paused and took off his aviators and got right in Mercer’s face. “What you did in Peshawar, that was something else. Mr. Crenshaw was a patriot, a family man.”
Mercer got himself into a sitting position and glared back at Worley. “I’ve killed a lot of family men, mostly on your orders. Killed their families too.”
“Civilian pacification is an aspect of war as old as war itself, Captain. It’s gotta get done from time to time. Like mowing the lawn.”
“You’re a sick fuck.”
Well, thought Brodie, this was a hell of a reunion, and he had a bad feeling about how it was going to end. He reiterated, “Time to go.”
Worley looked at Brodie. “I don’t think he wants to go home, Mr. Brodie.” He stood and motioned toward the Otter, where two men were coming around the aircraft from the right-hand door. As they cleared the plane, Brodie could see that they were wearing boots, jeans, and camo shirts. They looked Hispanic, and they were both carrying AK-47s.
The men positioned themselves well behind the tail of the aircraft, so that if there was any gunfire, the Otter wouldn’t be hit.
Brodie had the feeling that the two men were not there to provide security. He said to Worley, “What’s happening, Brendan?”
“Well, what’s happening, Scott, is you’ve got my first name wrong. It’s not Brendan. It’s Colonel.”
“Yes, sir.” He added, “You’re still an asshole.”
“And you’re insubordinate.” He looked at Taylor. “I had hoped you could pull the reins in on your partner. Save him from himself.”
Taylor did not reply, but looked Worley in the eyes.
Worley told her, “Trent sends his regards.”
“Trent can go to hell.”
“I’ll pass on your final words to him.”
Brodie was keeping an eye on the two so-called security guys, a.k.a. hit men. They were about fifty feet away, within effective range of the Desert Eagle, but only if they remained stationary targets, which they would not. Also, they were armed with the six-hundred-round-a-minute Russian lawn mower. Should he be concerned? Probably.
Brodie said to Worley, “Is there any good reason we’re standing here?”
Worley replied, “There’s no reason either of you should be standing.”
Well, they could keep standing there exchanging veiled threats and double entendres all afternoon, and Worley seemed to be enjoying himself. And maybe he had more he wanted to learn from Brodie and Taylor before he did what he was going to do.
Worley pulled his gun and aimed it at Brodie. “Sorry, Mr. Brodie, but this won’t be a full flight.”
Apparently there was nothing more that Brendan Worley wanted to hear from them.
Brodie’s first thought was to cut the head off the snake, but it was too late for him to go for his gun, though he hoped Taylor did.
Then everything happened quickly, though it seemed like slow motion.
Mercer, still on the ground, kicked out his feet and knocked Worley off balance, allowing Brodie to pull his gun from the small of his back and fire three shots in quick succession at Worley, who seemed surprised to see the gun. Then Brodie dove to the ground behind Worley’s still-moving body as a stream of red tracer rounds from one of the AKs sailed over his head.
Taylor was already on the ground returning fire as Brodie also pumped rounds downrange, using Worley’s body for cover, then Worley’s pistol when his ran out of ammunition.
The Otter pilot, who hadn’t signed on for any of this, started moving his aircraft down the runway, and the two AK guys began running after it, leaving the gringos to work out their problems. One guy caught up to the Otter on the right side and disappeared into the plane. The second guy jumped into the open cabin door on the pilot’s side as the Otter gained speed, and Brodie thought he’d seen the last of them, but then the guy braced himself in the open doorway and fired a long line of tracers. A few hit the dirt in front of them and the rest hit Kyle Mercer, whose body lurched with every hit, as Brodie was splashed with blood.
The Otter picked up speed and now—one passenger lighter—it lifted easily off the ground and sailed over the trees at the end of the runway.
Brodie got to one knee and looked at Taylor, still on the ground. “You okay?”
“Yeah…”
Brodie stood, went over and took her hand, and helped her up.
She started to say something, then noticed Mercer and hurried over to him. Taylor knelt beside Mercer and stared at his blood-soaked body.