Sacrifice by Will Jordan Page A

if not thorough in her work.
    The young woman made a face. Such a task was likely to be both difficult and laborious, and certainly wasn’t something she relished after a sixteen-hour flight.
    Drake, however, was in no mood to discuss it. ‘No arguments. Just get it done,’ he said, cutting her off before she could protest. ‘Oh, and find us somewhere to work from. An office or a briefing room. I don’t care.’
    ‘Anything else? Want a masseuse on standby?’
    Drake gave her the thousand-yard stare.
    ‘Okay, okay. I’ll get it done,’ she conceded unhappily, pulling her door open. ‘What about you? Where the hell are you going?’
    ‘The crash site.’ There was no question in his mind. He wanted to understand what had happened out there. ‘I want to see it for myself.’
    Rounding the vehicle, Frost retrieved her bag from the back. ‘Sure. Leave me with the shitty job.’
    ‘That’s what you get paid for,’ he reminded her. ‘Call us if you find anything.’
    Giving him the finger, the young woman turned and strode off down the road.
    ‘She’s … colourful,’ McKnight remarked.
    ‘You have no idea,’ Drake assured her, checking his watch. They still had most of the day ahead of them, and he intended to use it. ‘We need to get to that crash site now.’
    She flashed a grin and threw the big 4x4 into gear. ‘I was hoping you’d say that.’

Chapter 6
    Drake fired up his cellphone as soon as they were clear of the airfield. He was greeted by two messages: one from Etisalat Communications welcoming him to Afghanistan, and another from Breckenridge back at Langley advising him to check in as soon as he’d landed.
    One advantage of working with the Agency was that they were actually allowed their own cellphones out here. Regular soldiers had to leave them at their embarkation area back home. Of course, the door swung both ways. The obvious downside to always being in touch with one’s superiors was dealing with constant requests for updates and information.
    Steeling himself, Drake dialled Breckenridge’s number. Afghanistan was about nine and a half hours ahead of Langley, making it just after midnight on that side of the world.
    It rang only once before it was answered. The man must have been hovering over the damn thing. Drake was beginning to wonder if he ever slept.
    ‘Talk to me, Drake,’ was the curt greeting.
    Drake’s reply was equally brief. ‘We’re on the ground. We’re en route to the crash site now.’
    ‘Good. Keep me updated. I want a written summary of your findings by the end of the day.’
    Drake frowned. ‘I’ll update you when I can.’
    It wasn’t as if he was going to be sitting in an air-conditioned office while he was out here. Finding Mitchell was the priority. Writing up reports could come later.
    ‘No, you’ll update me when I say so,’ Breckenridge corrected him. ‘I have to report in just like you, and I can’t do that if I’m in the dark. Is this in any way unclear?’
    Drake’s grip on the phone tightened. ‘No, George. As always you’ve made yourself very clear.’
    His tone was lost on the older man. ‘Good. I’ll expect to hear from you after you’ve surveyed the crash site. Out.’
    Shutting down the phone, Drake shook his head. ‘Prick.’
    ‘Christ, and I thought Dietrich was hard to work with,’ Keegan remarked. ‘This guy makes being an asshole a full-time job.’
    Dietrich had been a specialist drafted into their team for the ill-fated prison break operation last year. Though he had ultimately proven his worth in the tumultuous events that followed, he had been a nightmare for Drake during the planning stage, clashing constantly with him over important decisions.
    Still, Drake would rather have dealt with a dozen Dietrichs over one Breckenridge at that moment.
    ‘Well, he’s halfway around the planet,’ he reasoned. ‘Be grateful for that.’
    ‘Not far enough for me, buddy. I can’t believe Franklin picked a dumb REMF like him