Fortune's Soldier: Shadow Ops Alpha by Sarah Luddington

Author:Sarah Luddington [Luddington, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mirador Publishing
Published: 2019-07-11T23:00:00+00:00

“Well, boys, I’m glad to see you’ve made up,” Brant’s hard voice woke me faster than my drill sergeant used to years before.

I dislodged Sam from my chest as I sat up, blinking into the early morning glare and the silhouette of our colonel. “Morning,” I managed.

Sam grunted but didn’t move, his hand over my cock and balls under the blanket. Brant sighed as if a martyr to our behaviour. “Up, boys, I have mission parameters to explore with you.”

She left the tent.

“How the fuck did she find us?” Sam muttered.

“The phone, you muppet.” I smacked his arse. “Come on, we need to get dressed and figure out if we really want to go after the nuke.”

“Don’t forget the virus, Luke. We have a virus to find as well.” He rolled onto his back and scratched the black hair over his chest. “I need coffee. Oh, and a bacon and egg butty. You make the best bacon and egg butties I’d ever had.”

I laughed and it felt good. “Don’t think we’re likely to find bacon in Syria or anywhere this side of the Mediterranean.”

“Russians have bacon. Let’s go there,” he said, pulling on his fatigues.

“I’d like to stop having to go north if possible,” I said. “I’m not sure I want to get into Russia, maybe Armenia? They’ll have bacon there.”

“Okay, we’ll go there… Is Georgia Muslim?” he asked and winked at me.

The banter continued until we left the tent and found Brant leaning against a post, her eyes closed but face to the rising sun. Freckles covered her smooth skin and despite being ten years our senior she looked amazing with full lips and a pert nose. The few times I’d seen her in a dress she had a knockout sense of style but those hands could, would and did, break bones. I’d watched her blow a man’s brains out while he begged for his miserable life in the snow of some forgotten battle we’d won.

“Food?” she suggested the moment she left off worshiping the sun.

“Yes,” we agreed and she had her tigers leashed once more.

We flanked her as we walked through the camp, everyone washing back from her powerful sense of self-possession. When we reached the mess tent we saw Lydia and three laptops set up in the corner.

“I thought we were supposed to be BBC reporters?” Sam said. “This is all a bit overt.”

“I think the time for subtle has long past considering the original convoy you blew up, the village you blew up and the refugee camp you almost blew up,” she said.

“With respect, ma’am, the village was the only one that was directly our fault,” Sam said.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, soldier.”

“Hello, boys,” said Lydia. She grinned at us and winked at Sam. They’d been flirting for years before we left Unit Twelve and that clearly wasn’t going to change.

“Hello, love,” he said, dropping a kiss on her short black hair and sitting beside her.

I sat opposite and took her hand to give it a kiss.

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