Cindy Dees - Medusa’s Master

Six men were out here? Those last two might have successfully ambushed the Medusas had the H.O.T. Watch combat observers not warned them. Handy, having an infrared picture from God’s-eye view like this.

Jennifer Blackfoot came up on frequency. “Visual shows one more hostile back in the parking lot. He appears to be tampering with your vehicle.”

Kat’s jaw dropped. Okay, so the H.O.T. Watch folks were more than handy. They were lifesavers.

“Copy,” Jeff murmured. “I have my man in sight.”

The woods and the radios went silent as the hostiles calmed down from their initial panic and went into hard-core hunting mode, creeping stealthily through the lush tropical foliage.

It was a deadly game of cat and mouse. For the most part, Kat, Jeff and the Medusas held their positions, hunkered down to wait out the hostiles as the H.O.T. Watch observers occasionally murmured a position update.

And then Jennifer announced, “Problem, folks. We just got a momentary visual on one of your hostiles. We enhanced the image, and he appears to be wearing night-vision goggles. We cannot confirm, but have to assume they’re infrared.”

Kat’s stomach dropped. That meant they also had to assume that their trackers could see them now, and would shoot them on sight. The rules of this game had just changed completely.

Jeff breathed into the radio. “Request permission to go full offensive.”

Kat held her breath while a long pause ensued. Then Jennifer spoke crisply. “Pull out of there. Attempt not to kill them, but shoot your way out of there as necessary.”

Jeff murmured, “Copy. Medusas, rendezvous at Point Alpha.”

The Medusas always established several rendezvous points in case they got separated on an op.

Jennifer spoke again. “Cobra, if possible, please confirm your kill and search the body. Who are those guys?”

Kat shimmied down out of the tree quickly, her gloves and shoes sticky with sap. She raced for the man she’d shot. She stared when she got to his body. His pockets were already turned inside out, his left wrist flung wide-and minus a watch. His weapon was gone. He wore no ammunition belt, and she thought she remembered glimpsing the bulge of one when she’d taken the shot. But she’d been firing from a wacky angle. Maybe she was wrong.

“This guy’s been stripped of all identification,” she reported.

Jeff ordered, “Converge on me, ladies. Ops, if you’d vector them in?”

The H.O.T. Watch controllers obliged, and Kat followed their directions toward her teammates. She thought hard as she ran lightly through the trees. Her kill’s identity had been sanitized by one of his buddies. Which was pretty sophisticated behavior for common thugs. These guys were pros.

Jennifer Blackfoot came back up. “We just picked up a phone call to the Bajan police. Gunshots were reported. Time to leave the area. ETA on police-five minutes.”

Dang. The H.O.T. Watch had the capacity to monitor local phone calls, too?

Jeff started, “Raven, about our vehicles. The cops-”

Jennifer cut him off. “Carter’s calling the police now to tip them off anonymously that the cars may be rigged to blow up.”

“Thanks,” Jeff replied.

Kat was close to their rendezvous point and reached it in about a minute. She topped a steep outcropping of rock and spotted a crouching figure before her. A hand signal flashed. Jeff . She flashed back an all’s well and he waved her in. She moved to his side while they waited for the others to join them.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, off radio.

She was startled to realize that the very same question had been on the tip of her tongue to ask him. Thing was, she already knew he was uninjured. And yet, she felt a need for reassurance. Her hands wanted to run over his limbs and torso and face, to check for injuries. Weird. She answered, likewise off radio, “I’m fine. You?”

“Fine. Why’d you shoot that guy?”

It did not escape her that he was giving her the benefit of the doubt-that he was assuming she’d had a good reason to disobey his order not to shoot and giving her a chance to share it with him. “The tango stood up, took aim, and started to fire at one of you.” She shrugged. “There was no time to ask for a modification of your order.”

He nodded briskly. “Okay. You’ll need to write it up, of course.”

She nodded, profoundly relieved. No questions. No second-guessing. He believed her story. Trusted her judgment. The paperwork of making an unauthorized kill was routine.

Karen and Isabella popped over the ridge next, and as sirens became audible in the distance, Aleesha and Misty joined them.

Jeff looked around. “Who’s your pacesetter?”

The slowest runner always set the pace, and the others stayed with her.

Aleesha answered. “Me or Isabella, depending on who’s carrying the most weight.”

Isabella grinned. “Hey, I’ve been working out like crazy.”

Aleesha grinned back. “I’m it, then. Let’s go.”

Kat fell in behind Python in the Medusas’ usual retreat order. Not surprisingly, Jeff assigned himself to bring up the rear-the most dangerous position in a fighting retreat. They ran steadily until they emerged from the park. Aleesha found a narrow road, and took off down it.

They ran hard for nearly an hour before the lights and noise of a village came into sight ahead of them. Jeff called a halt. They pulled off the road into a clump of tall weeds. He pulled out a map and spread it out on the ground between them. “I place us here. Do y’all concur?”

Kat glanced at the map and nodded her agreement.

Jeff continued. “It’s too far to run to any major town from here tonight. We can either obtain wheels or find someplace to camp.”

Kat spoke up. “I vote for wheels. I want to see what the Ghost gave me and we’ll need a computer to do that.”

Jeff stared at her. “He gave you something?”

“Looks like a computer disk. He said he found it by accident. It’s why he wanted to meet me.”

Jeff nodded. “Wheels it is, then. Who’s good at hotwiring cars?”

Aleesha laughed. “Boy-o, we be de Medusas…Lay dem baby blues on how we do business.”

Misty stood up, grinning. “Kat, your shirt, please. Maverick, if you wouldn’t mind turning your back…”

Kat stripped out of her close-fitting black turtleneck while Misty did the same. They quickly traded shirts. Additionally, Misty popped off her bra before pulling Kat’s shirt over her head. The effect never failed to startle Kat. The black fabric was skintight and left shockingly little to the imagination.

Misty announced, “You can turn around now, Maverick.”

He did so. Kat didn’t blame him for gulping. Misty was magnificently endowed, and Kat’s three-sizes-too-small shirt showed the girls off to full effect.

“Well, then,” Jeff commented dryly. “That’s certainly…informative.”

Kat’s eyes twinkled as he glanced over at her, clearly checking to make sure she wasn’t jealous of his reaction to Misty’s display.

“Pass me your cash, ladies,” Misty muttered as she applied mascara, using a small mirror Karen lit for her with a flashlight.

While Misty finished putting on eye shadow and lip gloss, the Medusas pooled their emergency cash. Misty counted it quickly. “That should be plenty. Wheels for six, coming up. Back in a few,” she said breezily. “The usual bet, Mamba?”

“T’ought you’d never ask, girlie. De usual.”

Misty disappeared down the road, rolling her pants down around her hips to show off her flat, tanned midriff, her golden hair loose and flowing behind her as she ran.

As they hunkered down to wait, Jeff asked, “What’s the bet?”