by Kat Smith
He squeaked out a gurgled reply, “No, sir.”
By this time, everyone in the barracks was wide awake and in various stages of undress. When Johnson released the private, he rubbed his neck and leaned limply against the wall. “Jesus, man. What’s wrong with you?”
Johnson towered over him. “Don’t ever storm into a room screaming unless you want your head ripped off your shoulders.” He scrubbed his face. “I could have killed you.”
“Sorry, sorry, man.” He took two steps away. “Just doing my job, man.”
Devan called from the back of the room. “What do you need, Private?”
He gave Johnson a sour look. “Looking for Conner, Captain Conner.”
“You got her, Private.” Devan stepped forward. “I’ll ask again. What do you need?”
He scurried toward Devan. “You have an urgent call in the communications center, Captain.”
The energy in the barracks amplified as the team watched as Devan tugged on her uniform and stepped into her boots.
She glanced at Alex in the adjacent bunk. The only sound in the large room was the sound of her boots thudding on the floor as she met the private at the front of the room. “Lead on, Private.”
Devan trailed the private to the brightly lit communications center. Several young doe-eyed desk soldiers who’d never see any action manned the consoles. She remembered being that naïve once and thinking that she was going to change the world. However, it wasn’t long before she realized that the cogs of the government and the military spun slow and sometimes stopped altogether.
She surveyed the bored faces as she passed. One soldier was reading a novel, another playing solitaire. Two others were by the huge coffee urn in the corner. She knew that if their mission―Alex’s mission failed―that these soldiers might find themselves in the middle of a war within weeks, maybe days.
“This way, Captain.” He led her to a cubicle in the back of the room currently being manned by a twentyish, drowsy-faced corporal.
When Devan approached, she stood and stepped aside. “It’s Colonel Morrissey for you on a secure line, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” Devan slipped the headset over her ears and turned to the screen to see Colonel Morrissey’s face on the screen. She was in what Devan recognized as the secure communications center at Fort Meade. “Good morning, Colonel.”
“Sorry to pull you out of the rack in the middle of the night, but things are moving quickly here.”
Devan could see the center was buzzing with activity, unlike the one here in the middle of nowhere. “No problem, ma’am. Any news?”
Mara got to the point. “I’ve just received news that your target is in place. You’re moving out tonight.”
Devan glanced at a line of digital clocks. Local time was just after 0500 hours. “We’re ready to go, ma’am.”
Mara took a document from a soldier. “Your helo will be on the tarmac at 2100 hours.” She looked back into the camera. “Get your team prepped. We’ll have a pre-mission meeting at 1800 hours for the entire team.” Mara glanced over her shoulder. When she turned back, she spoke in a low voice. “The big guns from NSA, CIA, and ICC will attend the pre-mission meeting and will be crawling all over each other trying to take point on this.”
Devan didn’t reply and waited for the colonel to continue.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what they think. You know what to do and how to do it. Your orders come from me…only me. Is that understood?”
Devan nodded. “Crystal clear, ma’am. I’d have it no other way.” Devan nodded for the camera. “We’ll get it done, Colonel.”
“I know you will, Captain. We’ll be monitoring on this end, and we’ll have your back. Go get their man and let Alex work her magic.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
Mara flicked her gaze to each side again before turning back to the camera. “How’s the lieutenant? Any concerns?”
“None at all, Colonel. She’s steady.”
Mara sat up and snapped a nod. “Godspeed, Captain. We’ll see you on the other end.”
The screen went blank, and Devan sat a moment contemplating the upcoming mission. She pulled the headset off and walked out of the communications center. She turned in the opposite direction from the barracks. She needed a few minutes to herself to push down the nagging feeling that she’d had in her gut.
Chapter Seven
The Stealth Black Hawk helo flew through the pitch-black sky on the way to a small town on the coast of southern Russia. The helo would drop them off at the LZ and retreat to a safe zone in the northernmost strip of the friendly country of Azerbaijan. Even with the Black Hawk’s top speed of two hundred twenty miles an hour, if anything went wrong before the planned exfil, it would take the recovery team a minimum of twenty minutes to reach them.
The CIA had been crystal clear that if they were caught on the other side of the border, it would cause an international incident, one they were not willing to acknowledge and certainly not admit to. Everyone on the team knew the risks and the dire consequences.
If anyone was captured, he was on his own. All insignias, flags, nametags―anything that could identify them as U.S. soldiers had been stripped away. They were using AK-12 Russian military rifles topped off with suppressors. Their sidearm was an eighteen-round MP-443 Grach, also Russian.
Their mission order came from the top of the U.S. government, but the moment they climbed into the helo, they belonged to no one. If the mission went south, there would be no heroic rescues, no recognition of the mission, no acknowledgment that they’d ever existed.
Devan gave each member of her team a long-studied look. They were quiet and focused on the objective. She noticed a thin sheen of sweat on Alex’s cheeks. She knew Alex well enough to know she was nervous but knew she would steady out when their boots hit the ground.
The pilot’s voice came through their com sets. “Five mikes out.”
Alex looked up, locked gazes with Devan and gave her a slight nod.
Devan responded in kind and spoke into her mic. “Weapons check.”
The team quickly checked and double-checked their weapons and divided into two groups, one on each side of the helo bay.
The pilot’s voice sounded an update. “Thirty seconds.”
The helo pitched and began to descend over a small clearing. Devan and Lena, on the opposite side of the helo, pulled opened the doors and felt the hit of cold air. Devan surveyed the neighborhood below and the adjacent LZ. Luckily in this poor region of southern Russia, streetlights were minimal and gave them the advantage of darkness and shadows. Devan pinpointed the safehouse and wondered if there were any surprises awaiting them. She mentally slapped away the feeling of trepidation as she pitched the fast rope out the door.
When the helo hovered and steadied, Devan ordered them out. “Go, go, go.”
One by one, the team dropped silently to the ground and quickly moved into a wooded area and knelt in the shadows. Devan watched as the helo rose and vanished into the darkness. Their lifeline was gone, and they were on their own.
Devan held the team down in the woods and waited until the few lights that had blinked on in some of the surrounding houses extinguished and the sleepy occupants went back to bed to grab a few more hours of sleep. She hoped Jacob, the idiot CIA operative who got himself busted, would be awake and prepared for their impending arrival.
When Devan was satisfied that their path was safe, she signaled her team. They silently slid in and out of the shadows and stopped on the inside edge of a thick stand of juniper trees that abutted the fence along the rear property line. They scaled the fence and dropped to the ground, made their way to the back of the house, knelt, and waited. Seconds later, a click echoed in the darkness, and Devan saw Jacob peer out the back door and raise a finger to his lips.
They silently climbed the steps and into the house. Jacob led them through the kitchen and into his apartment. Jacob whispered to Randell, but he only pointed toward Devan. She
balked when she saw his brow raise and didn’t need to hear his thoughts to know he was surprised to see a female leading the team. She shook off the irritation and stepped beside him.
“We have a bit of a problem. The neighbor, she’s home.” He pointed to the common wall separating the two apartments.
Devan whispered into her mic informing the team, “The neighbor is on site. Keep it quiet, not a sound.” She caught Alex’s gaze and gave her a hand signal to move into the bedroom to get to work. Devan took position just inside the bedroom door as the others spread out to cover the windows and doors.
The glowing screen of the laptop on the desk cast the only light in the apartment. Devan stood guard in the doorway, so she could watch her team and Alex. “Okay, get to work. Make it fast.”
Alex inserted a flash drive into the computer and whispered her status into her mic. The ICC team in Fort Meade would be listening from the Tactical Operations Center, better known as the TOC. “Starting deployment.”
The clicking of the keyboard sent Devan’s nerves on end. “That’s really loud.”
Alex turned, gave Devan a piercing look, then dug into her bag and pulled out a silicone keyboard. She plugged it into the computer and got back to work.
Devan whispered, “Thanks.”
Without looking up, Alex responded, “You’re welcome. Now be quiet and leave me alone, so I can work.”
Devan motioned for Jacob to join her in the doorway. “You sure you didn’t pick up a tail?”
He rolled his eyes, insulted to be questioned by a female. “I do know how to avoid detection, Sergeant.”
“Captain,” she corrected him and saw his scowl.
“Captain,” he whispered sourly. “I’ve been doing this job since you were in diapers. I think I know how to avoid a tail.”
The TOC was crowded with her team, as well as analysts from Payton’s ICC team, the CIA, and various support teams. She understood the politics but wasn’t pleased to have them crowding in on her operation. Payton especially resented the man standing stoically in the back room.
Frank Gilbert was a career CIA man. Even though he looked to be in his mid-fifties, his dull gray military haircut made him look older. He multitasked as he leaned against the back wall watching the operation unfold on the video wall and double thumbing it on his smartphone. She’d asked him once to put the phone away as it could interfere with the other electronics in the room, but he’d just sneered and ignored her.
Payton was about to give him a choice of putting it away or getting out of her ops center when Mara stepped beside her.
“Let it go. He’s an asshole and not worth your time or effort.”
Payton gave him one last scathing look, then turned back and watched the feed as a Reaper drone flew high above the target relaying infrared images back to the TOC.
Devan and team glowed and looked like radioactive ants scurrying across the screen of variegated gray and black. When they were inside the house, Mara turned to the analysts busy at desks behind her. “They’re inside. I want to know if anything moves within a half-mile radius of that house.”
Payton walked to her team on the other side of the room. “Time the deployment and let me know when you see the connection.”
Devan checked her watch. They had been on the ground for fifteen minutes. “Sheridan, what’s your status?”
Alex didn’t turn but kept silently typing. “Halfway there, Captain.”
A flurry of movement by the kitchen door had everyone on full alert. Weapon ready, Devan raced toward the sound to find Lena shove a woman into the room. The terrified woman cowered as Lena pressed a gun against her back. “Please, do not hurt me.”
“She woke up, started snooping around.” Lena grabbed the woman’s arm when Jacob rushed over.
He turned to Devan. “Her name is Teona. She speaks some English. She won’t give you…us…any problems.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Teona, these people are friends. They’re here to help me.”
Devan didn’t know Jacob, didn’t know if she could trust him. She turned to Lena. “Take her next door. Kill the phone if she has one.”
Amped up, Lena shoved Teona toward the kitchen door, and the woman fell into the hallway. Lena showed her no mercy. “Get up. Move it.”
“Taylor, ease up.” Devan bent and helped Teona to her feet. “Washington, with me.” Devan took Teona’s arm and guided her back to the adjacent apartment.
Washington ripped the phone off the wall, leaving a jagged crater in the plaster.
“Check this place out,” Devan ordered while she led Teona to a chair in the mirror image sitting room of the apartment next door.
Blood streaked the woman’s leg. Devan barked into her mic, “Alligood, get in here and bring your kit.”
She knelt beside Teona. “We don’t intend any harm to you, ma’am. You just need to stay here, be very quiet, and everything will be okay.”
Devan searched her face for comprehension. “Washington, water.”
Washington slapped a bottle of water in her hand, and Devan twisted the cap off and handed the bottle to Teona.
The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties. The irises in her eyes were exceptionally dark, almost as black as the pupil. Currently, they were full of terror, but Devan supposed under different circumstances they could be full of mischief. The long slender fingers of her hands gripped the water bottle. She was a nurse, so she had to be smart and steady under stressful situations.
Devan hated collateral damage but knew it was unavoidable at times. She would deal with Lena later, but for now, she needed the woman to cooperate and stay calm. She studied the woman and tried to ease her stress. “What’s your name?”
“Teona Revazov.” Tears slipped down her cheeks; she gripped the water bottle so tight, Devan thought it may burst.
She didn’t sense a threat, knew she was simply an innocent bystander…a nosy bystander. “Why are you not at work tonight?”
Teona gave Devan a fearful look. “How you know when I work?”
Devan smiled and thought about spewing one of Director Cardina’s smart-ass comments but dismissed the idea. “Jacob. He told me you work at the hospital. You’re a nurse?”
Her gaze flicked toward the kitchen wondering why her new friend wasn’t helping her. “Yes. I work in children’s ward. I trade shift.”
Caring and empathetic, Devan thought. “I see.” She looked up when Alligood came in with his medic kit, knelt beside Devan, and opened his bag. Devan gave him a pat on the shoulder but kept her gaze on Teona. “I’m sorry you got hurt, but this man is going to clean and bandage your leg.” She stood and gave Teona’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We’ll be gone in a few minutes. Just sit here and let him help you.”
Devan looked down at Alligood. “Make sure she isn’t hurt anywhere else. Use your excellent bedside manner and stay with her.”
Devan retraced her steps to the bedroom where Alex was still working. “How much longer?”
“Five minutes maybe.” She was working fast but frustrated with the constant interruptions. “I can work faster if you’ll let me be.”
Devan was about to snap back a snarky retort, but her headset came alive. It was one of the faceless yet vital voices from TOC. “Captain, you have company.” There was a moment of silence followed by, “Seven individuals heading your way, front and back.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Devan moved to the window beside Lena and peered out. “Johnson, cover the foyer. Ward, the kitchen.” She double-stepped to the bedroom. “Alex, we have to go.”
Alex’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Just about done.”
Devan stepped closer. “Now, Alex.”
Sergeant Mike Smith, the ops watchkeeper shouted from the back of the room, “Colonel, seven unsubs approaching the structure.”
The Reaper drone captured a high-angle infrared shot as it hovered twenty thousand feet above the safehouse. Mara and Payton watched the mission go tits up
on the high-resolution monitor.
Seven glowing figures moved quickly toward the house from every direction. Chatter from Devan’s team filled the room in surround sound as they prepared for the breach.
Mara turned to her team. “Where did they come from?” When no one responded, she turned and barked louder. “Will someone tell me where they came from, and why the fuck we’re just now picking them up?”
One of the analysts called out from behind Mara and Payton. “Came out of what the operative had indicated was a vacant house across the street.”
Payton cut her gaze toward Mara. She’d seldom seen the colonel in full ops mode. She knew this mission was personal, her protégé was leading the charge. Another factor was her own protégé, Alex’s, life was on the line, as well.
Mara cut a scorching look at the CIA agent in the back of the room. The smartphone was held idle in his hand, and he was now focused on the video feed they were all watching intently.
Mara’s focus switched to view the live helmet cam feeds on smaller panels surrounding the main video feed. She turned to the support coordinator. “How far out is the helo?”
He looked at his screen. “Just across the border, thirty clicks.”
“Get it in the air,” Mara barked. “Now!”
Chaos erupted within the safehouse. Ward’s baritone voice shouted through the headphone, “Captain? We have three approaching from the rear.”
Devan calmly positioned herself in the center of the chaos and dealt out orders. Alligood had heard the commotion and ran in to see what happened.
“Alligood, help Ward cover the back. Taylor, the front with Johnson.” She turned toward Jacob. “You go in the bedroom and take cover.” She thought about the innocent woman next door. “Washington, put her in the tub and cover that side of the house.” She kept her gaze on the doors to the foyer and backed into the bedroom. “Damn it, Alex. Now.”
A progress bar popped up and moved like cooling lava on the screen. Devan turned back to the sitting room at the sound of splintering wood. She knew from the sounds that the back door had been breached. “Alex?”