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hit thirty."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Bones? Tin Can gave him a wink and started counting, voice getting
strained as he started to work, but the man didn't move, just let him do his work.
Trip showed up just as he was done with two large chests of medical supplies.  Half your guards are
dead. I sent the rest scrambling. Told the Kollas to get their wounded and disappear, that you'd get word
to them if you could once you're resettled."
"I said weapons first, Trip, complained Cap.
Trip snorted.  Gone. There's not a bullet left. And one of the jeeps is missing, the other two have slashed
tires, ripped out wiring and bullets in the engines."
"God damn motherfuckers. He tied Tin Can up, then gave the man a shot of demerol, antiemetic and
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antibiotic. He couldn't think. Not now. No thinking. Working. Just working.  There you go. You'll feel it
in a minute. Go. Sit. Next."
He bent and checked Viejo's pulse weak and thready, the old man was fucking bleeding out, he knew
it. He grabbed his stethoscope, started listening, looking.
"They knew what they were doing, all right, muttered Trip.
"Watts needs looking at, Bones."
"I'm okay, Cap. Let him fix up Viejo first."
"Where're you hurt, Watts? He pressed against Viejo's stomach, searching. A mass of blood spewed
from Viejo's mouth, spraying him, hot and steaming and wet as Viejo sank to the ground. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck. He fought the urge to throw back his head and scream. He and Viejo'd worked together fifteen
fucking years. Fifteen. Fuck. Fuck.  He's gone. I can't help him. Where the fuck are you hurt, Watts?"
He grabbed a piece of his scrubs, cleaned off his glasses.
"Head got grazed by a bullet. It's bleeding like a son of a bitch, but Doc told me I wasn't gonna die."
"You want Marco and Viejo buried? Trip asked him softly, hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah. Yeah. Fucking animals'll get them otherwise. He stood, slapping some butterfly clips and
antibiotic cream on Watts. Not thinking. Not thinking.  You'll have a great scar. Tonight I'll give you
something for the headache. Who's next?"
He just kept working. Not thinking. Not even beginning to think.
Trip and Doc dug holes for Marco and Viejo. Tin Can and Watts salvaged what they could. Cap
barked orders.
"All right, Bones, wrap it up. We're heading out to rendezvous with our guys. You have to cut your
people loose, we're not taking them with us."
He nodded, not even really listening. He headed back towards his tent to grab his bugout bag, to tell his
team his people for years some of them to take what they could and run. It wasn't until he grabbed
his bag and turned that he realized Trip was right there behind him, face grim, eyes watching, careful.
"I'm fine. He found a cigarette, having to chase the trembling flame with the end of the smoke.  You get
hurt at all?"
"No. I'm fine. Come on, Bones. We have to go. We've got a lot of walking to do tonight."
"Yeah. He stripped his t-shirt and pants off, skin stained with blood, then put on spares.  Let's go."
He headed out of the tent and didn't look back, didn't meet the dark eyes of the people he'd lived with,
worked with.
He was outta here.
* * * *
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God damn Trip was fucking tired.
They'd hiked into the hospital and then turned around and hiked back out again, heading past the  close
drop off point for one another thirty miles south. No stops. They couldn't afford it. Not until they met up
with the others and could set up a proper perimeter.
And then they'd figure out what the fuck was going on.
Cap called a halt just inside the jungle by the clearing where the bird was going to drop the ten guys
who'd agreed to come out and help. They were meeting up in a few hours, so they could rest.
Tin Can came over.  Bones? Cap says you need to call your sponsors and find out what the fuck they
know. What they want you to do."
Bones, who hadn't said a fucking word in hours, just nodded, looking at the man's arm before taking the
radio and walking a little way off, the cherry on the cigarette a dull red.
"He okay, Trip?"
"Hell if I know. He hasn't said a word."
"You don't have to take my head off."
"Sorry, TC. I just want to know who the fuck is responsible for this so I can tear their arms off."
He could hear Bones now, low furious growls splitting the air.  ...fucking bitch at me for deserting my
post you pointless motherfucker. They fucking bombed the shit out of everything and I fucking expect
you to drop me enough funds..."
"Sounds like we're not going to get a lot of help there. He growled. Stupid fuckers back in their air
conditioned offices in the States with no clue what the rest of the world was really like.
Cap came up and pounded him on his back.  That's all right, Trip. It's personal now. Once we decide
where to settle up, we can let the extras head off home again if Bones people don't cover their purses."
Another cigarette was lit, the flash of the lighter bright.  ...be a shame for all my records to fucking drop
into the media's lap, son. Don't fuck with me, I've had a long goddamned day and I was playing this
game before you could even fucking wipe your own ass. You let me talk to Rick. Now!"
He got a look from Cap, a raised eyebrow.  Bones got a bit of a temper?"
"He just doesn't like getting shot at or having his people killed."
"Yeah, kinda puts a damper on the day."
Something happened in the conversation then, Bones stopped short, shook his head, fingers rubbing his
forehead.
Frowning he headed over, taking a long swig from his canteen.  What's up?"
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"Rick says I got sold out. That every fucking merc in the southern hemisphere's got a picture of me.
Bones looked up at him, eyes still.  I'm worth more to you dead than alive."
"Jesus fuck. By who? Shit. Fuck. Favors or no favors, the guys they had coming in couldn't be trusted.
"Doesn't matter. I'm out of here. Bones handed over the radio.  Y'all stay safe."
He grabbed hold of Bones arm.  Hold the fuck up. I'm going with you. Cap and the guys'll let us split
out supplies. There was no fucking way Bones was going anywhere without him. Not with a bounty on
his head.
"No. They want me; they'll find me. I got Eduardo and Viejo and Marco on my conscience. I won't have
you, too. You didn't sign up out of the goodness of your heart or for some cause, remember? Bones
grinned, the look shocked and pale.  It's all about adventure and a paycheck."
"Fuck the paycheck, Bones. If they find you and I'm there, they won't be able to get you. He kept hold
of Bones arm and dragged him back over to the guys.  We've got to split up. The four of you can head
home once the others get here. You all can. Bones and I are going to ground."
"What the hell is going on, Trip? Cap stepped up and spoke for all of them.
"Seems like I've suddenly grown in worth, fellas, and, as much as I'd love to stay and play Trust the
Mercs? I don't have the kind of funding to stay in the game."
"Well fuck, that's a shame, Bones. You're one of the good ones, yeah? Cap shook Bones hand, his.
 We'll split out the medical supplies and, given we're about to meet up with a well supplied dozen men
you can take the radio."
Trip shook his head.  We don't need a radio. Just a head start."
"We won't chase you down! Tin Can looked affronted.
"I know. But the guys coming off those birds in three hours? I'm betting at least one of them is thinking of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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