Minutes to Burn by Gregg Hurwitz Read Free Book Online Page B

other soldiers.
    Szabla snorted. “Listen, girl. After going through something like he went—”
    Derek rounded the corner, pulling off his jacket. “Sorry I’m late.” At six foot four, Derek was surprisingly unintimidating, especially for someone built like a linebacker and trained extensively to kill other peo-ple. Barrel-chested, arms stretching his shirtsleeves at his biceps, he tapered in, almost impossibly, to a slim waist before expanding again through his powerful quads. His full cheeks would have made him look young were they not generally covered with stubble.
    He nodded at Justin and hooked Cameron’s neck with a hand, yank-ing her forward on her toes. “It’s good to see you, Cam.” His eyes drifted, then focused. “Really good to see you.” He turned to Justin with a smile. “So how do you feel about me stealing my old swim buddy here back for the mission?”
    Justin shrugged. “Take my wife, please.”
    Derek turned to Cameron and winked. “You should get yourself a real man.”
    Justin laughed. “That’s what I keep telling her.”
    Derek nodded at Tucker, then smacked Tank on the shoulder. Tank didn’t move.
    “Hey, LT.” Szabla leaned over, offering her hand to Derek. He slapped it, and they locked hands for a moment.
    Derek strode over to Savage and glanced him up and down. Savage didn’t bother to meet his eyes. “Why don’t you introduce yourself to the platoon?”
    Savage ignored him. Derek leaned in close until his face was inches from Savage’s. Savage met his eyes evenly. Leaning back against the wall, he made no effort to rise to a more protective posture. Finally, his eyes flickered to the others. “We got seven men.” He looked at Cameron, then at Szabla. “Make that five. That ain’t a platoon. That’s three shy of a half.”
    “For all practical purposes, it’s a squad, and I’ll run it as such.” Derek paused, straightened up. “I gave you an order.”
    Savage ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, his blue eyes hard like bits of sea-washed glass. “Savage,” he said. “William Savage.”
    “Are you shitting me?” Justin said. “Savage? Yeah, okay buddy.” He turned to Derek. “If he’s Savage, then I get to be Harddick.”
    “And I wanna be Dickwrench,” Szabla added. “Or something.”
    “You already are,” Justin smirked. Szabla flipped him off.
    “If you’re having trouble with the name,” Savage said, running a hand over the stubble beneath his beard, “I can carve it on your forehead for you.”
    “Yeah, try not to knock over your walker as you head over here,” Justin said. He laughed, shaking his head. “Savage. That’s great. That’s fucking brilliant.”
    A mother walking with her two kids saw the group of soldiers up ahead and ushered her kids across the street to avoid them. They turned into Roosevelt Park and the children sprinted ahead onto the soccer fields, laughing.
    Savage reached out, sliding his fingers down behind Justin’s ear before Justin knocked his hand away. Savage rubbed his fingertips together, then smelled them. “Still a little wet.”
    “Oh?” Justin said, slightly flushed. “Not up to par with your Civil War comrades?”
    “Vietnam. Team ONE, Bravo Platoon, sixty-gunner.”
    “I thought we’d forgotten about all the Vietnam vets,” Szabla said. “Wasn’t that national policy?”
    “You fuckin’ candy-ass whore—”
    “Candy-ass whore.” Szabla whistled. “Nice, this is nice. Where’d you find this one, LT? Recruiting in prisons?”
    “Actually, yes,” Derek said. A thick silence settled over the soldiers. Savage grinned vengefully.
    “Fuck,” Tank said.
    Cameron tapped Derek on the arm. “Can I have a minute here, please?” Derek followed her across the street to the park. Cameron slowed down near the playground, setting her foot in the bucket of a swing. “What’s going on, Derek?” she asked.
    He didn’t respond, so she just looked at him, hard and steady. Finally, he