Dice
How does that saying go? First comes marriage, and then comes babies. Wait, that's not right. Hell, if I know. I do know that it looks like Cloey and I have skipped a few steps in between, and it makes me wonder where that leaves us. I know where I want it to leave us, but I must tread carefully. She's not as calm and collected as she thinks she is.
"Les Andrews," Gunner reads from the papers before him. The heater in the truck is starting to make me sweat. I switch the unit off.
Gunner hums a tune from The Sound of Music. Rolling my eyes, I take my hands off the wheel long enough to throw a piece of paper from the dash at the man. I'm one of the few men Gunner will allow that with. The man is a rock. No one wants to mess with him. And truth be told, he's one of my best friends. Striker is one of the other few who can get away with messing with Gunner. The three of us joined Rescue Team Nine together. We are a close trio, and I know it's a brotherhood that will last for the rest of our lives.
"That was Julie Andrews, you idiot."
"What?" Gunner looks innocent as he continues to read the papers. He's tossing pictures of the man from side to side.
"Hey, I'm just saying he looks like he might need to let loose a few dance moves and break out in song. He's flighty as hell in these pictures."
"We should get out more when we're at base," I comment with a smile. The Sound of Music might not be the top male movie of the year, but the ladies of Wayward Ranch who convinced us to watch it last Christmas weren't bad. Not bad at all, including the blonde who tried everything in her power to get in my pants, but I couldn't get my mind off another certain blonde. When it comes to Les, however, Gunner's right.
"I'm just trying to figure out how a man like this could be swayed to be part of such a violent living. I'm shocked the man hasn't gotten a bullet in his head yet."
"Let me see that." Holding the wheel with one hand, I reach out.
Gunner hands me the folder. The file is thick. I'm always impressed with Striker's ability to obtain information quickly.
"Everything's there. He even managed to get a hold of some pictures from his childhood. Social media can be a pain in the ass, but there are days it sure comes in handy. The son of a bitch doesn't even have a private profile."
I pull out the prints of the man as a young child while allowing the car behind me to pass. I can tell I've pissed the driver off for going too slow, but I don't give a shit. We have a long drive ahead of us, and I want to take advantage of the time to learn everything we can.
"Les "The Sandman" Andrews."
"The what?" Gunner and Cloey ask in unison.
"It was a nickname he had in school. His room was next to mine at the boarding school we attended."
"Why Sandman?" Gunner asks.
"The guy always fell asleep in class, so the name just stuck. It was stupid. Boys being boys, but Les didn't take to it very well."
"Obviously, the poor fucker took it to heart. Now he's turned into one of those weird comic book villains." Gunner has a thing for comic books, a fascination he shares with Red's wife. They often clash good-naturedly about which ones are best.
"Hey." I throw my hand up, letting the file fall into Cloey's lap. "I didn't even talk to the man. I'm just repeating what I witnessed. Several times, I even spoke up for him. I was too busy back then chasing the girls from the boarding school across the street. I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a bully."
"That I can believe," Gunner speaks up.
I wait for the sarcasm, but for once, there is none. Gunner may be a jerk most of the time, but he can be loyal to a fault. The rest of the trip is spent in silence. Gunner and I take turns driving so we can get a nap in. Cloey has already succumbed to slumber by the time I've switched with my comrade. Each of us works the situation around in our minds, and by the time we near my childhood home, we have a plan, albeit a rusty one. It still needs some work to solidify it, but working on our feet is a talent Gunner and I have perfected over the years. The manor soon comes into view, and I inwardly groan. The large plantation home is situated off a road surrounded by large oak trees. The gardens surrounding the sizeable white manor are impeccable. No imperfections. It's scary the things that can be hidden from view. If it appears perfect, it probably isn't.
As I park the truck, I sigh. There will be little sleep in the days to come. By the time this is over, I may share Red's affinity for coffee.
YOU ARE READING
Impossible Odds: Rescue Team Nine (Book 3)
Romance**COMPLETED** Politics is a world Chance Dice Sanders is all too familiar with. Thrust in the middle of his family's political careers, he ran off to join the Coast Guard. His fearlessness and impulsive decisions earned him a reputation as a rescue...
