“Incompetent fucking Frenchies!” the General exploded. “Goddammit.”
Jones, seeing the meeting going sideways from his own agenda spoke. “That really doesn’t excuse Captain Oliver—”
“Shut the hell up, Adam!” The General addressed Tex next. “Tell me you got a fix on al-Waleed, Tex.”
“I don’t, sir.” Tex paused. They could hear typing in the background. “But I have a fix on Almasi, and he’s not in Qatar or France. He’s in Washington D.C.”
Nate jumped out of his chair. “The fuck you say!” He leaned over the phone placing his hands on the table. “Where, Tex? Where is he right now?”
Tex rattled off an address. “That cell phone he uses to communicate with his handler in the French government has been pinging steadily there for the last hour.”
General Davis looked at Nate who glanced at Natalie.
“That’s the safehouse. My men are there. Emma is there. How the hell did you miss him coming into the country, Natalie?” Nate’s voice grew in volume with his anger.
“Call your men and get your ass back there now. We can’t let him get away this time, Captain.” The General stood, clearly rattled. He turned stern eyes on Natalie and Adam Jones. “And you two better damn-well figure out how you fucked up. You have one job. Keep the goddamn terrorists out! Homeland Security should’ve been alerted immediately.”
“Yessir,” Natalie replied. She left the room.
Jones got up grabbing the file folder he’d carried in from the table. “The Secretary is going to want a full briefing.”
“And I’m sure you’ll spoon-feed it to him and then wipe his ass later, but for now, you keep this on the down-low, Adam. If this spins out into the public, it’ll cause a panic. People will get hurt, innocent civilians, and it will be on your head. I’ll make goddamn sure of it!” The General pointed a finger in Jones’ face punctuating his remarks.
Nate watched the exchange, his cell phone already in hand. General Davis turned angry eyes to Nate. “Well? What are you waiting for? Dismissed!”
“Sir. Yes, sir!” Nate saluted the general, and then he ran out of the room, hitting speed-dial as he made his way quickly to the SUV issued to him on loan from the State Department.
The phone rang twice before Eastwood picked up.
“What’s up, Captain?”
“Eastwood, al-Waleed’s got someone watching the house. He’s there now. Tex confirmed it.”
Shock echoed in Eastwood’s voice. “That motherfu—”
“Where’s Emma?” asked Nate, frantic. He got into the SUV and cranked the ignition, pulling out of the parking lot.
“She’s in the kitchen. Hold on.” There was a pause and then, “Shit!”
“What? Dammit, Eastwood, what?”
“She was here, Nate, I swear. Skyscraper and I were in the living room. She went into the kitchen to get coffee, but now she’s gone. And the side door is open.”
Nate felt the air leave his body. Eastwood’s words were like a punch to the gut. “Find her! I’ll be there in ten minutes. Canvas the neighborhood and call Doc and Hollywood. Tell them to get back there pronto. That’s a damned order!”
Chapter 15
“Show me the closed-circuit footage,” Nate demanded as he strode into the house.
The safehouse was wired with inconspicuous security cameras all around the perimeter. Eastwood tapped the keys on the computer screen and pulled up each feed. In seconds, he found what they were looking for. On the east side of the house, the camera facing the sliding glass door to the kitchen showed that door opening. Emma leaned out, looking both ways before stepping out and turning left. She walked up to the kitchen window sill where she scooped a small ball of fluffy fur in her hands. It was a kitten. Nate grunted, biting his tongue. She’d gone outside for a kitten. As she turned to come back in, a figure dressed in black from head to toe wearing a ski mask ran up behind her, one arm snaking around her waist while the other hand clamped over her mouth. She dropped the kitten who ran off, terrified.
The figure dragged her brutally to a gray van where he threw her inside the waiting vehicle. When Emma rallied, trying to push past him to safety, he punched her in the face, sending her reeling into the van’s interior. He then slid the door shut, locked it from the outside, and quickly drove away heading north.
The team remained silent while their leader fumed. They knew how painful it was for him to see that happen to his lady. Eastwood and Skyscraper were particularly quiet.
Pacing, Nate ran a hand over his face. “Tap into the city’s CCTV network and get me a fix on that van,” he said.
“On it,” Eastwood replied.
Without missing a beat, Nate speed-dialed Tex. “Tex, she was taken from the house.”
“Shit. I’m sorry man. What do you need?”
“I need to know where he is. Tell me you’re still tracking that cell phone.”
The sound of keys tapping in the background filled the silence as Tex did what Tex does. “It’s pinging off the north tower near the Union Market warehouse district. He’s there. Closest I can figure is the southeast corner.”
“Thanks, Tex. I knew I could count on you.”
“Go get your girl, Outlaw.” Tex hung up.
Nate addressed his team. “Saddle up, boys. We’re not letting this fucker get away. Shoot to kill, but if any one of you puts Emma in danger, I’ll throttle you myself.”
“We’ll get her, Captain,” said Skyscraper. “And we’re sorry. This is our failure,” he said, standing next to Eastwood.
“Yeah. It’s on us, man.” Eastwood stood up next to Skyscraper, accepting full responsibility.
Nate glared at his men. He was angry as hell, but he’d seen the footage. Emma didn’t obey orders. She thought she’d be safe stepping out to rescue a kitten. A kitten! And she should’ve been, too. No, the only person truly at fault here was him. He’d been the target, not Emma like he’d previously thought. Only because of him was she in danger at all. He’d put her in harm’s way because he’d been drawn to her. Something about her had pulled him in, opened his heart. That was the amazing gift she’d given him and what had he done in return? Got her kidnapped. Twice!
He swallowed. Mea culpas didn’t come easy for him, especially as team leader. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who brought her into this mess. Turns out the French asset, Jamal Almasi, tipped off al-Waleed as to our whereabouts. It’s all about revenge because we killed that terrorist-fuck’s little brother in Prague. He was the one guarding Penelope Rand. Right now, we don’t know if Almasi betrayed our location in London willingly or not, but he’s tracked us here and he has Emma. No doubt on Waleed’s orders. That’s his cell phone signal Tex tracked and right now, he’s in a warehouse in Union Market. For how long, we don’t know, so let’s stop giving each other hand-jobs and let’s get our asses on the move.”
“Yes, sir!” They replied.
Within five minutes, they were loaded up in the SUV and on the road.
The old warehouse district was designated as historical by the city. Much of it was being revitalized, but the Depression-era buildings still maintained the appearance of bygone days. Several were occupied with meat processing plants, produce storage, and one was an old fish packing business. Doc drove the SUV to the southeast corner at Nate’s direction. In the passenger seat, cradling his M4 Carbine assault rifle, Nate scanned the vehicles parked around the backs and sides of each building. When they reached the last one, they found what they were looking for. A gray van sat parked on the side of the old seafood warehouse near the back door.
“That’s it. Pull around back, Doc,” Nate said. “Eastwood, you and Sky take the back entry. Hollywood, you and Doc take the front. Ghost,” he looked back over his shoulder. “You’re with me at the side door. Everyone get in position and on my mark—storm the castle. We’re going to send this cockroach running.”
“Roger that,” they replied.
In the busy district where truc
ks moved in and out, no one noticed six men exiting a dark, government-issued SUV dressed in camo and black. Each carried high-powered assault rifles, were strapped to the teeth with weapons, and protected by Kevlar. The men fanned out, moving quickly in pairs to their designated entry points.
Nate and Ghost stopped outside the side door.
“Check for wires,” said Nate.
Ghost nodded. He inspected the hinges and slid a razor-thin card through the crease between the door and the jamb. “No wires there. Stand back.” Ghost reached for the doorknob as Nate stepped back and to the side. Carefully, he turned the knob and cracked it open an inch, checking the visible areas. He glanced over his shoulder. “No explosives.”
“Good.” Nate clicked the communication device at his shoulder. “Everyone clear?” He knew the men would perform the same check on their entry points per training.
“All clear, Captain,” said Hollywood.
“Clear here, Outlaw” replied Skyscraper.
“Then on my mark. Three, two, one!” Upon Nate’s countdown, Ghost threw the door wide and entered low, ready to shoot. The side door led to a small office. There was no one inside.
“Clear,” he said.
Nate moved hard on his heels, sweeping the room. “Through there,” he pointed with the tip of his rifle at a second door. It was an interior office door with a glass panel. They could see into the hallway and entered carefully, each facing the opposite direction.
“Which way?” Ghost waited for the command.
Nate glanced left. He knew Hollywood and Doc could handle the front end. “Right.”
They moved right with Nate taking the lead. Ghost protected his back.
A series of offices and closets lined this hallway. All were empty. Frustrated, Nate doubled back in the opposite direction. If Almasi was here, he was somewhere in the interior of the warehouse.
When they reached the other end of the hall, they found a door leading to the fish packing room. It was massive, filled with conveyor belts that had not been used for some time. The stench of rotten fish still lingered on the stale air as specs of dust danced in the dim light filtering in from windows placed high in the walls. Across the room a door opened.
Nate and Ghost took aim immediately but relaxed a notch when they saw Hollywood and Doc entering.
“Anything?” Nate asked.
“We didn’t find a thing,” said Doc.
Suddenly, the light turned on and the conveyor belts screeched into motion.
“What the fuck?” Ghost began sighting around the room looking for a target.
“He’s here,” said Nate. “Stay sharp, gentlemen.” Each man moved closer to cover.
The large hooks hanging at the far end of the conveyor on an overhead rail began to move. The rail extended inside a massive freezer behind plastic sheeting. Something small and wriggling came through those plastic flaps. It was suspended on a hook heading for the large steel saw.
“Emma!” Nate jumped, running to her. “Ghost, cut the power!”
Ghost looked for the power switch while Doc followed Nate. Hollywood searched the room from his vantage point providing cover for Nate and Doc.
The hook from which Emma hung upside down by her ankles, inched closer to the large rusty saw.
“Emma, I’m here!” Nate jumped up onto the conveyor belt.
Emma, her face bruised a bright purple around her eyes, bucked wildly. With her hands tied behind her back and tape over her mouth, she was helpless. Nate balanced on the conveyor belt between the saw and Emma. He had one chance to lift her shackled feet off the hook. Otherwise, she was headed straight for the spinning blade. He couldn’t let that happen. He’d die first!
“Ghost!” he shouted, bracing himself.
“I can’t find the switch,” he hollared back, flipping every switch he could find.
“Cut the wires!” Nate screamed, arms out ready to grab Emma around the waist.
Frantic, Ghost stopped searching for the right switch in the massive warehouse and instead, located the tangle of power cords tied together against the far wall. He aimed his M4 at the knot of cords and pulled the trigger. The deafening sound of machine gun fire filled the space. Lights went off. Some machines ceased, but the saw continued to spin and the line of hooks advanced.
Nate reached out, wrapping his arms around Emma and lifted, but the continued motion of the conveyor belt thwarted his effort. Her feet didn’t clear the hook. Nearly falling backwards, Nate spun around, repositioning himself to the other side, now desperately trying to balance and lift at the same time. They were almost to the deadly blade.
“Emma, when I count to three, kick as hard up as you can, okay?”
Emma nodded, fear filling her eyes.
“Good girl. One, two, three!” Nate lifted her body with all he had. Emma kicked up.
The ankle shackles cleared the tip of the hook and they fell onto the conveyor belt together, inches from the blade.
Nate rolled her over his body and threw her to the floor, his back now to the blade. Ghost fired off another round and the warehouse went silent as the power shut down.
Panting, Nate looked behind him. The rusty saw, now stilled, was one inch from his spine.
Sending up a silent prayer of thanks, he moved off the belt and dropped down to Emma’s side, pulling the tape off her mouth before gathering her into his arms.
“Nate, oh my God! Oh my God!” The words tumbled from her lips in a stream as he held her.
“Sssh, I know. I’m so sorry, Emma. I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
A slow clap interrupted their moment.
“Isn’t that touching?” A man’s voice cut through the silence.
Nate looked up. On the scaffolding above stood not Jamal Almasi, but Mohammed al-Waleed.
“You sonofabitch!” Nate stood, pulling Emma up beside him. He positioned himself in front of her. Waleed’s presence answered one question for Nate. Jamal Almasi was dead. It was his phone they’d been tracking, the one issued to him by the French government. “You really are a coward, Waleed, going after children and beating and kidnapping women.”
Al-Waleed didn’t take the bait. “Not a coward, soldier boy, but a great warrior who knows how to strike where I will do the most damage.”
“They’re innocent! Penelope Rand is not a soldier. Emma isn’t a soldier. Hell, for that matter, you’re not one either. You’re just a filthy fucking terrorist.”
The man smiled but it did not reach his eyes. He glanced to Nate’s right catching Ghost taking aim. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, haint.” Waleed raised his hand, showing the device he was holding.
Ghost ignored the insult, keeping the terrorist in his crosshairs.
“You’re not going to pull that trigger, Waleed. You’re too much of a pussy to die with us.” Nate caught sight of Hollywood and Doc out of the corner of his eye. Doc leaned out from behind a column, his hand pointing up at the far right of the scaffolding. Nate sent him a hand signal behind his back acknowledging the information.
“So vulgar. Just like all Americans. Low-down dogs underserving to live. No, I won’t be dying with you today. This is a remote detonator. Of course, if you shoot me and my fingers accidentally push the button, we’ll all die, but I still won’t lose. I’ll be meeting Allah while you all will burn in hell like the infidels you are.”
“Allah would be disgusted by you. Read your fucking Quran, Waleed. Just like our Bible, it says ‘thou shalt not kill.”
“And what of your God? You kill. Or else why are you a soldier, soldier boy?” Something shifted in Waleed’s eyes. “After all, you killed my brother!”
Nate knew he’d hit a nerve. “You mean that weak piece of shit holding a little girl hostage? Yeah, he went down fast. Bullets cut through Tariq like a hot knife through butter.”
“Shut up! You are not worthy of speaking his name!” Al-Waleed’s face twisted with rage.
“And what kind of big brother are you? Why was little b
rother even there? You want to blame me for his death, but who put him in harm’s way? Who failed to protect him? You, Waleed. You are to blame for Tariq’s death. So why don’t you shove your detonator right up your ass?”
Waleed reached behind him, whipping out a Sig 9 mm tucked into his pants. He pointed it at Nate. “You will not die first, you dog! No, but you will suffer. You will watch your whore die.” He aimed left over Nate’s shoulder at Emma.
Shots fired. Nate threw Emma to the ground, covering her body with his own.
Waleed fell forward, flipping over the railing and landing hard on the concrete below with a loud crack.
Eastwood came running across the scaffolding, Skyscraper at his back.
Below, Hollywood and Ghost rushed to retrieve the detonator, ripping out the wires. Once safely diffused, they sighed with relief.
“Later days, motherfucker,” said Eastwood, looking down on Waleed’s dead and broken body.
Skyscraper patted his shoulder. “Cracked like a pinata. Score one for the good guys. Oh, and I ain’t worried about going to hell, either. I only shoot bad guys.”
“Amen, brother.” Eastwood high-fived Skyscraper.
“You okay down there, Emma?” Skyscraper asked.
Emma looked at the men, tears staining her cheeks. She offered a wobbly smile. “I’m here.”
Eastwood leaned on the rail. “We’re sorry, Emma. We were supposed to be looking out for you.”
Staring at the broken body of al-Waleed, Emma shuddered. That could very easily have been her…or one of the men. Could have been Nate. The thought made her nauseous. “It’s not your fault, guys. I went outside. You told me not to, and I didn’t listen. I thought I’d be okay just going to the window.” Emma hiccoughed as fresh tears fell. “I’m so sorry.”
Nate pulled her close, kissing her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. He came after you because of me. Because we killed his brother rescuing a little girl.”
Rescuing Emma (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 10