any degree of conviction, “you are simply here to answer questions.”
Slater growled, “Now, lieutenant.”
“They weren’t involved. We let them go.”
Slater hoped Barnes managed to keep herself and Hanbali hidden. He stood back and scrubbed a hand over his face. Even if the women were safe, the bag with the information was certainly not.
“Where is the luggage?”
The lieutenant seemed to regain some ground now that his prisoner had backed off, “You are facing some serious repercussions, and all you can think of is a couple duffle bags.”
“Listen, Lieutenant,” Slater ran a hand over his belt, “I’ll make a deal with you. I promise to not make you look completely incompetent if you tell me where the bags are.”
The other man smirked, “You special forces guys all think you own the world. I’m going to leave you for the major.”
Slater had had enough. In a lightning quick movement, he reached over and pulled the lieutenant toward him, dragging those long chicken legs over the table.
Covering the lieutenant ’s mouth, “I hate to do this to you – to any fellow soldier, really – but I’m running out of time.”
He removed the cuffs from the MP’s clip and fastened the surprised man to a chair.
“I suppose you know better than to scream like a little girl when I let go of your mouth?” Slater was pulling the gun from the man’s holster and putting it in his own.
The lieutenant nodded.
“Good,” he dropped his hand. “Now, I’m going to tell you something helpful for future reference. Special forces carry more than two knives. Your men didn’t bother with my belt or my holster. They should have.”
The man looked confused.
“Now, it’s your turn to tell me something.”
More confusion.
Slater was going to have to be specific, “Where’s the luggage?”
“Why – ”
Slater held up a finger, “Just where?”
“In holding,” the man’s shoulders slumped, “Two doors down.”
Slater threw him the keys, “Tell ‘em I attacked you and ran right by. Then I hit you on the head.”
The man removed his cuffs and looked up at Slater, “But you didn’t hit me, and they’ll check to see if – ”
Slater quickly obliged and then left the room as naturally and calmly as possible.
He found the holding room when the lieutenant said it would be. The room was unoccupied and the luggage was lying, unguarded, on a table.
If there was one thing Slater had learned about being in an uncertain situation, it was to act as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
He went into the room, picked up the bags, and turned to leave.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” a colonel barred his exit.
Slater stood at attention, “Sir.”
The colonel folded his arms across his chest, “I asked you a question, Captain.”
Slater assessed the situation. He needed to get himself out of the room while leaving the colonel within. He eyed the ranking officer’s chest patches.
Slater glanced back at the table from which the bags had come, “I’m bringing these back to their rightful owners.”
“No,” the colonel stepped into the room, “you’re putting them back on the table and coming with me.”
Slater shifted all the luggage to his left side, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”
The colonel came a little closer, ready to give the captain a piece of his mind. That was all Slater needed. He ducked around the older man so his back was to the door.
“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, sir. I mean no disrespect.”
The colonel did not have time to register Slater’s words before the sound of Velcro announced the removal of the colonel’s rank and name from that man’s chest.
“Captain,” the colonel barked, “this will mean a court martial.”
Slater winced, but he knew there was no other option.
He pulled his pistol, “I’m going to need your sidearm too, sir.”
If looks could kill. . .
After receiving the weapon, Slater opened the door, faced
Slater growled, “Now, lieutenant.”
“They weren’t involved. We let them go.”
Slater hoped Barnes managed to keep herself and Hanbali hidden. He stood back and scrubbed a hand over his face. Even if the women were safe, the bag with the information was certainly not.
“Where is the luggage?”
The lieutenant seemed to regain some ground now that his prisoner had backed off, “You are facing some serious repercussions, and all you can think of is a couple duffle bags.”
“Listen, Lieutenant,” Slater ran a hand over his belt, “I’ll make a deal with you. I promise to not make you look completely incompetent if you tell me where the bags are.”
The other man smirked, “You special forces guys all think you own the world. I’m going to leave you for the major.”
Slater had had enough. In a lightning quick movement, he reached over and pulled the lieutenant toward him, dragging those long chicken legs over the table.
Covering the lieutenant ’s mouth, “I hate to do this to you – to any fellow soldier, really – but I’m running out of time.”
He removed the cuffs from the MP’s clip and fastened the surprised man to a chair.
“I suppose you know better than to scream like a little girl when I let go of your mouth?” Slater was pulling the gun from the man’s holster and putting it in his own.
The lieutenant nodded.
“Good,” he dropped his hand. “Now, I’m going to tell you something helpful for future reference. Special forces carry more than two knives. Your men didn’t bother with my belt or my holster. They should have.”
The man looked confused.
“Now, it’s your turn to tell me something.”
More confusion.
Slater was going to have to be specific, “Where’s the luggage?”
“Why – ”
Slater held up a finger, “Just where?”
“In holding,” the man’s shoulders slumped, “Two doors down.”
Slater threw him the keys, “Tell ‘em I attacked you and ran right by. Then I hit you on the head.”
The man removed his cuffs and looked up at Slater, “But you didn’t hit me, and they’ll check to see if – ”
Slater quickly obliged and then left the room as naturally and calmly as possible.
He found the holding room when the lieutenant said it would be. The room was unoccupied and the luggage was lying, unguarded, on a table.
If there was one thing Slater had learned about being in an uncertain situation, it was to act as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
He went into the room, picked up the bags, and turned to leave.
“What do you think you’re doing in here?” a colonel barred his exit.
Slater stood at attention, “Sir.”
The colonel folded his arms across his chest, “I asked you a question, Captain.”
Slater assessed the situation. He needed to get himself out of the room while leaving the colonel within. He eyed the ranking officer’s chest patches.
Slater glanced back at the table from which the bags had come, “I’m bringing these back to their rightful owners.”
“No,” the colonel stepped into the room, “you’re putting them back on the table and coming with me.”
Slater shifted all the luggage to his left side, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.”
The colonel came a little closer, ready to give the captain a piece of his mind. That was all Slater needed. He ducked around the older man so his back was to the door.
“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, sir. I mean no disrespect.”
The colonel did not have time to register Slater’s words before the sound of Velcro announced the removal of the colonel’s rank and name from that man’s chest.
“Captain,” the colonel barked, “this will mean a court martial.”
Slater winced, but he knew there was no other option.
He pulled his pistol, “I’m going to need your sidearm too, sir.”
If looks could kill. . .
After receiving the weapon, Slater opened the door, faced
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