him. Six men, all sharing a common feature. Their eyes spoke of an immeasurable yet controllable capacity for violence. Killers’ eyes. “Get Lincoln on the line. I want his team ready to roll ASAP.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Send the mission briefing to him. Give him a status report. Call me back when they’re moving.”
“Will do, Top.”
Carter studied the screen again. The short list of operator names blinked green. The green highlights told him that they were all live and active. A single click on each of the highlighted names would open their personnel files giving full names, military histories and contact details. But Carter knew most of the details already. He scanned the call signs and allowed himself a tight-lipped smile. He was confident that the Presidents would get the job done.
He considered the Apostles for a moment. The four-man team, if still operational, could assist the replacement team. That would give a mobile force of ten. Carter had witnessed fire teams of less raze entire villages during his time in Africa.
The six names continued to blink green.
Lincoln. Washington. Bush. Clinton. Kennedy. Roosevelt.
All were highly qualified. He moved the cursor and clicked on an icon showing the other team. The call signs of the Apostles appeared. The four names blinked green. Carter scowled slightly, considering. Would he have to close the file on Matthew, Mark, Luke and John? Only time would tell. If they
were
still alive and had dropped the ball, he would deliver some old-style biblical wrath himself.
Twenty minutes and another pot of coffee later, Magson confirmed that the Presidents had received and accepted the assignment. Thomas Carter, known to his teams as Topcat, allowed himself to smile fully for the first time that day.
17
Andrea’s scream tore through the house. Danny was the first through the bedroom door, his hair mussed from sleep but his muscles coiled and ready to spring. Just as quickly he relaxed and waved at Clay and Tansen—who was wearing pyjama bottoms decorated with rodeo clowns—gesturing them to hold back. “She’s all right.”
Andrea was on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees. She rocked back and forth, tears fresh on her face.
“Oh, Jesus. It was all real.”
Danny sat on the floor next to her. “Are you okay?” He knew how inane the question sounded, yet had to ask.
“I was dreaming. But it was real.”
Danny looked into her eyes, trying to think of some comforting words. None came easy to him. “I—we—
will
make them pay.”
Andrea swallowed. It sounded like there was a lump in her throat big enough to choke her.
His voice was as sharp as flint as he repeated his words.
“Why would you? You don’t owe me anything. You don’t know anything about me. Why would you risk your life for a stranger?”
“I guess we all have to stand up on a train once in our lives.”
Andrea smiled weakly. “Yeah. Clay told me about that.”
She scrutinised him. Danny could guess what attracted her gaze—the scars around his eyebrows, old scars, like those of a boxer. She dropped her eyes. “Help me up?”
Danny stood and offered his hand. As she gained her feet, she reached out tentatively, her fingers stopping a fraction of an inch short of his face. “Danny…”
He pulled away gently. “Come on. You’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. You need to catch up with the team. We shouldn’t have stayed this long but we thought you needed the rest. Hell, so did we.” He looked at his watch. “It’s nearly six a.m. Time to get moving.”
Andrea looked shocked. “Really? I feel like I’ve hardly closed my eyes.”
“That’s the effect of shock. Your mind just wants to shut down and block out all the bad shit.”
“I feel numb. Not just emotionally but bodily as well.” Andrea clenched and unclenched her hands several times as if trying to restore some feeling to her limbs.
“The worst thing about shock is it can sneak up on you
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Send the mission briefing to him. Give him a status report. Call me back when they’re moving.”
“Will do, Top.”
Carter studied the screen again. The short list of operator names blinked green. The green highlights told him that they were all live and active. A single click on each of the highlighted names would open their personnel files giving full names, military histories and contact details. But Carter knew most of the details already. He scanned the call signs and allowed himself a tight-lipped smile. He was confident that the Presidents would get the job done.
He considered the Apostles for a moment. The four-man team, if still operational, could assist the replacement team. That would give a mobile force of ten. Carter had witnessed fire teams of less raze entire villages during his time in Africa.
The six names continued to blink green.
Lincoln. Washington. Bush. Clinton. Kennedy. Roosevelt.
All were highly qualified. He moved the cursor and clicked on an icon showing the other team. The call signs of the Apostles appeared. The four names blinked green. Carter scowled slightly, considering. Would he have to close the file on Matthew, Mark, Luke and John? Only time would tell. If they
were
still alive and had dropped the ball, he would deliver some old-style biblical wrath himself.
Twenty minutes and another pot of coffee later, Magson confirmed that the Presidents had received and accepted the assignment. Thomas Carter, known to his teams as Topcat, allowed himself to smile fully for the first time that day.
17
Andrea’s scream tore through the house. Danny was the first through the bedroom door, his hair mussed from sleep but his muscles coiled and ready to spring. Just as quickly he relaxed and waved at Clay and Tansen—who was wearing pyjama bottoms decorated with rodeo clowns—gesturing them to hold back. “She’s all right.”
Andrea was on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees. She rocked back and forth, tears fresh on her face.
“Oh, Jesus. It was all real.”
Danny sat on the floor next to her. “Are you okay?” He knew how inane the question sounded, yet had to ask.
“I was dreaming. But it was real.”
Danny looked into her eyes, trying to think of some comforting words. None came easy to him. “I—we—
will
make them pay.”
Andrea swallowed. It sounded like there was a lump in her throat big enough to choke her.
His voice was as sharp as flint as he repeated his words.
“Why would you? You don’t owe me anything. You don’t know anything about me. Why would you risk your life for a stranger?”
“I guess we all have to stand up on a train once in our lives.”
Andrea smiled weakly. “Yeah. Clay told me about that.”
She scrutinised him. Danny could guess what attracted her gaze—the scars around his eyebrows, old scars, like those of a boxer. She dropped her eyes. “Help me up?”
Danny stood and offered his hand. As she gained her feet, she reached out tentatively, her fingers stopping a fraction of an inch short of his face. “Danny…”
He pulled away gently. “Come on. You’ve been asleep for nearly fifteen hours. You need to catch up with the team. We shouldn’t have stayed this long but we thought you needed the rest. Hell, so did we.” He looked at his watch. “It’s nearly six a.m. Time to get moving.”
Andrea looked shocked. “Really? I feel like I’ve hardly closed my eyes.”
“That’s the effect of shock. Your mind just wants to shut down and block out all the bad shit.”
“I feel numb. Not just emotionally but bodily as well.” Andrea clenched and unclenched her hands several times as if trying to restore some feeling to her limbs.
“The worst thing about shock is it can sneak up on you
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