“Bullshit, Doc. Pardon my French, but you did what you always do, the right thing. In this case, it backfired, but that’s no reason to second-guess your nature. We don’t know anything about these people. For all we know they might have kidnapped your parents anyway. You saw their leader, perhaps that wasn’t part of the plan. They might have wanted this leverage over you regardless of what you did.”
Acton grunted. “I think you’re stretching it a little, just to make me feel good.”
“Did it work?”
Acton chuckled. “No. Continue.”
Kane laughed and Reading joined in. “Listen, as far as you were concerned it was art thieves, not some group with ties across the Atlantic and some ancient castle hideout à la James Bond supervillain.”
“Any idea who they are?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it. Langley’s cloning Laura’s phone. We’ll trace the activity and monitor it. For now, sit tight until the cavalry arrives and don’t contact anyone.”
“What about Mario?”
“Especially him. He’s almost definitely being watched.”
“Should we warn him?”
“No, then they’ll know we’re onto them.”
“Won’t they already know now that we gave them the slip?”
“Not necessarily. That loose end was taken care of.”
“How?”
“The less you know, the better. Let’s just say that right now, you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Ambasciatori Palace Hotel, Rome, Italy
Abbadelli listened to the recording, smiling. He loved his job. The shit that Langley could pull together on such short notice was jaw dropping at times, and this was no exception. No, the tech was nothing spectacular, at least not in this day and age, it was the fact that someone had come up with the idea, executed it and got it into his hands to implement it, all in a matter of hours, from the other side of the planet, was phenomenal.
He had returned to Acton’s hotel room and with his spare phone—for he always had one—played the recording Langley had sent him, instructions appearing on the screen as to what he was supposed to do.
Press play, open door.
He had entered the room.
Close door.
He had. A conversation between Acton, his wife, and their Interpol friend then played from the speaker of his phone, all three voice actors employed at Langley, their voices then altered by computer to sound as close as possible to the real thing.
Enough to fool anyone not expecting deception.
The end result were Acton and his wife heading into the bedroom to sleep, Reading on the couch, his snores now playing from the phone Abbadelli had been instructed to leave on the couch where Reading’s head would be. A sweep by another agent before he had arrived had determined there was a single bug in the suite, placed under the table in the living area, nothing in the bedrooms.
If the deception worked, anyone listening would assume the three friends had returned to their hotel room after a quick meeting with Giasson’s man, who they had apparently told nothing to about the kidnapping, then decided to get some sleep since they had none the night before.
It would hopefully be enough to fool their adversaries for at least several hours, perhaps more.
He carefully opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, gently closing the door, cringing at the click.
Let’s hope they didn’t hear that.
1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta HQ, Fort Bragg, North Carolina
A.k.a. “The Unit”
“Sir!”
Dawson hailed Colonel Thomas Clancy as his Commanding Officer exited one of the Operations Centers, an op obviously underway. Dawson had just finished reviewing the briefing notes sent by Kane and had transferred all the data to his secure phone. He hadn’t expected to run into the Colonel, though he wasn’t going to avoid the man.
“Do you have a minute?”
Clancy continued to walk away from him, though did deign him with a glance over his shoulder. “No, you’re on vacation. And I don’t want to hear from you, or of you, until you get back.”
Dawson grinned.
Blessing received.
“Yes, sir!”
Clancy disappeared into another office and Dawson headed for his car as he formulated a plan. If they were to infiltrate the castle, it would have to be a covert operation. He had a dozen men on Bravo Team, but he wouldn’t need that many. Half a dozen would be more than enough for any contingency.
And if shit truly went bad, it would leave six men to ride in and save their asses should it become necessary.
As he returned to the park behind the Unit, he thought of how he hated to leave Maggie, though it wouldn’t be the first time he had left her, his job demanding it, though it would be the first time he had volunteered to leave, out on an off-the-books mission for a friend.
Then give it to them.
He smiled at her words.
She’s amazing!
He loved his job and she seemed to love it just as much. They couldn’t really talk about it, though just the fact he didn’t have to lie to her about what he did for a living was such a relief. He had avoided relationships his entire career, not wanting to become attached to someone he may one-day leave as a widow. He had even spurned Maggie’s advances, but conspiring wives had encouraged her to keep at it, and he had eventually folded.
Best damn surrender ever.
He arrived at the park and strode toward his team, everyone eating, Maggie now at one of the picnic tables. Red rose and served him up a burger, handing him a Diet Coke. Dawson noted the beers had all been stowed, sodas and water the orders of the day.
“What’s the word?” asked Red as the other members of the team joined them.
Dawson took a bite and chewed for a moment before swallowing. He nodded at Spock. “Almost as good as mine.”
“Grill Master Corporal?” suggested Niner.
Spock cocked an eyebrow at Niner. “You can cook next time.”
“I don’t eat meat.”
“What’s that in your hand?”
“Sorry, I don’t eat meat I cook. You remember that one time I barbequed.”
Atlas rumbled a chuckle. “You redefined charbroiled.”
“Exactly. In Korea you never know if the meat is good, so you cook the shit out of it.”
Jimmy groaned. “You’re American. Your parents were South Korean.”
Niner stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my folks so well.”
“Just your momma.”
A chorus of “Oooh”s erupted, Niner snapping a kick at Jimmy’s head, it stopping at inch from his chin.
Jimmy didn’t flinch.
“I knew you wouldn’t make contact. Otherwise I’d have to tell your momma.”
Dawson laughed, swallowing the last bite of his burger then taking a swig. “Okay, here’s the deal. Professor Acton’s parents were kidnapped last night and he needs our help. It could be dangerous.”
“What else is new?” interjected Jimmy.
Dawson grinned. “Exactly. I guess that was redundant. Six man team heading for Europe in less than an hour. Volunteers?”
Every single one of the team stepped forward in unison. It made him proud, though he had never doubted they would. It was what they were meant to do, to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, though the doc would probably beg to differ on not being able to. There were only two civilians he had encountered in all his years in this business that he could count on in a firefight, and they were James Acton and his wife, Laura Palmer. With her wealth, she had hired a former British Special Forces colonel to head her security team while on dig sites, and after they began having some problems, expanded his duties to train them on how to use pretty much every type of weapon, as well as basic self-defense and other survival skills that had saved their lives more than once.
They were solid, reliable partners, but after what
he had read, there was no way he was going to let them go up against that castle and its occupants, even with Bravo Team. It was one thing to use the skills you had as a civilian to get your ass out of trouble, but you didn’t go rushing into it when there were trained professionals willing to do it for you.
These two professors had fought at their side before, even saved some of their lives, so every single one of his team owed them.
And they were eager to repay them.
“Okay, Niner, Jimmy, Spock, Atlas and Jagger, you’re with me. Red, I want you to remain behind with the rest of the guys on standby. There might be need for a team here.”
“No problem.”
Niner slugged Jimmy in the shoulder. “That’s from my momma.”
“She does like the rough stuff.”
Atlas high-fived Jimmy. “Good one, brother.”
Niner mock-glared at Jimmy then turned to Dawson. “So, where in Europe is this shindig?”
“Italy.”
“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to see Italy.”
Jimmy slugged him in the shoulder. “You’ve seen Italy. More than once.”
“Really, I’m terrible with math.”
“Don’t you mean geography?”
Niner gave Jimmy a look. “Okay, professor, geography. It obviously wasn’t very memorable.”
“You got shot at.”
“Huh. Maybe if I didn’t get shot at, it would stick out in my mind.”
Jimmy laughed. “Now that’s probably true.”
Dawson slapped his hands together. “Okay, say your goodbyes, pack your gear and we’ll meet at Fayetteville Regional in one hour. Expect to be gone three days so pack enough undies, Atlas, last time I had to lend you a pair and I never got them back.”
“That’s because your size medium barely fit over my calf, let alone my ass.”
Niner smacked Atlas’ ass. “I like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers can't deny. That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist, and a round thing in your face…”
Dawson shook his head as Niner continued to channel Sir Mix-a-Lot, shaking his own ass as he repeatedly smacked Atlas’.
“On that note…”
Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia
“Status?”
Leroux looked at his boss, Leif Morrison, as he entered the operations center. “Chief, we’ve got over one hundred possibles and we keep finding more as we access additional cameras. One came up as stolen so the FBI is chasing that one down.”
“To the exclusion of all else,” muttered Sherrie. “No way would pros use a stolen vehicle.”
“Maybe they’re not pros?” suggested Randy Child, one of the team’s newer, and youngest, members. A whiz kid on computers, even by CIA standards, he had proven to be a welcome addition. He just had to work on his brain-mouth barrier a little better.
Leroux shook his head. “Amateurs aren’t on two continents, coordinating an armed robbery of a university in Italy, killing six people including four police officers, and kidnapping senior citizens here. These are definitely pros, which means that vehicle is going to be squeaky clean.”
“So what are we looking for?” asked Morrison as he eyed the large list of vehicles on one of the displays.
“We need to narrow it down to no more than a handful so Kane can run them down on his own.”
Sherrie raised her hand slightly. “I’m doing nothing, maybe I can help?”
Morrison nodded, Leroux’s heart leaping as he realized she was about to head out into danger. “Do it.”
Sherrie bounced, grinning in delight. She loved her job, that much was obvious to Leroux, and she always jumped at the opportunity to go out on assignment. He just preferred those assignments be black boxes, not ones he would be monitoring.
Flashbacks of watching her being tortured during the coup attempt had his stomach doing flips.
She kissed him on the cheek, patting the other. “Love you.”
He smiled weakly. “Love you too.”
“Oooh,” said Child, his youth shining brightly.
Sherrie winked at him. “Jealous of your boss?”
“Insanely!” Child’s eyes suddenly widened and his jaw dropped as he looked at Leroux. “Umm, sorry, boss. I mean, well, umm”—his shoulders slumped in defeat and he stared at his keyboard—“just sorry.”
Leroux said nothing, instead exchanging a glance with a smiling Morrison. He waved a final goodbye to his girlfriend as she left the ops center, keeping his expression neutral while his insides leapt with pride at the fact she was his girlfriend and other guys found her attractive.
He caught Sonya Tong glaring at the door Sherrie had just left through, then glancing at him, her eyes immediately averted as she realized she had been caught.
I don’t think I’ve ever had two girls interested in me. Ever.
He let a slight smile slip.
Hell, I never had one until Sherrie.
Morrison cleared his throat, yanking Leroux out of his self-congratulatory fantasy.
“Sorry, sir,” he muttered. “Okay, let’s reduce this list. Eliminate all those with local plates. These guys will be from out of town.”
“Yes, sir,” mumbled Sonya, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Dozens of the list on the display began to turn red from green, the possibles quickly dwindling into more manageable numbers.
Getting there!
Maggie Harris Residence, Lake in the Pines Apartments, Fayetteville, North Carolina
Dawson held Maggie tight, neither of them saying anything. It was a scene repeated all too often in his job, and it was a scene repeated across America every day. The difference between a husband or wife going on a business trip and a soldier heading into combat was you were pretty much guaranteed your spouse was coming back unscathed from that business trip.
The soldier, you never knew.
Yet it never stopped them from leaving.
No matter how hard it was.
He let her go and she wiped some tears from her eyes. “Hey, I’ll be okay.”
“I know, you’re Teflon.”
“I’d prefer to be Kevlar.”
She laughed, swatting him. “You know what I mean.”
“I know, I know.”
She yawned. “Sorry.”
“Overdid it a little today?”
She nodded. “I think so, but it felt so good to be out.” She ran her fingers through her hair, over her scar. “And nobody was staring at my head, so I guess that was good. Gave me some of my confidence back.”
“That is good. If all the kids were able to ignore it, then you know there’s nothing to worry about.”
“You’re right, kids can be so cruel. It drives me nuts when I see kids pointing at someone who’s different and their parents doing nothing about it.”
“What drives me nuts is when you’re at a restaurant and they don’t control their kids. Did I ever tell you about the time my sister and brother –in-law took my niece to Denny’s?”
Maggie shook her head.
Dawson checked his watch. “Long story short, they were eating breakfast, quietly talking, and there was another couple with a kid, same age as Jenny—about five at the time. The kid was screaming and banging things and running around and the parents did nothing, just kept eating. And get this, they were feeding him some of their hash browns. On the table.”
“Huh?”
“They’d take handfuls and drop it on the bare table for him to eat. No plate, no paper placemat. Then he’d eat it with his hands, then jump up and go running around again. Apparently everyone was getting pissed off. An elderly couple got up, came over to my sister’s table and said, quite loudly, ‘You’ve got an extremely well behaved child’, then left. Sylvia said she was so proud that day. She realized just how blessed they were that they had taught Jenny how to behave from an early age.”
“She’s a sweet kid.”
Dawson looked at his watch. “Okay, enough stories, I really
gotta go. What are you going to do?”
“Oh, Shirley’s coming over with some wedding catalogues.”
“Uh huh.”
“Second thoughts?”
“Nope. You’re the colonel on this one. Just tell me when to show up, what to do, and I’ll try not to kill anyone or blow anything up.”
“Good. I doubt we’d get our deposit back if you did.”
Dawson grinned and gave her a peck, opening the door to her apartment before turning back toward her and winking.
“But I make no promises about the guys, especially Niner.”
Two blocks from Acton Residence, Germantown, Maryland
Kane browsed the feed from Langley, the number of possible vehicles reduced dramatically, the one flashing orange on his tablet eliciting a headshake.
Idiots.
He had tried to convince the Agent in Charge that it was a waste of time, but apparently someone at the Field Office had ordered him to devote his entire team to running it down. After everyone had peeled away from the Actons’ curb, it had occurred to him that the stolen SUV might be a genuine red herring, the kidnappers perhaps stealing a decoy vehicle just to throw the hounds off the scent.
A car pulled in behind him and he glanced in his rearview mirror then smiled, pressing the button to unlock the doors. He glanced in his side view mirror, giving Sherrie White the once over, appreciating her sleek form, thanking God that his buddy had found her first. No matter how much he loved sleeping with women, especially women as gorgeous as Sherrie, he’d give it all up—okay, maybe not all. A month or two?—to see his buddy happy.
And Sherrie definitely made his friend happy.
He’s one lucky sonofabitch. If he weren’t my best friend, I’d be trying to tap that hard.
He shook his head.
Do I really sound like Barney Stinson?
One of his favorite shows was How I Met Your Mother, and he loved the juxtaposition of an openly gay actor playing a serial womanizer.
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