Supernova

by Desiree Holt

  They arrived at the hangar the next morning at eleven o’clock. Once they had their things on board, Rocket pulled out his cell.

  “I’m calling Mallory to bring her up to date,” he told the others. “I told her I’d let her know when we were leaving.”

  “Just be sure she knows we won’t be going straight from the airport to the house where she is,” Eagle reminded him. “Tell her what the plans are, ask her if she can hold on just a little bit longer and we’ll get her out.”

  “I know that,” Rocket snapped. “And so does she. She’s not stupid, for god’s sake.”

  “Sorry, man.” Eagle held up his hands. “I know it, but just touching all bases here.”

  “Sorry.” Rocket blew out a breath. “And I know being personally connected to a case changes a person’s perception. I need to get my SEAL on.”

  “It’s always on.” Blaze tapped him on the shoulder. “And never fails us. Go ahead and make your call. Eagle’s reaching out to Ed to tell him we’re about fifteen minutes from liftoff.”

  Rocket headed toward the back of the plane so he’d have some privacy. He had already confirmed with Mallory that they were on the job and that they’d made a connection that would be a great help. He’d kept names out of it, since no matter how secure he tried to make them, a cell phone could still be hacked. He hit speed dial for Mallory’s number. It only rang once before she picked up.

  “Rocket?” The word came out in a whisper.

  “It’s me. You okay?” He shook his head. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Stupid question. Of course you aren’t okay and won’t be until we get you away from Santa Marita.”

  “I’m better since I know you’re on the job,” she assured him. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re ready on this end. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. We’re wheels up in fifteen. Saint, our pilot, tells us it’s about a seven-hour flight to Manzanillo.”

  “And what happens after you get there?”

  “Eagle, one of my partners, has a strong connection there who’s very familiar with Santa Marita and with Barrera as well. He’s been working on this and will be picking us up at the airport. Then we’ll be setting up our extraction plan.”

  “Rocket, listen.” The strain in Mallory’s voice was evident. “First you’d have to get me away from this house, and I don’t see how that’s possible. We know Barrera has eyes on us all the time, even if we can’t see them. I’m either hiding in that tiny attic or on the roof and the Albados are going about their business walking on eggshells.”

  “We’re totally aware of that. I promise you. Our contact knows Barrera and is well aware of the person he is. He’s also scoped out the situation. And I think I have a suggestion that might work, but I want to work it out with the others to be sure.”

  “He knows him?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry. They’re not friends, even if Barrera might think they are. Ed was a SEAL, like the rest of us, and he still believes in the SEAL Code of Honor. He’s not going to break that. And he wants to screw Barrera as much as we do.”

  There was a short pause.

  “I believe you. I know you wouldn’t lie to me. But I still don’t know how you’ll get me out of here.”

  “You leave that to us,” he assured her. “We’ll get it done. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that we’re on our way. Are you in danger if you stay in the house?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so. Inez has me hiding in the attic and I’ve got a gun.”

  “A gun?” He tried not to shout the words. “What kind? Do you know how to handle it?”

  “Yes,” she assured him. “After Afghanistan I took lessons and I try to go to the range once a week if I’m not away on a story.”

  “Okay. Just try not to shoot yourself instead of the bad guys.” Rocket tried to make it sound like a joke, but he definitely wasn’t laughing. He hoped she meant it when she said she had training and practice. “And let’s hope sincerely you don’t need it.”

  “I’m with you. Well, fly safely.”

  “Always.”

  He hung up, reluctant as he was to break the connection. If—no, when—they got her safely out of Santa Marita, he was going to do what he should have done five years ago. Pull out all the stops to make sure they were together.

  He thought about the SEAL Code of Honor he’d mentioned to her. It was something they all repeated when they officially became SEALs, and still lived by.

  “I voluntarily accept the inherent hazards of my profession, placing the welfare and security of others before my own. I serve with honor on and off the battlefield. The ability to control my emotions and my actions, regardless of circumstance, sets me apart from other men. Uncompromising integrity is my standard.”

  “Hey, Rocketman,” Eagle called out to Rocket. “It’s one fifteen. Takeoff time.”

  “I’m set.” He moved forward and buckled himself into one of the plush seats. “Everyone else ready, too?”

  The big engines on the plane which had been warming up, roared to life. The plane moved slowly out of the hangar, rolling over the sensor that automatically closed the big door. They paused on the wide apron Galaxy had commissioned along with the runway that the plane now turned and headed down. Gradually, they picked up speed and were airborne, climbing a path to reach their cruising altitude. When the bell dinged to show they were at forty-one thousand feet—regular cruising altitude for private passenger planes—all four men unclicked their seat belts and headed for the galley and the hot coffee that had brewed while they were climbing. Then, instead of returning to their seats, they grabbed their laptops and settled at the polished mahogany piece of built-in furniture that served both as dining table and a conference table. With laptops open and awake and coffee next to them, they were ready to go to work.

  “Eagle, you Skyped with Ed again, right?” Blaze asked.

  “I did.” He clicked the keys on his laptop. “Ed sent me a list of places for us to identify on the island. I just sent them to our shared folder. Pull it up and take a look.”

  Having an antenna installed in the body of their plane was one of the first things they’d done after purchasing it. As they flew, the antenna linked up with cell towers, connecting to the nearest transmitter on a rolling basis. It was the main thing that had prompted the men of Galaxy to go with their idea of a flying office. Their laptops were state of the art and backed up with additional security in their homes. But meetings with clients were always held on the plane, because for those, Galaxy wanted utmost secrecy and security.

  The men opened the list of places, divided them and went to work.

  “He’s even got a picture of the house Mallory is staying at,” Viper commented. “Hmmm. Santa Marita looks like every other similar place we’ve been in. No surprise there.”

  “The key is going to be figuring out how we get her out of there,” Rocket told him. “She said Barrera’s got eyes on the house, somehow, and I’m sure he does. So we have to a workaround there.”

  “I guarantee you Ed’s come up with something for us,” Eagle told him. “That was always one of his strengths. Looking for ways to do the seemingly impossible.”

  “He’s also marked off the marina just in case,” Blaze said.

  “And he wants us to be familiar with the main streets and a couple that lead to the outskirts of the city itself,” Viper added. “So let’s get to it.”

  As the plane cut through the clouds and swept along the blue sky, they pulled up the maps Ed had sent, more recent than the one accessible to the public, and began a segment-by-segment search. Rocket focused on the location of Inez Albados’ home and its surroundings. The houses were built on a hillside, each street slightly higher than the one below, the buildings crammed close together to use up every inch of space. The only space was the very narrow alleys that ran along the backs of the rows.

  But Rocket reminded himself that they’d been in situations like this before. Taliban villages weren’t that muc
h different, just not quite as colorful. His SEAL team had snuck in and out of target villages without detection, at least for the most part. They’d been in hostile territory, after all, and the enemy wasn’t just sleeping or hanging out. But like all the SEAL teams, his had been trained well and now he was more than grateful for it.

  From what he could tell, there weren’t a lot of cars. Of course, there wasn’t much room to park them, either. Some houses, though, had single-car garages below the first floor. The Albados’ house was one of them and Rocket used his electronic pen to mark it. He hoped Ed had closeups so they could see if there was a way in there. Or a way out.

  They studied the area immediately around the house as well, looking for places where they could be trapped as well as spots where Barrera could have stashed his spies. Rocket thanked god for all the missions they’d done as SEALs that had prepared them for this. In all the clients they’d taken on in the two years since they’d formed Galaxy, this was the first time they’d had to plan a complicated extraction. Even extracting Jim and Nita Rosen from Mexican kidnappers hadn’t been that complicated, because they’d been dealing with a small group of criminals…not an army with a leader who had taken over a whole country.

  Still, if they looked at this as similar to a mission against the Taliban, it would make it a lot easier to plan. He went back to the map, enlarging certain areas, tracing routes with his digital pen and making notes in his phone to ask Ed about.

  As he focused on the various bits and pieces that made up Santa Marita, he spotted something that kicked his brain over. He’d have to see what Ed had to say about it, but an idea was taking root in the back of his mind. They’d only have so many options, but he had a feeling they could make this one work. If, of course, Ed was able to get them the things they needed. If the man was everything Eagle had said and everything he said about himself, they should be able to pull this off.

  About three hours into the flight, Eagle, who also had his pilot’s license, went forward to the cockpit to relieve Saint and give him a chance to hit the head, stretch his legs and get a bite to eat.

  “We on time?” Rocket asked.

  “As close as can be,” Saint told him, taking a swallow of coffee. “We’ve had great weather and a tail wind, which also helps. So where are we with the plans?”

  Blaze gave him a rough outline of everything so far, including the study to find a way to extract Mallory Kane from the house she was hiding in. While his partner was talking, Rocket leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and let all the information sift through his brain. Ed would be the one to have the final say on the plan. It was his territory, and from what he’d told them, he knew it better than the back of his hand.

  Whatever the situation, he swore to himself he’d get Mallory out of that house, out from under fucking Barrera’s nose and out of that fucking country. His ass was sore from kicking himself for the last two days because he’d let five years go by without trying to find her and reach out to her. He’d certainly had enough dreams and sexual fantasies that she’d never been far from his mind. After I’m out, he’d kept telling himself. After the SEALs, he’d repeated when the urge to look for her hit him.

  But he never had. Missions, and assignments and…whatever…had come along and he’d been trapped by his own sense of duty and obligation. Now he wondered, what if they never rescued her from Santa Marita? What if Barrera’s men killed her during the rescue process?

  What if?

  What if?

  What if?

  “Rocket?” Blaze’s voice burst into his thoughts. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Agree?” He looked at his friend and frowned.

  “Uh-huh.” Viper dropped down into the chair across from him. “Just as I figured. Did you leave your brain in Tampa or just part of it?”

  Rocket wanted to shoot himself. This was no time to be distracted or let his mind wander.

  “I’m good. Let’s go over again what we’ve figured so far. And, Eagle? You need to contact Ed and give him our estimated arrival time and tell him what we’ve picked up in the hours we’ve been studying those maps.”

  “Getting right on it.” He opened his laptop again, and in a moment the clicking of the keys sounded.

  Saint went back to the cockpit to take over the controls again and Rocket poured himself another cup of coffee. In a moment, Eagle slid into a chair at the table across from him.

  “I’m getting ready to text Ed. Saint says we’ll be landing on time and I want to let him know. Manzanillo does not have an FOB terminal, but there is space for private aircraft to land, to park temporarily, to refuel and to overnight. And they do have rental car counters.”

  Eagle’s computer dinged and he hit a key.

  “Okay, Ed says let him know when we land.”

  The rest of the trip, they were mostly silent. For the moment, they’d said all there was to say until they reached Santa Marita and scoped out the situation themselves, and went over things with Ed in person.

  There was fresh coffee in the galley, but Rocket avoided it, knowing he didn’t need anything else to jack up his nerves. He was antsy enough as it was. He hadn’t been this on edge since his first mission as a SEAL, but they weren’t usually this personal. How, he wondered, could he be this twisted up about a woman he’d spent a few hours with at the most and hadn’t seen for five years?

  Because she made that kind of impact on me. It’s my own stupid fucking fault I haven’t seen her in all this time. I was so used to passing women off as casual encounters, but after five years I have to accept the realization that there was nothing casual about my time with Mallory Kane.

  He moved to one of the armchair seats, buckled in, tilted the chair back and closed his eyes. Before all his missions as a SEAL, he had learned to shut out everything around him and focus only on the mission itself. That was what he was doing now, mostly to calm an unfamiliar feeling of unease. This was more than just a mission. This was Mallory, and his chance to find what he’d carelessly let drift in the wind for five years. What a stupid shit he was. But he was determined to make up for it now.

  * * * *

  Playa de Oro International Airport was a large, modern airport with an efficient and visually pleasing terminal and most services that people would require. When Saint landed the plane, they were directed where to taxi and park. Then they had to pass through customs, juggling their luggage and acting like businessmen on a holiday. They’d locked their weapons in the plane, knowing that making arrangements to get them through customs would call unwanted attention to them. Ed had told Eagle he’d have plenty of firepower for them, and they were counting on that.

  Then they headed to the rental car counter that Blaze had called before they took off. He’d been assured the vehicle he requested, an SUV, would be waiting for him. The rental company was as good as its word, delivering exactly what he’d requested. Finally they were at the Grand Plaza and checking into their rooms. They made sure to discuss their fishing opportunities while they checked in and tipped the bellboy just enough over the usual amount to maintain their image as wealthy businessmen.

  The rooms, as expected, were lavish in every detail, but Rocket knew that for the men of Galaxy, that wasn’t important. The place and the trappings were just part of the image, places to park their bodies at night when and if they had the chance. He changed into casual beach clothes, as he knew his partners were, and headed to the bar. The others were already there, having managed to grab a corner table as some people left and ordered drinks.

  As soon as he placed his order, Rocket stood up.

  “I need to check something outside.”

  The others all nodded, knowing exactly what he was doing. He headed through the lobby and out of a door that led to the rear of the hotel and the pool. At this hour of the night, there weren’t too many people taking advantage of it. He’d had an itch to talk to Mallory since they’d landed, but not knowing who might be at the airport and could overhear him, he’d f
orced himself to wait. He hadn’t even trusted the hotel room, suspicious bastard that he was. Of course, that was how he stayed alive.

  He was able to walk over to a corner away from the others, positioning himself against three palm trees in large pots grouped there, and pulled out his cell. He’d already added Mallory’s number to his speed dial list, so he punched it. Two rings and she answered.

  “Rocket?” She was whispering, as usual. Just the sound of her voice, even low like this, somehow settled him. Stupid, he knew, since she was still in so much danger.

  “It’s me. We’re here. Well, almost.”

  “What does that mean? Exactly where are you?”

  “Manzanillo. Just a short boat trip from Santa Marita. Tomorrow we’re meeting with our contact and I’ll know more after that. How are things there? Are you good for at least another twenty-four hours?”

  “Maybe.” There was a pause, as if she was thinking. “I’ll make it work. Barrera’s men haven’t been back, although I think Inez’s parents expect them to bang on the door any moment. But I get the feeling they’re waiting for something.”

  Rocket frowned. “For what?”

  “Maybe for me to try and escape this house so they can grab me. Or worse, grab Inez and use her to get to me.”

  “They don’t actually have proof you’re there,” Rocket reminded her. “They didn’t find you when they searched the house. Thank god.”

  “No kidding. But how long do you think they’ll wait before they come back again? Barrera isn’t someone to just let this go by the boards.”

  “We’ll have you out of there before then.” Rocket hoped he was telling the truth. They had a very small window of time. He looked around, relieved to see that no one was paying much attention to him. And he’d been speaking in a very low voice.

  “I’m counting on it.”

  He disconnected and returned to the bar, sliding into his chair.

  “Everything okay?” Blaze asked.

  “As good as can be under the circumstances.” He glanced over at Eagle. “I sure wish we didn’t have to wait until morning to hook up with Ed.”