by Shauna Allen
“I got in.”
I shot Brianne a glance. “You got in?”
She sat up, too, sensing this was big.
I put Tex on speakerphone.
“Yeah.” His voice was gritty and exhausted.
“That’s good, right?” I asked.
Brianne scooted closer and grabbed my hand, her eyes huge.
“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “It’s a bunch of shit to sort through right now. I’ll need Brianne’s help stat. Will you be talking to her this morning?”
I met her eyes with a questioning glance.
She flushed then I saw as she mentally said ‘fuck it’ and shrugged. “Uh . . . I’m here, Tex.”
“Brianne?” Tex was clearly confused.
“Yup.”
He was silent. Too silent.
She laughed. “Good Lord, Tex. It’s fine. I’m a big girl, and DeAndre’s a gentleman.”
“DeAndre, huh?” There was a smile in his voice.
“It’s Tito to you, my friend.”
“Right. So, okay . . . guess we can talk about this later.” He cleared his throat. “Well, this is good timing since we’ll have to work together now that I’m in.”
“Of course,” she said, her eyes wide.
“But,” he added, “a couple of things are clear already, and they’re not fucking good.”
“What’s that?” I asked, ready to move and report to the team. “He’s reopening some long dead networks, and chatter is crazy. There’s talk of a new player—The Mahdi.”
“Mahdi?” I echoed.
“It’s Shadeek,” Brianne blurted.
“What?”
“Who?” Tex and I both spoke at the same time.
“The Islamic redeemer who will rule over Muslims in the final days of judgment,” Brianne supplied, her eyes glued to the phone. “What else? What about him?”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “How do you know that?”
“I learned everything I could about my enemies when I was forced to work with Esteban and Shadeek.”
My stomach dropped. “You think . . . this Mahdi is Shakeek?”
“I remember his closest, most radical followers calling him that in some of the correspondence, yes.” Her eyes met mine. “It’s him.”
“Well, then we have a bigger damn problem,” Tex cut in, keyboard keys clacking in the background.
“It was just reported to Interpol and the CIA that this Mahdi asshole used fake papers and a doctored passport to slip past agents at the Canadian/U.S. border.” The silence was literally deafening as his meaning sunk in and chilled the air. “Shadeek is on United States soil.”
I spent the next couple of days balancing my time between work and spending time with my family and Brianne. The mission was consuming my thoughts, but I tried to focus on the little bit of time I had with my mother and sister while they were in town. Shadeek was proving to be a formidable enemy—a ghost in the wind—and so far, we were only getting breadcrumbs in the chat rooms. We had brought in every available government agency to assist, and the Feds had turned over a low-level informant who was currently being interrogated in a deep, dark hole somewhere, so we were waiting to see what turned up with him.
That morning, my mother forked her waffle with a serious expression. “DeAndre, son, I appreciate you taking the time to take us to brunch, but if you have to be somewhere else, we understand. DeAnna and I can occupy ourselves.”
“Sorry, Mama. Work is just . . .” My gaze slid to Brianne, who offered me a soft, knowing smile as her hand found mine under the table and squeezed.
“Hey, we saw on TV last night that Pastor Borja from the Philippines is coming to that Sunrise Fellowship megachurch in San Clemente for a weeklong revival,” DeAnna cut in with an excited smile. “Celebrities and politicians will be there and a fabulous praise and worship band. It’s going to be amazing.” Her gaze darted to Brianne. “We were thinking we might catch the first night’s service. Give DeAndre a break from us and do something fun before we head home. I’ve always wanted to see Pastor Borja live. He’s awesome on TV. Would you like to go with us?”
“I . . .” Brianne seemed shocked they’d invite her. “I’d love to, but I can’t.” I saw the disappointment on her face. “Thank you for asking. I hope you have a great time.”
“You’re sure?” my mother asked.
“I’m sure. I have a lot of work to do.” Brianne had tactfully kept quiet about her “work” and what she did for the U.S. military, but thankfully, my family didn’t push the issue.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind . . .” DeAnna took a bite of her eggs.
“Thanks.”
I squeezed her hand, silently promising myself that when this mission was over, I would take her someplace beautiful and show her a good time to make up for everything she’d missed.
I made sure my mom and sister got to enjoy their revival and at least one more trip to the beach and another nice meal before I saw them off at the airport. It was hard to say goodbye, but I needed to refocus on my work, and they were ready to get home.
“You take care of that sweet girl, you hear me?” my mom murmured as we hugged.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She kissed my cheek. “That’s my boy.”
I hugged my sister, and she pretty much threatened my life if I didn’t put a ring on it, but I ignored that and waited for them to go then headed back to HQ, where I’d left Brianne working with Tex in a conference room to give her a break from being cooped up in her apartment for a little while.
The entire mission had taken on a sense of urgency with Shadeek in the U.S., and I had to admit that knowing he could be anywhere made me uneasy. Maybe it was because Brianne and I had made love, maybe it was because I had openly admitted my vulnerability to her and myself, but a protectiveness I didn’t know I possessed overwhelmed me at times, nearly throwing me off balance with the need to protect her from an unseen but deadly enemy.
Where the fuck was he?
He couldn’t hide forever. Not from us and every available resource we had hunting him like a dog.
Back at base, I made my way inside operations headquarters. Wolf and his team were crowded around the case files, going over the intel again, burning it into their brain and prepping for any possible op.
Behind them, I could see Tex and Brianne in the conference room at their laptops.
I lifted my chin in their direction. “Anything new?”
“Yeah, actually,” Wolf said. “Facial recognition picked up a ninety-nine percent match on Shadeek, purchasing bomb-making material just outside L.A. two days ago.”
“Two days ago?”
He nodded, his mouth set in a grim frown.
“Los Angeles?”
“Yes,” Dude answered. “And it was a fuck ton. Enough to blow this base off the map.”
My eyes sought out Brianne’s, but she and Tex were busy. Her face was lined with fatigue and worry. I knew she was taking entirely too much of this on herself. “Fuck.” I yanked out my phone and punched out a group text to my team to bring them in from PT for an update, followed by one to the commander, requesting a meeting.
Over the next few hours, we met with both commanders, developed a preliminary plan to notify all pertinent agencies that Shadeek was in California and to increase and mobilize security on the base, and requested that interrogations of the informant in custody be amplified to any means necessary to gain the required information.
We then gathered both teams, including Tex, behind the closed doors of another conference room, leaving Brianne to continue working tirelessly at the computers.
“This has to end,” Red spoke up vehemently, memories of nearly losing his life in Syria clearly evident on his face.
“Amen, brother,” Cookie agreed from his perch in the corner.
“We also need to talk about our family’s security,” Benny said, his voice somber.
Everyone agreed, fully remembering everything Shadeek, along
with the cartel, had put all of us through.
“Can we use the Feds for that?” Maverick asked.
“Possibly,” I said. “I will make a call as soon as we’re done here—”
There was a cursory knock just before the door burst open. “Sorry to interrupt, guys.” Brianne’s eyes were bright and frightened, but she didn’t look sorry at all.
Bubba and Lucky stood to attention. Mozart peered through the blinds, casing the parking lot.
I took an instinctual step her way. “It’s okay. What is it?”
Her blue gaze swept the room then honed back in on me. Only me. “I know where he’s targeting next.” A strangled sigh. Teary eyes that silently communicated this was something personal. “The Sunrise Fellowship Church.”
Brianne
“The what?” Lucky said, clearly thrown.
Wolf slammed down the file folder in his hand and stood to pace as he dialed someone on his phone. “Of course.”
“It’s a megachurch not far from here,” I said. “Maybe thirty minutes.”
Still, DeAndre stared at me, his mind obviously ticking through the coincidence and what-ifs in this timing since his family was just there. “Are you sure?” he eventually asked.
I nodded. “Yes. I kept seeing the name Borja in the chat room where Shadeek was using the name Mahdi. It nagged me until it clicked this morning after your mom and sister went to see him preach. I poked around some other sites, and the chatter corroborates it. It makes sense. He’s going for the church during their revival.”
“Jesus.” Cookie raked a hand over his head.
I flashed my eyes his way. “Exactly.”
“He’s attempting an honest-to-God jihad, right here on American soil,” Kid mumbled.
“And in our own fucking backyard,” Abe spat, anger clear in his voice.
Wolf ended his call and spun around. “Both commanders will be here in ten.” He faced me. “Thank you for all of your hard work, Brianne. We’ll take it from here.” He shot Tex a meaningful glance, and he stood to shuffle me out of the room.
“I’m being dismissed?” I asked in disbelief. “Just like that?”
“No, not just like that.” Tex seemed offended. “You’ve been amazing. We couldn’t have gotten this far, this fast, without you. It’s just time for both teams to get moving on this intel, and if you’re right, we have limited time to do that.” He picked up my purse and handed it to me. “Let me get you home, okay? You can get some rest while they take care of Shadeek.”
“I . . .” I hesitated, waiting for DeAndre to appear. To say goodbye. Thanks. I’ll take care of you. Something. Anything.
Nothing.
Instead, Wolf offered me a quick, tight smile then closed the door as they got right to business, and I showed Tex everything I’d found before he hurried me away, leaving me feeling cold and more than a little alone.
As Tex drove me back to my apartment, I shot DeAndre a quick text.
Me: Can you call me later?
DeAndre: I’ll try. Things will mobilize fast now so we may have to go dark.
DeAndre: Sorry, baby.
Me: Please try. Something feels off, and I need to hear your voice.
DeAndre: It’s going to be fine now that we have this intel. Relax, baby. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.
Nothing more from him as Tex dropped me off, and I closed myself into my tiny apartment.
I paced and peeked out the blinds. It was just another ordinary day outside, but the creeping sense that something was wrong began to grow and choke me.
I tried him again.
Me: Please call me. Something’s not right. I can feel it. Please.
Fifteen minutes later, he finally texted back.
DeAndre: We’re going dark now.
That was it. No call. No reassurances. No nothing but a vague brush-off that they were going off the grid for their fucking mission.
I fumed and tossed my phone on the couch with a curse. Why wouldn’t he listen to me?
Why did it hurt so much?
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on my breathing. We knew what Shadeek was up to finally, and he and both teams were going to stop him. This was almost over, then we would be free to figure out what was next for us. I just had to get through these next few hours . . .
I paced for a while, then tried to eat and watch TV, but that was useless. I thought about calling Grace to vent, but I wasn’t sure what was acceptable for us to talk about, so I decided to leave well enough alone.
I took a shower and changed into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized Marines t-shirt, my mind still firmly on DeAndre. I wondered if they’d left for the church yet and what they’d do when they got there. If Shadeek was there. I’d never seen him in person, but he was a monster in my mind.
Giving up on avoiding the unavoidable, I bundled my wet hair up into a messy bun and sat down to play on the computer. No point in sitting on my hands, I might as well see what other information I could gather that might help.
I had a dozen tabs open to several chat rooms, my eyes peeled for any chatter that looked promising about Shadeek, Mahdi, his plans at the Sunrise Fellowship, or any other attacks he might have up his sleeve. His network of radical followers was expansive and devoted, and it was scary, but I kept clicking as the threads led me through the maze of the dark web.
Suddenly, a message popped up in one of the quieter chat rooms for me. Well, for my alter ego in the room, DJPrincess1—my play on being DeAndre Johnson’s princess, at least in my fantasies.
Mahdi: It is time for us to meet, DJPrincess1
I blinked down at the screen, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs I thought I might be sick. My hands began to sweat and shake. I stared at his words for several minutes before I decided to answer, and even then, I could barely type out a response, and it took me three tries to get it right.
DJPrincess1: Fuck off
Mahdi: Such profanity from such a pretty little girl. I believe you were raised better than that.
Next, a photo of me and Grace with my father when we were young popped up on the screen. I nearly screamed, but I shoved a hand to my mouth as my gaze scoured the room, though I knew I was alone.
DJPrincess1: What do you want?
Mahdi: Isn’t that obvious?
Mahdi: YOU
The word YOU began to repeat and cover my screen, over and over, as if he was mocking me through cyberspace.
Tears filled my eyes, but I refused to cry. Not for him. Not now.
I jumped from my chair and turned away from the computer, imagining that I could just run away. Run from this nightmare and never look back. But then what? Shadeek or Mahdi or whatever the hell his name was would eventually find me. And what about DeAndre?
I was shaking head to toe when I sat back down, and my screen was once again black, the blinking cursor mocking me.
DJPrincess1: You can’t have me. Try again.
Mahdi: I believe I can . . .
A moment later, up popped first an image of DeAndre with his team, obviously taken recently. On top of that, a picture of him stepping out of his truck in front of my apartment. Next, his mom and sister as they laughed and played on the beach. His sister at what looked like the salon she worked at in Pittsburgh. His mother in her car, stopped at a red light.
Mahdi: One of my men is waiting for you just outside the main gate of the base. Black sedan. You have ten minutes, or I will kill them all. Come alone, no personal belongings of any kind, no questions. I’m watching.
I tried to think, but my brain was a jumble of fear. All I could think was not again. I couldn’t be taken captive by a madman again. But what other choice did I have? I couldn’t let DeAndre or his family come to any harm. Not because of me. Not now that I knew fully and without reservation that I was in love with him.
The realization had settled softly upon me sometime between waking up in his arms after we’d made love and right this moment when I had to acknowledge tha
t I was willing to die for him.
I’m watching.
What the hell did that mean?
“Fuck you,” I yelled into the air.
Heart thumping madly, I slid on my tennis shoes, wondering if I’d live to see morning. Surely, Shadeek had something in mind for me beyond simple murder . . .
I shot a glance at the time on my computer screen. I needed to go if I was going to make it.
The cursor blinked, taunting me.
All the other chat room tabs remained open, reminding me of . . . no, giving me a bold idea.
“Fuck you,” I mumbled again under my breath as I tried a Hail Mary.
DeAndre
This was the mission we’d all been waiting for. We were finally going to bring down Shadeek and end this shit for good.
My mind continued to try to bounce back to Brianne at home, but I reeled it back and kept my focus as Wolf and I led the two teams to our initial rendezvous point, where we took inventory of our weapons and the plan one more time. It was fairly simple.
My team would keep primarily to intel and comms and backup.
Wolf and his guys were the fire power.
We were also working with the police and the Feds to handle local traffic, any potential casualties, the triage of injuries, and the flow of people as we cleared the building.
But objective number one was to get to all potential explosives before they detonated and find and detain Shadeek. Or kill him. Whichever was fine with me.
As the time approached, we spread out to our locations. I took up lead on comms. Wolf and the guys infiltrated the church grounds and building quietly. Dude moved to the basement to the first of the explosives and cleared the area.
The first rat-a-tat-tat rounds of gunfire sounded over my headset, along with Dude and Cookie’s curses as they ran into their first hostiles.
I itched to help, but I was doing my job, my men on comms and Lucky stationed as a sniper.
From another floor up, Abe’s voice crackled over the headset. “The two wise men are in the stable. I repeat, the wise men are in the stable.”
“Roger that,” I said, making note of the time he’d indicated that he had both the church’s pastor as well as the visiting guest pastor safe and accounted for, which was his primary part of the mission. Next, he would see them out of the church via the route we’d planned and to safety.