The call came at six in the morning. Arch’s eyes snapped open and he pushed a button on the television remote, before tossing it aside in disgust. It took a few seconds for him …..
Arch rose at six a.m. on Monday morning. No phone call awakened him. The second day hangover, easing only slightly after the first brutal day, following his post-mission bender, had brought him unwillingly awake.
“So, what’s the point of this exercise, since it would appear we are not under attack by the hordes from hell?” David asked, as the Mercedes G-Wagon headed pell-mell along the surface of the winding asphalt road. He was cradling the lethal machine pistol…….
The six of them loaded onto the Marine Corps Osprey tilt-wing aircraft. This Marine form of military air, with the aircraft flying at about three hundred miles per hour and with one in-air refuel, would take longer than any commercial jet…..
“Doesn’t matter what you got,” the imitation Errol Flynn DEA agent said, standing behind the front desk. “Twenty thousand bucks down to take it for a spin. Otherwise, bring in a marine surveyor and check it out all you want for nuthin.”……
The cigarette boat wake-jumping incident could be ignored. Although how the DEA clowns knew where the team was staying was problematic.
4:00 a.m. slammed down like a guillotine blade; bringing Arch’s eyes open to full wideness with a jerk, his head swinging up off his pillow to stare at the now open bedroom door. The door swung back toward the frame. It had been the sound of the old solid wood slab hitting drywall