Free Z-Minus (Book 4) by Perrin Briar Page B

skills I have. Tabby’s club is always looking for new security. It’s not glamorous, but it would be fine until I find something better.”
    But he knew he was unlikely to find anything better, not within a company anyway. They turned former service members away almost as callously as former prisoners.
    “There you are,” John said with a smile. “You’re following orders already, like a good Jarhead.”
    He turned to look over at Daoud, lying on his moss bed with his eyes closed.
    “Do you think we can trust him?” John said.
    “We have to,” Mark said. “He’s one of our team now.”
    John grumbled something under his breath about wishing it was Daoud who was infected and not Jacob.
    “Do you want me to take first watch?” he said.
    “No, I’ll take it,” Mark said. “Take a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”
    John climbed onto his own bed, rolled over, and within moments he was still.
    Mark stared out at the forest. His mind went to, of all things, the tour he’d recently completed in Ebola-infected West Africa. Something about his situation with Tabitha reminded him of it. Perhaps it was the feeling of being trapped, of a hopeless situation. Or maybe it was just because he was afraid.

TWO MONTHS EARLIER
     
    An appointment in Africa as a Special Forces soldier was one akin to babysitting. This made it no less dangerous than if it was a warzone, and in some ways made it even more dangerous. In a warzone you knew to keep your head, to always be aware of what was happening around you. Constant vigilance. But in an area such as Liberia, often at peace, but with the constant itch of civil unrest, war was a waiting game. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or in the wrong state of mind, was a death sentence.
    Along the coast of Liberia was the city of Monrovia. In 2014, it was inflicted with some of the worst cases of Ebola on the continent. The Special Forces team was sent in to oversee security and ensure a semblance of stability in the city.
    A gang of young black children often scrambled for the soldiers’ attention, with handfuls of beads and other trinkets. The soldiers ignored them for the most part, and waved them away when they got under their feet. Anywhere else they would have considered themselves lucky to get just a clip around the ear. Sparing the rod at the US camp had spoiled the kids with a sense of arrogance.
    “You buy?” they said as one. “Please sir, you buy?”
    “Scram,” Mark said.
    He turned and headed into a tent. The crowd of children, used to rejection, moved on to another target. But one boy remained. He was short for his age, skinny, his ribs showing through his torn shirt. The boy looked up and down the road before following Mark into the tent.
    The heat was oppressive, even with multiple fans blowing. But the video images were diluted by sunlight, and needed darkness.
    Mark stood at a laptop. Tabitha was onscreen.
    “How now brown cow?” Mark said.
    “Hey, baby!” Tabitha said. “How is it over there?”
    “It’s fine,” Mark said. “How is it over there?”
    “Hot,” Tabitha said.
    “You don’t know hot till you come over here,” Mark said.
    “I was thinking about that,” Tabitha said. “Maybe I could come over there. You know, for a couple of weeks.”
    “Baby, we’ve been over this,” Mark said. “You’ll get bitten by a mosquito, and that’ll be the end of you, and I can’t have that. What would I do without you?”
    “I don’t know,” Tabitha said. “What have you been doing without me? A lot of self-abuse, I take it? I’m tougher than you think.”
    “You’re a whole lot tougher than me,” Mark said. “But I can’t stand it over here, and neither would you.”
    “Maybe you’re right,” Tabitha said. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”
    Mark’s eyes widened.
    “You forgot, didn’t you?” Tabitha said.
    “No, honey,” Mark said. “Of course not.”
    He clicked his fingers, keeping his eyes on the camera, and