Knife (9780698185623) Read Free Page B

problems. They also avoided the limelight, never putting out videos or accepting interviews. No one knew who led the cell or the full structure of the network. Intel barely knew any of the major players.
    â€œSo we’re going to find them and hunt them down,” the BO said. He took a deep breath and paused. “If anything can roll down the damn street they’ll put a bomb in it. Even if it doesn’t have an engine, they’ll blow it. Bikes, donkeys, dogs, fruit stands. Fuck it, they’ll blow it.”
    He closed the file and looked around the room for a while, tapping his palm with the folder. “Bad fuckers, men.” He let the room get quiet and then he pointed the folder at them. “Well, now they’re fucked.”
    Shaw shook his head and the room laughed. The BO tried not to smile and walked out. He was slight and clean-shaven, with brown hair cropped close at his ears, temples, and neck. He walked without moving his head or neck much, a desk jockey with his time on the ground so far behind him he probably couldn’t remember what dirt on his boots felt like.
    Hagan leaned in to Shaw.
    â€œWhen’s he moving to the Pentagon?”
    â€œYou don’t move there, Hog. You get assigned. And I don’t know.”
    â€œHe spoke well.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou think he practiced that speech?”
    â€œWithout a doubt.”
    â€œYou think he’s jealous of us?” Hagan asked.
    â€œJealous how?”
    â€œI don’t know. Not kicking in doors anymore, sitting behind a computer all day.”
    Shaw looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “You jealous of his job?”
    â€œHell no. Maybe. Yes. Kind of. I don’t know. Dude drives a Lexus. He has a hot wife and doesn’t have to worry about Hajji throwing a barrel in his nuts and shooting his guts out. That’s not too bad.”
    â€œThen yeah,” Shaw said, and laughed. “I’d guess it’s probably mutual. He probably misses kicking in doors because he never will again and you think sitting behind a computer would be nice because we’ll never do it. He’s got his hot wife waiting for him at home and not just the Glock and bottle of Jack that’s waiting for us.”
    â€œDamn, that’s depressing.” Hagan narrowed his eyes and bit at his fingernails and then turned up his palm. “And I don’t have a Glock.”
    â€œNo, you don’t. But you can use mine,” Shaw said.
    â€œThanks. And I’m gonna have a hot wife. No doubt.”
    â€œOf course,” Shaw said, and the room cleared out.
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    T he teams had an hour to get all their gear together and onto the wooden pallets assembled on the hot concrete outside the pit. Rucks, hop bags, and TVs all went in. Shaw saw a couple footballs and a recliner, too. The Commanding Officer of one of the squadrons that didn’t get spun up was sitting in the recliner on top of one of the pallets. He was in his underwear, drinking a bottle of whiskey, and the top of his balding head was getting sunburned. His blond chest hairs gleamed in the light. He was whispering
Fuck you
to everyone as they put their bags in the pallets. It took only a few minutes to pack the pallets, so Shaw dropped his stuff in, received his
Fuck you
, and winked back at the CO and headed into the pit.
    Back inside, some of the younger guys were beating their chests, grabbing ass, and mouthing off, but it seemed forced. Most guys just sat together in circles quietly and didn’t say a whole lot while Walker, Beam, and Daniel’s made their way around in handles and fifths. They had at least twenty hours of flying ahead of them, so most guys took advantage of getting their last drink in for the next couple months. Once they got in-country they couldn’t even smell it. They were on a twenty-four-hour mission clock. When Shaw got back to his bay, Hagan was sitting on