by Brent Towns
She stood listening to the automatic gunfire and the explosions while Flint made the call to the team. From the background, Miller stepped forward. “Ma’am, it’s time to go.”
She turned and looked at him. A curt nod gave him his answer. “All right. Call the others in.”
“Knocker, stop,” Kane said in a harsh whisper.
“I’ll stop when I’m dead, Reaper. This bastard needs killing. I should have done it the first time I saw him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ran across him in Mosul years ago on an op for SIS. I’ll tell you about it when we’re done.”
The tunnel went straight for around fifty meters, and the direction it traveled indicated they were under the street. Aware that there could be hidden IEDs in the tunnel, their progress was slow.
The tunnel turned to their left and ran for another twenty meters before stopping at an opening. On the other side was a T-junction.
“Which way now?” Kane muttered.
“Fuck,” Knocker hissed. “This way. He turned right and kept going.”
Kane noticed that the big Brit was limping and shone a flashlight at his feet. Both were bloody from lacerations.
“Knocker, your feet,” Kane said.
“What about them?”
“They’re bleeding.”
“I’ll worry about it later.”
Kane grabbed him by the shoulder. Knocker spun and lashed out, swiping the hand away. “Fuck off, Reaper. I’m seeing this through. Go back if you want, but I’m not leaving it unfinished. There’s two people in this world I’m going to kill before I’m done. Best is one, and that bitch is another.”
“Grayson?”
“Who fucking else? You coming, or what?”
“All right. Just, let me take point.”
Knocker stepped aside and waved him past. “Be my guest.”
They kept moving until the tunnel reached the basement of another house. Kane had started to ease his way through the opening when gunfire erupted from the other side. He hissed as a round sliced through his clothing and opened a gash in his left upper arm, then lurched back and let out a curse.
Troy stepped forward and filled the void, opening up with his 416. The weapon was on auto, and he sprayed the room beyond with a full magazine.
The shooter on the other side went silent, and Troy took cover to reload while Brick moved through the opening, brushing Knocker aside. He swept the basement and said, “Clear.”
The others followed him through, Kane’s arm already starting to throb. Brick had reached the stairs and was beginning to ascend the rickety treads to the main part of the building. Once he reached the top, he almost walked into another ambush. He jumped back as bullets peppered the wall around the doorway. He said aloud, “I think these guys are trying to stop us from doing our job.”
“I’ve had about enough of those fucking wankers,” Knocker snarled and stepped through the doorway.
“Knocker, wait!” Kane called after him, but it was too late. Gunfire erupted, and the hallway filled with muzzle flashes. “Shit.”
“Hold it there, Nutter, before I knock you ass-over-tit,” Knocker shouted, his voice echoing along the street. He’d killed the shooter in the hallway and gone outside, guessing that Best would have a vehicle close by.
Best was hobbling away on his crutches, armed guards on either side of him. Both men spun to open fire, but the former SAS man beat the one on the left to the punch. The AK spewed bullets, and the man fell at the disabled feet of his master. The second shooter, however, was about to fire, and Knocker still hadn’t gotten his own weapon into line.
A suppressed 416 let loose and the second shooter fell. Troy stepped up beside Knocker and said, “You’re welcome, buddy.”
The Brit glanced sideways at him. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Your new best friend.”
Knocker grunted and turned his attention to Best, who had staggered around to face him. Kane and Brick fell in beside him and Troy. The terrorist put his arms out and said laconically, “I guess this is it.”
Knocker was suddenly aware of how cold the night air was as it pricked the skin of his exposed back. He grunted. “I guess it is,” he said and squeezed the trigger.
The former SAS man moved forward and stood over the dead terrorist, then looked down at him and shook his head. “The poor prick never stood a chance.”
“You knew him?” Kane asked.
“Yeah, in a different life.”
“Well, we’ll be joining him in his new one if we don’t get out of here now,” Brick said.
Kane nodded and said into his comms. “Reaper Two, sitrep?”
“We can still get out of here if we move now, Reaper. ISR is showing tangos moving in from the east and north.”
“All right, get everyone to the vehicles. Have the helicopter stay overhead until we’re moving. We’ll be right with you.”
“Roger that.”
“Bravo, copy?”
“Read you Lima Charlie, Reaper One.”
“We’ve secured Reaper Three and the HVT is down, over.”
“Good work, Reaper One. Come on home.”
“Roger that. Reaper One, out.”
“Hey sweetheart, how’s it hanging?” Cara greeted Knocker as she hugged him.
“Nothing a couple of beers won’t fix,” he replied tiredly.
“I’ll buy you one just as soon as we get back.”
“All right, ma’am, you can let him go now,” Brick said and wrapped an emergency blanket around Knocker. “I need to get an IV line into him before we leave.”
“I’ll do it,” Rucker said. “You just keep checking him over.”
“We don’t have much time,” Hunt pointed out.
“It won’t take long. It’s just to rehydrate him.”
“I’m fine,” Knocker grumbled.
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Him a tough cookie, huh?” Baburin said.
Knocker turned his head to look at the Russian. “A sod goes away for a short time, and it all goes to shit. Now you’re letting Russians join the team.”
“He’s funny, too.”
The Brit winced as the IV needle was inserted. “Shit a brick, you’re trying to kill me.”
“Stop your crying and suck it up, Princess.”
Kane stopped what he was doing and listened to the message coming over his comms. He looked up and said, “That’s it, we’ve got to go. The door is closing.”
They got Knocker into the back of the second Humvee with Brick so the medic could finish going over him. Arenas said to Kane, “The other Humvee is cooked, amigo.”
“Put a charge in it. Are the other vehicles good?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s do it.”
Two minutes later, the team was mobile and headed back to their base, all present and accounted for.
“How is he?” Thurston asked Doctor Rosanna Morales.
“He’ll be just fine. I will need to keep an eye on his feet and make sure they don’t become infected. Someone took care of the knife wounds.”
“Knife wounds?”
“Yes, they stabbed him and then kept them clean so they would partially heal, then they did it again. He’s been beaten as well, and at some point, he lost a tooth. But for the most part, it was a knife. I’ve got some IV antibiotics running into him, as well as another bag of saline. He’s been put through the wringer, and I have no doubt he’s hurting, but you wouldn’t know it. He doesn’t let it show.”
“It’s an operator thing. Is it all right if I talk to him?”
“Sure, but I think he’s gone to sleep.”
“I would be if you two ladies would have your meeting somewhere else,” Knocker growled.
Rosanna shrugged. “He’s all yours.”
Thurston walked over to the cot and looked down at the Brit. He opened his partially closed eyes and said, “Now that’s a face a man could get used to waking up to.”
“I’m glad to see they didn’t dent your sense of humor, Raymond.”
“They tried, ma’am.”
Thurston nodded. “I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.”
“Not your fault.”
“Kane said you knew him. The Ghost.”
“Lieutenant Dan Best. Former SBS. I came across him on a mission in Mosul years ago. Went missing in Somalia.”
“What happened?”
“He had been crippled by his captors. He asked me to kill him. I couldn’t. I wanted to get him out, but Grayson told me to leave him. Along the way, I picked up a foreign fighter. He was British. She told me to kill him, but I thought the intel he could give us would be valuable. I was about to put him on the chopper when one of the others put a bullet in him. On her orders.”
“And she took you off the street in Mosul?”
“Yes. I owe her for that. As soon as I’m upright and we’re back in El Paso, I’m going to find her.”
Thurston looked concerned. “About that…”
Thurston never got any farther since the commotion that erupted in the main area drew her attention. “Shit, what now?”
Edison had found them, and this time, he’d come with a team of black-ops specialists. Six men held their weapons on the team in case of trouble. The National Intelligence commander smiled callously. “You’re all going to prison. Be thankful it isn’t one here.”
“What for?” Axe asked.
“Disobeying a Presidential order, for starters.”
“I didn’t hear him give it.”
“It came from me.”
“Yeah, but you can tell us any old shit, and how would we know that it’s true? Besides, you aren’t in our chain of command.”
“Chain of command?”
“Yeah. Thurston, Jones, and then the President. Fuck off.”
Kane tensed.
“What?” Edison blurted.
Thurston said, “He’s right. That’s the chain of command. We do not take orders from you.”
“You do now since I’m taking over.”
“We are being disbanded and replaced, right?” Thurston asked.
“As of right now.”
“So we’re civilians?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have no authority over us. Fuck off.”
Edison waved one of his men forward. “Arrest her. She’ll do for a start.”
The room filled with shouting and chaos as weapons came clear of holsters and were pointed in all directions. The situation was one step away from becoming a bloodbath. That was when a dark-haired man wearing a suit entered the room.
“Put the weapons away!” he shouted, silencing the room. He had a British accent. “Allow me to settle this once and for all.”
“Who are you?” Edison snarled.
“Noah Bancroft, MI6.”
“What do you want?”
Bancroft reached into his pocket and took out a piece of paper. “I’m here to stop you from causing a major international incident.”
“What?” Edison looked confused.
“The piece of paper I have here explains it all. But in case you can’t read, old chap, it says that everyone here is a citizen of Great Britain, and they are in this country doing the work of Her Royal Majesty’s Government.”
Axe chuckled. “I knew I loved that old girl.”
Edison snatched the paper from the SIS officer. “This is horseshit.”
Bancroft winked at Thurston, who smiled at him in return. He said, “In case you’re thinking about saying what the hell and ignoring that piece of paper, I have a team of SAS specialists outside, waiting to transport these British citizens back to their home country.”
Kane saw Edison’s face grow darker with rage the farther he read. He looked up, screwing the paper into a tight ball. “You won’t get away with this. The United States government will do everything in its power to put you all behind bars, and I will be out front leading the charge.”
“You come after us and expect to get spanked, Edison,” Kane said to him. “As you already know, we’re not that easy to apprehend.”
“There will come a time when no one will be able to help you. Any of you. And when it does, I’ll be there waiting.”
“Have a nice day, Mister Edison.”
With a wave of his hand, Edison and the others left. Thurston turned to Bancroft. “What is going on?”
“Like I said, you’re all officially citizens of the UK.”
“How? What?”
“Hank Jones. He’s going to work for the Global Corporation, a private contracting firm owned by George Peacock the Third. The government uses his people for different things across the globe. Hank Jones reached out to him, he pulled some strings, and here I am. One thing about Peacock. If you work for him, he’ll back you all the way, provided you operate within the bounds of the law.”
“What will we be doing?”
“Exactly what you have been doing but with a view to change. England is having a surge in drug importation right now, but there will come a time when you might be required to do other things such as personal protection details or hostage rescue in countries where British military need to be kept clear.”
Thurston looked at Kane, who couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Cara stepped forward and said, “What about my son? Kane’s sister? Carlos’ wife and children?”
“Anyone with family they care for or live with is automatically covered,” Bancroft replied. “Your son is now a British citizen as well.”
Thurston turned to her people. “All right, it’s up to you. The choice is yours. I know some of you have families, but you also heard what Edison said. If any of us go back to the US, he’ll try to lock you up.”
Arenas stepped forward. “You will need to get my family.”
“Only have to make a call, old chap.”
“I will go.”
“Me too,” said Axe. “Can you get me a meeting with the queen?”
Bancroft smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
One by one, the team came forward and agreed. The only ones left were Kane, Cara, and Ferrero.
Kane said, “We’ll all be together?”
“Yes.”
“Luis?”
“I don’t see we have any choice.”
“Cara?”
“I go where you go, Reaper.”
“Then I guess we’re going to England.”
“I’ll arrange transport,” Bancroft told them.
Thurston nodded. “All right, everyone, listen up. Get all your personal effects together and leave the rest behind. If it doesn’t belong to us, it stays.”
Hunt said, “It’s been a pleasure working with you, ma’am.”
“You too, Bord. Say hi to Alex for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kane slapped him on the shoulder. “If I ever need help, Bord, I’ll—”
“Just holler, Reaper. We won’t be far away.”
The two men shook hands. “Luck, Bord.”
“Luck, Reaper.”
An hour later, the team was on a military Airbus A400M Atlas C1 transport to England and a new chapter in the lives of Team Reaper.
RAF Brize Norton, Oxfordshire, England
Hank Jones was waiting for them when they got off the transport. Beside him stood a thin man of around fifty with a balding head and tired-looking eyes. He wore a suit under a knee-length coat that kept out the cool breeze.
Thurston, Ferrero, and Kane walked over to them while the others mingled off to one side. “Good to see you, sir,” Thurston said to Jones.
“You too, Mary. I hear you had a successful mission.”
“One less terrorist in the world, sir, and we got Knocker back. Can’t go home, though.”
“Their loss is my gain, I believe,” the man beside Jones told her.
“Mary, this is George Peacock, the owner of the Global Corporation.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir.”
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“George will be fine. If we’re working together, I think first names are appropriate.”
“Thanks for getting us out of a tight spot, George.”
“Thank Hank. He was the one who convinced me I couldn’t do without you, and it seems he was right. I’d lost three men trying to find that terrorist.”
“You, sir?”
“Yes, the government outsourced the intelligence gathering on him. They came to my company to help out.”
Thurston nodded. “Sir, this is Luis Ferrero. He’s my second in command. And John Kane, the team commander.”
“Gentlemen, pleased to meet you.”
“You too,” Kane said.
“And the rest of your team.”
“Good people, every one of them, sir.”
“Fine, fine. We are based out of Hereford—”
“Just fucking wonderful.”
They all looked at Knocker, who was being wheeled across the tarmac by Morales in a wheelchair. “Good Lord,” Peacock muttered.
“How are you, Colonel?”
“Jensen.”
“Great, they know each other,” Jones grumbled.
“Don’t tell me, you’re involved in all this, right?”
“You might say that. How have you been?”
“How the fuck do you think?” Knocker growled. “I get taken off a street in Mosul, sold to a terrorist I could have prevented from becoming one years ago, and got tortured by a crazy cow with a bloody knife in South Sudan. Killed that fucker, though.”
“So, it’s about the same.”
“Yes, sir.”
Thurston gave Knocker a questioning look. “The colonel was my commander in the SAS for a while.”
“Say no more.”
“No, ma’am, it’s not like that. We played nice together, right, Colonel?”
“One of my best,” Peacock agreed.
“So, you’re contracting now?”
“Still working for Her Majesty.”
“Great to see you again, sir.”
“You too, Knocker.”
Rosanna wheeled him over to the others. Peacock turned to Thurston. “Once you arrive in Hereford, you’ll be assigned quarters on our base. We’re on the opposite side to 22 SAS Squadron base. I’ll leave you with Hank, and he’ll give you the rest of your orders. I’ll be seeing you soon after you all settle in. Make a list of what you need, from weapons to toilet paper.”