Twelve

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“Captain,” Joe muffled his voice over the radio. “Miller, here. We’ve found one of them. Requesting orders, sir.”

“Excellent!” the exalted voice of Captain Tanzer cut through the static. “What’s your twenty?”

Joe looked around and tried to gage his location. He gave him false directions that would take him around the other side of the compound. “About two clicks northwest from Janitorial Services HQ.”

“Right. Hold position. I’ll be there in ten.”

That should keep the bastard busy just enough to let them slip under radar. Joe smiled unevenly. Lawrence cocked an eyebrow and shrugged pleadingly.

“Security jargon. You’ll learn. I just told him we are more than a mile away from where we are. We’ll be long gone before he realizes it.”

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