Disavowed by C. G. Cooper

the floor.
    He patted Andy on the cheek and received a weak smile in return. Andy’s eyes were bloodshot and his eyelids kept drooping like he was going in and out of delirium.
    “Close your eyes and get some rest,” said Isnard, patting his own shoulder so that his friend would rest his head there.
    Andy nodded and laid his head against his fellow Marine. He was snoring in less than a minute.
    Isnard leaned his head back and exhaled. He hated to think what would’ve happened if he’d pulled the trigger. Thank God for small miracles.
     
    +++
     
    Kandahar, Afghanistan
    1:05am AFT, August 25 th
     
    They piled into Kreyling’s two extended cab trucks, gear and one man in each of the beds. Daniel in one and Gaucho in the other.
    No sooner had they left the airport compound than four sets of lights popped up behind them, maybe two hundred yards back, the gap closing quickly.
    “You have a plan?” asked Cal.
    “Sort of. I was more worried about getting you to the hangar. Didn’t have much time to put a plan together,” answered Kreyling who was driving. Rango was handling the second truck.
    “Do you have some place we can go?”
    “Sure, but I don’t want to lead those bastards to find out where we stay. Let me give some old friends a call. They owe me.”
    Kreyling pulled out a cell phone and started giving clipped orders to the guy on the other line. It didn’t sound like the Brit was talking to a friend, but that was just his way. All business. Niceties be damned.
    Soon after he put the phone back in his pocket. “It’s all set.”
    “What is?”
    Kreyling’s chuckle sounded more like a growl. “Don’t bother your pretty little head about it, Yank. Her Majesty’s finest have got you covered.” 
     
    +++
     
    Anthony Farrago gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, two of which still had blood on them from the beating he’d given the idiot in the tower. He’d never double-cross Farrago again.
    His troops were gaining on the Americans and whoever had paid off the airport manager. Farrago couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. He’d told his men that he didn’t care if anyone on the other side came out alive, but he was now reconsidering the order. He had to find out what these newcomers knew and how they’d gotten in touch with Isnard.
    The icing on the cake would be if they knew where Isnard and Andrews were. Sweeping up all the players in a neat little pile would not only save Farrago time, but it would allow him to green-light the rest of the operation. Time was ticking and he didn’t have long. With Coles gently nudging from Washington, Farrago knew this was it for him. Fix things or find another job.
    Hopefully after this one he wouldn’t have to worry about his future. One way or another, Anthony Farrago was going to seal the deal and ensure his legacy. Most men would want to take a vacation after something like this. He was already thinking about the next chess match. For Farrago it was all about the chase, a fact that none of his wives had appreciated. Adrenaline fueled him, pushed him farther.
    As he closed the gap with the two vehicles up ahead, Farrago thought of a line from one of his favorite movies, Road House, starring Patrick Swayze. Fitting for what he had planned coming from Sam Elliot’s hard living character, Wade Garrett. “I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m dead.” Farrago chuckled, popped another upper into his mouth, and pressed the pedal to the floor. 

Chapter 20
    Kandahar, Afghanistan
    1:24am AFT, August 25 th
     
    Kreyling took a hard right, pulling into a small parking lot. Cal estimated twelve to fifteen parking spots marked by rubble and splashes of white spray paint. One story buildings surrounded the lot, making it sort of a courtyard. It looked like a death trap to Cal. Nowhere to go. Their pursuers were close.
    “Please tell me you didn’t take a wrong turn.”
    Kreyling just shook his head, snagged the shotgun off the dash and stepped out.