Savage Son (James Reece #3) - Jack Carr Page 0,107

pipe. As the fire from the wooden match illuminated his silhouette through the glass, the knives came out. They were upon her. Oliver could see the three bodies mix together in a violent clash for survival and caught the glint of a blade reflect off a streetlight.

His breathing rate increased with the excitement of his voyeuristic encounter. He might not be able to lead men into battle, but he’d proven adroit at hiring low-level criminals to ambush the unsuspecting. He’d done it long ago in Buenos Aires.

Observing the primal dance taking place on the gloomy street, he felt a now-familiar rise against the fabric of his trousers.

His hand found its way past his belt and into his pants. One stroke and his knees shuddered as he leaned into the wall for support, almost dropping his pipe as his body spasmed.

Regaining his composure, he watched as a black Mercedes sedan pulled up to the curb. The lookouts had joined the knife men and all four squeezed into the German import before it sped away.

Oliver thought of the life slipping out of his matronly assistant, her blood running into the gutters of the old city. Straightening himself up, he set his pipe on his desk and went to the bathroom to clean up.

CHAPTER 62

Glacier Park International Airport, Kalispell, Montana

REECE GAZED OUT THE window as the jet rolled to a stop. There, waiting on the tarmac and leaning against a two-tone early-nineties F-250, was Elias Malick. Jonathan had emailed Reece in flight to let him know the team was assembled and would be waiting on him.

Liz opened the door from the cockpit.

“We have to do some post-flight and get ready for tomorrow. Eli is out there waiting to take you and the gear to the ranch. I’ll be about an hour behind you.”

Reece descended the steps and approached his longtime friend.

“What’s up, Kahuna?” the larger man asked. People often assumed Eli was from Hawaii due to his dark skin, affinity for all activities water related, and fondness for inserting words from the ancient Polynesian language into everyday speech. He had an aptitude for language and picked up a few words during his time attached to SDV-1 on Ford Island. Few knew his patriotism and devotion to country really stemmed from his family’s escape from their native Lebanon in 1981 to his mother’s home country of Sweden and eventually on to the United States.

Eli’s early years were spent just northeast of Beirut. He remembered the pine and cedar trees, eating pine nuts while watching the deer, squirrels, and rabbits, and even his introduction to skiing not far from his home. As Maronite Christians, those memories faded to recollections of his father and uncles picking up rifles and leaving to defend their enclave while the Lebanese Civil War destroyed what had been called the “Switzerland of the East.” With the dawn of the 1980s, the writing was on the wall; the old Lebanon was gone. It was time to leave. As they made their way to the airport, passing roadblocks in the uncertainty of a new decade, he remembered his mother telling him, “be strong, my ‘lilla kri gare.’ ” My little warrior. Fluent in Arabic, Lebanese Arabic, Swedish, French, and English, and with the features of a Swedish mother and Lebanese father, Eli could pass as a “local” almost anywhere on earth, a trait that would make him a valuable asset to the U.S. military following 9/11.

The two embraced in a hug Reece thought might squeeze the life out of him.

“Thanks for being here, brother. How’s the family?”

“Jules and the kids are a little unsure what to do this far from the water, but they’re adapting. I want them to live the mountain life for a few years while I help Raife stand up his Warrior/Guardian program. Then we’ll probably head back to Cali or the islands. There are a couple business opportunities in the CBD space that I think can really help some of the guys struggling back at the command.”

Eli had dropped out of college to serve his country at a time when the Navy needed corpsmen. With the recruiter’s promise of a slot at BUD/S “just as soon as you finish corps school,” Eli dove headfirst into the world of combat medicine. First assigned to the 1st Marine Division at Camp Pendleton, California, Eli found that getting to BUD/S once you were in the system was a difficult proposition. He also found he had a propensity for taking care of those in