10
Logan
The moon is full as I slip over the wall.
I land on the rocks below as gently as I can, making almost no noise. I smile to myself as I slip toward the ocean, sticking close to the large rocks, staying as invisible as I can.
It feels good to move with stealth again. This is the sort of shit that I’m trained for, not turning some poor innocent girl into a sex slave. Although to be fair, I do enjoy looking at Riley’s gorgeous naked body more than I like crawling around on some rocks.
This is the mission, though. I’ve been here for nearly a week and so it’s time to get a message to my superiors. I’m not recommending that they make a move, but they do need to have all of the data that I’ve accumulated so far. When they do make a move, it won’t be a small thing, and they need time to plan.
I slip across the rocks and down to the beach. I try not to think about Riley and her naked body, her embarrassed but excited face, the way her panties felt dripping wet against my tongue. I have to breathe deep and move faster, hustling away from the compound toward a large outcropping of rocks and dunes to the south.
The guards at that place aren’t particularly well-trained. Some of them might be ex-military, but none of them stand a chance against me and my men. We only need to get the numbers right before someone makes a move. Fortunately though, slipping in and out of the compound is proving to be relatively easy.
I reach the rocks after about a ten-minute walk. There’s a nice, secluded cavernous space toward the center of the outcropping which I reach by crawling down a slot between large boulders. Once I’m on solid land, I remove the pack from my shoulder and take out a small laptop.
In a few minutes, I have a direct link to my superiors. I begin to upload all of the data that I’ve gathered so far. In the meantime, I open a messaging window with the operations desk and type a quick communication.
“Logan Code Word Albatross, Safe and Secure. Girl is ready for extraction. Asking for instructions.” I hit send and wait for a response.
Part of me hopes that they’ll recommend early removal for her. If they’re satisfied with the data, maybe they’ll even order it tonight. That would be the ideal situation. That way her nightmare can end and I can start killing these fucking bastards.
But that’s not to be, unfortunately.
“Desk Code Word Sherry. Operations does NOT recommend early removal. Continue collection and report in three days.”
I read the message again and sigh to myself. Three days is a long time. They must be moving extra cautiously with this.
“Roger. Over and out.” I hit send, wait for the last bit of data to transmit, and then shut the laptop. I slip it back into the bag and then crawl out of the rocks.
I head back toward the compound, just as conflicted as before. I keep thinking about Riley as I walk along the beach, moving in the direction of the compound.
I’m distracted, and that’s stupid. When you’re out in the field, you have to be ready at all times. But Riley fucking distracts me. Everything about this mission is a goddamn distraction. I can’t seem to get my head on right as I pick my way across the rocks.
And that’s why I don’t see him until I’m practically in top of him.
“Quien eres tu?”
I stop in my tracks and look to my left. Standing silhouetted in the moonlight is a man holding a high-powered rifle.
I curse under my breath and put up my hands. I walk toward him smiling. I’m closer to the compound than I realized and they must be running occasional scouts out toward the beach, because this stretch was empty when I left.
“Sorry, no hable espanol, mi amigo,” I say, laying my American accent on thick.
“Who are you?” the man asks in English.
“I’m Logan, you know, Anton’s friend. Just going for a stroll.”
I stop close to the man. He doesn’t point the rifle at me, which is good, but he looks skeptical. He’s older, in his forties, with a big fat beer belly. I recognize him from the compound. He’s definitely not one of the military guys.
“Why you out here?” he asks me.
“Just going for a walk. You know. Stretching my legs.”
“Why you got that?” He gestures at my backpack.
I smile and act like I’m about to remove it, getting closer to him.
But instead of showing him the bag, I move quickly like a snake. I strike out, jamming my fingers into his throat. He stumbles back, gagging, and I snap a kick straight into his wrist. He can’t cry out because of the gagging, but he releases the gun with some serious pain. I follow that up with another two strikes to his chest and his stomach before finally striking him in the nose, sending him sprawling.