Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(53)

Tobiah pointed to a notebook mounted inside the gyro’s windscreen. “Google Maps is loaded. Looks straightforward to me. I saw a few suspicious areas I intend to check out, one where there’s a weird patch of green grass when the image was taken in September. I’m going to glide past that area with the engine off.”

Sax said, “I’ll start walking uphill when you take off. No sense hanging around here waiting for you. Wolf, you got your smoke canisters?”

Wolf slapped his utility belt. “Ten four. I’ve got some spares in my saddlebags if you want to carry some, too.”

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Sax figured he might as well look like he had Utility Belt Syndrome too by clipping some smoke bombs to his belt. “Sure. What sort of radio you going to use when you’re up there?”

Tobiah lifted a helmet off the gyro’s only seat. Like the brain bucket of Leo’s ATF contact, it had a built-in headset. Tobiah slapped it onto his head and put the visor down like he was about to weld something. It was good to have technical people on your side. From a box behind the driver’s seat he withdrew a hand-held radio, which he gave to Sax. “There’s a clip for your belt.”

Sax sighed. “Okay, Red Baron. I agree with Wolf here. Let’s get this thing in the air before those morons wake up from their stupor.”

“Ten four,” said Tobiah, echoing his nemesis, Wolf Glaser.

Tobiah buckled himself into his seat. Sax glanced at the simple setup—looked like Tobiah had a control joystick, a throttle, and rudder pedals.

Tobiah looked at his two companions meaningfully. Sax and Wolf glanced at each other. Was there something he’d failed to tell them? Tobiah had a sappy, overwrought look that made Sax uncomfortable.

“The sun never sets on a Bare Bones patch,” he intoned.

Wolf made a face as though he smelled a dead animal. “What’s that?”

“It’s a Bare Bones saying!” cried Tobiah. He looked to Sax. “Haven’t you ever heard of it?”

Sax shrugged. “No. But you know, I’ve been out of the loop for a while.”

“What a doofus saying,” scoffed Wolf.

“I sort of like it,” said Sax. “It’s like those Air Force slogans. ‘We do the impossible every day.’”

Tobiah pointed at him. “Exactly! And no, I didn’t just make it up. It’s like an armed forces motto. ‘Be all you can be.’”

Wolf rolled his eyes. He could barely cross his arms over his chest with all the paraphernalia he had strapped on over his bulletproof vest. “Oh, brother. Next thing you know, we’ll have secret passwords.”

Sax clapped Wolf on the shoulder. “Lighten up, Prospect. You want help with that rotor?”

“No, it’s got an automatic start,” said Tobiah. He couldn’t resist one last corny saying before he took off. “Into the wild blue yonder!”

The other two men stepped back as Tobiah started his rotor blades. He gained lift almost immediately, although he nearly collided with some Ponderosa branches on lift-off. The ultralight managed to clear the trees around them with amazing precision, pitching and rolling into steep turns until he was out of sight heading toward the ridge.

The men headed up there, too. Sax tried to talk about light subjects, such as the green patch of grass Tobiah had seen, or an area on the satellite map that looked distinctly like a metal hatch door. But Wolf expertly steered the conversation back to things he wanted to discuss, like sex.

“That was a mindblower when you let us into the game room. Never expected to see anyone nail that nun. Man did she have that just-f*cked look, her hair all tousled, her lips all puffy like a supermodel.”

Sax didn’t know whether to feel smug or offended. “Well, I nailed her all right. Tobiah looks like he’s already up to that right-hand water tank.”

“Is she your old lady? I noticed yesterday she had a jean jacket with a PROPERTY OF patch on, but no name.”

Sax definitely felt smug now. “Yeah, Madison is having my name made for her.” He couldn’t ask Wolf if he had enough ammo—that much was obvious, so he said, “This should be a pretty easy op. I toss these smoke bombs, the goons come out, and this time we’re not discriminating between Tormenta and goons. We bury them all.”

“Bury them all,” echoed Wolf, his eyes gleaming with fervor. “But listen. What’s it like? Banging a lady who used to be a nun? Does she just lie there? I noticed that racy collar she used to wear. Someone said she was into BDSM.”

“None of your f*cking business. I’ll thank you not to ask personal questions about my old lady, if you don’t f*cking mind. But no. She doesn’t just ‘lie there.’ And yeah. We both like a little bit of the old kinbaku.”

“What’s that? Some kind of sushi? Ooh, food play! I like taking some hot melted caramel and—”

Sax’s radio crackled. He whipped it off his belt, glad for an excuse to stop talking to the horny Wolf Glaser. “Sax here.”

Tobiah’s voice was as crackly as a collect call from the Congo. “Sax. I’ve got a visual on that green patch of land, and there’s definitely a trap door of some sort. Head there immediately. I’ve cut my engine, but I’ll head back to that water tank to start it up. Can you get a visual on Google Maps?”