“Yes sir,” both Votansky and Normakov answered.

  “I want you to scout out that way,” he gestured toward the slight rise beyond the Ural. “See if the thieves are still here.”

  The two NCOs peered around, clearly not all that eager to come out into the open. Then, before Rankin could become too angry, Votansky solved the problem: “Slokin!” He yelled at the private who had, so far, stayed crouched down in the back of the car. “Get out here and take the point!” He smiled as the younger man reluctantly stepped out into the open. “We will be right behind you!”

  ***

  Flame missed all the banter—it would have given him a good laugh. His run across the broken landscape had gone well and he now found himself on the edge of a long beach. The sand gave him very good footing and he lengthened his stride…

  ***

  “Here sir!” Slokin pointed at a long mark in the soft earth. “Someone was here!”

  Lieutenant Rankin hurried to the man’s side, any concern about an ambush washed away by the need to find the men who had destroyed his vehicle and with it, his hopes for promotion.

  “See?” The private displayed his find. “Someone was up here.” He nodded to a slightly scooped out mark on the top of the rise. “Watching us, I think.” His hand moved downward. “Then he slid down the back of this rise and headed that way.” He pointed into the darkness.

  “Well done, Private.” Rankin clapped the man on the shoulder. “We will follow these tracks.” He pointed at the marks Flame, Aesop and the others had made. “We will follow them until we find the thieves and traitors we have traced to this point.” He turned toward the two NCOs huddled near the barely-burning remains of the Ural. “Votansky! Normakov!” He gestured to them. “Come this way.” He started to turn away, and then had a thought. “And bring a radio with you!”

  The NCOs grumbled and took their time but, finally, joined the officer and headed into the darkness, led by the young private who was now beginning to wish he had never told anyone about the tracks he had found.

  ***

  “Aesop?” Flame tapped on his earbud to make sure it was on. “Aesop, can you read?”

  “G…t you by…”

  “Stand by.” Flame kept running, the sand smooth beneath his feet. He covered another few hundred yards, then: “Aesop?”

  “Got you now.” The voice was sharp and clear. “Five by.”

  “Good.” Flame smiled. “Where are you?”

  “According to my GPS, we are across the border—inside Turkey.”

  “Everyone okay?”

  “A little nervous.” Flame heard the chuckle in his friend’s voice. “They’re afraid I’m going to make them do some more walking…” There was a long pause. “And your friend Karin is worried about you.”

  “Tell her I’m okay.” Flame peered ahead. “Flash a light, will you?” He saw the quick response in the distance. “I’m less than a mile away—should be there soon.”

  “Good.” Aesop’s voice showed a measure of relief. “I’ll tell the others.”

  “Do that.” Flame grinned. “And tell Eric that I lost his cell phone.” The grin widened. “Tell him it went up in a blaze of glory.”

  ***

  “They are too far ahead,” Rankin puffed as he signaled a stop. “We will never catch them.” The portly officer and his two even more portly NCOs had barely managed to cover a third of the distance to the beach—and knew that their quarry was far ahead. “Unless…”

  Rankin grabbed the radio from Votansky and attempted to make a call to someone he knew on the eastern edge of the Crimea—barely in radio range. If I can just get through to them…

  ***

  Aesop and the others were standing on the edge of the beach as Flame approached—all eyes on him. “You made it!” The big ex-SEAL slapped him on the shoulder. “I wasn’t sure…”

  “Didn’t even fire a shot.” Flame grinned. “Just used Eric’s phone to burn the last of our fuel—didn’t seem right to waste it.”

  “Bastard!” Eric was right behind Aesop. “Why did you destroy my phone? It had all my contacts, all my photos…”

  “Relax,” Flame reached into one of the cargo pockets on his pants. “I removed the SIM card.” He handed the angry German the card in question. “All you lost was some already-obsolete hardware.”

  “But…” Eric looked at the card. “It was mine…”

  “Any word from our pickup?” Flame turned away from the grousing cameraman. “They should have been here by now.”

  “Nothing so far.” Aesop tapped his watch. “We’re a little early…”

  “Those Russians aren’t all that far behind.” Flame turned to look up the beach. “And I’m not sure they’ll pay much attention to an unguarded border after what they did in the Ukraine.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” Aesop closed his enormous hand around Flame’s shoulder and turned him to the left. “Look!”

  They both watched as a boat, blacked out and with no running lights, emerged from the darkness.

  “That should be our ride.” Flame pulled out a flashlight. “Let’s make sure.” He turned the lens toward the boat and flashed the agreed upon signal.

  Seconds later, the proper response appeared.

  “Okay everyone.” Flame motioned to the rest of the party. “Get ready to move.” He nodded toward the boat, and said, “there’s our ride home!”

  Ten minutes and two rowboat loads later, the entire party was standing on the deck of a Turkish fishing boat where they were joined a moment later by a grinning Dana.

  “I see you got them all out safely.” She nodded over to Flame, saying “And without starting a shooting war.”

  “So far.” Flame shrugged. “Night’s not over yet.”

  “We’re in Turkish waters,” Dana told him. “Even the Russians…”

  She stopped as a familiar sound noise rose over the water.

  “Chopper!” Flame unslung the Russian AK-47 he’d been carrying since the Georgian border.

  “It’s that MI-24.” Aesop pointed to a pair of flashing lights in the near distance. “The Russians must have sent it after us.”

  “They can’t do anything!” Dana stared at the machine. “We’re in Turkish waters!”

  “They couldn’t grab the Crimea, either.” Flame checked the clip on the rifle before charging the weapon and clicking the safety off. “How’d that work out?”

  They all stood and watched the chopper move toward them.

  “Go for that area just under the rotors.” Aesop pointed. “Lots of cooling gear up there, if you can cut one of those lines…”

  “It’s pulling off!” Dana suddenly stiffened and touched her earbud. “Bivens says that the USS Truxtun just painted the chopper with its targeting array.” She smiled. “They’re getting out while they still can.”

  “I guess we did it.” Aesop smiled. “We drove those poor hunted news reporters all the way from the Crimea to Turkey—without firing a single shot.”

  “I’ve never been on a mission where I didn’t fire at least once.” Flame looked at the Kalashnikov in his hand and shrugged. “And I’m not going to start now.” He aimed the rifle over the side and squeezed off a three-round burst.

  “I’m with you, brother.” Aesop took the rifle from him and fired three rounds of his own.”

  “Me too.” Dana held out her hands and accepted the weapon, putting her own three-shot burst into the sea.

  “Can anyone join in?” Karin had joined the little group and, at Dana’s smile, she took the rifle and clumsily took her own shots.

  “We’ll be in Istanbul by dawn,” Dana told the smiling German. “You should be able to fly out sometime this evening.”

  “Evening is good,” Karin said as she eyed Flame. “There are one or two things I want to do first…”

  ***

  “I did everything possible, Colonel!” It was just short of noon as Lieutenant Rankin stood in front of his commanding officer; he’d had no opportunity to clean up and knew he looked like shit, his uniform caked with sweat from his ill-fated attempt to chase down the escaping reporters. “I even called in a helicopter gunship…”

  “Too late.” The colonel shook his head. “You are always too late, Rankin. It is the story of your life.” He looked the portly man up and down, measuring him. “You may return to your motor pool, Lieutenant.” He gestured a dismissal. “And if I discover a single tire or engine part is missing…”

  The remainder went unsaid as Rankin hurried out of the colonel’s presence. At least I still have my motor pool, he told himself. I haven’t lost that…

  Just any hope for a future…

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Flame knotted a towel around his waist as he exited the shower. The trip to Istanbul had taken hours and the boat that Dana had managed to charter had not been particularly well-kept. No sweat, he told himself. I’m reasonably clean now and I have nearly six hours until our flight back to the States. He yawned and stretched. Time enough to get a little sleep.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Who the hell? Flame hadn’t ordered room service and he didn’t think Dana would bother him about a debriefing just yet. Could the Russians have tracked us down? His hand touched the 9mm he’d placed on the dresser—but he didn’t pick it up. They wouldn’t knock…

  He opened the door.

  “Good morning, Flame.” Karin stood in the doorway, dressed, like Flame, in nothing more than a hotel towel. “I thought I’d give you a little something to think about before you get back to your Kimberly.” She smiled and stepped into the room. “And…” She gestured and Leni, clad in an identical towel, joined her. “I brought company.”

  The door swung shut behind them.

  ***

  Flame was dragging a bit by the time he joined Aesop at the airport. Dana was nowhere in sight—something for which Flame was grateful.

  “What happened, man?” Aesop shook his head at his friend’s ragged look. “You look like you got in the ring with Chuck Liddell!”

  “I could take Liddell.” Flame ran a hand across his eyes. “I…” He was interrupted as a dainty hand touched his shoulder.

  “That was some afternoon, babe.” Karin’s grin was wide and just a tiny bit predatory. “Make sure you tell your Kimberly about it.”

  “Yes.” Leni smiled sweetly from a few steps further back. “Give her our love!”

  And then they were gone, heading for the Lufthansa boarding gates, laughing as they went.

  “Two of them,” Aesop said, his voice admiring. “No wonder you’re tired!”

  “Don’t give me any shit about this, not one bit!" Flame gave his friend a glare. “And whatever you do, do not tell Dana…”

  “Tell me what?”

  Flame’s face fell as he realized his partner was directly behind him. Why didn’t I hear her coming up? he asked himself. Am I that out of it? He turned, prepared to face the music. “I had an interesting afternoon…”

  “We went out to look at the Hagia Sophia and the Topkapi Palace.” Aesop put his arm around his partner’s shoulder. “Took us all afternoon to see both but it was worth it.”

  “So neither of you got any sleep at all?”

  “We’ll sleep on the plane.” Aesop’s grin spread across his face. “It’s a long flight.”

  “That might be a good idea.” She turned toward the boarding gate, which had just opened. “Eric sent along some interesting job offers…”

  “Later.” Flame gestured with an open hand. “After we debrief on this one.”

  “Just what I had in mind.” Dana gave her passport and ticket to the gate clerk. “See you aboard.”

  Then she was gone and Flame was scrambling to find his own paperwork. “Thanks, Aesop.” He gave the other man a grateful look. “Thanks for covering for me.”

  “Hey.” The big SEAL handed his own passport and ticket to the agent. “What are friends for?” His grin widened. “But you gotta tell me what it was like! I mean, two babes like that…”

  Flame shook his head. It was going to be a loooong flight.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Two days later, Flame, fully refreshed and back to normal, strode into the office that housed the security company he and Dana had started. Eric Bivens was, as usual, seated in front of his computer, but today he’d been joined by Aesop, who sat alongside of him and watched the odd images and combinations that scrolled across the screen.

  “Glad you could make it.” Dana smiled as Flame closed the door. “We’ve got a couple of jobs to talk about.”

  Flame nodded, holding his own announcement back. I might have to change plans if she’s got something really big, he told himself. Otherwise…

  “First,” Dana glanced at her computer. “We’ve got a missing oil tanker.” She turned to Bivens. “Eric?”

  “As you know, our navy keeps track of each and every supertanker as they move around the world.” He smiled. “This isn’t one of those—it’s a rather small tanker that's obsolete for most work.” He called up an image. “The Saudis have been using it to shuttle refined oil products to various African ports as part of their ‘charitable’ work.” He shrugged. “It was on the way to Kenya when it disappeared.”

  “Satellite imagery?” Aesop leaned in closer to the monitor.

  “Nothing useable—there are a lot of ships of this type around the Persian Gulf—and we have no way to differentiate this particular one from all of the others.”

  “Who do the Saudis think is responsible?” Flame wasn’t really that interested—the Gulf was a long way from where he was planning to go.

  “They think it was taken off course by its new owner, one Madani Al-Dhakheel.” He turned toward the group. “Madani is the nephew of Al-Waleed bin Talal.”

  “Al-Waleed’s nephew.” Aesop shook his head. “How many assholes does the royal family keep around?”

  “A lot.” Dana grinned. “We had a long list at NSA.”

  “If this Madani owns the ship, why do the Saudis call it ‘missing’?” Despite himself, Flame was growing interested.

  “Seems the ship has been under charter to a Saudi transport group for the last few years.” Bivens called up several bits of documentation. “As I said, they’ve been using it to move gasoline to various African ports.” He zoomed in on one of the documents. “The charter is still in effect and the ship was supposed to arrive in Kenya nearly ten days ago.” He turned toward Dana and Flame. “It never got there.”

  “What do they want us to do?” Dana nodded toward the screen. “If they got grabbed by pirates, they should be talking to the navy. If it’s just a broken charter,” she shrugged, “it’s a job for lawyers.”

  Bivens brought up a new set of documents. “They’re not as worried about the ship itself as they are about this Al-Dhakheel—seems he was radicalized by his uncle and they’re concerned that he wants to use the tanker for something nasty.”

  “Great.” Flame shrugged. “But I don’t see what we can do about it. If it turns up on satellite imagery, the Saudis can get the navy to grab it, if it doesn’t…”

  “Table that one for now.” Dana nodded. “We’ll wait and see what develops.” She turned to Bivens again. “What else do we have?”

  “The admiral asked us to look into an odd situation in Brazil.” New images came up on the big screen. “Seems a number of ‘Bin Laden’ coffee shops and restaurants have sprung up in Rio and other cities.” He smiled. “There are even a few Bin Laden bars.” He shrugged. “Guess the owners of those don’t really understand the tenets of Islam.”

  “And just what are we supposed to do about Brazilian coffee shops and bars?” Flame’s tone was sharp—unusual for him. “I mean…” He shook his head.

  “They don’t want us to do anything—at least not right away. The admiral just wanted us to take a look—see if we can supply him with a feel for what’s actually going on.”

  “Flame,” Dana turned to her partner. “You and Aesop can fly down there and…”

  “I’m not going,” the big redhead declared. “I’m going away for a few days—taking some vacation time.”

  “Vacation?” Dana frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s spring break,” Aesop put in. “His Kimberly must have contacted him.”

  “She did.” Flame nodded. “She’s going to Daytona Beach.” He ran his eyes around the room. “And I’m meeting her there tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Dana nodded instant assent. “Aesop, you go to Brazil and look over the coffee shop situation; Eric, you keep on top of the tanker thing. Flame,” she turned to her partner with a smile, “you go and have a good time—you’ve more than earned it.”

  “And don’t forget to tell Kimberly all about…” Aesop realized that Dana was listening rather intently. “Tell her all about your day in Istanbul.” He grinned. “I’ll bet she’ll be real interested.”

  “I’ll do that,” Flame stood and headed for the door. “I surely will.”

  ***

  Flame spent much of the drive south wondering why Kimberly had chosen Daytona Beach as her spring break destination. Her daddy’s got lots of money, he thought as, finally arriving, he maneuvered the Mustang past long lines of cars parked on the beach. She could go anywhere she wanted—why Daytona?

  I’ll have to ask her. He glanced at his watch. I’m supposed to meet her at the band shell in about an hour. He grimaced. If I can find a place to park the damned car!!

  It took a while but Flame finally found an open space just south of the Grand Seas Resort. He’d dressed for the beach in a pair of surfer shorts, sneakers (no socks), and a rather loud Hawaiian shirt he’d acquired (oddly) in Baghdad a few years earlier. Now he took a long moment to stretch, then made sure his glove box was securely locked (his Colt 1911 was inside—his permit would allow him to carry it, but he just couldn’t see how to fit it into a pair of shorts without the gun showing), and stepped onto the sandy beach.