Tasha watched as the four men strode into the large building that had been tasked for her use. It was empty except for a table with four deadly looking rifles and a few pieces of other gear lying on it. The men had signed up yesterday, and today they were starting their training. The first thing she needed to do was find out what she had to work with.

As they walked across the polished concrete floor, they were looking fine in their polished boots, fatigue pants, and tight Air Force t-shirts. She’d asked them to wear the t-shirts so they would blend in. Now they were just three more members of the U.S. Air Force. The less people suspected something was going on out here in the boneyard, the better. The three wouldn’t look out of place to the casual passersby on base, but they were still clearly military. That was the first thing she was going to change. With their swagger and close-cropped hair, all four positively screamed military, even out of uniform.

Airman Fug had taken her out and showed her around last night. Tasha was based out of Fort Meade, in Maryland, and this was her first trip to Arizona. Fug had taken her to a local watering spot and they’d shared a few beers. The woman was smart and had already put together she was there for the same reason Dan, Rich, Derrick and Thom were, but she had stopped prying when Tasha had explained what she was doing was classified.

Instead, they’d spent an hour eating Texmex, drinking beer, and giggling over the four men. Out of the forty who had volunteered, these were the top four. She’d seen their service records, and Dan’s had been particularly interesting. He’d scored off the charts on empathy. He absolutely would not leave a man behind, and he was terrific at using guile to slip away, which was exactly what this team needed. She’d hand-picked him.

It wasn’t surprising, considering his job. He’d had a tough mission about a year ago. He’d been sent in to pull the crew out of a downed C-130, and the mission had gone to hell. His chopper had been shot out of the sky, but he’d hiked it out with the lone survivor, only to lose her at the last moment in a gunfight. It had been a shit mission from the start, but he’d nearly pulled it off.

Not only was Dan different in temperament, he also didn’t look like the other three. All four men were between 5’11” and 6’1”, but where Derrick, Rich, and Thom looked like powerlifters or professional wrestlers, Dan looked more like a gymnast. He was well-built and toned but without the mass. Fug had a serious case of the hots for the three big men, but she preferred less bulky men, like Dan. She especially liked his green eyes because they were almost the same color as hers.

She watched them approach. Tech-Sergeant Daniel Thames might be more her type, but goddamn, all four of these men were hot.

She shoved the thoughts out of her mind. Time to get down to business. Yesterday, she’d been dressed to impress, but today she wore her ‘work’ clothes—a pair of jeans and a loose white blouse to help with the desert heat. She’d pulled her hair up in a ponytail for the same reason.

Every shithole they were likely to have to go into was either in the fucking desert or the fucking rainforest, so they would train in the Arizona heat. Davis-Monthan offered them plenty of room, plenty of buildings, and plenty of airplanes to play with.

“Gentlemen. Today we’re going to play a little game. I call it ‘hide and seek.’ Somewhere out there is Airman Fug. I borrowed her for this little exercise. She’s being hunted by a bunch of bad-asses intent on torturing her to extract information. Your job is to find her and get her out.”

The men watched her a moment. They were far from stupid, and her lips twitched into a grin.

“What aren’t you telling us?” Rich asked.

“Oh, did I forget to mention the sixteen MPs I’ve tasked with being the bad guys? Their sole purpose is to hunt you down and kill you.”

“Four to one odds?” Dan asked.

She grinned. “Okay, I admit, that’s a little unfair. I’ve balance the odds a little. The MPs don’t know where Fug is either. Only the general area. I’d need a hundred times that amount to cover the entire boneyard, and I didn’t want to make it too easy.”

“And you’re not going to tell us where she is?” Dan followed up.

“Nope. But I’ve planted clues, starting right outside that door,” she said, pointing to another door on the opposite side of the room from where they’d entered. “If you’re clever, you can follow them right to her.”

“What are these?” Derrick asked, waving his hand over the table.

“Lipstick cameras to wear so I can see and hear what you’re doing, and evaluate your performance and your weapons.”

Derrick picked one of the rifles up and looked it over. “What the fuck is this?”

“A little something I had worked up for training. Think of them as paint ball guns on steroids. They hit hard enough to leave a hell of a bruise, but they won’t kill you. That eliminates the question of did you get shot or not.” The SEALs and Ranger glared at her. “I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “Remember, this is covert. You only use the weapons as a last resort. They have plenty of range for what you need them for. The MPs are armed similarly. So actually, you have the advantage.”

Dan put the headset over his head. “So you can see and hear us, but we can’t hear you?”

“That’s right. Once you walk out that door, you have an hour to find Fug and get her back here without getting her or yourselves killed. Remember, stealth is the name the game. If you get into a firefight, you lose.”

The men donned their cameras and turned them on. “Got it,” Dan said. “When does the clock start?”

“The minute that door closes.”

The men picked up their weapons, looked them over, and primed them. “Let’s go find Fug,” Thom said.

Tasha sat down at the table and opened her laptop. She could see the four cameras as the men walked across the room. They didn’t know it, but she’d set them up to fail. The best way to teach anyone anything was to have them fail, and while these men were undoubtedly warriors, she didn’t want—or need—warriors. She needed, for lack of a better term, spies. The men stepped into the sunlight, and she started the countdown timer. She picked up her walkie.

“Go!”

The MPs didn’t know where the men were coming from, or their destination, but they were now hunting them.

This is kind of your gig, Hoss, Rich said, looking at Dan, his voice slightly distorted over the radio. What do we do?

Tasha said there was a clue right outside the door. Dan’s camera whirled around. Here it is. See all these foot prints? Someone was dragged to these tire tracks. This way.

She nodded to herself as the men started out at a trot. The first clue was obvious. She was interested in their next move.

Four to one odds, Derrick said, their cameras bouncing as they moved in a ground covering trot. Anyone else feel like Tasha’s fucking us?

I, for one, wouldn’t mind getting fucked by her, Thom said. Fuck! Sorry, Tasha! I forgot you were listening.

She snickered to herself. She actually wouldn’t mind getting fucked by any one of them, but this was business, and as she’d found out the hard way, mixing business and pleasure was a bad idea.

Shit, Thom said as they slowed. Now what?

Give me a minute, Dan said, his camera whipping back and forth as he studied the ground.

This was the first intersection in the road and the tire tracks were a jumble.

This way, Dan said as he started off again at a trot.

Company! Rich hissed.

The men left the road quickly and ducked under an ancient B-52 bomber, using the huge plane’s landing gear to screen them. They waited until the hummer passed before creeping out again. They were on alert now, their weapons at the ready.

Are you still going to be able to track them with the hummers fucking up the tracks? Thom asked.

Yeah, I think so. The tracks looked like something a deuce and a half would use. Different than Hummer tires.

Fuck me! What are you, some kind of Indian? Thom asked.

Dan chuckled. No. Grew up hunting with my dad. Plus, I’ve had training in how not to leave a trail, so that helps.

Tasha smiled to herself. Dan was good. But she had one more surprise for him. She watched as the men dodged another patrol, then stopped where she’d ordered the driver of the two-and-a-half-ton truck Dan was tracking to stop.

She’s close, Dan said as he looked around.

Pajamas! Aren’t these the same tracks over here? Derrick asked.

Dan didn’t even glance. Probably, but the truck stopped here, then drove away.

How the fuck do you know that? Rich asked.

Foot prints. Plus there’s a drip of oil, and the tread pattern is a little different here in this spot. He looked around. Someone was carrying her.

Bullshit! How do you know that? Derrick demanded.

Only one set of prints, but not a woman’s. Fug’s foot isn’t that big, plus his stride is all fucked up.

Tasha smiled again as Derrick, Thom, and Rich’s cameras whipped about as they looked at each other. Dan wasn’t merely good, he was damned good. She hadn’t even noticed the oil drip where the truck had stopped, and she wondered if he was bullshitting them about the tracks being different. She decided that maybe he could tell. He’d sure picked up on the one set of prints quickly enough and guessed the right answer. Fug was only five-two, maybe five-three, and Tasha had one of the burly MPs carry her away from the truck to see if she could fox the hunters.

So which way? Thom asked.

She has to be close. Maybe in one of those planes. The tracks are gone out here on the hardpan. We’re going to have to search them. Dan’s camera spun as he looked around, then he crouched, the other three members doing the same, forming a firing arc with their backs to the center of the circle. Okay, let’s hit all the planes from about ten until about two, he said, pointing with his hand in the general direction the MP had carried Fug. Two-man teams. One searching, the other covering. Derrick, you and Rich, Thom, you’re with me.

You heard the man, Derrick said. Assholes and elbows! The team that doesn’t find her buys the beer.

You’re on! Thom said. I’ve got Tonto with me. I can taste that free beer already.

The four men snickered quietly and rose from their covering crouch.

She glanced at the timer. Only fifteen minutes in and they were already close. Shit! She’d set them up to fail, but they were far better than she’d given them credit for. She listened to the radio chatter of the MPs a moment as they looked for their quarry. She picked up the radio to point them in the right direction, but put it down. She’d already stacked the deck against her team by sending them in blind and giving the MPs radios and vehicles. They weren’t supposed to get even this far, and she wanted to see how this played out. Once the team learned some of the skills she would teach them, they were going to be fucking lethal.

She watched as the two teams went about searching the planes. Dan and Thom were headed in the wrong direction, but Derrick and Rich found Fug in short order.

I’ve got you, Derrick said as he found Fug sitting in the shade under an A-10 Warthog. Rich, find PJ and Thom, and let’s get out of here. We’ve got forty minutes.

On it!

Tasha divided her attention between the Derrick and Rich team and the Dan and Thom team. Thom’s weapon popped up as Rich slipped around an airplane, but he held his fire.

We’ve got her! Rich hissed, waving his arm at them to call Dan and Thom to him.

As the three men moved back to Fug’s position, she switched her attention to Derrick and grinned. Fug was drinking from her canteen and had either sweated through or poured water on herself to keep cool. Derrick was having a hard time not staring at her breasts plastered to her t-shirt.

The men joined up and moved out. They were going to get in and out without a scratch. She wasn’t sure if she was thrilled or disappointed. Thrilled that they were better than she’d given them credit for, but disappointed that unqualified success would make them that much more cocky and difficult to teach. They’d started moving at that same ground-eating trot they’d used on the way out but had to slow as Fug began to lag. She expected the men to bitch and moan, but they said nothing, slowing to accommodate her pace.

Bandits, five o’clock! Rich roared as he pivoted to his right and opened fire.

Got them! Road A26! one of the MPs called over the radio an instant later.

Dan threw himself over Fug, driving her hard to the ground as the other two men turned and added their fire to Rich’s, their guns popping softly as paint splatters appeared on the MP. The man dropped his gun and held up his hands. She’d instructed the MPs that any shot to the face shield, or two to the torso, they were to drop their weapons. They were out of the fight.

Dan leapt to his feet, dragging Fug up as he did. If you want to live, haul your ass! he snarled as they began to run. Rich, Derrick, and Thom were following, but their weapons were up and covering their retreat.

Ah! Shit! Rich snarled as he stumbled. Bandits! he screamed as he, Derrick, and Thom stopped and began to fire behind them, taking down the lone MP that had shot him in the back.

Get her out of here! Derrick yelled as more MPs appeared on the run, others in a hard charging Humvee. We’ll provide covering fire!

The melee began as the MPs converged on the men. The MPs were wearing armor and face shields, but her guys had no such protection. Dan shot one MP in the face one-handed while hauling Fug along by the arm. Rich, Derrick, and Thom would long be dead, but they followed, using the aircraft for cover as much as they could, firing as they retreated, grunting and snarling in pain as the paint balls struck home.

Dan shoved Fug to the ground again, falling with her as he opened fire, painting the MP orange with his weapon before jumping to his feet, dragging Fug up again, and running. They’d almost made the building when he grunted hard and deep, but a moment later, he burst through the door, Fug in hand, both of them gasping for breath.

“Stand down. Stand down!” Tasha called into her radio. It took a moment before her boys realized the MPs were holding up their hands and had stopped firing. The four men looked around. Each man had a different color paint loaded in their weapon. Dan’s was orange, Rich’s was red, Derrick’s blue, and Thom’s green. All the MPs were using white.

Shit, Derrick muttered as the three men looked themselves over. It was a quick count, but it looked to Tasha that Derrick had been hit three times, Rich five, counting the one in the back, and Thom twice. Better than she expected, but they were still dead.

Tasha rose from her chair. “You’re excused, Airman. Thank you. I’ll see you at the NCO club later. Beers are on me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fug said, then turned to Dan and smiled, making comically wide goo-goo eyes at him. “You saved me,” she gushed breathlessly, her hands clasped at her face like a fairytale maiden, but then she became serious. “Thank you, Sergeant. Seriously. If this had been real…” She let the sentence hang unfinished, but it was clear what she was saying. “Thank the other guys too.”

Dan smiled but his face looked haunted, as if he were seeing a ghost. He nodded. “Airman.”

Fug turned and left the building, joining the MPs for a ride back to the base and probably a shower.

“Let me see,” Tasha ordered.

Dan turned so she could see his back. He’d been hit once in the right shoulder. “Those fucking paint balls hurt!”

“Less than a bullet, though.”

“Yeah.”

A few minutes later, Derrick and her other men entered the building. “Fuck. I’m going to be sore as shit in the morning! Why didn’t you give us some armor like you did the MPs?” Derrick snarled.

“Because in the real world, you won’t be wearing armor.”

“You set us up to fail!” Rich accused.

“Yes, I did,” Tasha replied. “In the situations you’ll be going into, you won’t have good intel, tactical advantage, or any of the other things you’re used to having. What did you learn today?”

“That you’re a bitch?” Thom spat.

She grinned. “Okay, that. I’m a cold-hearted, ball-breaking bitch. Get used to it. But what should you have done differently?”

“It’s my fault,” Dan announced. “I was worried about the clock. We should have been moving under cover more. And we should have gone to ground instead of making a run for it.”

Tasha nodded. “Maybe. But more than that, what else?” She could tell Dan knew, but he wouldn’t call out or blame a team member. “Okay, I’ll tell you. Rich. Why the fuck did you think it was a good idea to start screaming like that? When did the shit really hit the fan? You fucked your whole team with that shit.”

“I was leading. It’s my fault,” Dan said loudly. “They knew where we were, so it didn’t matter!”

“No, it wasn’t your fucking fault. It was his,” she said, pointing at Rich, then softened. “The MP hadn’t seen you yet because he didn’t call your position until you yelled your warning. Look, I understand why you did it. But I told you, you have to forget your training. You should have taken the MP out as quietly as possible and then gone to cover.” She softened further. “I’m not blaming you. Not really. It may not have made any difference because you’re right, I set you up to fail. I gave the MPs every advantage. I wanted you to fail because I wanted to show you how what has been drilled into you since basic training isn’t going to save your life. You’re on your own, and yelling like that to protect your buddies only brings in the thunder. Understand?”

She stepped up to Rich and spun him around so she could see his back. “In the real world, that might not have been a fatal shot. But even if it was, instead of one man down, we have three. You see what I’m driving at?”

Rich nodded curtly. She could tell he didn’t like being dressed down when they’d accomplished the mission and saved the girl. These were proud men, willing to give their lives for their brothers, but she didn’t want them to give their lives. A dead American in a foreign country was only slightly better than a live one.

She decided to throw them a bone. “However, on the bright side, you got the target out without a scratch, and you weren’t supposed to. I’m surprised you even found her, to be honest, so call me impressed with that.” She smiled and nodded with in grudging approval. “Congratulations, mission accomplished. Now, I’m going to show you a different way, a way to reduce the 75% casualty rate.” Her smile grew. “So you don’t have to kill every one of my fucking MPs the next time. Jesus. They looked like they were standing in a fucking paint factory when it exploded.”