took Hightower over closer to the map, and they looked at it together. Then they stepped away, into the misty field, out of earshot of the others.
Court asked, “What do you think about the tactical equation?” He deferred to almost no one on close-quarters battle tactics, but Zack Hightower had been his team leader in the Goon Squad, and if there was one person with more knowledge than Court on team tactics, it was Hightower.
Zack looked up at the rain. “What do I think about the tactical equation? The tactical equation is a big fat bag of dicks. Jenner’s absolutely right about that.”
“Are you going to tell Brewer what you think?”
Zack shrugged. “Nah. We got this. These are Mafia goons. It’s not like we’re up against Spetsnaz.”
Court didn’t know who, in fact, was there at Zakharov’s staging location, but Zack had a point. So far all the foot soldiers in this operation they’d encountered had been London-based Russian mob gangsters. Dangerous, to be sure, but no match for Special Activities Division paramilitaries.
Still, he didn’t mask his concern.
Zack saw Court’s reticence and slapped him on the shoulder. “Go big or go home, bro.”
“I can go home? Cool.”
“It’s a figure of speech, Six. You’re in this shit till the end.”
“Well, then, I guess I’ll just get on the helicopter and fly into certain death.”
“That’s the spirit!”
They stepped back into the group of men in time for them to hear Brewer say, “Violator and Romantic will be folded into your team and assault alongside you.”
Jenner replied, “I’d be willing to take Hightower along for the ride, as long as he remembers to let the younger guys take the lead.” He looked to Court. “But I don’t trust Gentry. He tends to do his own thing, and that shit won’t fly on my team. Plus . . . look at him. He’s a wreck. I don’t need a wounded man watching my back.”
Court didn’t say anything, but Hightower stood up for him. “Six is solid. He was my door kicker for years.”
Jenner just rolled his eyes. “And then he fucking shot you, Zack!”
“Dude, it’s cool. We hugged it out. Didn’t we, Six?”
Jenner just pointed to Court with a gloved finger. “That goofy head case is not riding on my team.”
Brewer wasn’t officially in charge of the Ground Branch team, but she had cards to play to exert her authority. She said, “Jenner . . . I’ll call Matt Hanley, right now. There isn’t anyone at the Agency that has more respect for Violator than Hanley does.” She looked off a moment into the mist. “Believe me, I deal with the unfortunate fallout of that fact every damn day.” Looking back his way, she said, “You really think he’s going to take your side?”
Jenner held firm. “Call him.”
Brewer did call Hanley, and five minutes later Court was kitting up with Hightower and the rest of Jenner’s team. He was on the mission, broken hand and all.
Jenner strapped himself into his body armor while he stood next to Gentry. He was pissed, but compliant, because there was no way to go against the wishes of the deputy director of Operations. He said, “Okay, Violator. Listen up. I want you squared away. I want you where I can see you at all times. In fact, you take the Number One.”
The Number One was the first through the door after a breach. It was the most dangerous position in the flow.
“What was that about having the younger guys take the lead?” Court retorted.
Jenner said, “Everybody says you’re such hot shit, I wanna see your ass in action.”
Zack leaned forward to Jenner now. “Hey, boss. Why don’t you slap a GoPro on your helmet? You’re gonna want to film this shit once Sierra Six starts doing his thing.”
Jenner just rolled his eyes and fastened the cummerbund of his body armor tightly around him.
Court took an HK416 short-barreled rifle offered to him by one of the Ground Branch men, slung it across his chest, and yanked the sling strap tight. The rifle cinched up to his body, pointing down. He worried about the recoil his left hand would endure wielding the weapon, but the .223 caliber wasn’t particularly powerful, so he told himself he could manage the pain. He climbed aboard the high-tech-looking helicopter, keeping his mummified hand close to his chest so he didn’t bang it on anything while finding a seat amid the equipment there.
Chris Travers boarded behind him. He extended a gloved hand. “Hey, brother. How you