Free Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I) by Linda Andrews Page A

rations and pouches of water. After closing the pack, he tucked the Sig-Sauer between a hand-cranked flashlight and radio.
    Hot damn!
    If he couldn’t love this woman, he should just eat his gun.
    “The bolt cutters should be under the Pup tent.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” He lifted the tent from its place. The orange-handled bolt cutters lay on top of the soft-sided first aid kit. He lifted them out. Maybe if she was single, she wouldn’t mind camping around with him. Sure he’d crowd the pup tent, but he’d let her sleep on top of him. Lowering the trunk, he walked toward the threesome. They parted before him, leaving the square lock illuminated in the Humvee’s lights.
    “If you could cut just the lock, then we’ll get out of the way.” She pointed to the lock. “We don’t want to cause you any trouble with the CO.”
    “Never mind the CO, Ma’am.” David snugged the snips around the shackle and squeezed. His arms trembled as the blades slid through the metal. Too bad his Active Combat Uniform was so loose that his biceps couldn’t be seen. The lock dropped with a pop then the chain rattled to the asphalt. “I’ll make sure to exfiltrate this route.”
    He didn’t mention that it was illegal to block the roadway. People had a right to protect their property. God knew, the government was more concerned about keeping businesses safe than its citizens. He pivoted on his heel and faced her.
    “Much obliged.” She held out her hand.
    Instead of the bolt cutters, he slid his free palm against hers.
    Her eyes widened and he could have sworn her pupils dilated despite being in the headlights. It was an encouraging sign.
    “Not a problem.” He held her hand a heartbeat longer than necessary before releasing her and offering his hand to the old man.
    “Take care, Sergeant Major.” The old man’s grip tightened before he bent over to cough. His face turned a bright red before he stopped. After spitting a wad of phlegm, he straightened. “Emphysema.”
    David resisted the urge to retreat and cover his mouth. A heartbeat later, common sense reasserted itself. The man had smoker’s cough not the Redaction. He let out a shaky breath and offered his hand to the boy.
    “Dude,” the kid said, thumping his closed fist against David’s palm.
    When he’d finished the hand jive du jour, David raised the bolt cutters. “I’ll just put these back in the trunk and let you be on your way.”
    Pivoting about, he marched to the Civic’s trunk. He’d also read her plates to run them when he got back to base. Then all he’d need was an excuse to see her again.
    After tucking the tool under the pup tent, he shut the trunk and looked up. The boy and old man had reached the ladder. The Civic’s engine started and warm exhaust puffed near his leg. She checked the rearview mirror before easing forward. His focus dropped to her license plate when she drifted forward. BugDr2.
    God had a special place in his heart for enlisted men. Whistling under his breath, David jogged back to the idling Humvee. Opening the door, David tossed his helmet and gun onto the passenger seat and climbed behind the wheel.
    “That took too long, Sergeant Major.”
    “Yes, Sir.” Instead of giving Colonel Asshole a one-fingered salute, David shifted the Humvee into gear. He hoped whatever woman who’d drawn the short straw tonight would put a smile on the CO’s face. When he checked the rearview mirror, he noticed the facemask.
    Cold air snaked down David’s spine and the hairs on his arm scratched the inside of his jacket.
    “That old man coughed, didn’t he?”
    “Yes, Sir. Smoker’s cough, Sir.”
    The CO adjusted the mask’s ties. “That’s what they said before the Redaction hit.”
    Well, shit. He twisted his grip on the steering wheel. Weren’t the little guys always the last to know? David tapped the GPS on the dash until it faced him. Not that he needed to. He’d memorized the route and destination since his butt had been