Renegade: The Alliance Chronicles, Book Six

Chapter 21

Mark

"I fell in love with my best friend. I pray he'll still be my rock when all is said and done."

—from "It Happens: When Friendship Turns to Love," by Dr. E. Rich

The team is gathered in the main room of the apartment, waiting for instructions. Personally, I wish the mission was over, and we were headed back to the AR. Feeling weak and vulnerable doesn't sit well with me. I've always been strong, brave, determined, and a bit crazy. When I had the chance, I should have beat the shit out of Liam, but I backed out instead of dealing with reality.

Kapernecki side-glances at me. A flicker of concern shines in her eyes. I don't like it. She shouldn't be worried about a worthless renegade like me.

Fletch, his gaze bouncing around the room, puts away his phone. "We have intel."

"Should we play guessing games?" I snap.

His head rocks back as he purses his lips for a minute. "Zared Aoki's wife has family in Rondônia. Someone saw the group in Candeias do Jamari. According to the family, Oliveira's men patrol that area."

"So we hand Martinez over to Oliveira," I suggest.

"That was my plan," Fletch says.

Kapernecki asks, "How do we get him to Oliveira?"

Niang jumps in, "Catia left us her truck. It's parked near the building."

The only truck downstairs is an old rust bucket. We'll be lucky if the clunker makes it to the edge of town.

"Let's go," I say.

Niang jerks his head toward the hall and leaves the room with Kapernecki.

"You all right for the rest of the mission?" Fletch asks.

"Yeah. Are you?" I quip.

His face tightens as his eyes search me for any sign of instability. Instead, I hold my chin higher. Although I had a history of screwing shit up, I intended to finish what we started.

He pushes off the wall and sighs. "Let's do this then."

§

The rusty pickup Catia left belches fumes as we inch down the road. Liam rides in the flatbed between Niang and Fletch. Kapernecki's in the driver's seat, wanting to talk.

"You okay, Mark?"

"Would you stop asking me that?" I bark. Does she expect me to fall apart? As much as I liked to lose my shit, I can't afford the luxury.

"Sorry. I thought you might want to talk about it," she says.

"Well, I don't. I told you I don't remember shit so there's nothing for us to discuss. Consider me lucky."

She glances at me. "I wouldn't say that. Just because you don't remember, doesn't make you lucky. My memories push me forward, keep me surviving. They keep me from being assaulted again."

Damn. I wasn't assaulted, not like she was.

Instead of continuing the conversation, I turn to the window and watch the changing landscape. Dingy, dirty shops and housing give way leaving behind empty fields and lots of trees. Humidity descends on us, making my T-shirt cling to me like static electricity. I exhale and try to ignore the scent of gasoline permeating the cab.

"Wake me if you need me," I say as I slouch down and close my eyes, letting the growl from the engine and the tires whispering against the asphalt lull me to sleep.