Tight Quarters (Out of Uniform 6)

“Wait. What?” Spencer didn’t sound alarmed as much as pissed. “Something’s gone wrong. They’re in danger—”

“And so are we. Trust me, I want to go investigate, every bit as much as you.”

“We could help.” Spencer grabbed at Bacon’s sleeve.

“I know. But I’m not going to face a court martial for disobeying orders. We’re on our own now. We have to trust the team to take care of business.”

He fucking hated this. The team needed his shooting skills, now more than ever. But as much as he wanted to play hero, he wasn’t about to throw away his career even though this plan sucked donkey balls. It was the get-Spencer-out-alive-at-all-costs plan, and he was the only one who could execute it.

Chapter Ten

Spencer’s heart galloped like he was at the starting line for a triathlon. They were on their own. Something had clearly gone very wrong, but instead of fixing it like every cell in his body screamed to, they had to beat a retreat. That didn’t sit well with him at all.

“We can’t—”

“Listen. We’re going to have to work together to get through this.” Bacon put a strong hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Being an observer sucks.” Spencer couldn’t help his growl. They didn’t have time for an argument, but it still sucked.

“I’m going to go first. You’re going to stick close.” Dropping his hand, Bacon pulled his weapon off his back, checked it. At least he got a gun. Spencer didn’t even get that.

“Don’t suppose you’d give me your pistol?” He’d seen Bacon get ready and knew he had both the larger weapon he was holding and a smaller gun in a leg holster.

“No chance.” Bacon gave him what looked to be a wry smile—the night-vision googles made it very hard to make out expressions, which further frustrated him.

Bacon removed a compass from his vest, checked it with a sharp nod. “Let’s go. Watch your footing.”

In the distance, Spencer swore he could hear gunfire. Fuck. This wasn’t good at all. This had been planned as a covert, silent exercise. What had gone so wrong?

“Do you think—” he started but Bacon whirled on him.

“Sssh,” he hissed.

Duly chastened by the reminder that talking could be deadly, Spencer followed Bacon. The night-vision goggles were challenging—they didn’t create daylight so much as just shadows in stark relief with an eerie green glow. And in a jungle where everything was green to start with, it was hard to discern where to step.

They hiked deeper into the jungle, no more view of the encampment beneath them or the village by the beach. Animal rustling sounds kept the night from being too quiet, but also put him on edge because he didn’t know when something nocturnal might land on him. He was contemplating what he’d do if a monkey swooped out of a tree when Bacon whirled on him.

“Down. Now.” He shoved Spencer roughly to the jungle floor. Fuck. Maybe that hadn’t been monkeys moving about at all. Now, he was hyper alert, listening for the sound of footsteps.

“Someone’s up ahead.” Bacon reported in a whisper. Using his comm set, Bacon whispered urgently, but the channel remained dead. He cursed. “Fuck. No way to know whether they’re friendlies.”

On his stomach, Bacon crept forward, and Spencer followed suit. Coming to the top of a hill, they had limited view of a clearing ahead of them. Two clearly human shapes lurked at the far edge of the clearing, hands gesturing wildly even though each clutched a weapon.

“Shit. Okay. We’re just going to hunker down here,” Bacon whispered. “Not our guys. Too short. Not English.”

“Okay.” Spencer had barely breathed the word when something whizzed overhead. “What?”

“Sssh.” Bacon took the safety off his weapon with an audible click. He turned his body, and Spencer followed suit. Fuck. A third shape standing sentry was aiming a large gun their general direction. That person yelled something to the others, all of whom hurried over. Spencer couldn’t make out the words, but from the gesturing, the sentry was telling the others to go search. Two of the guys wore goggles, but the other had a lantern flipped on. They started toward—

Us. Spencer didn’t have a chance to register the thought before shots rang out in rapid succession. Ahead of him, Bacon’s breathing had slowed and his hands were steady on his weapon as he dropped each of the three would-be-searchers. Like seriously, dropped them. The third guy managed to get a wild shot off before he fell, right next to his friends.

“Fast. To the other side of the clearing. Others will be looking for these three.” Bacon dragged him up, past his shock. “Run.”

On some sort of autopilot level he didn’t know he had, Spencer sprinted after Bacon. “You just—”

“Save it. You can freak out when we’re on the water.”

As they moved quickly through the clearing and back into the dense vegetation, Bacon was muttering into the comm set, trying to report what had happened, but judging by his curses, he wasn’t having any luck.