Cliff's Edge Read Free Page A

Given the layout of the building, the four-by-four-foot bamboo cage housing Sergeant Rufus, and the encroaching jungle, it was the best he could get. His fire team partner Marco Adams—aka Mad Max—was twenty feet to his right, up to his balls in the same swampy shit, but with a less clear shot. He would take anyone Rhino missed. As if .
    After three days of recon, they’d selected their approach and moved in. Now it was only a matter of minutes…or maybe hours…but either way, the sergeant was going to be heading for home today. All Rhino needed was for the three guards to step through the door—to come clear, so no one took a death shot at Rufus.
    As if summoned, guard number three came into view, an automatic rifle slung over one shoulder. He was carrying a metal pie tin of whatever slop they were passing off as food to their prisoner. As he approached the cage, he shouted to the others inside. Rhino didn’t have a lot of the language, but enough to catch that the man was calling the others to join him. Something about Rufus’s condition made him unhappy, and he wanted an explanation.
    Looking straight through the scope at the man he now thought of as target one, Rhino, tightened his grip on his weapon, his finger just a whisper away from taking his shot. From the periphery of his vision, he watched and waited for the others.
    Step outside … step outside…
    Then the man next to the cage raised his weapon, turning it to point at Rufus, and they were out of time.
    Target acquired , Rhino thought as he pressed his finger to the trigger.
    Target down .
    Panning left, Rhino caught the second man in the throat as he raised his weapon. Number three was a fast little fucker. The man spun at the sound of gunfire, diving for the relative safety of the cinder block as he fired his gun in the direction of the swamp. Rhino caught him in the back of the shoulder and he went down hard, but still moving—for about twenty more seconds. To his right, Mad Max emerged from the swamp like some special effects movie monster. Rhino covered him all the way in, until he received the hand signal that said he was needed to help with Rufus.
    It took them less than three minutes to get the skeletal foul-smelling man from the cage, and into the water, heading for home.
     
    Eight hours later, Ryan leaned his head against the vibrating tin can of a transport plane, and closed his eyes. The doc would call him over soon enough, but he’d catch some shut-eye while they worked to stabilize Rufus. He and Marco had done what they could while running through the jungle, taking turns with the man draped over their shoulders. Had they known before the mission how bad his condition was, they might have tried to do things differently…but different took longer, and in this case…longer would have meant dead.
    Now, the only thing Ryan wanted was to survive the debrief and the ten days of decompression R and R with the team in Honolulu before they headed back to the unit. Something about this last mission had felt…sour. The trouble wasn’t with his team. They were the fucking best…like family. Maybe not quite as much like family as they used to be, but—maybe that was his problem. It just wasn’t as much fucking fun with Cliff on shore duty. He gave a little snort. Or maybe he was just pissy after finding a leech on his balls.
    “Goddamn bugs,” Marco said, digging at his calf. “I want a shower, a twenty-ounce medium rare T-bone from Chow House, and a tight ass riding my cock.”
    “All at the same time?” Ryan teased.
    “Nope. But in that fucking order. How about you?”
    “Sorry to break your heart again, Marco, but I keep telling you—I just don’t swing that way.”
    Marco snorted. “As good as. You and Snides are like an old married couple—no wait. I take that back. My parents have been married for thirty years and you two are nothing like them—you guys actually like each other.” Marco shifted on the bench, stretching his