Kenya
One Month Later
“I’m still pissed that we left without the Scythian all wrapped up for HQ in a neat little camo bow,” Slater said.
Donnie agreed. “At least we’ve made progress and trained up a generous contingent of indigenous forces. If the phantom Horse Lord steps back onto Ethiopian soil, the welcome committee is ready.”
Johnny glanced at his two weary comrades as he drove. He’d been away from Lizzy for a month and it felt good to be back in Nairobi. He couldn’t wait to surprise her—he couldn’t wait to catch up on sleep. Four weeks of hunting, then training the local military took its toll. The Scythian had slipped out of their grasp, rumored to be back over the border in Somalia. MIT2 wouldn’t give up and awaited more intel. In the meantime, Max had taken the red-eye out of Addis Ababa to Fort Bragg in California, with meetings lined up with MIT’s base of operations. Then he’d be flying into Salt Lake City to check on Abby, who’d been placed on bedrest after unusual spotting and cramps. In six days’ time, Max would be back with his unit and they’d all be flying back to arid-ass Somalia.
“Well, I’m pissed. Sorry I can’t be as laid back as you and Johnny when it comes to Lord Fuckwat.” Slater yawned. “I want to liberate that roaming sicko from his precious scalp collection with one smooth pull on the trigger.”
Johnny thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Screw laid back. I’m with you, bud.”
They drove in silence, frustration and exhaustion warring for space among the three operators.
“How long until we arrive?” Donnie asked, staring out at the passing savannah.
“Ten minutes. It’s down the sand road up ahead, two clicks out.”
Slater and Donnie had jumped at the chance of helping out at the orphanage and were eager to meet the kids.
Johnny’s eagerness was all twisted up in Lizzy. He hadn’t seen her in a whole month. As soon as they’d landed back in Kenya, the men had showered and packed the truck with supplies, before cruising westwards towards Teens & Tots.
“Excited to see your girl?”
“Hell, yeah. I missed the shit out of her. Now I can formally introduce you guys.”
That concept felt weird. Donnie and Slater probably knew Lizzy better than she knew herself—through the hours of surveillance they’d performed in South Africa.
“Is she still as excitable as she was back in Johannesburg?” Donnie asked.
“As in ‘happy’ excitable? No. She’s matured some since living in Kenya. But she’s still restless and wanders through life in a dreamy haze. It’s sweet but hella frustrating at times.”
Eight minutes later they pulled into the dusty lot. “I’ll show you around before we get started.” Johnny led them up a side path and paused.
Donnie immediately picked up on his tension. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s too quiet. It’s supposed to be the morning tea break. The children are usually racing around—playing soccer.”
“Maybe they’ve changed the schedule?”
“No. Something feels off.”
“Let’s split up. Talk us through the layout.”
His buddies trusted him, and Johnny felt a spurt of gratitude. The three men had worked together for so many years in the field that their finely-honed instincts were in sync. Urgency screamed for Johnny to assess the surroundings and figure out what felt off-kilter.
They were all armed with pistols but were short of radio comms. Sign language would have to do. After a quick huddle, Slater circled round, as the thick bush to the left absorbed Donnie’s agile form.
Easing forward, Johnny strained—listening for sound. Sweat dampened his brow as he sidled around a roughened wall.
Noting the empty classrooms, he crept to the courtyard at the far end where he’d heard raised voices. It housed a smaller playground with a couple of swings.
A glance around the corner revealed an armed man waving a long knife in the air. Another comrade stood next to him, shouting in Swahili. Resituating himself, Johnny surveyed the threat. Lizzy stood trapped—centered before the two men—with rusty swings and a wall at her back. She sheltered a small boy who clutched the back of her shirt. Esther corralled the rest of the children, shuffling them towards the canteen.
Sidestepping, Lizzy tried to escape the enclosed space, and the armed target stepped closer.
Johnny swore as Donnie sidled up from the opposite end of the courtyard. The soldiers communicated silently. Donnie would take on the unarmed perp and Johnny would deal with the armed asshole. He sized up the target. Judging by the frantic wielding of the butcher’s knife and his stance, the local man was untrained and only weighed perhaps 140 pounds. Lizzy spoke to him quietly, and he pointed at the young child with the knife. She shook her head, shielding the youngster.
Johnny readied himself as the man screamed in fury. Three…two… A third man ran onto the playground, his arms waving frantically. The stethoscope dangling around his neck indicated this was the clinic’s doctor. Shit. That’s all they needed—more civilians in the mix.
The doctor foolishly strutted towards the perp, and the knife snaked out and barely missed the idiot’s carotid artery.
He stumbled back but still stood his ground, stepping between Lizzy and the angry men. Johnny was already moving. The MIT team slid in from all sides like raptors. Johnny’s entire focus was on that knife, and he grabbed the skinny arm, quickly twisting the blade out of its desperate trajectory. A painful shout to the right meant that Donnie had done his job well. Red dust clouded as Johnny slammed the bastard into the ground. The guttural whoosh indicated a severe winding. The perp gasped as Johnny rolled him over, restraining his wrists with the plastic cuffs stuffed in his pocket.
Rage at the threat to his woman had Johnny craving a beatdown. He could easily pound the man to mince, but the look on Lizzy’s face stopped him. Slater stepped up beside her, checking for injury. They were safe. Esther came running and Lizzy told her to take the scared kid inside.
The bastard whined beneath Johnny’s knee and then began wailing. Completing a pat-down, Johnny dragged him to his knees.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Lizzy said, stepping forward.
“Restraining the son of a bitch isn’t hurting him. He just tried to kill you.”
“He was desperate—with good reason.”
“What the hell?” Slater stared at her with as much astonishment as Johnny felt.
Astonishment morphed into hot jealousy as the doctor put his arm around her. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You’re trembling.”
“That was brave of you—leaping in like that. Thank you.”
“Anytime. I was wrapping up surgery when I heard the shouts. I came as fast as I could.”
The three operators watched, fascinated by the friendly interaction, and not knowing how to take it.
When the perp groaned, Johnny eased up, choosing to ignore the British doctor. “Slater, call the local police.”
“No, don’t,” Lizzy said, talking quickly. “His name’s Alfred; he came looking for his nephew. Omondi the only family he has, but Alfred was refused custody. He wants to put Omondi to work in his factory, but the child is way too young, only seven years old. Alfred’s grown confused and frustrated with the court system, so he came for the child. He doesn’t understand how it all works.”
“Threatening the staff with a knife? I think he understands well enough that what he’s doing is unlawful,” Donnie said quietly.
“Did you break his arm?” The English quack knelt.
“It’s just a sprain,” Johnny said.
“Well, it looked like you almost bloody twisted it off.”
“I could’ve let him gut you instead. I haven’t seen you before—at the clinic.”
“This is Doctor Garrison Bankes.” Lizzy tried to smooth things over. “He works with Amity Aidcor. Teens & Tots is lucky to have him on loan for three months.”
Amity Aidcor was a famine response program that did good work in drought-stricken regions across the globe. MIT2 had crossed paths with a couple of their aid camps in the past. Their medical teams were solid.
Garrison Bankes stood and glared at Johnny. “Bring him to the clinic. I want to look at that wrist, and I could ask you the same question. Who the hell are you people?”
Again, Lizzy jumped in. “They’re upgrading security on the property.”
She’d just introduced him as a security guard…and hadn’t yet touched him, not even a hello kiss. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Johnny handed the restrained package over to Slater, planning to walk to the truck and calm the hell down. A swanky English accent cut through his funk, first directing Slater and Donnie to the clinic with their prisoners and then addressing Lizzy’s statement.
“We don’t need an upgrade. Esther’s husband will be returning shortly, and I stay on the property at night.”
Johnny couldn’t resist engaging. “Yeah? What happens in a couple of months when you’ve moved on, or what if a gang of militants enters the property with AK-47s?”
“That’s an exaggeration.” The doctor dusted off his knees.
“Why would they want to target an out-of-the-way orphanage?” Lizzy asked.
“Seems like a ripe target to me. The past five years mall attacks, roadside bombings and beheadings have become commonplace occurrences in East Africa.”
Bankes stood with his hands on his hips. “What is a fence and some cameras going to do.”
Johnny’s response held impatience. “They’ll give you some warning. A delayed entry gives a team like mine—or the police—a heads-up.”
“And if you’re out of country bullying some other poor locals?”
This little twit was going to be a cramp in his side. Folding his arms, Johnny glared. “What exactly is the problem here? How does this setup offend you? Are you anti-violence? Anti-gun? Anti-military? Or all of the above?”
“Violence doesn’t solve problems.”
“It solved this one.”
“All this additional security and posturing is not good for the children’s psyche. They’ve seen enough terror in their young lives, and don’t need to live in an armed prison. My role is to ensure that the youngsters are healthy and happy—”
“And safe,” Johnny added.
Esther stood to the side and looked uncertain. Johnny turned to her. “This is your property, no one else’s. What do you want us to do?”
“Maybe install a couple of cameras to start? And if you could look at the back fence.”
Johnny nodded. “I’ll send Donnie over to the office to start on the security equipment.”
After an awkward walk to the clinic and the arrival of two police officers, Lizzy turned to leave. “I’m taking the older children for a walk. I need air.”
On closer inspection, she looked tired. That made two of them, in addition to his green-eyed annoyance at her budding relationship with the damn doctor.
“I’ll come along,” Johnny volunteered.
She lifted her chin. “We’ll do just fine on our own.”
“Well, I’m coming.” Slater pushed off the wall. “I want to meet the kids, plus the more, the merrier, right?”
Lizzy grumbled to herself as Slater trailed along, and after a moment’s hesitation, Johnny fell in behind.
***
Lizzy concentrated on the rocky path ahead, ignoring the unyielding brute trailing at her back. John chatted easily with some of the older kids, yet she knew from his stiff gait that he was angry with her. Slater walked up ahead and slowed, turning back to shoot her a lazy grin.
Drat, she wasn’t much up for conversation. She stared up the path at a fellow volunteer pointing out a random bird to the children, who gathered up ahead. The guy was a bird-watching guru. He yammered on for hours about weavers and hornbills. It bored the bejeezus out of her. Plus, she needed to pee for like the twentieth time that day; her bladder felt like it was about to burst. She glanced sideways at the demigod ambling beside her. Slater was a lethal Lamborghini as opposed to John—an imposing Ford F650 truck.
“We haven’t officially been introduced. I’m guessing you know who I am.”
“Ditto,” Lizzy muttered.
“Let me guess, you met Dr. Garrison Bankes on P*******t? You followed his board ‘Hug a terrorist for a day.’”
“I’ve heard you’re the funny one—in your tough little rat pack.”
“You mean wolfpack, sweetheart, and Johnny is just looking out for the little tykes. His heart is in the right place.”
“I know.” Lizzy tugged a leaf off a passing tree.
“Then why are you so hard on the friendly giant? He saved your cute derrière back there, and that’s not the first time. Third time if I’m not mistaken.”
She tore the leaf into pieces. “He makes me mad, that’s all.”
“Teens & Tots is well run, but it’s not secure. Trust us to protect the little ankle biters.”
“Please don’t make the place look like a Nazi camp. Garrison has a valid point. There needs to be a balance—”
“It’s Garrison now?”
“He’s just a friend. Is that why John’s so mad? He’s jealous?”
Slater swiped at a fly. “Sweetheart, we’ve had a long month and a long-ass day. We were up at one in the damn morning and traveled through hostile territory, and rough terrain for three hours before arriving at the airport. Then it was a four-hour flight to Kenya. As soon as the wheels touched down, all Johnny could think of was seeing you. The man is beyond exhausted, and then he runs into a psychotic asshole threatening to stick you with a knife.”
“Is that your way of telling me to apologize?” They edged down a narrow path.
“Hug the barbarian, that’s all I’m saying. He missed you.”
“I missed him too.” Lizzy grinned sideways. “Thanks for the ass kicking.” She nudged Slater, and he elbowed her back. She flew into a thorny bush.
Slater swore as he lunged to pull her out. “Shit, you’re a light little thing. God, I’m so sorry.”
John shoved him out the way. “What the hell, man!”
Aside from landing on her pride, Lizzy felt okay, a couple of scratches never hurt anyone. The teenagers giggled, and Lizzy chuckled back as John pulled her to her feet. Continuing the momentum, she fell into his strapping arms and looked up.
“Hi.” She smiled, before balancing on his boots on her tippy-toes.
“Hi back. Are you all right?” He pulled a twig from her hair.
“Never better. Thank you for rescuing my ungrateful ass today. I’ve missed you.”
The kids whistled as he lifted her and crushed her mouth to his.
“Break it up. This is a PG-rated walk—canoodling around rug rats is not allowed.” Slater obviously never quit and Lizzy grinned into John’s mouth. Only once the rabble had moved on—and after a thorough hello kiss—did he lower her to the ground. “Up for some more bird watching?”
“Gosh darn it, shoot me now. Nope, I need to pee. Jay Jay, find me a quiet bush and guard my bare ass.”
Two days of hard grafting and the fence was up with cameras installed. They’d even set up a basic alarm system that alerted the staff to intruders on the property.Lizzy invited the men back to her place for dinner and left the orphanage early to dash home to cook a delicious roast. As the food simmered away, she slipped into the shower. Soaping up, she let out a loud shriek when firm hands wrapped around her waist.“James Johnny Cane! Do you want me to keel over from fright?”Already naked, he twisted her around and shoved her against the tiles. “That’s what happens when you give your ‘friend’ a key to your apartment. Now don’t move. I need to get clean and then please my woman.” He wrenched the soap bar from her hand. He’d already sheathed himself in a condom and she ran her eyes over the very male picture he made.“I’m not your woman.”“At this moment, you’
The sofa wasn’t large enough for the mighty chaperone spread across its awkward cushions. Lizzy sat down wearily on an armrest and watched John sleep.When they’d first arrived, he’d offered his help. As a medic, he was more than qualified, but Garrison refused the offer. John didn’t argue, instead situating himself in the front room.At three in the darn morning, they were finally done. It looked like the family had viral stomach flu—a norovirus—and after a round of IVs and anti-nausea meds, they all slept like babes.All that time, John waited patiently, the diligent soldier always guarding her back. Why her? She didn’t deserve his loyalty, still kicking him in the nuts when she should be thanking him.She’d worried that if John ever found out about her past with Ivan, he’d treat her as carefully as her family did. But nope. He never tiptoed around her. John attacked life like a sledgehammer. He neve
She had a bladder the size of a peanut. Lizzy slammed out of the aircraft lavatory. Her phone buzzed again for the fifth time and she slipped it out of the apron pocket to glance at the screen. John had sure meant it when he’d said to keep her phone nearby. Two missed calls and five texts from the man. She should just switch it off and place it in her damn carry-on.He seemed concerned over her insistence on working the flight. She knew he was right to be worried. She felt like dog poop. As soon as she landed in Johannesburg, she’d see the family doctor.Talking to John was out of the question. He wanted space, well now he had it, and it would probably be a long time until she saw him again. With her packed flight schedule ahead and his covert work, they probably wouldn’t see each other for months.It was better that way. It gave her time to mourn the loss of their budding relationship and to get back to earning a living. She’d bid for mo
As Max pulled up, Johnny jerked open the door and surged out. He ran for the already cordoned entrance. Slater and Donnie dragged him back as Max dug in from the front. Johnny was living a nightmare.“Don’t touch me. Don’t. I was just with her. Yesterday, I held her. She was alive, and I just spoke with her, a few minutes ago. I heard her voice.”“I know, bro. Stay with the vehicle; Slater will hang with you. You hear me, bud?”Johnny struggled and stared at the pathetic array of flashing lights lining the entrance. With no integrated emergency services and a lack of resources, many incidents in Kenya had poor response times. Lack of specific training of emergency personnel, poor coordination, and a lack of standard operating procedures were invariable challenges when it came to militant attacks. They’d all arrived too late.“I need to see her.”“I can’t let that happen.”
Thanks for my boots, bro.” Johnny pulled on clean socks and grabbed a scuffed Magnum boot.Donnie placed a heavy duffel bag down carefully. “No problem. I had to swing by to grab our equipment. We’re now fully prepped, the rest is in the truck.” Donnie glanced around the workroom. “How many of these amigos have bigger egos than MIT2? What do you reckon? Think we’re still top dog?”There was a mother-load of brass and bluster sandwiched in the walls of the newly set up base of operations. That was what happened when the most infamous terrorist on the planet kidnapped an American diplomat’s son.The British contingent was gathered around a laptop in the far corner. SBS boys and possibly Scotland Yard. The majority of the Americans worked for the United States Special Operations Command. The CIA made their presence known, and Task Force Green—known to civilians as Delta Force—stood near the back. All the G
The nausea was back, and so was the fever. Lizzy shifted on the metal floor of the van, trying to get comfortable. Her side and back ached, over and above the throbbing muscles in her shoulders from the brutal angle of her arms, restrained with electrical tape. Try as she might, she couldn’t stay awake, instead drifting in and out of a delirious fog.“Do you think they’ll leave us here to bake? How long has it been?” the kid asked with a raspy voice. He’d cried over his mother’s death for most of the journey.“Hell, if I know. It has to be at least a hundred degrees in this metal box,” Captain Stuart said, before banging his feet against the panel door. “Hey! We’re cooking in here!”Was it hot? Lizzy couldn’t stop shivering. The captain yelled in frustration, and she studied his profile. They’d beaten him pretty badly when he’d kicked out at one of the mercenaries who’d gro
A key turned in a lock, and Lizzy surfaced from her demented dreams. She lay on a filthy pile of hay in the corner of a caged cellar—still a hostage.The other two prisoners huddled in their respective corners. She needed to check on them but could barely roll over. And she needed to pee. The makeshift latrine in the corner was a rusty cistern that sat low to the ground. She’d been avoiding the foul vessel and decided to lie back and avoid it a while longer.Her ill health drowned out most of the gut-swilling fear. Two monsters stalked her; one was a fiery hooded villain, and the other, a fiery fever running through her body. Both craved her demise. Lizzy ignored those rabid beasts chewing at her weak defenses, instead her mind flitted back to a sacred moment shared with John, the night before her life had literally gone down the toilet.Returning from the orphanage after she’d treated the sick family, they’d stripped down for a quick sho
Johnny didn’t take his eyes off the local Tanzanian kid and his grandfather, who Max was questioning in Swahili. They sat in a quiet corner as the rest of the task force watched surreptitiously from a distance.If this didn’t go anywhere, Johnny would lose it. With no other leads to rely on, this little boy was their only hope. The child answered with firm replies as the grandfather patted his shoulder.Max finally stood and walked over.“It looks like a legit lead. There’s a derelict airstrip, five clicks west of here. They live nearby; even though his grandfather has warned him against it, the kid likes to play in the abandoned hangars on occasion. He stopped by on his way home from the store and saw a light aircraft landing on the runway. He also saw five men loading the plane with their human cargo.” Max turned to the ambassador and Johnny. “Two males and one female hostage. The child remembers Lizette Steyn’s hair.
Make sure to check out “Fire in the Knight,” book three of the Mobile Intelligence Series. Find out what happens to Charlotte Quinn and Donnie Wilson!Saint Julian’s, MaltaWith no sign of potential witnesses in the hall, the man pulled the apartment door shut with a soft click. He adjusted his hoodie and ran down the steps before stepping onto the damp pavement. The sun had set and on a wet November night in Malta, the streets surrounding Spinola Bay were practically deserted.It was time to settle in and wait. The mark—Joseph da Silva—had only just sat down for dinner at one of the nearby restaurants. It would be at least an hour before he returned to his rental villa facing the water.With quick and efficient movements, the assassin made his way to the docked speedboat. Villas and hotels pressed together around the inlet, stacked like LEGOs around the small cove. He ignore
WyomingThree weeks laterRay huffed out a snore as she rolled over to her side on the wooden porch. Scratching her velvety neck with his foot, Johnny took a swig of beer. The setting sun provided the perfect backdrop to Lizzy’s sweet profile as she strummed softly on her guitar.She paused, then swore. “Gosh, dang it.”“The finger again?”“Or lack thereof.”“Don’t push it. Give it time.”Lizzy stuck out her tongue, and Johnny grinned. She made a pretty picture, sitting cross-legged on the rocking chair with her hair twisted in a cute bun at the nape of her neck. Not quite long enough, tendrils fell around her face, dancing in the autumn breeze. Back to her normal weight with flushed cheeks—an outside observer would never guess at the trauma she’d experienced just a couple of months before. Dragging his chair closer, Johnny leaned i
John kept to his word. Two days later and he was ready to be checked out of the hospital. Lizzy giggled as he waddled over to the bathroom. The back of his gown left little to her imagination.“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny. You’d think they’d have a larger gown for taller patients.”“I don’t think it’s your height, baby.” Lizzy laughed. “You look like the incredible hulk, hulking out of teeny human clothes.”Donnie walked in, grinning at John’s bare ass. “And the beard gives him a yeti vibe.”“I need clean clothes.”Lizzy spent a day in the ward, under observation. Charlie was kind enough to bring Lizzy a change of clothes the day before, but she’d mistakenly packed an old pair of John’s pants that no longer fitted around his muscled waist.“Relax, big man. I have your lumberjack clothing ready and waiting.”&ld
Swiping at her mud-caked vision, Lizzy stumbled through the fence towards Charlie’s barn. When she’d flown off the porch steps, her immediate relief at seeing the deputy running towards her turned to horror when Muller’s bullet sliced through the man’s neck.Lizzy veered, then stumbled as a second one zipped past her cheek.Instead of heading for the road, she zigzagged across the field towards farm outbuildings that could provide cover. Her feet slipped, and she went down in the sloppy mud. Scrambling for purchase, she staggered towards the tree line before spotting the wooden barn. This time, tree bark shattered to the left of her, and she swung right, not daring to glance back.The farm was a ghost town. Charlie and her foreman were up at the hospital for her father’s third heart surgery. The rest of the staff had left early to set up a food stall at the Sunday farmer’s market in town. Still, a farm hand popped out from beh
“The storm could’ve damaged the phone lines,” Donnie yelled over the thrumming blades. Max ignored the logic, knowing in his gut that his family was in trouble and Johnny was either disabled or dead.His teammate should’ve made mincemeat out of Muller’s slimy ass and contacted Max by now. None of the mobile phones were being answered, and the landlines were dead.The colonel’s orders were to allow local law enforcement and the FBI to run the mission. But if Max was the first to arrive, he’d ignore that directive, just as he’d ignored the orders to stay on base until SOCOM briefed a fully manned black ops team.Defying orders, Donnie and Max threw on battle rattle and relied on a friend and chopper pilot to give them a ride. Now MIT scrambled to cover their men’s asses. They’d departed on a mission on American soil that was not fully authorized. Max didn’t give a shit. His pregnant wife and child w
Max hung up the call to his wife and strode into the meeting room. Abby wasn’t resting or eating as well as she should. Screw trying ever again for a third kid. This pregnancy was the most stressful shit Max had ever experienced, and that included going head-to-head with suicidal extremist bastards.Those worrying thoughts screeched to a halt as soon as Max saw his boss standing in the far corner. Max and Donnie had been pulled out of morning training and asked to meet one of their analysts—Jace Martin—on base. Jace was in the room but so was Colonel Jack Hearst. Was it to do with Slater’s replacement? Max doubted it, as he stood at attention. Donnie fell in beside him. The look on the distinguished MIT mogul’s face had Max’s skin itching.“Sir. It’s good to see you. What brings you to Utah?”“Erik, we’ve fucked up. Not just MIT but every agency in the northern hemisphere. Close the door and sit.&
The mattress creaked, waking Lizzy. She didn’t move, preferring to savor the safe moment. Cocooned in John’s bed and his love, she’d slept through the night and woken feeling at peace. It wasn’t quite morning, the hint of dawn scrubbed over by the sound of a storm sweeping in. Lizzy reached behind and felt the empty warmth as she heard John slam the window shut.Ray shifted next to her chest, and Lizzy snuggled deeper. “What time is it?”“Four thirty. I might as well get up; I need to check on the animals. This storm looks nasty,” he said before brushing his teeth at the sink.Lizzy dozed until the bed dipped, and he pulled his boots on.“Do you need help?”“I’m all good, Lizbug. If you feel like getting up though, I hear Abby banging around in the kitchen. I think Gabe woke her.”The wind howled as rain pelted against the window. “Five more minutes,” s
Two days later, Max and Donnie rolled out, headed for training at Camp Williams with the newest team member, Dylan Jenkins. A local Utahan sniper from the 19th Special Forces Group. Johnny admired the laid-back soldier. Aside from his Army career, the operator embodied a reckless, surfer-like attitude as a well-known snowboarder in Utah. It would be interesting to see how their uptight team leader handled the Owen Wilson wannabe. Dylan’s long-range marksmanship and excellent skills in the field would make him a valuable MIT member—aside from the additional training lined up for him at MIT headquarters later in the month. At Max’s insistence, Johnny stayed behind with Lizzy. As they were still evaluating Jenkins’ skills, it wasn’t essential for Johnny to be at Camp Williams. If they needed him, they’d call.***“I forget how hot the summers can get in some parts of the States, is late May supposed to be this warm?” Abby gr
Balancing tentatively on the ball of her foot, Lizzy poked her head through the canopy of leaves. Wyoming was truly breathtaking. Silence surrounded her. Not true silence as she could still hear insects buzzing, the leaves rustling in the afternoon breeze and a bleating sheep answered by three more. The distant hills looked so clear in the waning light, the golden rays contrasting with shadowed crevices in the craggy mountainside. She missed climbing trees; she still loved it.Her head sank back below the branches, and Lizzy looked down. The branch she balanced on bent under her weight, and she transferred her foot to a sturdier limb. The new branch instantly disintegrated, almost melting into thin air. Before she could comprehend her predicament, she fell to the earth, bouncing through and over battering limbs. Just before she slammed into the ground, strong arms caught her and they fell, rolling down a steep hill at a dizzying pace.A scarlet blur filled her vision a