brilliant idea Travis had gotten to ride with the raven now cloyed. The myriad scents bothered his bear, as did the close confines of the vehicle. His beast paced the confines of his mind, snuffling and anxious, projecting an aura of danger, which Travis surmised arose because of his own inherent dislike of their driver.
Determined to hate Frederick on principal, after meeting the jerk, he now just hated him plain and simple. Even were he not mated to Jess, the guy would have grated on his nerves. Just like he irritated Brody, who kept a wary eye on him, and Boris, who idly toyed with a knife—which he’d acquired from who knew where. As for Layla, she appeared at rest with her eyes closed, but somehow Travis doubted she slept. More than likely she attempted to communicate with some of the wildlife around them. Although how she managed that from a moving vehicle, he wouldn’t hazard to guess.
The Jeep, with the other members of their merry band, had pulled ahead of the Humvee, far enough that Travis couldn’t discern Jess’s red hair, not through the plume of dust they left in their wake.
Yet, neither the cloud of particles nor their closed and almost soundproof cabin could mask the crack of someone shooting.
Spines instantly straightened, gazes turned to the nearest windows as they peered about, seeking the source.
Only their driver seemed unconcerned. His trajectory never wavering.
“That’s gunfire. Is someone aiming at us?” Brody asked, one hand braced on the dash as he craned forward straining to see.
“Negative,” Boris replied. “The shots appear to be coming from up ahead.”
It didn’t take a genius to grasp the implication.
Someone is shooting at the Jeep. Jess!
“Fuck, and them without a cover. And I can’t see a goddamned thing. Master Corporal, can you radio the Jeep and see if they’re okay?” Brody asked Frederick.
“Try the walkie-talkie. It’s in the console between the seats.”
As Brody dug it out, Boris sheathed his knife.
“I need a gun,” Boris stated.
The words Travis never thought to hear from the moose made Travis blurt out, “You’re not armed? Since when do you not carry a gun?”
“Since you can’t board a fucking aircraft with a bloody nail file.”
“But you have a knife.”
“A knife I borrowed when I used the men’s room at the airstrip. Some local thought he could intimidate me. I taught him otherwise.”
“How come we don’t have guns?” Travis mused aloud. “I thought the military was supposed to be helping us.”
“Because pinhead here didn’t think to bring us any.” Boris glared.
Frederick didn’t even bother to give a glance as he replied, “I’m not authorized to—”
At his repeated standard answer, Brody growled. “Yeah, we get that, and I have to say it’s mighty convenient, for the enemy I might add, that you’re claiming that.”
“Are you accusing me of being a traitor?”
“Nope. Just saying it’s mighty suspicious that not only were we not armed as expected upon arrival, but now we’re under attack.”
Without a word, the corporal withdrew his sidearm—almost died as Boris lunged forward in reaction—and handed the gun to Boris.
The moose grasped it and leaned back, his deadly instinct restrained for the moment, but Travis could still sense the suspicion. “That’s better, birdman. Maybe I won’t pluck you for dinner today.”
A shame. It would have solved a few problems.
“What about weapons for the rest of us?” Brody asked.
To his surprise, Frederick jerked a thumb at the rear. “We keep a few spare guns and ammo in the back.”
“Travis, grab them, would you?”
Easier said than done. He humped himself over the top of the seat and dropped into the back with their luggage. Buried under their bags, he found a locked case.
Ha, as if that puny padlock could stop him. His bear had broken tougher things than that before in pursuit of a prank. Grasping the metal in a fist, he crushed it and popped
Determined to hate Frederick on principal, after meeting the jerk, he now just hated him plain and simple. Even were he not mated to Jess, the guy would have grated on his nerves. Just like he irritated Brody, who kept a wary eye on him, and Boris, who idly toyed with a knife—which he’d acquired from who knew where. As for Layla, she appeared at rest with her eyes closed, but somehow Travis doubted she slept. More than likely she attempted to communicate with some of the wildlife around them. Although how she managed that from a moving vehicle, he wouldn’t hazard to guess.
The Jeep, with the other members of their merry band, had pulled ahead of the Humvee, far enough that Travis couldn’t discern Jess’s red hair, not through the plume of dust they left in their wake.
Yet, neither the cloud of particles nor their closed and almost soundproof cabin could mask the crack of someone shooting.
Spines instantly straightened, gazes turned to the nearest windows as they peered about, seeking the source.
Only their driver seemed unconcerned. His trajectory never wavering.
“That’s gunfire. Is someone aiming at us?” Brody asked, one hand braced on the dash as he craned forward straining to see.
“Negative,” Boris replied. “The shots appear to be coming from up ahead.”
It didn’t take a genius to grasp the implication.
Someone is shooting at the Jeep. Jess!
“Fuck, and them without a cover. And I can’t see a goddamned thing. Master Corporal, can you radio the Jeep and see if they’re okay?” Brody asked Frederick.
“Try the walkie-talkie. It’s in the console between the seats.”
As Brody dug it out, Boris sheathed his knife.
“I need a gun,” Boris stated.
The words Travis never thought to hear from the moose made Travis blurt out, “You’re not armed? Since when do you not carry a gun?”
“Since you can’t board a fucking aircraft with a bloody nail file.”
“But you have a knife.”
“A knife I borrowed when I used the men’s room at the airstrip. Some local thought he could intimidate me. I taught him otherwise.”
“How come we don’t have guns?” Travis mused aloud. “I thought the military was supposed to be helping us.”
“Because pinhead here didn’t think to bring us any.” Boris glared.
Frederick didn’t even bother to give a glance as he replied, “I’m not authorized to—”
At his repeated standard answer, Brody growled. “Yeah, we get that, and I have to say it’s mighty convenient, for the enemy I might add, that you’re claiming that.”
“Are you accusing me of being a traitor?”
“Nope. Just saying it’s mighty suspicious that not only were we not armed as expected upon arrival, but now we’re under attack.”
Without a word, the corporal withdrew his sidearm—almost died as Boris lunged forward in reaction—and handed the gun to Boris.
The moose grasped it and leaned back, his deadly instinct restrained for the moment, but Travis could still sense the suspicion. “That’s better, birdman. Maybe I won’t pluck you for dinner today.”
A shame. It would have solved a few problems.
“What about weapons for the rest of us?” Brody asked.
To his surprise, Frederick jerked a thumb at the rear. “We keep a few spare guns and ammo in the back.”
“Travis, grab them, would you?”
Easier said than done. He humped himself over the top of the seat and dropped into the back with their luggage. Buried under their bags, he found a locked case.
Ha, as if that puny padlock could stop him. His bear had broken tougher things than that before in pursuit of a prank. Grasping the metal in a fist, he crushed it and popped
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