by CW Browning
All because of Harry.
Damon looked up then and his blue eyes met hers across the large room. The anger evaporated in an instant, replaced by a warm feeling of belonging. She felt a surge of warmth and all the tension in her shoulders eased when he smiled. At some point, when she wasn’t paying attention, Damon had come to mean much more to her than she’d ever dreamed possible. When she saw him now, she felt like she was home.
Striding across the building toward him, Viper felt her lips curve in an answering smile. He stood and started toward her.
“You made it!” he said, his voice carrying to the two night employees behind the desk a few yards away. “I was beginning to think you changed your mind.”
Aware of the curious eyes watching them, she tossed her head and laughed gaily.
“And miss Palm Beach?” she demanded. “As if!”
A genuine laugh leapt into Damon’s eyes at her playful tone and he slid one arm around her waist while his other hand took the duffel bag from her.
“It’ll be the time of your life,” he told her, lowering his lips to hers. “I guarantee it.”
He turned her towards the glass double doors leading outside to the tarmac, his arm still firmly around her waist.
“Don’t I have to check in or something?” she protested, glancing over to the desk.
“All you have to do is relax and get ready to party. The pilot’s just waiting on us. I told you I’d take care of everything!”
Hawk pushed open the door and ushered her outside, away from the watching eyes. As soon as the door closed behind them, Viper glanced at him.
“Get ready to party?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “Is that what you call it these days?”
He looked down at her and grinned. “It’s got a better ring to it than let’s go to work. Besides, you’re one to talk. ‘Don’t I have to check in?’ I almost choked.”
He still had his arm around her and Viper didn’t feel inclined to pull away as they walked along the sidewalk towards the large hangar. An airplane was outside on the tarmac, waiting.
“Everything’s ready?” she asked. “The pilot’s briefed?”
“Yep. I did a pre-flight check as well as the pilot. We’re good to go. Did you get Michael squared away?”
“Yes.” She glanced at her watch. “He should be getting into position now. He’ll hold until he gets the word.”
He looked at her. “You’re sure he can handle it?”
She shrugged. “We’ll find out.”
They were silent for a moment, then Damon stopped walking and turned to face her, dropping the bag onto the pavement. She looked up at him questioningly and caught her breath at the grave look on his face.
“We need to discuss what happens if something goes wrong,” he said quietly.
“We already have. It’s plan B.”
“No. You discussed plan B. I never agreed to it.” Hawk stared down at her, his jaw twitching. “We don’t do suicide missions, and that’s what your plan B amounts to.”
“Every mission is potentially a suicide mission. This is no different. If something goes wrong, Angela has to be a priority. You’re the only other person who can get her to safety.”
“Leaving you alone, outnumbered by Organization rejects and cartel thugs, on a yacht with Harry!”
She shrugged. “Then that’s how it is. Angela has to get off that boat. You know what will happen if she stays.”
“If Michael can’t get it done, there is another option,” he said slowly. “We get Angela out and let Harry go.” Damon swiftly pressed his finger against her lips as she started to protest. “Listen to me. We know where he’s heading. We can get him in Montenegro.”
“And in the meantime, Stephanie, Blake and Angela are in hiding,” she retorted. “No. This ends tonight.”
“Agreed, but only if the gunny can execute his end. If not, I think we should abort.” He slipped his other arm around her and pulled her close. “The odds are already very heavily on their side, even with both of us together. Take one of us out of the mix, and our odds are almost non-existent. I’d rather Stephanie and Company have a few uncomfortable weeks in a safe house somewhere than go through the rest of my life without you.”
Something deep inside her tugged and Viper felt the bottom of her gut drop out as her breath caught in her throat.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.
“Say we extract Angela and live to fight another day.”
She let out a choked laugh and gazed into his deep blue eyes. He was deadly serious, and she knew if she refused, he would simply find another way around it. Hawk was nothing if not stubborn.
“Michael will do it,” she said after a long moment. “I think it will take something extreme to make him fail.”
“You know as well as I do that the smallest thing can derail an operation. It may not happen, but we have to be on the same page if it does.”
With a soft sigh, Viper capitulated.
“Fine. If things get fubar, we get Angie and get off the boat,” she said grudgingly.
Damon wrapped her close and rested his chin on top of her, exhaling. “Good.”
She smiled against his shoulder, feeling some of the tension leave him with her agreement. He really had been worried about plan B. Of all the things that could go wrong, he was worried about her. A wave of warmth rolled through her again and a strange feeling of being cherished engulfed her. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about her.
Damon lifted his head and pulled away slightly, looking down into her face. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against hers softly.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said, lifting his head and bending to pick up the bag again.
They turned to continue to the plane and as they drew closer, a man appeared in the open door behind the wing.
“You must be Raven!” he called, jumping down and striding towards them. “Damon said we were waiting on you. I’m Jon. Good to meet you.”
Viper grasped his offered hand. “Thanks for helping us out. We appreciate it.”
“No worries. You have your gear?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get this party started.”
Jon turned back toward the plane and she glanced at Damon in some amusement. He winked and followed Jon to the open door of the plane, tossing her bag inside before climbing into the plane easily. He turned and reached out a hand to her, but she waved him away impatiently. He chuckled and backed up as she climbed into the belly of the plane.
Instead of rows of passenger seats, the back half of the plane was outfitted with a row of bench seats along each side. Damon’s bags were already onboard and as Viper straightened up, she pulled her bag over her head and moved to one of the benches. She sat down and opened it as Jon got in behind them and closed the door, latching it.
“Damon gave me the coordinates. Once we takeoff, you have about seventeen minutes to the run,” he said, turning to look at them. “Your window is going to be very tight. When I say go, you’ll have about sixty seconds before that window closes.”
“Wind gusts over the target?” Viper asked, glancing up.
“About what we expected. It’s a clear night with minimal wind. No surprises, which is just how I like it. It’ll be a walk in the park for you two. Good luck.”
Damon nodded. “Thanks.”
Jon moved down the aisle toward the cockpit and Viper watched him go to the front seat thoughtfully. Once he was seated and going through his takeoff routine, she looked at Damon.
“Who is he?” she asked. “And why does he know your name?”
“I served with his brother,” he answered, unzipping a large bag. “He’s someone we can trust. His brother is a good man. He’s the only one I kept in touch with.” Damon looked up. “I trust him with my life.”
She raised an eyebrow. “A SEAL?”
He nodded. “
They run a small business out of Louisiana now.”
“And Jon’s done this before?”
Damon looked at her, amused. “Every day. This is what their business does.”
She grinned and bent down to unzip the big black duffel bag as Jon started the engines.
“Just checking.” She glanced at her watch. “Where’s my pack?”
Damon nodded to the back of the plane where two black backpacks were on the floor. Viper followed his gaze as she reached into the open bag at her feet.
“Did you check them?”
“Yes.” He pulled a phone out of the inside of his jacket and swiped the screen, typing something quickly. “I’ll get the gunny moving.”
She nodded and pulled a leg holster out of her bag, securing it around her right thigh. Reaching back into the bag, she extracted a second one for the left leg. Hawk slid the phone back into his jacket and reached for his bag, pulling out his own holsters. He glanced across at her as he strapped one on.
“You have the charges?”
“They’re in the gray bag, inside the big one.”
He nodded and finished securing his holsters, then reached for the large duffel bag.
“When you’re ready, your bag with your tank is in that bag over there. It will have to hook on your opposite side from the weapons bag.”
Viper nodded, waiting for him to pull out the gray bag before reaching for the big bag. She pulled out a long, slender black bag that could be worn across her body. Draping it over her shoulder, she secured it flush to her torso with straps and turned back to the bag. She unzipped another, smaller bag and pulled out a Ruger SR22. It was one of a pair, and she quickly checked the magazine before reaching for the other one. Hawk looked up from the open bag next to him as she checked the clip on the second one.
“Once these charges are set, you’ll have five minutes,” he told her. “I’ll tell you when it’s done and the countdown starts. Are you sure that’s enough time?”
“Any longer and we might as well broadcast what we’re doing,” she replied, sliding the Rugers into the narrow weapons bag. “It’ll be fine. Just make sure you get off the yacht as soon as they’re set.”
“Is Trident in place?”
“It will be, if it’s not already.”
They fell silent then as they finished preparing their gear and getting it secured to their bodies. Viper glanced over to Hawk more than once as he worked quickly, his movements precise and efficient. It was strange to be preparing for this with someone else, especially him. They were both so used to working alone that it was surreal to now be working as one unit. Even so, she admitted to a tremendous feeling of relief not to be going into this alone.
Getting up, she moved down a bit to the bag Damon had motioned to earlier. She opened it and found two oblong bags. Pulling one out, she checked the small oxygen tank inside. It was nearly identical to the one she had handed Michael earlier.
“They’ll last for an hour and a half,” Hawk said, joining her. “That should be more than enough time.”
She nodded and checked the mask, then closed the bag and strapped it on so that it was held tight against her left side.
“They just have to get us to Trident,” she agreed.
Hawk strapped on his own tank and then turned to move to the back of the plane.
“Ten minutes to run!” Jon called from the cockpit.
Viper followed Hawk, glancing at her watch.
“We’re right on schedule,” he said, handing her one of the black packs as she joined him.
She nodded and took the pack, swinging it onto her back. While she tightened the straps around her torso, Hawk began to secure the straps around her legs.
“As soon as Michael and Angela are clear of the boat, I’ll take out the satellite and electrical system,” he said as he pulled them taut against her.
He finished getting her straps done and turned to reach for the other pack.
“Once the electrical goes out, we’ll be blind. The night-vision will help, but get as many charges as you can set before you cut the power,” Viper said, watching as he swung the bag onto his back. “With any luck, I’ll get to Harry before he realizes there’s two of us.”
Hawk adjusted his straps, waving her away when she reached to help him with the bottom ones. She grinned and turned to make her way back to the bags.
“Stubborn bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Why do I need help with the leg straps, but you won’t let me help you?”
He let out a bark of laughter.
“Seriously?” he demanded, finishing with the straps and turning to go over to her. “Are you honestly complaining because I helped you?”
“No. I’m just observing that you think you’re above help.”
“I don’t need help. I’ve done this so many times it’s like putting on shoes in the morning.” He lowered his head to press his lips against hers swiftly. “You, on the other hand, have probably only done this a handful of times.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough, but I still know how to work my own gear.”
He winked. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get my hands between your legs.”
It was her turn to let out a laugh.
“Oh honey, all you had to do was ask.” She turned him around so she could check his pack. “At least let me make sure you’re not going to plummet to your death.”
He grunted and was silent while she went over the bag on his back, testing clips and straps.
“If I die, it won’t because the gear was bad,” he said when she’d finished. He turned her around to check hers. “Remember, the wind gusts coming off the water will make it tricky. Aim for the stern. That’s the easiest landing point.”
Viper turned to face him. “Now you’re just being insulting.”
He grinned and was lowering his head to kiss her again when Jon yelled the five-minute warning. He glanced at his watch and sighed.
“And it’s time to go to work.”
He turned towards the door and Viper braced herself for the rush of air as he unbolted the safety bar and opened the door. Cool salt air flooded in and she grabbed hold of the hand railing bolted into the side of the plane. Hawk moved beside her, grabbing the railing with one hand and bracing the other on the roof. They both looked out into the black void. Far below, the rough and choppy waves of the Atlantic waited for them.
As did Harry.
Viper shifted her weight, getting used to the balance of the gear. Everything was ready. Everything had been planned down to the second. The only thing left to do was jump.
Her eyes met Hawk’s and she saw her own excitement reflected in them. It didn’t matter what waited for them on the yacht. Right now, they were staring out the door of a plane and waiting for the word to dive. She felt a familiar rush of adrenaline go through her as her heart thumped once before settling down in a steady, strong rhythm.
“You ready?” he asked loudly over the howl of the wind and salt air.
“I’m always ready for this!”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Tell me again how I let you talk me into this,” Blake muttered as they strode through the doors of the airport and emerged into the heavy, humid evening air of Savannah, Georgia.
“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Stephanie said, stopping next to him and leaning on her cane tiredly. “We just got a ride on a private jet! Tell me you didn’t enjoy that.”
“I didn’t enjoy it.”
“You’re full of crap.”
“How could I enjoy it when I kept waiting for an assassin to walk through the cabin and put a bullet in our heads?” he demanded, raising a hand and flagging down a cab. “Talk about reckless!”
“You agreed that the risk was probably minimal as long as we were smart about moving around,” she pointed out as a taxi pulled up to the curb.
Blake glanced at her incredulously.
/> “I was talking about driving back roads in a Jeep with new plates,” he exclaimed. “Not flying between two major airports on the East coast!”
She shrugged and grinned.
“Rob got us through Philly without any issues, and now we’re here without any signs of assassins lurking around the corner. Stop worrying. It’s fine.”
Blake opened the taxi door and waved her inside. “Uh huh. Just get in the car and out of sight, please.”
Stephanie got into the cab and slid over on the seat as Blake got in beside her.
“Coast Guard Air Station,” he told the driver, closing the door.
The driver nodded and flipped something on the dash before easing away from the curb.
Blake looked at her, then at the plastic box she’d set on the seat between them.
“I still can’t believe you brought the cat.”
Stephanie looked at him. “Well, I couldn’t just leave her.”
“She’s a cat! She’d be fine!”
“I don’t know how long we’ll be here!” she shot back. “Do you have any idea what Angie will do to me if anything happens to this cat? Besides, after what she’s been through, her cat will be much appreciated.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Oh really? Then why did you leave Buddy with Rob? Why not just leave him at the house?”
He shrugged. “That’s different. It’s a dog.”
Stephanie sputtered and glared at him.
“That doesn’t even rate a response,” she muttered, leaning down and slipping a finger through the grate in the front of the carrier. A soft nose nudged it, then Anabelle let out a sad meow.
Blake shook his head and looked out the window. She pulled her hand away from the carrier and sighed.
“Did Rob get hold of the Commander?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.
“Yes. He’s got someone waiting for us.” Blake looked at her. “You realize this hare-brained idea of yours can’t possibly work, right?”
She looked at him. “Then why are we here?”
He grunted and turned his gaze out the window.
“Because I didn’t have a better hare-brained idea.”
“Then quit complaining. What’s the name of the person meeting us?”