Wild Hearts (Novella) Read Free

hours.
    “Gentlemen, thank you for your patience while we analyzed the implications of your last mission. Unfortunately, while you terminated four of the five targets, there are complications. We’ve been assessing the fallout, and we felt that keeping you isolated was the best course of action until we could determine how to handle this.”
    He tossed two Mexican newspapers onto the table. Risk didn’t have a chance to translate the headline; the pictures snagged his full attention. The one on top showed Gutterson, dead. Risk was pretty sure it had been taken right after he was hit. The otherphotos captured various moments during the takedown.
    “Jose Romero survived, though he sustained two bullet wounds. He’s accusing us of an unprovoked attack,” Stevens said.
    Julian, who could read Spanish, pointed to the words
Militares Americanos
. “How’d they know we’re American?”
    “And how did they get these pictures?” Rath asked.
    Risk recognized his profile in one shot, Salsa wielding his weapon in another, though the face paint pretty much obliterated any recognizable features. “What the hell?”
    Stevens tapped the newspaper. “The pictures came from security footage. I’m not sure how they recognized Gutterson, but they specified his name. They knew he was a SEAL because of his earlier work with them, and since we were in the region training, they put two and two together.”
    “The Wolf,” Rath said. “What the hell happened to him?”
    “He’s MIA,” another man said. “We figure he was found out. He’s either dead or in hiding. We’ve had no contact from him since the assault. Jose now suspects that he was there solely to feed us inside information.” Which was true in the end.
    “We have a real PR problem,” Stevens said. “El Martillo has been talking to the U.S. press as well.” The admiral tossed several more newspapers on the table, the standard American variety. The same pictures, though, thank God, only Gutterson’s name was exposed. Still, the sentiment was clear enough. WAS IT A ROGUE TEAM OF SEALS OR A MILITARY COVER-UP? one headline read. THE “ROGUE SIX” MURDER INNOCENT VICTIMS: ON THE TAKE FROM DRUG CARTELS? another one asked.
    “The ‘Rogue Six’?” Julian asked with a sneer. “They gave us a name, like they do with serial killers?”
    “Jose’s calling us terrorists, shouting to the world how America is in bed with drug cartels. It’s the whole ‘weapons of mass destruction’ debacle all over again. We have zero proof that they’re up to no good, other than our missing contact’s word and pictures of cocaine that can’t be materially connected to El Martillo. If we make public accusations, we’re essentially confessing to the raid. And we’ll have to admit to our own country that we’ve been covertly helping a violent regime.”
    “So we deny involvement. Gutterson was acting on his own,” Rath said. “Pretendto commiserate and all that good shit. And we find the Wolf. Because there’s something wonky about his part in this.”
    Risk had a real bad feeling. It was the same sick, churning feeling he got when his father sat him and his brothers down and told them their mother had been killed in a car accident.
    The admiral gave them all a long, sober look. “Our denials are starting to sound hollow. We’ve gone over all the potential strategies. There aren’t many. Waiting is not an option. Jose has threatened to retaliate if we don’t do something to make amends. Not only does he want a so-called gift of weapons or money, but he wants us to admit culpability. He’s hinted at harming American tourists in Mexico. We have to give them something.”
    “Like what?” Rath growled. “ ’Cause you ain’t sending my ass over there to be tried in some Mexican court. Sir,” he added.
    If Risk could have found a speck of humor, he would have laughed at their expressions.
    The admiral, used to dealing with SEALs, hardly blinked. “We’ve been in talks