“Where’s Dutch?” he asked.
“He and Razor are working on a profile of Kilbourne.”
“Do you think she’s the one who set up Alegria.”
“Only logical explanation at this point. There’s no intel indicating another American woman’s involvement,” said Doc.
Mantis went in search of Dutch and found him with Striker and Razor, and Striker was doing all the talking. Mantis rapped on the window, and Razor motioned him in.
“Hey, man,” he said to Dutch, who stood, and they hugged, thumping each other hard on the back. “Damn good to see you.”
“Same here, you jackass.”
Mantis laughed. “I try to save your sorry ass, and you call me names,” he joked. “Seriously though, thanks for ending the Safi bloodline.”
“You can thank him,” said Dutch, pointing at Razor. “He was a man on a mission as far as taking Zamed out.”
“Bastards all of ’em,” muttered Razor. He and Striker looked like they were waiting for him to leave so they could get back to whatever they had been talking about before he came in.
“I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Where’re you goin’?” asked Razor, pointing to a chair. “Sit your ass down here.”
“Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Striker’s briefing us on Kilbourne’s mission.”
Mantis’ eyes opened wider. “What is it?”
“The Pakistani Taliban began recruiting women in the middle of last year. The Islamic State, as hard as it is for them to accept women as human beings, is realizing that for them to keep their dwindling numbers up, they’re going to have to do the same thing.”
Mantis had heard about the recruitment tactics encouraging women to spread a fundamentalist message and support holy war. The idea that they could be trained to keep a pistol and a grenade, while supporting their husbands and promoting and living the teachings of the prophet Muhammad, had them signing up in droves.
“Kilbourne has been recruited as a trainer,” said Striker. “We don’t know whether she set Dutch up for recapture, but it seems likely as a means to prove her loyalty.”
“Exactly what I thought about her facilitating Alegria’s kidnapping,” added Razor. “If she had refused, she’d be dead. Doing anything other than what they asked of her would not only blow her cover, it would end her life.”
“Do you think it’s personal?” asked Dutch.
“Not remotely so,” answered Striker. “In fact, I think she would’ve walked away from you if you hadn’t ended your relationship with her when you did. This mission has been in the works for well over a year. She was scheduled to leave shortly after Mantis did.”
“Huh,” responded Dutch, scratching his chin.
“You’re not the Casanova you thought you were,” taunted Razor.
“What’s next, then?” Mantis asked.
“We go get Alegria the hell out of there,” Razor answered.
“Who’s on the team?” Mantis prayed Razor would include him. Sitting here, powerless to help rescue the woman he loved, would drive him insane. If anything went wrong, God forbid, he’d forever blame himself.
Razor looked back and forth between him and Dutch. “I want both of you on this, but I have to know you’re committed—”
“Committed? Hell, we—”
“Jesus Christ,” said Striker to Dutch. “You’re as bad as Mantis. Shut the fuck up and listen to what Razor has to say.”
“Don’t question my commitment. Not fucking ever.”