Edge of Tomorrow (48 page)

Hatch threw his shirt on the floor and stood
to take off his pants. Syd stripped off her multicolored skirt and
hung it over the back of the settee.

Hatch said, “My plan—before you presented
yours—was to have Bob Hatcher pay Bocca a visit. I hadn’t thought
much beyond that. Now that they have sent a sniper after us, I have
no qualms at all about teaching those assholes a very deadly
lesson. It’s your involvement that bothers me still.”

Syd stood and slipped off her white bikini
panties while saying, “Hatch! How many times do I have to prove
myself! I’m not just some fluff who shares your bed, dammit!”

“Hush! I know that! You’re the best agent
I’ve ever known—man or woman! That’s not my problem with this! You
are going to be really pissed off at the re-emergence of Anna Klein
when this is over, and I don’t want that anger to slop over into
our relationship! I’m afraid you’ll blame me for getting you
involved in this!” blurted Hatch as he stepped out of his boxer
shorts.

“Relationship!
Did I just hear Hatch Lincoln use the word
relationship
? My! My! And here I had
almost settled on being just the current fuckee!” chortled Syd as
she took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

She pulled back the covers on the large bed
and pushed him down on it, then lay down next to him and ran her
fingers through his graying chest hair.

“Syd …”

“Come on, Hatch! Chill out! I know what you
meant—I was just raggin’ on you! But it’s nice to hear you say the
word! I’m not looking forward to killing a bunch of those murdering
assholes, but they’ve left me no choice! Killing bus bombers didn’t
thrill me deep down either—killing is against my nature—but I felt
it was for the better good and saved many innocent lives. Now,
unfortunately, I’m very good at it. If you go against them, I’ll be
worried shitless! The only way I’ll be able to stand it is to be
there with you! So that’s settled! I’ll let you plan how we do
it.”

She ran her hand over his flat, muscled
stomach as she spoke her final sentence. He was gently playing with
her breasts. She kissed him softly on the lips.

“You don’t have trouble making decisions, do
you? Bob Hatcher always worked alone, though,” he said gently.

“So did Anna. That’s because neither of us
trusted anyone. We trust each other though, don’t we?” she cooed as
her hand reached his crotch. “You said we made a good team. Anyway,
that’s settled: you go, I go.”

“You win! Again! We’ll look at the satellite
photos tomorrow and devise a plan of attack. Now, you being the
fuckee, that must mean …”

“Forsooth, sire! I am a mere maiden unwise in
the ways of men!”

“Let me show you the ways.”

Il Castello di Bragno, Italy

Wednesday, August 15, 2001

6:32 A.M.

Syd met Sara in the large, country-style
kitchen at 6:32 A.M., only two minutes late. She had left Hatch
sleeping soundly in his bed and slipped through the secret door to
her chambers, where she dressed quickly in comfortable running
shoes and white shorts, and a Navy blue tank top over a sports bra
of the same color. Sara was dressed similarly, except her tank top
was a fire engine red. They both drank a glass of fresh orange
juice, then Sara led Syd down a long hall and out into a walled
courtyard. Five minutes later they were jogging along a well-used
path that wound around huge pine trees and scrub brush of various
kinds. The sound of their shoes hitting the ground was muffled by a
layer of pine needles that covered the path. They ran in silence
for a mile and then picked up the pace a bit.

“This feels good for a change,” said Syd,
breaking the silence.

“Yes, it does. You’ve got a smooth stride,”
answered Sara. “Run a lot with the Metsada guys?”

“Every chance I got. It takes more to gain
those guys’ respect and trust than just being a good shooter. I
should point out that some of those ‘guys’ were ‘gals.’”

“I know what you mean, though. It’s hard
being a woman in a man’s business,” observed Sara. “I’ve faced that
all my life. You have to keep proving yourself.”

After another half-mile through dense forest,
the path widened and several paths merged with it every quarter of
a mile or so. All of a sudden, eight men running two abreast came
out of a path on their right. They were all dressed in khaki tee
shirts and running shorts. The unit caught up with the women in
less than a minute.

“Yo, Major! I heard you were here!” said the
man on the left of the front duo. “How’s the arm?”

“Yo, Gunny! Arm’s getting better! Meet the
gal who bound it up and saved my life, Syd Steppe. Syd, this is
Gunny Lamper, the LL team leader here,” huffed Sara.

“Hi, Gunny,” Syd said, looking him over.

“Yo, Syd! We all owe you one for looking
after the major! Are you also the gal who nailed that sniper? Great
shooting!” said Gunny.

He turned his head and addressed the men
running with him, “Yo, people! This is Syd, the gal who drilled the
shooter asshole!”

They answered in unison, “Yo, Syd!”

They all ran for another quarter mile in
silence, then Gunny said to Sara, “Why don’t you come lift a brew
with us tonight—join the poker game? We’ll change it to strip poker
in your honor!”

“I might do that! I’d love to see all of you
bare-assed naked!” laughed Sara.

“We have other ideas!”

“In your dreams! You guys have never beat me
yet!”

“Then bring Syd along. Maybe she won’t cheat
like you do,” Gunny laughed.

“Well, I’m gonna head back, Gunny. I’ve
already exceeded my limit for the day. You want to go on for a
ways, Syd?” asked Sara.

“Yeah, I think I will. I’m in a groove. Gunny
can tell me how to get back to the castle,” replied Syd.

“OK. Take good care of her, Gunny, or I’ll
kick your fucking ass. See you later, Syd,” said Sara as she turned
and jogged back the way she had come.

Syd fell into an easy gait next to Gunny, who
asked her, “How far you gonna run, Syd?”

“I was planning on five or six, but I feel
good enough for a little more than that,” she replied.

“OK, I’ll lead you back to the castle a
different way than you came so you won’t get bored,” stated Gunny,
who then turned to the man on his right and added, “Sam, take ’em
home. I’ll see you later.”

Sam peeled off on a path to the right, his
strike team following. Gunny pointed to a path veering to the left,
and he and Syd took that path.

“This’ll be around eight miles total this
way. Too far?” Gunny asked.

“No, that should be fine. I’m feeling good so
far. How about you, though? How far have you already run?”

“Don’t worry about me, ma’am.”

“I assume you were a gunnery sergeant in your
previous life,” said Syd.

“You got it, ma’am. The major—Sara—recruited
me into this outfit when I got kicked out of the Marines. I
cold-cocked a lieutenant when he was trying to get my platoon
killed in Bosnia. I saved my platoon—and his ass as well—but the
Marines don’t tolerate sergeants slugging an officer.”

“How do you like this outfit?” she asked.

“Greatest outfit ever! I’m still Semper Fi
inside, but this is one crack unit. And the equipment is unreal!
Oops! I don’t know what I can tell you. You in the Liberators?”

Syd gave him a look and smiled. He was about
an inch taller than she was, but probably weighed in at close to
190 pounds. He was all muscle with thick shoulders, and sported a
Marine haircut. Tattoos covered both shoulders and his left biceps.
Syd guessed he was in his late thirties.

“No, but I am privy to some of Lincoln
Liberators’ information. I know about Shadow-4, if that’s what’s
bothering you. But I’m not in LRD. I’m just a friend of Hatch
Lincoln and Sara.” she replied.

“Mr. Lincoln is something else, isn’t he?
Gave a lot of us second chances when no one else would. You run
like a Recon Marine, ma’am. What’s your gig?”

“I’m a language professor at the University
of Miami,” she smiled.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

“’
Fraid not. How many of your team have
been helped out of bad situations by Sara and Hatch?”

“Most of us had problems of one kind or
another. This job helped us get our lives back together and still
do what we know best,” answered Gunny. “Where’d a college prof
learn to shoot a sniper rifle? I hear that shot was over 500
yards—and at night, too!”

“It’s a long story, Gunny. Besides, it was a
very lucky shot,” she said, side-stepping the question.

“Veer left at that next trail, Syd,” Gunny
advised.

Gunny Lamper did not think Syd was giving him
the full skinny on who she was, but he decided not to push it,
especially since she was close to Sara and the big boss. He liked
his job too much.

“Only a half mile to the castle, ma’am.
How’re you holdin’ up?” asked Gunny.

“Great! I haven’t been able to run for a few
days, so I thought I would be more winded, but I’m fine.”

“You’re in great shape, ma’am,” he
smiled.

She got his
double entendre
and smiled, also, accepting the
compliment with pleasure. She
was
in good shape! And had a pretty good shape for a woman thirty
three years old!

He added, “You comin’ to the poker game
tonight?”

“I’m a lousy poker player. I think I’ll pass.
Besides, I’ll be busy tonight,” she replied, thinking of Bocca and
his thugs.

The castle came into view as the forest
thinned.

“Thanks for the company and the escort,
Gunny,” she said.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” he said, and
disappeared back into the forest.

Another good man rescued by Hatch. Are all
of his people victims of various flaws in the system, and the
misfortunes of life? Gunny even hinted that most of his team were
rescuees. What a complex man Hatch is!

Gunny’s remarks started Syd thinking
about Hatch again: who was the man really? He had used the word
‘relationship’ last night, and she had assumed he meant ‘sexual
relationship,’ but could he have possibly meant something more? As
she assessed her view of their relationship, she realized that she
did not think of him as a super-rich man, a billionaire. Even
though his wealth was in evidence all around him—castles, mansions,
private jets, invisible helicopters, endless supply of money—he did
not wear his money ostentatiously on his sleeve. Maybe it was
because she had first met him in a violent situation—getting a
fleeting glimpse of Bob Hatcher in the process, she now
knew—instead of one associated with his wealth that she never
thought of her relationship with him as being related to his money.
He obviously had great compassion for the woes of others as
demonstrated by his employees whom she had met. She wondered about
the thousands of employees he must have: they all could not be
rescuees. The way he planned to deal with Bocca was another enigma:
a rich man could buy a horde of hit men to handle the situation,
but instead, Hatch was determined to handle it personally. He
obviously did not like to buy his way out of problems, or he would
not go on those dangerous Shadow missions, either. Then there was
the one-night-glimpse of Bob Kelly, song and dance man
par excellence
. She was sure she
knew things about his past, personal life, and business that no one
outside his companies knew—maybe some things very few insiders were
aware of. Did that have any importance? He said he trusted her, but
was he talking about Syd or Anna? She wondered, still
confused.

She got back to Hatch’s room in time for
their communal shower. She stopped analyzing their relationship and
treated herself—and Hatch—to a delicious morning ‘dally’ under the
spray of the warm water.

She dressed in a lime green halter dress—one
of her new outfits—and low sandals. She and Hatch went down for
some breakfast before they paid a visit to the wounded sniper.

• • •

After breakfast, Carmelo led Hatch, Sara, and
Syd down the long hallway, into the courtyard Syd had been in
earlier that morning, and out a different gate to where a blue Jeep
Grand Cherokee was waiting. Gunny was leaning against the hood
eating a banana.

“Yo, Gunny!” Sara greeted him.

“Yo, Major!” he replied.

The rest of the party greeted Gunny as they
piled into the Jeep. Gunny started the engine and drove down a
narrow road into the heart of the forest. It took about twenty
minutes to arrive at a large clearing which had a huge hangar with
a two-story building running along one side. The entire structure
was covered with camouflage paint.

“Colonel Coffer’s compound,” Hatch informed
Syd. “Shadow-4 is housed here as well as the Hostage Rescue Team
known by the call sign Lexus. Their sphere of influence is Europe
and the old USSR nations at times. Their last mission—the one Sara
mentioned—was back in June. It involved the rescue of the Orient
Express, if you can believe that.”

Syd thought of Mrs. C. talking about her
husband’s last ride on the Orient Express, but felt sure this was
about something else, so she asked, “You mean, like the train?”

“Yes, the real train. It was carrying a
large load of gold bullion on the Paris to Budapest run and six
German gunmen hijacked the train in an attempt to steal the gold.
They were
neutralized
, if I
may use that word again, by the Lexus team without the train ever
stopping. No civilians injured. It was quite a job!”

Thinking of the rescue in Cuba, Syd said, “I
can imagine how they did it, knowing what I know now. Still risky,
though!”

“Life
is
risky, ma’am,” interjected Gunny, remembering how his strike team
had been put on the roof of the moving train by
Shadow-4.