by Sweet, Izzy
“How do you want me to get down?” I ask.
Do they want me on the floor? That seems a little dangerous.
He opens his mouth to reply but all I hear is a thunderous crack followed by a high, ear-splitting screech of metal.
My head jerks to the front but our car swerves sharply to the left.
“Get down!” the guy beside me yells and grabs me.
Yanking me out of the corner that gravity pushed me into, he rips my shoulder-belt to the side and shoves me down until I’m bent in half.
“Alpha car has been hit! Beta car is taking fire!” I hear Logan yell.
My nose is jammed so hard into my knees I try to sit up, but a big, heavy hand immediately shoves me back down.
“We’ve got more company up ahead!” the driver bellows.
“Fuck! They have us pinned in!” the guy beside me curses.
“What the fuck is that? Is that a fucking RPG?!” Logan yells in dismay.
A second later there’s a loud whoosh then our car is rocking and shuddering violently as something behind us explodes.
“Stay down! Stay down!” the man beside me yells repeatedly.
“Omega car has been destroyed! We have to engage, sir!” Logan says, sounding more and more agitated by the second.
Our car screeches to a stop and I rock forward so hard against my seat belt I want to puke.
“Get down!” the man beside me yells again and I scream back, “I am down, asshole!”
Someone, I’m assuming him, fumbles with the buckle at my waist then releases it. Untangling me from the belt, he pushes me down to the floor.
I tumble to my knees and glance up.
He immediately shoves my head back down.
Fucker!
“Stay there,” he orders. “Don’t move!”
Panting heavily, I stare down at the black carpet of the floorboards and my ears strain as I try to figure out what the hell is going on around me.
Doors pop open. The smell of burnt rubber and smoke drifts in.
“Targets at twelve o’clock, three o’clock, and nine o’clock,” the asshole who shoved me down barks.
“Don’t forget six o’clock! We’re completely surrounded!” Logan roars and the doors slam shut.
Gunfire immediately erupts. To my untrained ears it sounds as if hundreds of shots are being fired off.
Screams pierce the air, and multiple pings ring off the body of the car.
I press my cheek hard against the floor and start to pray that no bullets pierce through the armor. I’m not a devout woman, and I’ve committed many sins over the duration of my life, but I’m not ready to die yet…
God, please, I’m not ready to die yet.
Not when I just found Simon.
The door behind me is ripped open and a pair of strong hands grab me by the waist, dragging me kicking and screaming out of the car.
I claw at the carpet, at the seat, at the door. My nails catching and bending. But I’m no match for the strength behind my attacker’s arms.
I’m twisted around and the world spins as I struggle to free myself from the tight band wrapped around my waist.
“Let me go, you stupid fuck!” I screech, half in anger, half in terror.
Throwing my head back in an act of pure desperation, pain explodes behind my eyes as the back of my skull connects with my attacker’s nose.
The man holding me curses angrily and drops me to the ground.
My knees hit the pavement first and the pain that lances up my legs is so strong I’m stunned for a moment.
Then I remember if I want to live I have to fucking move.
Pushing myself up with my hands, I jerk my head back and squint up into the harsh sunlight to see a dark figure looming over me.
A rough, unfamiliar voice yells, “I’ve got the whore!”
Then something cracks against my head and the world goes dark.
19
Simon
A small stronghold in a town an hour outside of Garden City has caused me to lose Meredith. How the fuck does a small fucking rolling army lose out to these Saudi Arabian fucking bastards?
I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone. I knew I should have left her in the house where there was a chance the house’s security could’ve slowed down the attack until some of the inner circle could get there.
Pushing the disconnect button on the phone, I want to slam it into the console until it’s broken into a million pieces. But I restrain myself. It’s not Logan’s fault that all the men are dead, including him.
All I can do now is to keep us moving.
I push the button for the CEO’s number of Twin Star Security.
Marcus comes on the phone line quickly, but doesn’t even let me speak.
“What the fuck’s going on, Simon… We’ve lost contact with all our point leads… Shit, hold on,” Marcus shouts into the phone.
“How fucking dare he put me on hold!” I scream as I slam the pistol in my other hand against the center console.
“See what’s going on first, brother,” Johnathan says in a calming voice. “We can castrate him later. We need his help right now.”
He called me brother, is that what I am now to him? A brother in arms? Does he know the ache that slams into my heart thinking of what losing Meredith would do to me?
Looking over at the bearded man, I want to slam a bullet through his neanderthal fucking skull, but he’s fucking right. “Fucking go faster. They are headed for the airstrip, I know it in my gut.”
“You got it,” he says as he pushes the gas pedal down hard to the floor.
To lose her now, it’s unthinkable. Unconscionable.
I simply must get her back.
This is my woman, my world. A world that will cease to exist for me if anything were to happen to her.
The rolling convoy we’re riding in is pushing it hard. Three fully armored cars. The Saudi’s are heading out of Garden city and thank fuck we are heading in the direction they are leaving.
Directly between us is a small airstrip that has enough landing strip length to accommodate a private jet. That will be Asad’s escape route.
I don’t know what the fuck to do beyond hope to hell we can gain the advantage in speed. But I doubt it. We simply can’t get there fucking fast enough due to us being so god damn heavy from the armor the vehicles carry.
“Simon, vehicle feed shows a bobtailed semi-truck ramming the lead vehicle into a building. Second vehicle had an RPG—” Marcus comes back on the line to say.
“I could have told you that, Marcus!” I shout into the phone. “If you wouldn’t have put me on fucking hold!”
“I—” he starts to say, but I quickly cut him off again.
“Get all the men you can to Landow Airstrip. It’s off of 87. I do not want you to fucking delay, get them mobile now. You won’t get there in time, but we’ll need the backup if this becomes a drawn-out firefight.”
“Simon…” he says hesitantly, “this is what negotiators are for at this point. Insurance will not cover her kidnapping if we engage with them at this point.”
“Marcus, you will be on the helicopter out there with your men or I will personally visit your grandchildren’s schools and remove them from your life. Do you understand?” I hiss out.
“Simon!” Johnathan shouts at me to get my attention. Wagging his finger, he says, “No kids. You know how Lucifer feels about that now.”
The silence on the phone gives me the bargaining chip I need though. Taking a long breath, I say into the phone, “Marcus, scratch that about your grandchildren. Just get you and your men to the landing strip now. We’ll cover any costs.”
Pushing the disconnect button on the phone, I look over to Johnathan. “Never fucking correct me again.”
“Fuck off, Spider. You know the rules of the game. I’m all for killing the fucker’s whole family, I ain’t got a qualm against it. I’ll do it because you’re a brother, but you know the kids rule. They’re sacred.
”
“Brother…” I say quietly.
“Yeah, man, you’re one of us now. You got yourself hitched. Nothing left to do but drink beer and gush about soccer practice if you have daughters. Or cheer the boy on in football practice,” he says with a laugh.
Even now he considers himself a fucking family man. The fucking uncouth, disgusting bastard who’s killed almost as many men as I have killed, thinks of himself as a family man.
How interesting.
Am I one now? I’m positive with the lack of protection, Meredith has been impregnated. I felt it happen the first time we were intimate. A father. Me…
Fuck.
“I will not allow a child of mine to take part in something as lowly and dirty as football,” I say simply.
“Dude, you won’t stand a chance. Charlie is already begging me to let him play in the peewee football league. Beth is on me to let him since I got to play when I was a kid. Dirt does kids good, Simon. It helps their immune system or some shit.”
Whipping the Tahoe to the right, we speed past a minivan full of kids and one tired looking father. The convoy behind us pulls the same move as we race towards the airport.
One child, only one fucking child. There is no way I won’t eat my young if I have more than one.
Being a father… What would that entail? Love and commitment to the child, of course. A proper guidance and support system.
Do I have those qualities in me for a child of my own? I think I would. But do I want them? Do I want a lifetime of shit, drool, headaches, and other baggage?
I want Meredith and all that comes with her.
Dammit, we’re still moving too fucking slowly.
Pushing the button on my phone for Lucifer, I listen to the phone ring one time before it’s picked up.
“Simon, I’m pulling the rest of the men off their details. I have a helicopter lifting off in five minutes.”
“Good. I’ll update my men. Make sure to bring extra mags of ammunition. We’re not low, but refills are going to be needed. James is in the tailing car, but does not have a sniper rifle with him.”
“Got it, I’ll bring his baby,” Lucifer says before disconnecting.
Was it just me or did Lucifer sound almost giddy speaking about coming out to help us?
Probably is. He hasn’t been out much when it comes to these operations since Lily. Family life has slowed him. Johnathan and Andrew are the same way… They both fell into the roles Lucifer has been handing out to them.
Damn. Damn all this shit to hell. We need more men and a much larger network. Shit like this should have never happened.
Why do we always seem to be unable to keep our women safe?
“Lucifer’s coming in with the helicopter, but I doubt he’ll be able to catch them,” I say to Johnathan.
Pushing the button on his neck, he breaks the radio silence. “All teams, Alpha will be heading in on the chopper, bringing the baby for our playboy.”
“Shit, yeah! I need my sexy little filly to play with,” James says over the comms.
“Christ on a hotdog bun, James. Couldn’t you act serious?” Johnathan responds with a laugh.
“Let’s be professional for this. The Saudi’s will be packing heavily. Possible RPG’s, as well as full auto weapons,” I say as I glance down to my hands.
I have a pistol and a phone. This isn’t going to be enough.
“Fuck RPG’s, or well I would say that if I had my girl,” James says over the comm. “But I got enough distance with the HK416 I’m using now. I should be able to get some cover if Andrew can drop me on the other end.”
“Roger that. Simon send over the map of the landing strip if you can,” Andrew says.
Pulling my pad out of a backpack, I flip through multiple maps and eventually have to use a Google Earth map.
Sending it to them, I say, “Best I have right now.”
My proximity alarm on my phone starts beeping, telling me that we are now within a fifteen-mile range of the Saudi’s convoy.
They have three fast moving BMW’s right now heading to the airstrip. I can’t tell any more than that because we’ve gone past the traffic cameras I had control over.
Fifteen miles until I see her.
“The Saudi’s have entered the fifteen-mile radius of my tracker on Meredith,” I say to the men. “They should arrive at the airport two minutes ahead of us.”
Fuck, that is a lot time for things to happen that I have no control over. This is a small-time airport, no security except some old man with a dog.
“Clear. I’m looking at the map. Give me one minute to see if I can get up high enough to shoot downwards,” James says.
“Johnathan, let me pull up in front of you,” Thad says over the comms, “I’ll try to take lead in front of the plane if possible. Me and the Harrison boys can cover you guys that way.”
“We have two oncoming cars. Thirty seconds, then pull ahead,” Johnathan says over the radio.
“Simon, I’ve got a high spot. It looks good, but I can’t be positive. Andrew will pull into the rear. He’s going to be a bit late to the party, but he can drop me at the radio tower there. I won’t go too high, but enough to get some height,” James says.
“Roger,” I say over the comms.
“Let’s get the boss’s sister before they get a chance to get any funny ideas,” Andrew says in a gruff voice.
“Nah, that’s Simon’s girl, man,” James says over the comms with a laugh.
“What? Are you fucking getting hitched, Simon?” Andrew asks.
“Die in a fire, all of you,” I say with annoyance.
I don’t need all these assholes knowing my personal business. If they knew the depths of the soul-crushing ache that I feel when she’s not near me, I would never live it down.
“That’s a negative for me, Simon. I got rid of the clap a couple of months ago. No more burning pee-pee for me,” James snickers.
I swear if that fucker was in the car with me right now I would slit his fucking wrists and piss all over his skull before I detached it from his fucking idiotic neck.
“Gentlemen… and James…” Lucifer’s voice comes through the comms and instantly the chatter ends. “Let’s get this wrapped up as cleanly as possible.”
Everything goes quiet for us. We’re close to death. I can feel it in my heart. We’re going to fight for our lives right now. The bloodshed will be significant.
I rarely wear tactical gear like I am right now, and the damnable bulletproof vest on my chest is constricting me in a way that keeps me from breathing normally. I’m not completely out of my element, but it’s close enough.
Is the constricting of breath though from the vest like I want it to be? Or is it Meredith being in harm’s way?
Today started out quite pleasantly. I made passionate… is it love… to Meredith. I don’t know if that word fits.
It’s not all consuming enough.
Love to me is a pitiful metaphor for the feelings I have for this woman. It’s all-consuming, soul-crushing, and mind breaking. Is that love? I have no clue.
I trusted the men of Twin Star to keep her safe while I went out to take care of the Yakuza.
Both failed.
We investigated a small laundry shop the Yakuza were supposed to be operating out of. The only thing we found were five men who put up a very large fight. No information was gathered. Everything on the computer hard drives we found was destroyed.
Pouring a jug of sulfuric acid on a hard drive tends to corrupt all the stored data.
We took out three men. One of them had a shoulder wound, and I’m betting it was my shot from when the rider got away on the bike. The other two took their own lives.
Took their own damn lives.
Leaving us with yet another cold fucking trail.
Information on the Yakuza who are hitting us is too fucking small at best. They’re using ambush tactics. Hit us and run. I’ve tried pulling out information on which family it is that links t
hese guys, but so far, I’m grasping at straws.
We need an equalizer. Something to get us back on an even playing field.
Lucifer was right to say we needed more men, we do. We’re like a rubber band stretched too thin. You can see something’s about to snap if we don’t remove some of our burdens.
And right now, as much as I would rather skull-fuck my own eye, bringing in his dog… would be our best bet.
Damn.
* * *
“One minute out. Fence on the left is the landing strip’s property,” I say over our radios.
“Roger that,” Andrew says.
“Roger,” Thad says shortly after.
“How far is she away, Simon?” James asks.
Checking my phone, I say, “Quarter mile. It shows she’s on the landing strip. They are getting ready to move into takeoff position.”
“Got it. I’m going to have Andrew stop soon. I need to get a visual of the plane’s tires. I want to shoot them out. What’s the chance they will hurt Meredith if their plane is disabled?” he asks.
“Eighty-twenty,” I say after pushing the talk button. “Asad wants revenge too much, and his father wouldn’t be happy with a corpse coming back. They have too much honor at stake.”
“Got it. I’ll try to hit the pilot first. I’m taking out a wheel… then the engine if it comes down to it. She ain’t going anywhere.”
“Copy that. If you get the pilot, take out anyone that comes in view through the cockpit window,” I say.
The entrance comes up rapidly upon us. Thankfully Johnathan is proficient enough in driving this large vehicle that he doesn’t tip us on our side as he takes the turn.
Slamming the pedal back down, I get thrown back into my seat as he guns it towards the already ripped off gate hole.
“Get ready with your gun,” he growls to me.
“Pull as close to the plane as you can,” I say. “But we need to be careful in case they have another RPG they can use against us.”
Pulling up my HK417, I eject the full clip to check it one more time. Never hurts to be thoroughly prepared. Popping it back into the slot, I make sure the safety is turned off.