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Hercules continued stacking the crates in the back of his small transport. When he got back to Titan, he was going to have a long talk with Atlas about sending him shadow as Olaf Jorgensen.
“Olaf! Get a move on.” Ricky Fuentes slapped him on the shoulder as he headed for the open bay doors. “Carmon wants you back downunder by o-dark-thirty. Got it?”
Herc nodded but didn’t slow his stacking. He’d be back in the mines before Carmon Gulden could sneeze. This was one night he wasn’t about to miss. Tonight was his three-month anniversary with Lupine Mining Inc. and he wasn’t about to pass on a minute of it.
When Pantheon’s new boss, Walter Bellinger, had sent them that information three months ago, Herc had expected things to blow wide open. There was a leak, one that was responsible for the deaths of at least five spec-ops that he knew of and possibly more. They all wanted to nail the S.O.B’s hide to the wall. With all specs on ‘temporary personal leave’, it had seemed simple enough to follow the leads on their own and kill the asshole on the other end.