chapter 39
TEAM 1 & 2, YEAR: 1200
Time Remaining: 18 Days
The days that followed the rock collapse were more frustrating and far less productive than Jake had anticipated, which surprised him as his expectations were set extremely low. With the exception of Ben, who was still bedridden, life at the camp had moved forward. Jake was happy to see that the rock collapse had not shaken Clint’s nerve. The morning that followed the collapse, his hot-and-cold sub had all of the fallen debris cleared away before breakfast. Clint’s attitude continually fluctuated between friendly and moody. Sometimes he was extremely helpful and even helped Maya fix the motor for the curtains in her trailer, but on other days his negativity drained the group’s collective energy. Clint’s acts of heroism after the rock collapse had built goodwill with the team, only for it to be undone a few days later after an outburst over a meatless meal—part of Maya and Darren’s attempt to ration the dwindling meat supply. Jake hoped that Clint would spare the group any future meltdowns because the team could not afford any more roadblocks.
The rock collapse had not set the group too far behind schedule, but Jake’s plan of gaining time by pushing the active Mole several more hours a day was foiled before the end of the first day. He knew the Mole models tended to be more finicky as a trade-off for their ability to articulate, but the number of breakdowns the team experienced seemed highly unusual. After running for two hours, Mole1 developed a grinding noise. Lexi confirmed on the monitors that the fix that Ben had put in place for the cooling system continued to be a hot spot and expected it to give out at any moment. Clint cut the load on the drill to half and hoped it would continue to work until Mole2 was back in business.
On the positive side, Finn had resolved the issue that plagued the guns. The welds between the cartridge clip and its modified extension had sustained hairline cracks during the time leap, and the loss of integrity caused the guns to fail as a safety precaution. Finn re-welded the cartridge clips and prepared to test the guns.
With Ben sidelined with injuries, there seemed to be more work than available hands to complete it. With the exception of Ben and Owen’s knee, everyone had physically recovered from their injuries. Owen’s knee was still severely damaged and he could walk no more than a few short steps without causing significant pain. The swelling had come down, but surgery would be needed upon his return. Owen managed to keep pace with the others thanks to his crutches. When Finn had told Owen there were crutches waiting for him, it brought back memories of the last time he had needed crutches—in university when he broke his ankle playing lacrosse. They were unpleasant then and Owen could not imagine how time could have improved upon them in any way. But what Finn called crutches, Owen would have called a floating Segway—a hover platform with a long neck that attached to the base and ended at waist height with handlebars. Owen had a blast zipping around the camp on his crutches. Not only was it fun, but it allowed him to get around the camp much faster than had he walked. With his ability to lift aided by his VersaTool, he suffered no significant setbacks in his capacity to work.
Jake joined Tyler in the work shed in the afternoon to expedite the maintenance. By the end of the day, the fluids were flushed and refilled and every tooth had been inspected and replaced where necessary. Tyler walked into the Mole’s control room, fired up the engine and it hummed to life. He engaged the drill head and as he increased the speed, a loud beeping echoed around the control room followed by a red light flashing on the monitor. Jake took the stairs two at a time and stuck his head into the control room. He hoped the problem was small, like they forgot to cap a fluid reservoir or something. He saw a three-dimensional cutaway drawing of the drilling mechanism on the monitor. The main shaft pulsed red. “What the hell?”
“That’s odd,” said Tyler, as he shut the machine’s engine down. He reset the diagnostic test, restarted the engine and again, engaged the drill head. Again, the test flagged the same part on the screen. “It didn’t have that problem when we pulled it out.”
Jake sighed heavily and shook his head in frustration. He knew better than to expect any kind of maintenance to go by without some problem.
Darren’s voice came over the com-sys. “Dinner’s up.”
“Okay, let’s leave this. We’ll do it tomorrow,” Jake said to Tyler. Both men stepped out of the machine and Tyler began putting away the tools. “Don’t worry about it, we’re just going to have to pull them out again tomorrow morning.”
In the kitchen, the team sat around the table and filled their plates with the leftovers. The meat supply was dwindling and with Clint needed in the work shed full-time, there was no time for hunting.
Finn carried a full plate of food to the door. “I’ll bring this to Ben.”
The door to the main tent opened and Ben floated through, sitting on the bodyboard with his legs extended in front of him. With his good arm, he propelled himself forward gingerly with a broom handle.
“Ben!” shrieked Maya, watching him slide effortlessly toward the group. She ran to him and snatched the broom handle from his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t sit in there all day. It’s driving me nuts. I’m feeling better and I don’t think walking’s going to kill me. But seeing as how you won’t let me, here I am. Now stand still.” With his good arm, he pushed off on her shoulder and floated smoothly down the row of tables, grabbing the corner of their usual table to stop. Using a button on the side of the board, he lowered the board so his leg brace could clear the underneath of the table top and pulled himself forward. He felt the board hit something and saw Lexi flinch. “Sorry, Lex! Alright. Who’s cutting up my spaghetti?”
Jake lay in bed unable to sleep. He lifted his good arm to look at his watch and remembered he had taken it off to work on the Mole. He made a mental note to grab it off the workbench first thing in the morning. Instead, he rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. 2:42. He stared at the ceiling of his trailer and thought about how crummy he would feel in a few hours if sleep failed to come. Pulling that shaft out would be a dusty, oily, yet intricate job, and he could not afford any more problems. He rolled to his other side and reached for the bedside lamp with the intent of reading the Moles’ operating manual, convinced it would knock him out faster than any drug. A flickering light reflecting on the living room wall caught his eye. Curious, he got out of bed and looked out the window. He saw a fire in the fire pit. He threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and left his trailer to investigate. He was surprised to find Clint sitting at the fire, poking it with a stick.
“Hey,” Jake sat down next to Clint. “Can’t sleep?”
Clint shook his head. “Fricking Darren. I think he made those damn coffee cookies with regular coffee and not decaf.”
Jake thought back to the four cookies he ate after dinner and suddenly his restlessness made sense.
The two men sat in silence for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Clint worried that Jake may think that now would be a good time for some male bonding. He knew Jake, Riley and Owen had reached out to him more than the others. A small part of him felt grateful, but at the same time, he resented their special treatment. He needed nothing from them and counted down the days until he could go home.
“Well, I’m out,” said Jake, as he stood and turned to walk away. “Try and get some sleep, eh?”
“Yeah, I think I’m done too. I’ll put this out.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.” Jake walked toward his trailer and, remembering his watch, turned and bee-lined to the work shed. As he entered the work shed, the lights came on automatically. Squinting to block out the light, he saw his watch sitting among the tools. He grabbed it and left before his eyes had a chance to adjust to the bright light.
Time Remaining: 17 Days
Jake woke early to get a jumpstart on Mole2. He worried that swapping out the problem shaft could take a full day, even with both him and Tyler tackling it, and he wanted to get a couple of hours in before
breakfast. As he walked through the camp, he could feel the warmth of the weak morning sun on his face. The weather had cooperated since the day of the rock collapse, and he was grateful that at least one thing was working in their favour.
When Jake threw the work shed door open, he found Riley and her team already hard at work. Nothing Riley did ever shocked Jake. Despite her private and humble nature, hushed stories of her accomplishments always found their way back home. Her fearless attitude, intelligence and combat abilities were talked about as much as her ability to work three days straight or plan ops so seamless that people wondered if she could see the future. Storytellers of the male persuasion never failed to mention she was gorgeous with a body of a seasoned triathlete. Jake could see her appeal, but at the same time, she scared the hell out of him. One of his wife’s best qualities had been how she needed him. After a hard day, she would tell him her troubles and he would listen and rub her back while she talked. He knew she could and would solve the problems, but it was being the one she turned to for reassurance that he loved. As for physical appearance, he loved her curves and the way he would come home from work and find her dancing around the living room with a baby on each hip.
Jake ducked and shimmied into the Mole’s control room and disengaged the power. As an added precaution, he hopped down the stairs and opened an access panel on the left rear corner of the machine and manually disconnected the power units. He went to the workbench to grab the tools he would need to disassemble the drill, but all of the tools Tyler had left out were put away. He smiled and turned to the toolbox, reflecting on Tyler’s immaculate nature; like Ben, he refused to leave his workspace cluttered at the end of the day. Jake opened the top drawer of the tool box to find it empty. That’s weird, he thought. He opened other drawers and they, too, were cleaned out. He rifled through the drawers of the other toolbox and found them empty as well. Finn.
“Okay, Finn, very funny,” said Jake, looking at Finn.
“What’s funny?” asked Finn.
“The tools?”
“What tools?” asked Finn, straightening up beside one of the guns.
“The tools? The one’s you took from the workbench and hid? Didn’t you take them as a practical joke?” A joke Jake could handle. What he did not have time for was someone playing dumb. Hiding several million dollars’ worth of tools was not amusing at the crunch time of a mission.
Finn looked puzzled. “I never touched them.”
“Finn?” Riley asked, looking sceptical. “Your reputation is preceding you.”
“No! I swear! Trust me, I’ll take the heat for any joke I’ve played, but I didn’t touch them.”
Jake’s face began to redden. “Finn, all of the tools are gone. This is serious shit,” said Jake, his voice louder than even he had anticipated. He ripped open the drawers of the nearest toolbox.
Riley took a step forward, placing herself between Jake and her sub. “Jake, if he said he didn’t do it, he didn’t do it.”
Jake thought for a moment and backed off. Finn was no liar. Sure, he would put a dead fish in the vent under your bed and turn on the heat, but beyond that, there was not a malicious bone in his body. His shoulders fell at the memory of the previous night when he left Clint alone at the fire, and how the tools were still in the shed when he grabbed his watch. With Riley, Finn and Owen still watching him, he rubbed his face with exasperation and looked at Riley. “We need to talk.”
Riley looked back at Owen and Finn. “Can you guys start setting that stuff up outside?”
After the door had closed behind her teammates, Riley spoke. “Look, Jake, I believe Finn. He wouldn’t do something like this at this stage of the op and if he had, he’d’ve owned up to it.”
Jake turned to look at her. “I don’t think it was Finn.” He explained the previous night—how he had been unable to sleep, finding Clint by the fire, then how he left and Clint stayed behind. How he stopped at the shed to get his watch and all the tools were still there.
Riley looked thoughtful for a moment after Jake had finished. “Has he stolen anything before?”
“No. Well, not that I’m aware of,” Jake replied. “I think he’s a difficult guy to work with, and not my first choice of person to be around, but I don’t think he’d steal.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “But then what the hell do I know? He’s so bloody unpredictable. I just don’t know what he’s capable of. I don’t have any physical proof; I don’t even have a gut feeling. It’s just the timing and how it looks. I don’t want to accuse him and be wrong. But on the other hand, I can’t not ask.”
Riley leaned back on the empty workbench and watched Jake rub his eyes in exasperation. “You absolutely have to ask, and asking isn’t accusing. If he’s put out by that, that’s his problem, not yours. Maybe there’s a legit reason.”
At that moment, Clint walked into the work shed carrying a steaming cup of coffee. “Morning, folks. Jake, did you get some sleep? I tossed around for another hour at least.”
“Clint, all the tools are missing.”
Clint walked over and set his coffee down on the Mole’s rear platform and opened the door to one of the mechanical compartments. The compartment door slid forward and up. He looked over at the empty tool bench and dawning comprehension washed over his face. “Ah. And are you accusing me of something?”
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” said Jake evenly.
Clint sipped his coffee and turned to face Jake. “Well, that’s a load of bull. You accused me when the WeatherShield went down, too. I had nothing to do with that and I had nothing to do with this.”
Within moments, simple questions had escalated into a yelling match. Owen stuck his head in the door and hearing the shouts, closed it again.
“I’ll have you know I saw someone walking around the camp last night. I assumed it was someone else who couldn’t sleep after eating that idiot’s fucking coffee cookies.”
“Just like you saw someone walking around the night the WeatherShield went down?” Jake was trying to remain unbiased, but Clint’s stories were getting tall and his attitude was not winning anyone’s support.
“Yes. But I guess you didn’t believe me then and apparently you didn’t believe me now.” Clint’s face shone an angry shade of red.
Owen entered the work shed, his floating crutch platform leaving a pencil’s width of space to spare on either side of the door frame. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I need to get the remote control for the gun. But I should mention that I also saw someone in the bushes the night the WeatherShield went down,” said Owen. All three sets of eyes turned to him. “I never really thought about it until hearing this. At the time, I just assumed it was one of the guys in the bushes relieving themselves. But come to think of it, when I came back to the fire, everyone was there except Clint. But as I sat down, he showed up. He’d just come from Mole Control, and there was no way he could have been in the bushes if he came from that direction. I never really put too much thought into it until now.”
“That’s bizarre,” said Riley after a few moments of silence. “Maybe it was some locals? Surely it’s possible some may be around.” Her thoughts were punctuated by a voice outside calling Jake. The door flew open and Lexi charged in.
“Jake,” said Lexi. She leaned forward with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. She had run to the tunnel and back again trying to find Jake, who had not yet put in his earpiece. “Jake, the perimeter alarm is down. Some of the sensors are offline.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jake swore under his breath.
Lexi, Jake and Riley jogged to Mole Control and Clint and Owen followed. Finn, waiting for Owen to return with the remote control, joined the parade. Lexi pointed to the flashing red errors on the monitor. The screen showed a three-dimensional drawing of the camp, trailers, trees and all. Three green dots on one side of the screen denoted where around the camp the sensors were located. Three blinking red dots showed where three other sensors sh
ould have been around the camp.
“How is it possible that three goddamn sensors are offline?” asked Jake. He shook his head. “This is unbelievable. How does this even happen? Lex, pull up the video of the camp from last night,” Jake asked firmly. “Scrub through to 3:00 A.M., please.”
Lexi fast-forwarded through the video. Despite speeding through the video, nothing on the screen changed. The video had been captured by a wide-angle camera attached to one of the hovering puck lights above the camp. It captured most of the camp clearly except for several shadowed areas. The left side of the screen showed the trailers, distorted into crescent shapes by the wide angle lens. Nothing changed on screen until the video’s timer showed 1:32 A.M., when a dark figured appeared out of the darkness by Ben and Clint’s trailer. The fast-forwarding made the person’s movements look comical as it sped across the screen to the fire pit between Mole Control and the main tent. A fire appeared like magic and the figure sat down. An hour on the video’s timer passed and another figure walked speedily from the living quarters to the fire pit and sat near the other figure. Within moments, the video showed Jake’s figure leaving the fire, walking into the work shed. The lights inside flashed, the figure left and walked toward the trailer beside the main tent and disappeared into its shadow.
“Okay, slow it down a bit,” asked Jake, leaning in. Everyone leaned into the monitor. They saw Clint stand nearly ten minutes after Jake’s figure had left the screen. Clint, as he had described, left the fire and entered the main tent, returning a few moments later with a large stock pot and poured water on the fire. Clint watched the fire for several moments then stirred the ashes with a stick to make sure the fire was entirely extinguished. He then returned to the main tent with the stock pot and exited again, no pot. He walked toward the trailer closest to the food pantry and, like Jake, disappeared into the darkness.
“See! I told you I didn’t do it!” exclaimed Clint. While the video proved most of Clint’s story to be true as he had recounted it, there was no way to tell if either man actually entered their respective trailer. As soon as both men neared the trailers, they were swallowed by the darkness. Although Jake wanted to believe Clint, he still looked like the most likely suspect.
Lexi continued to fast-forward through the video and nothing changed until 4:37 A.M., when another figure appeared in the camp.
“Holy shit,” breathed Jake.
Lexi returned the video to normal speed and the group huddled around the monitor to get a better look. The silhouetted figure walked across the camp from between Mole Control and the main tent, toward the work shed. The figure seemed to be male—his shoulders were not large for a man, but too broad to be a woman. Everyone held their breath, knowing they would get a glimpse of his face the moment he crossed the threshold to enter, triggering the lights. In anticipation, Lexi zoomed in.
“What’s he doing?” Jake asked rhetorically. The person opened the door a fraction, just enough to slide his arm in and reach around for the light switch. “What the hell? He hit the override light switch. Lex, pause and zoom in more, please. Maybe if we see what he’s wearing that will give us a clue.”
“It looks like a field op uniform,” said Riley, after Lexi had enlarged the video. She leaned over Lexi for a closer look at the image frozen on the screen. “We all have at least two of those outfits. So someone wearing an outfit that matches our field op uniforms and knows enough about our portable buildings to know there’s an override light switch just inside the door, is our culprit.”
The figure on the screen disappeared into the building. After the door had closed, light shone through the small windows on the overhead doors. Two minutes and thirty-nine seconds later, the light switched off and the man exited carrying a box no larger than a shoebox.
“Lex, pull up the DNA on this guy. Is he in our system?”
Lexi hesitated before answering. “We can’t access the database from here.”
Jake swore loudly. He was tired of being thwarted at every turn. “So what do we have on this guy?”
“Just this video, and maybe we can get some fingerprints off the perimeter alarm sensors if they’re still around.”
“Okay, Lexi, scour this video for any clues. Report back to me by lunch. I want to know everything you see, no matter how unimportant it seems. Clint, I want you manually operating the drill. Treat it well. Until we get those damn tools back, it’s our only Mole. Keep it running.” He slid his earpiece into his ear. “Keep an eye on that hot spot. If any other problems crop up in that damn drill, shut it down before they turn into full-blown catastrophes.”
Clint said nothing and walked out the door. Jake had marvelled at Clint’s unrivalled intuition for the Moles, and if anyone could keep the drill running without aggravating its trouble areas, it would be him. Jake was torn. He debated sending Lexi down to run the drill so he could keep his eye on Clint as he was still his most likely suspect. Even the height and body type of the intruder’s body on the screen looked like Clint, but that was hardly a smoking gun. If Clint was the culprit, sending the man trying to sabotage their mission to work with the only operational Mole seemed like an appallingly terrible decision. With Ben unable to work, the team could not afford to lose another body.
Owen and Finn filed out of the trailer after Clint. Jake watched the pair return to their work in the centre of the clearing and Clint disappeared down the path leading to the tunnel. “Rile, we’ve got a security problem,” Jake said.
“Tell me about it.” She motioned to the door. “Let’s look for those perimeter sensors.”
Jake and Riley walked the camp’s boundary to the various sensors’ locations. The reporting screen showed that three sensors were offline but made no reference as to whether they were turned off, broken or, worse, missing.
Jake found the first offline sensor in its original location, just beyond the entrance to the tunnel. The long and narrow sensor had been pushed over and had come out of the ground. Jake swore under his breath when he saw the glass sensor detached from the body. He picked up the stake and the circuit board and glass sensor hung limply from the top by several wires. He swore under his breath.
Riley inspected the sensor. “Hold on, I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks. I think it’s just come apart.” She took the sensor from him. “I’ve seen this before. These casings are so shitty. Any kind of knock and the top falls off and the insides pop out like a stripper jumping out of a cake.” Riley inspected the circuit board before settling it back into its housing recessed into the top of the stake. Seeing the wires were still attached and not damaged, she coiled them carefully on top of the circuit board. She placed the glass sensor face on the top of the stake and hit it hard with the heel of her hand. The sensor clicked as the two pieces fell into place and she returned it back to Jake.
The pair spent nearly an hour looking for the other two sensors with no success. Jake called off the search and headed to Mole Control to see how Clint was fairing with the active Mole.
Riley returned to the centre of the camp with Finn and Owen. The testing tank was set to its normal size, similar to a double car garage, so as to accommodate the three guns at their full size. Owen and Finn waited for Riley to return before testing the guns.
“Not a moment too soon,” said Riley looking at the sky. The morning’s promising blue sky had changed quickly as thick, dark clouds rolled in. She looked at Finn. “Ready?”
Finn nodded and pressed the controller’s red button. Again, the guns stood lifeless inside the tank. Riley swore and kicked an empty crate.
In a fit of drama, Finn fell to his knees holding his arms up to the sky, the guns’ remote control in his hand. He shook his fists and yelled into the air. “Wwwwwwhyyyyyyy?”
“Uh, Finn?” Finn looked up at Owen standing beside him. Owen’s expression wore the vacant, somewhat cross-eyed and unmistakable look of a person reading something projected in front of them by the Icomm contacts. “Did you tie the guns to the remote? I’m
looking at the list of detected dependents tied to the remote and I don’t see any zeno ray guns listed here.”
Within seconds, Finn also wore the same empty expression. “Well. That’s embarrassing.” The remote control beeped three times as it detected the three guns. Finn stood up quickly and acted as if the last twenty seconds had never happened. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”
“Idiot.” Riley pretended to strangle him.
Finn pressed the button on the remote and the familiar red haze filled the tank.
Time Remaining: 16 Days
“Jake,” called Clint over the com-sys. Clint’s demeanour had remained cordial since Jake had questioned him about the perimeter sensor incident. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
Jake sat in Mole Control, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. He already knew the bad news; the monitor in front of him showed the three-dimensional schematic of the active Mole. A pulsing, red object flashed inside the schematic drawing. Ben’s fix had finally given out. The cooling system no longer cooled, and the engine was threatening to overheat. Mole1 was finished unless the tools were found.
“I can see the bad news. What’s the good news?”
“We’re level with the Elevanium deposit.”
The day ended on a far better note than it began. While the news of the last remaining Mole overheating was bad, the break was long overdue and Jake was impressed with how long Clint had managed to keep the drill running. What worried Jake was the bigger problem. Unless the tools miraculously returned, neither Mole would be operational and they would need to manually remove the rock surrounding the deposit. Jake made sure the team came prepared for blasting should it be required as a last resort. However, after the rock collapse, Jake wanted to do as little blasting as possible. He hoped that at least one of the Moles would be fixed soon to complete the excavation that would expose the deposit, but that was looking unlikely.
Jake took this milestone as an opportunity to celebrate. The team needed a boost in morale—so many things had gone wrong. And now with proof of someone trying to thwart them, the team needed a success to rally around.
Darren pulled sizzling burger patties off the barbecue and set them on the picnic table beside the fire pit. The ravenous piranhas seated patiently at the table dove in.
“Savour these burgers. This is the last of the meat,” Darren warned. “It’s all pasta and veggie dishes from now on. Or HOPs if you’re really desperate.”
At these words, Finn pretended to gag. “Clint, you’re going to have to go hunting again!”
Clint had fallen into one of his sullen moods, and the conversation moved forward when it became apparent he had ignored Finn’s comment. After his meltdown over Darren’s cooking nearly a week ago, Jake’s patience for Clint’s moods was wearing thin. His growing desire to remove Clint from the op conflicted with his desperate need for the moody son of a bitch to continue working. The loss of another team member could jeopardize the operation. Jake knew Riley’s patience with Clint had run out not long after her team’s arrival. She had made it clear that she would rather work twenty-hour days than jeopardize the success of the operation with an unreliable key player.
As dinner wound down, the sun fell behind the lake. With the warmth of the sun’s rays gone, the air became chilly, though it went unnoticed as the celebratory drinks flowed freely. For the first time in ages, the team could relax and enjoy each other’s company. The stress of the past few weeks melted away as the group laughed off their endless problems. Even Clint had warmed up enough to play charades.
Only Jake and Riley remained at the picnic table and the pair discussed how best to proceed with the blasting the next day. Jake looked up at the sound of Clint’s raised voice. The game had ended and the group began a discussion about recent legislation that had revoked the right of an intoxicated individual to pilot a flying car, despite the autopilot setting. Jake watched Clint as he spoke; he gesticulated fiercely and his voice frequently grew louder than the conversation warranted. Tyler, Maya and Darren left the conversation and moved their chairs to the opposite side of the fire. Clint reached into the cooler at Jake and Riley’s feet and pulled out another beer. Jake stood and took the beer out of Clint’s hand.
“We’ve got an early morning coming tomorrow and I need you on your A-game.”
“It’s just one beer.” He took back the can of beer, cracked it open and took a sip.
Jake grabbed the can out of Clint’s hand and dumped it on the ground. He pointed to the seven cans beneath Clint’s chair. “It’s not just one beer, it’s eight.”
The team sitting around the fire stopped their conversations and looked over. Riley stood up. “Why don’t you guys take this somewhere else,” she said, discreetly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clint bowed to her condescendingly, “am I upsetting your perfect little team?”
“Clint…” Jake grabbed Clint warningly by the arm and pulled him away from Riley and the group, but Clint broke free of his grip and stood eye to eye with Riley.
“You make me sick,” he spat angrily at Riley. “You’re not as great as everyone makes you out to be. I don’t know what everyone sees in you. Riley Morgan is nothing but a Grade A bitch. I don’t know how you got to be a level six. You probably slept your way up because you’re nothing but a…” Clint stopped as the corners of Riley’s mouth turned up. “What, is this funny?”
Riley spoke very slowly and quietly. “I think you should listen to your lead. I think you’ve got enough problems that you don’t need a Grade A bitch making your life even more miserable. Be a good boy and go with your lead.”
Riley’s response incensed Clint and to everyone’s surprise, he took a swing at her. She caught his fist in midair, twisted it around and behind his back, pushed him to the ground and dug her knee into his back. Clint spat grass and dirt out of his mouth. She put weight on his pinned arm as she leaned down and spoke in his ear.
“Listen to me very carefully. This team has been nothing but friendly and patient with you. Jake has given you far more chances than I ever would have. Let’s gets a few things straight, right now. You now have a curfew of 19:00 hours for the rest of this op. If you put one toe out of line, I have no problem personally making your life a living hell for the next fifteen days and then ending your career when we get back. You got that?” Clint said nothing. Riley grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. “You got that, sub?” she said again, this time louder.
“Yes,” he squeaked.
“Stand up.” She barked the order as she released him. The team around the fire pit nearly jumped to attention out of reflex. Clint stood at attention in front her, his eyes looking over her head. She snapped her fingers in his face. “Right here. Look at me.”
Clint’s eyes zigzagged back and forth and finally locked on Riley’s, whose honed in on him like a laser. She held his gaze for over ten seconds before speaking. “Do we have an understanding, sub?”
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. Fear flashed in his widened eyes.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re dismissed. It’s past your curfew.”
Finn leaned over to Owen and whispered so only Owen could hear. “I hope for your sake that you don’t ever piss her off.”