22
Tango Torres stood at the open passenger door, the frame edge in one hand and his M9 pistol in the other.
“How did it all go to s**t so quickly?”
No one answered him, of course. The gunners were gone, even the one who’d snuck up behind them in the cockpit. No chance to identify who.
Rosa too. That wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d been tasked with making sure they dumped everyone else except herself.
She’d been two-timing him with Gutz?
That was the total shits.
He hoped Gutz was miserable in the sack.
Had been…
Shit!
Sharing the same holes, even with his best friend, was just a gross thought.
And now his best friend was dead too. Gutz had tried to shoot him. Over a piece of tail! Even one as fine as Rosa’s shouldn’t have made that happen.
Well, he still had to save the plane
