Chapter 7
“What the hell you up to, man?” Anton jostled him awake with an elbow to the ribs, too hard to be an accident.
Still in the plane. Still night. Scattered lights far below said they were still at cruise altitude.
“Ugh! You’re an ugly mug to wake up to.” Ricardo rubbed his eyes and tried to make sense of the change. He’d been holding Michelle’s hand. Finally feeling at peace for the first time since forever, he’d been lulled by that ultimate sleep aid for any Spec Ops soldier, the soft roar of a jet engine prior to a mission. And he’d woken to—
“Hey! I like this ugly mug.”
“I’d rather be looking at your sister’s. Way prettier than you.”
“Yeah, she got all the beauty and I got all the brawn. Just don’t be saying that kinda s**t around me, okay?”
“Why not?”
“Look, Ricardo, I
