The Plantation - By Chris Kuzneski Page 0,123

or something. This thing cut off my circulation within ten minutes, and I’ve been limping ever since.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch!” teased a familiar voice from the back of the car. His view was obstructed by a large stack of crates, but he knew exactly who he was listening to. “You were bitching when I first trained you, and you’re still bitching now. Haven’t you grown up yet?”

A grin appeared on Lieutenant Shell’s face. He removed his cap as a sign of respect and looked for his former commander. “I’ll be damned! What are you doing here?”

“Listening to you bitch! I thought I taught you to be tougher than that. Complaining about a cramp? Pathetic! Take two Midols and get back to work.”

The two men hugged briefly, a touching reunion between MANIACs past and present.

“It’s great to see you, sir. It really is. But I have to admit, ya look like shit! What happened?”

With scabs all over his face and body, Payne glanced at his left arm, dangling lifelessly in its sling. “This is what happens when you reach your mid-thirties. Your body starts to fall apart.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Jones interjected, moving from his hiding place on the other side of the boxcar. “He got into a disagreement with an exotic dancer, and she kicked his ass. Breast to the face . . . breast to the face . . . high heel to the nuts . . . knockout!”

Shell laughed like a little kid as he rushed to D.J.’s side. It had been a long time since they’d spoken, and the smiles on their faces revealed their love and admiration for one another. It was the type of bond that developed when two people had been through hell together—the type of stuff that the MANIACs were known for.

“How are you doing, Rocky?”

“Pretty damn good,” Shell declared. He hadn’t heard his nickname since Payne and Jones had left the squad. “But I’d like the right to change my opinion. I mean, if you guys are here, then something big is about to go down. Right?”

He looked at Jones, then Payne. He noticed anxiety in both sets of eyes, something that was atypical for them.

“Damn,” he groaned. “How big are we talking about?”

“Pretty big,” Payne admitted. He tried to smile to lessen the tension, but his effort was less than successful. “And quite personal.”

The comment piqued Shell’s interest. “Personal? As in, off-the-books personal? As in, the-government-doesn’t-know-we’re-here-but-who-gives-a-rat’s-ass-about-them-anyway personal?”

Payne nodded, looking forward to Shell’s response.

“Halle-fucking-lujah! Military missions are always so boring. It’s about time we got the old gang back together and had some fun!”

Jones nodded in agreement but wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic. “You’re right, it’s been way too long. But I don’t know if fun is the right word to describe this mission.”

“Oh, yeah?” Shell laughed, still not understanding the sensitive nature of the assignment. “Then what word would you use?”

Payne took a step forward, intensity returning to his face. It was a look that Shell had seen several times before. One that meant it was time for business. “The word I’d use is desperate.”

“Desperate?”

Payne nodded. “And once I tell you why I called you here, you’ll understand why.”

“You called us here?” Shell asked, dumbfounded. “How did you pull that off? Nobody’s supposed to know where we are, yet you somehow managed to track us down? Don’t get me wrong, it’s great to see ya, but that doesn’t make much sense to me.”

Captain Juan Sanchez, the MANIACs current leader, cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to make sense to you, as long as it makes sense to me.”

Shell sprang to attention. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Sanchez winked at Payne, his former team leader. “But since you’ll bitch the rest of the night if I don’t tell you, I’ll be a nice guy and let you in on the secret.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m all ears, sir.”

“As luck would have it, I stay in touch with Captain Payne on a regular basis, which is apparently more than you. He gave me a call and briefed me on his current situation. Soon after, I offered to give up our much-needed R & R in order to help. That is, of course, if it’s all right with you.”

“Once a MANIAC, always a MANIAC!” Shell shouted passionately.

“You’re damn right!” Sanchez growled. He quickly turned his attention from his second in command to the man he had served under for several years. “Captain Payne, at this time I would like to offer you control of the finest, fiercest fighting

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