The 'hotel' was technically too run down to deserve the name. Even in joking tones. The mattresses were little more
than fraying ropes strung over bent metal frames and the only 'bathroom' was little more than a shed with a hand
pump in the corner of the courtyard. But the walls were thick stone that kept the cool in the heat of the day and the
windows were small enough that the current residents had double wadded the blankets left on the beds and blocked
out the hot, bright sun. Sleeping bags rested over the rope webbing now and since the water from the pump was
clean at least, canteens full of water rested near each of the bunks, sometimes doubled up. 'Dinner' eaten close to a
sunrise arrival, had consisted of something too suspicious looking to be closely investigated that the family that
owned the place had supplied in trade for several bags of grain and a compass someone had given away to one of
the children in the family. But no one had gotten sick off it and it had at least had more flavor than MREs so once
again, there were no complaints from the men that had tossed themselves over the beds. One of their own dozed in
the doorway and another two were taking watch below. But for the most part the men were sleeping. Enjoying the first
'vacation' they'd had in months. Downtime for a job well done ahead of schedule. And since the darkened room was
cooler than the barracks waiting for them back at base, there hadn't been much push to get their pickup chopper in
earlier.
When one of the men that had been lurking below stepped over his fellow soldier in the doorway, most of the men
didn't even rouse. So used to each other's presence that they didn't even set off each others 'intruder alarms'
anymore. Carefully picking his way through the crowded room, the new arrival squatted down next to one of the bunks
and the lanky form tossed across it.
"Hey man." His voice was calm and low and he didn't make the mistake of touching the soldier he was waking. He
tapped one of their portable 'phones' against the side of the bed so that its plastic made a hollow sound. "Got a call
for you."
Never a good sign considering when they were 'off,' radio silence was the norm. Even worse if they wanted to talk
directly to you instead of just relaying the message. The soldier on the nearest cot glanced vaguely at his watch, the
brief illumination casting green across his face and made the kind of quiet sound someone made when a telemarketer
woke them up at three in the morning before rolling over on his side to offer his back and the illusion of privacy at
least. The man with the 'phone' handed it over and glanced to the side for the same reason. With the comm pack on
his back he wasn't able to go far but his face said his ears already were. The voice that came over the phone held all
the bright, cheeriness of someone who knew they were waking you up and enjoyed that fact.
"Good morning, sunshine." The tone was dry. And familiar. A voice from a camp almost a thousand miles away. And
definitely not someone that should have had the sequence to this radio. Or even been aware that this radio existed to
be called.
"I'd ask what you're wearing but I like letting my imagination fill in the blanks." Mike continued. Voice casual and easy.
Almost managing to entirely cover the strain underneath. And every special forces operator knew, the worse the
situation was, the more you cracked jokes. So when Mike stated:
"Don't stand up," it just drove the point home. There was a pause in the darkness. A break in the transmission or
simply Mike trying to find a way to say it. If it was the later he decided on blunt.
"Andi's gone. Snatch and grab as far as we can figure. And no one's asking ransom or taking responsibility. Military's
already shaking trees but so far nothing. Since you're personally involved, they're not going to assign you. But I
thought you should know anyway." There was a long pause that indicated Mike wasn't just sharing the news because
he thought it would be comforting coming from him first. Finally, he added: "You want details, you should probably
come see me next time you get leave."
"I'll be there in the morning." Hector said and handed the man back the phone. Then he smoothly got out of the bed
and started to get dressed, meaning putting on all his gear, since like everyone else, he slept fully clothed down to
his boots.
"Garrett...what's up?" The comm soldier, Brand, said, watching Hector get all his gear back on. Like usual, Hector just
half shrugged and continued strapping everything on and checking the ammo in his weapon. "That's a secure
channel, who was that on the phone?" He pressed.
"A friend." Hector said, as informative as always.
"A friend who knows secure Delta channels?" Brand said with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah. Okay. And where are you
going?"
"Away." He said.
"You are a fountain of information." Brand said, starting to get frustrated. He was the count man on this shift,
responsible for knowing where every single man of the chalk was at all times, hence why he was also comm man.
"I try." Hector said, arching an eyebrow at the other man. "I have to take care of something, all right?"
"You can't just leave. Does the word AWOL mean anything to you? Dishonorable discharge, prison time..."
Hector sighed and held out his hand for the phone again.
"Yeah, good luck getting permission." Brand said, handing it over and dialing base, knowing what Hector wanted.
"Victor One One to home nest." He said, establishing himself. "I need to speak to Grandpa Eagle right now." He
paused, listening for a moment. "Then wake him up." He waited a bit more. "Sir, this is Garrett. I have to go take care
of something....no it doesn't have to do with this op...no...how'd you hear about that?" He said. his eyes narrowing.
"Sir I officially request to be a part of this operation. Denied? You're kidding me!" He had to take a breath. His
superior was being logical, Hector was definitely far too personally involved in this to actually ever be assigned.
Major Hawthorne had done all the protocols, told his sergeant that he couldn't be a part of this op...but....he knew
Hector. He was relentless. His sigh over the comm was audible.
"Consider yourself on leave, Sergeant." He said, running a hand over his short cropped, thinning silver hair. "We'll
provide no official transportation." But...Deltas were resourceful.
"I'll report back when it's over." Hector said, an edge of gratefulness to his voice.
"I'm too old for this shit." Major Hawthorne said and hung up the comm. Brand looked at Hector.
"So...you're going back to Africa?"
"We're in Saudi Arabia, you make it sound so far." Hector said as he went back to gearing up. Brand watched him,
then nodded.
"Good luck." He said as Hector finished.
"Won't need it." Hector said, heading out of the door quietly.
He hopped a transport at a near by base, and managed to make it to the Red Cross camp right as the sun was
coming up, much to Mike's surprise.
"Details." Hector said simply. No greeting, no small talk. He was a man on a mission, even if it wasn't sanctioned.
Mike's brows jerked upward briefly when Hector strode in but that was the only comment he made on the quick arrival.
He handed Ahmed a couple protein bars and scruffed the kid's head, sending him outside with a lift of his chin.
"1800 we get a call." Mike was direct.
"Fire in one of the camps. Not the first time, but this time it’s bad. Really bad." Mike shook his head. 'Really bad' was
an understatement. He was still having nightmares. Made worse because the bodies so often started looking like
Andi's. "We all load up. Do what we can when we get there. Volunteers with the fire, doctors with the victims. Last I
saw Andi it must have been - " he shifted over to a table he had laid out. Full of maps and notations and pictures.
"Saw her about 2250. Working on a couple of sisters that had gotten caught under one of the metal pieces their
family was using as siding. Pretty close to 0200 everything's calmed down. UNs taken over with supplies and whatnot.
We load up and Suzette misses Andi. So we went looking for her. Here's what I've got." He didn't pause for
recriminations or explanations or excuses. Didn't deal with the fact he felt guilty as hell. Instead he spread pictures
and sketches and hand written notes across the table's surface, forming a familiar pattern.
"Last people to see her - girls she was working on. One of them died, other one's crit but says a couple of guys came
running over - said they'd just pulled another woman out of the rubble. Near as I can find so far, that's the point we
lost track of her. Kid wasn't too descriptive on the guys but the worker Andi put in charge of hydrating the kids says
they looked just like everyone else. Two males, black skinned, not light, hand-me-down clothes. Figure average
height, on the skinny side like everyone else. One of them had a scar or maybe just a burn here." Mike traced a
finger from temple to the bottom of his eye. "I've got sketches but they suck." He split two vague suspect sketches out
of a pile and handed them over. "Second guy's either got buggy eyes or was already panicking."
Another sketch, made from an operative's point of view got passed over next. Mike nodded.
"That's the camp. Before and after. Spots marked where the fire started, where it spread, where everyone was. Andi's
path near as I can trace." Another list got passed over. Names and notations. "Lists of the bad guys in the area at the
time. No one's touching this though. Blaming each other and lots of finger pointing but they're working real hard to
keep out from under this hammer. Messing with Red Cross not only brings down half a dozen nations on them but
makes them mighty unpopular with the people they count on for support and their fellow warlords. So here's the fun
part - " Mike paused long enough to take a swallow of water and handed Hector an unopened bottle as well. Met the
Delta's eyes.
"We've got tracks. Tire tracks. Heading south-west. They start about a mile from the camp and they were laid at about
the right time. Old truck, old tread. Empty cargo or something really light. Could be coincidence but don't believe it.
They hit a main road and disappear, still headed mostly west but they might have been smart enough to lay that
direction intentionally and have doubled back. The fire - that was set. Intentional. We know where it started and what
streamers they laid to make sure it spread fast. Nasty and messy - not professional - but it did the job. Don't know if it
was Andi they were after or just any body would have done. Don't even know if they were after a doctor, a woman, or
simply a hostage but it’s a lot of trouble to go through to simply nab a victim. Ahmed's doing some digging in the holes
only he can get into. Kid's a little too good at the job." Mike sighed. Finally gave in and rubbed the back of his neck.
"The general thought is, local set up, mostly armatures, maybe a bigger region that planned it though since there's a
lot of thought in this one. Told Ahmed to find Scarface because I'm betting he's part of the local."
Mike dropped down in a nearby chair that looked like it had gotten a hell of a lot more use than the bunk next to the
table.
"That's what I got. I'm 'unofficial' you see." His smile lacked humor. "Not trained so I'm not part of the 'team'. But
they've got some of my guys on it and so I'm getting the intel too. What you see is what they got plus a little I've just
pulled together myself. People'll talk to a doctor when they're scared of everyone else. And believe me - everyone's
scared over this. Lot of them know and like Andi but all of them know we're going to pull out over this with the next stiff
breeze that comes our way and they'll be on their own again. Sam's fighting it. We'll see." He didn't offer his opinion.
"Team's international. Couple SAS I think cause she's got that English passport. One of them - Baker - he's in
charge. Your boys have given us a few though I don't recognize them from your squad. Two SEALs. Coupla UN
yahoos. And one Israeli something or other I can't pin down and can't pigeon hole. Just says he's 'liaison and
advice'." Mike offered his hands. Palm up. Andi's gesture. Less than two days. He felt like he'd managed decent intel.
And still felt like it was worth shit.
"What I've got is yours. What they've got is mine and yours now too. But Baker doesn't like strays and he's not going
to like you. Hell, he only tolerates me and we both know I'm better looking than you are." He met Hector's eyes again,
his own steel. "We're team on this though or I give you squat. Don't even think of leaving me behind."