Risk and Rebel's Guide Book

TEAM BRAVO > EXCERPT

SOMEWHERE IN BRAZIL

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A building was on fire.

Team Bravo was rushing away from it, sprinting across roof tops, a lone backpack and two machine guns in tow. In the backpack was a stolen hard drive, and it had come from the building . . . which they had not meant to set on fire.

But when you've been undercover in some lesser-known area of Brazil for two months without any progress, and figure it's now or never, complications are bound to arise.

Their complications just happened to include starting a (now growing) fire and being pursued by national security.

Fortunately enough, they'd been able to tip off LASAR as to their predicament before everything went up in flames. They'd be meeting the nearest operatives at the town's border . . . assuming they made it that far.

"This," Legion roared, a death grip on the backpack as he leapt across buildings, "is why I hate long-term undercover work!"

"What, you think I enjoy it?" Sergeant retorted, sprinting just a few steps ahead of his partner. Every once in a while he'd glance back at their pursuers -- none were firing off shots yet, nor were they catching up.

"I think you enjoyed setting that fire, yes!" Legion shouted.

"Oh, shut up and run faster!" Sergeant yelled, making a flying leap across one roof to the next, pausing only when he caught sight of a fire escape. He grabbed hold of his partner's arm just seconds before Legion could continue his sprinting, and instead dragged him toward the ladder before beginning to slide down it himself.

From there, the duo booked it through the streets. They both had only a vague sense of where they were supposed to be meeting their extraction team, but neither was extremely concerned. They were nearing the outskirts of the town with every step, and had by that point lost their tails. Now it was just a matter of meeting their ride . . . whoever it was that LASAR had sent.

"It'll be whoever was closest," Sergeant said as they neared a tree-line. He glanced over at Legion. "Got any idea who that'd be?"

Legion shook his head, hefting the backpack further up his shoulder. "Could be anyone. Most other operatives don't stay in one place nearly as long as we do. Could be Boss himself so far as I know."

They both went quiet when the hum of an engine broke the surrounding silence, their eyes moving to try and place the sound. It came from past the trees, was the strange thing, but soon enough both found the opening -- a dirt trail, with bright lights bursting from it.

Headlights.

Instinctively, both of them stepped back into the shadows of the nearest building. They watched carefully as a matte green Jeep headed toward them, coming to a halt just a few yards away from them. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but once they did, smiles broke out upon their faces.

A short-haired brunette flashed them a crooked smile from the driver's seat, her tall, dark-haired partner lounging beside her with a large automatic shotgun in his hands.

"Hooligans?" Legion asked, visibly stunned.

"It's your lucky day, Bravo," Rebel announced with an amused gleam in his green eyes.

"That's debatable," Sergeant muttered.

Risk rolled her eyes at that. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to the empty backseat; "Time to go, boys. You've set off enough alarms to reach Rio."

"Which," Legion said as he climbed into the backseat, "I'm guessing is where you came from?"

"It is," Rebel agreed.

No sooner had Team Bravo situated themselves than did Risk urge the Jeep to take off, and the four of them were zooming away from the impending disaster. 

"So," Risk said, glancing at the men in her rearview, "you set a building on fire, huh?"

Legion and Sergeant exchanged a quick look before both began to speak at once. Sergeant was defending himself, Legion was pointing fingers left and right . . . both were cut off by her loud laughter. "Same old Bravo," she chuckled.