job is incubation.”
Razor clapped Dutch on the back. “Congratulations to you too,” he said. “When’s she due?”
“April of next year.”
“Happy for you, man,” said Striker, shaking Dutch’s hand.
“What about you? When are you gonna add to our future workforce?”
Striker forced a smile; Dutch had no idea how painful that question would be for him to answer.
26
The minute the plane landed, Striker’s, Razor’s, and Monk’s phones started blowing up. Striker read the texts first before listening to the messages, but each one was from someone asking him to check in as soon as he landed.
