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But poor Ollie—poor Oliver Davies. Sometime in the next twenty-four hours, a couple of somber men in dark suits will knock at a young Englishwoman’s door to tell her that she is now a widow, and that her love—her husband, the father of her children—is not coming home.
Some success!
And I feel a tinge of guilt, knowing that at some point soon after, I’ll be getting home tomybeloveds—my Tom and our daughter, Denise—safe and sound once again.
“There she is,” Jordan calls out.
I squirm and aim my binoculars on the approaching helicopter as it flies close to the mountain peaks and the jagged ridgelines. I focus in and see that it’s a Sikorsky S-92 chopper. But it’s not military, painted in camouflage or olive drab; it’s bright yellow, with blue stripes.
Santiago says, “Where the hell is that thing from—Disney World?”
Jeremy grins. “British Petroleum, friend.”
Jordan says, “What? BP?”
I stand up and the others do the same. Jeremy says, “Haven’t you ever heard the sun never sets on the British business empire?”
My two Americans laugh and Jeremy laughs with them, but I don’t like his attitude. I don’t like what’s going on with him.
Something just isn’t right.
Even though our mission is over and we’re seconds away from being exfilled out of here, I sense something else is going on with Jeremy.
It’s like he’s looking beyond the here and now, to something else down the road.
I don’t like it.
The helicopter comes right in to our little rocky landing field, and I can just imagine what the pilot and crew must be thinking:pulled away from a standard civilian flight in the Mediterranean, then dispatched to this piece of rocky moonscape to pick up a squad of armed and nameless fighters?
I hope they get hazard pay.
I turn and crouch as the helicopter roars in for a landing, landing gear extended down from the large side nacelles, dirt and pebbles striking the back of my neck. When it touches the rocky ground, the near side door slides open, and I don’t have to say a word.
Jordan and Santiago race ahead, heads lowered, carrying their gear and weapons.
I join them, and Jeremy is right behind me.
Jordan goes in first, helps Santiago in. A crewman in a blue jumpsuit and wearing a large helmet takes their gear.
I toss in my rucksack and Santiago pulls me in.
I turn.
Jeremy is coming right behind me.
He’s coming right to the door.
He smiles.
Salutes.
Turns away.
The helicopter starts to lift up and I make a snap, crazy, and probably deadly decision.
I jump out.
Chapter13
