“About fucking time you found him,” Van grumbled from the far end of the table.
Chase and the others looked at their perpetually grumpy teammate, not at all surprised by the guy’s attitude. Donovan “Van” Braddock was a surly bastard of the highest regard. But what he lacked in bedside manner, the tall, dark, and muscular former SEAL made up for in skill.
And despite Van’s Herculean effort to portray the contrary, Chase knew deep,deepdown, the guy’s heart was every bit as big as the rest of theirs. Not that Van would ever dare show it.
“Braddock, let’s you and I make a deal, shall we?” Webb zeroed in on Van. “Maybe let’s bypass the bullshit back-and-forth dance we typically do and just get to what matters.”
“What matters is it’s been over three goddamn years since our team got ambushed on that fucking mountain…three years since we were forced to watch Huntdie…and we’re still no closer to identifying the son of a bitch who sold our asses out. And before you say there’s no proof that’s what happened, we all know theonlyway those assholes knew we’d be there was if someone tipped them off.”
Chase couldn’t argue with the man’s claim. The mission three years ago should have been a simple in and out. A fact-finding op designed to confirm a man named Jamal Hassan Muhammad was in Kandahar, as had been reported.
That was it. See the man. Take a few photos. Report back to SECNAV. The. Fucking. End. Only that hadn’t been the way their story had ended.
They may have climbed that mountain together as a six-man team. But fate had forced them to fly back home in silence, watching over the body of their murdered brother and wondering how the hell it had gone so wrong.
“I know exactly how long it’s been, Van,” Webb shot back, resting his meaty hands on his belted hips. “And there hasn’t been a single fucking day that’s gone by since that I haven’t thought about what happened to you men.” He swallowed hard. “Or to Hunter. Which is why I thought you all deserved to hear the news in person.”
“You said you found Akimi.” Chase brought the conversation full circle. “He finally decide to come out of hiding long enough to give up the sons of bitches who tried like hell to kill us all that day?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Webb picked up the small remote resting on the table before him. With the push of a button, he powered on the large ass screen mounted on the wall behind him.
The gruesome image that appeared would turn even the most hardened man’s stomach.
“Jesus,” Archer muttered beneath his breath.
Chase cringed, and Lucky blew out a frustrated breath.
“Son of a bitch,” Van growled, leaning back into his chair with a frustrated huff. Lifting his hands to the top of his head, he locked his fingers together and scowled.
Though Chase wanted nothing more than to look away from the still image of Akimi’s tortured corpse, he forced himself to study the picture with an operator’s eye.
“He didn’t go down easy,” he noted.
Even from here, it was easy to see the poor man’s fingers had all been broken. Every fingernail pulled from its delicate bed.
In a subconscious move, he curled his own fingers into a set of twin fists as he leaned in, resting his forearms on the table’s smooth surface. He’d take a bullet any day over having to withstand that shit.
Akimi withstood it. For a little while, at least.
“The doc who examined his body upon return to the States said every major bone in the man’s body had been broken, along with most of the smaller ones,” Webb explained. “Whoever did this knocked out all but four of Akimi’s teeth, they ruptured his spleen, cut him, burned him...and there was water present in his lungs, along with other physical evidence leading her to believe he was also waterboarded.”
It was Logan who spoke up next. “Hang on…you said, ‘whoever did this’. So you don’t know who killed him?”
“We have a suspect, and so far, the evidence from the scene is pretty?—”
“Here we go again.” Van threw up his hands in frustration.
“Van…” Archer shook his head in an attempt to stave off the frustrated man’s impending rage.
It didn’t work.
It never worked.
Because when Van got pissed…
“Another fucking dead end.Literally!” He gestured toward the dead asset still frozen on the screen. “Why even come here, Webb? What…you get your rocks off jerking us around like this? Is that it?”
“Van!” Logan jumped in with a more authoritative voice.