Free Direct Action - 03 by Jack Murphy Page B

actions. Sitting around with nothing to do over long periods of time made him uncomfortable, but he knew how to manage it. There was an onboard refrigerator, so he helped himself to a bottle of water.
    Deckard watched out the window as they landed several hours later. The terrain was fairly flat with low-laying vegetation and blacktop roads crisscrossing throughout. Disoriented, Deckard had no idea where they were. They landed at a substantial modern airport with a large terminal complex. The private jet taxied off towards the private hangers where a white van was waiting for them. Everyone piled in. If this was another operation, it didn't feel like it.
    They exited from the private aircraft area's gate and out into the countryside. The road was surrounded on both sides by green rolling hills, sugarcane coming right up to the edge of the pavement and pressing out into the street. Palm trees also dotted the landscape. As they drove through the outskirts of a city, Deckard spotted a Hindu temple and knew he must be somewhere in India. Then he saw a Christian church and finally a Muslim mosque.
    Now, he was really confused.
    Further inland were green-covered mountains stretching up to touch the blue sky.Deep into the stalks of sugarcane he also saw a few abandoned factories and other structures. It wasn't until he saw a billboard in French for a cellphone service that he figured it out. They were in Mauritius, an island in the Indian Ocean.
    The van swerved through an intersection and passed the entrance to several four-star hotels. They got dropped off right alongside the ocean. Waves broke against the shore and the sun was already sinking into a blue and purple sky. The smell of salt carried on the breeze. It was a residential area with bungalows lining the beach.
    “Party is at my place tonight,” Bill announced. “See you then.”
    The team bombshelled in both directions down the street.
    “You come with me Deckard,” Bill said to the new guy on the team. “I have to give you the key to Henderson's old place.”
    Bill led him on a stone path to his beach house. The Liquid Sky team leader was so tall that he had to duck under the roof on the back deck. Deckard spotted a security guard roaming the premises. Punching a number into the keypad on the door, Bill led him inside. Like the other bungalows, it was a one-story deal, but spread out with plenty of interior space. The kitchen and living room was wide open. He had pool tables and an indoor bar. Through the sliding glass doors, Deckard could see an extensive gym out on the front deck, which was littered with kettlebells and 45-pound bumper plates.
    Opening a drawer under the kitchen counter, Bill shuffled through some odds and ends until he found a key ring and handed it to Deckard.
    “You are two houses down, between Rick and Zach. We own this whole row of eight houses on the shore. Whatever Henderson had stowed away inside the house is yours I guess. No one back in the States gave a shit about him. Keep it or throw it in the trash; I don't care. He traveled light anyway so it won't be much.”
    “All right.”
    “Our rules here are pretty basic. We work hard; we play hard. Mandatory team party tonight just like after every op we do. PT is on your own, but we usually work out together. When our optempo slows down you can catch a plane to wherever you want until I recall you, but I'm not sure when that will be. Shit has been picking up the last month with no sign of slowing down.”
    “It's a dangerous world.”
    “And they need us to stop it from all coming apart at the seams. We'll work on getting you set up with a bank account here on the island later on so you can get direct deposits. Mauritius is a tax haven and we got a good set up here.”
    “I like the sound of that.”
    “Go do what you have to do and I'll see you in a few hours.”
    As Deckard turned away, Bill had one final item to add.
    “Deckard, remember that you are still on probationary status