Phase one of his plan had gone off without a hitch. Although he hated to give credit to the vile preternaturals that had done his dirty work, even he had to admit they’d done very well. Using their unique abilities to circumvent the security systems that protected the world’s largest oil supply facilities, then destroying them simultaneously just in time for the morning news cycle in America was exactly how Daedric had planned it. They’d followed his instructions to the very last detail – surely a sign of how desperate they were to receive the payment he’d promised. Sipping his favorite cognac, Daedric allowed himself to bask in the glory of his victory while contemplating his next move. The timing had to be just right.
A tentative knock at his office door drew him out of his solo revelry. “Enter!” he said gruffly.
Juan Trejo, a lieutenant in Daedric’s army, stepped slowly into the room, leaving the door open behind him as though he might need an escape plan. He had drawn the short straw and, therefore, was the one that had to face their boss.
“Well?” Daedric asked, agitated by the interruption.
“They got away, sir.” The lieutenant stared at the floor as he spoke the words that would get him killed. “They had an escape tunnel and by the time we reached the place where it exited on the beach, they were already on board a helicopter that was sent to rescue them. We were able to secure everything that was in the house before the police arrived so we might get a lead from that, but…”
Trejo stopped mid-sentence as Daedric slowly rose from his chair. The contentment that had filled him only moments ago was replaced now with pure rage. All of his plans had been moving along perfectly, as though the entire world was following his carefully written playbook, yet he wasn’t able to destroy one little girl. The one person on this earth that was destined to stop him.
Daedric shook with anger as he spoke. “Tell Grainger to come in here and face me himself.”
“We can’t find him, sir.” Trejo almost whispered. “His vehicle was found outside their safe house, but there was no trace of Commander Grainger. Either they killed him before we got there or…”
Daedric’s anger exploded at the betrayal he suspected Grainger had committed. The entire room shook as he screamed. The beautiful picture window blew out in a barrage of shattered glass as bookshelves toppled to the floor. The air turned electric, and when Trejo tried to run to the relative safety of the hallway, the door slammed shut in front of him. Slowly turning to face his now furious boss, Trejo made the sign of the cross and his lips moved in a silent prayer. That prayer would remain unanswered.
Still screaming, Daedric glared at the man who’d had the misfortune of bringing him bad news. He thrust both his hand in front of him as though strangling an invisible doll then viciously tore that doll apart, simultaneously separating Trejo’s head from the rest of his body. The blood spatter on the wall and the growing pool of it on the Oriental rug succeeded in sating Daedric’s hunger for the moment. The expression of terror still etched on the severed head’s face gave him some small modicum of satisfaction.
Straightening his shirt, Daedric walked out of his office and into the hall where a group of his soldiers huddled together, curiosity getting the better of them. The men parted like the Red Sea at Daedric’s approach, each trying desperately to blend in with their surroundings so as to not draw any unwanted attention.
“Get that mess cleaned up,” was all he said, and every one of them ran to follow his orders. Let that serve as a lesson to them, Daedric thought. Now he had another lesson to teach—a lesson that would ensure that no one ever betrayed him again.
Chapter 34
Grainger hadn’t stopped fidgeting since they’d left the Navy base. His nerves were getting the better of him and Steve knew he’d have to get him calmed down before they made their move. Lincoln was driving the late model Crown Vic with Blackjack in the passenger seat. Steve and Grainger were in the back with the weapons.
“You need to get yourself under control, Bill. You’re no good to us, or your wife, like this.” Steve tried to sound reassuring and authoritative at the same time, but he could see that Grainger was clearly at the end of his rope. If he couldn’t pull himself together, he would put the mission, and the lives of his friends and former teammates at risk. “Maybe you should sit this one out. You’ve already given us the intel you have on Daedric’s property, and our plan, such that it is, can be re-worked so that the three of us can do it.”
Grainger immediately stopped his fidgeting and looked Steve in the eye. “Would you sit on the sidelines if it were your wife in there?”
Steve didn’t have to answer that question. Everyone in the car knew he’d move heaven and earth to get to his wife, so he just stared back at Grainger and nodded his understanding.
“Don’t worry guys. I won’t let my personal feelings screw up this op. I’m well trained and won’t risk your lives. You have my word.”
The uncomfortable silence that followed was quickly broken when Jack “Blackjack” Lane broke into uproarious laughter. “We’re about to walk into a house that’s owned by an evil demi-god and protected by an evil army. Yep! No life-risking there.”
“I see your point.” Grainger smiled. “And in case I forgot to say it already, thank you. I know none of you have to do this, but I’m really grateful that you are.”
“Hey. You saved Myrine’s life back at the safe house. The least I can do is return the favor.” Steve reached out to shake Grainger’s hand and the conversation was over. For better or worse, they were all going in.
As they approached the island they turned off Highway 17 and on to Ortega Boulevard, which ran the entire length of the eastern shore of the island. Daedric’s place was a sprawling two-story estate on the river about a mile onto the island. Normally, the sheer number of rooms in a mansion that size would make breaching it safely next to impossible. But in this case, they had inside knowledge of where Meghan was being held and could get in and out without needing to search the entire house. Grainger had also trained most of the men on premises so he knew their procedures even better than they did. With a little luck, the four of them would be able to pull this off quickly and quietly.
And those, thought Steve, were the proverbial “famous last words” that people spoke of.
Lincoln pulled their car onto Pawnee Street and parked under an overhang of branches. At this early hour the streets were deserted. Their target house was only a few hundred yards away and all four men busied themselves with checking their weapons, equipment, and communication devices. Once everyone was ready, Steve gave the go ahead order, and they exited the vehicle.
Meghan, according to Grainger, was being held in the pool house at the northeast corner of the property. Guards were posted both inside the building and at each of the exterior entrances. Their best chance of extraction was through a second story dormer window on the north side that was reachable by climbing a large oak tree that grew between their target house and its closest neighbor. Once inside, however, they would have to play it by ear.
Grainger had been allowed weekly visits to his wife and had used that time to not only reconnect with her, but to scope out her security should the opportunity to rescue her ever arise. Although each visit was limited to only twenty minutes, he was able to glean enough intel to be confident that the upstairs rooms were empty of guards. The downstairs was another story. Anywhere from three to five armed men patrolled that area at all times and, given the certainty of Daedric’s knowledge of his betrayal, they would be on high alert.
Their other obstacle would be finding Meghan. Although the building was a pool house, it was larger than most standard homes. They had no way of knowing which room she would be in, and the longer they searched, the less chance they had of remaining undetected.
Steve was nervous. Not only had it been many years since his last mission with the SEALs, the variables of this op were more than a four man team should face. The odds were against them and they all knew it.
Steve led the team through the trees and bushes along the northern property line of Daedric’s house until they reached the back of the pool house and the oak tree that was to be their entrance. Using hand signals, Steve directed his companions to stand guard while he climbed to a better vantage point. With his rifle slung across his back, he slowly ascended until his sightline was even with their target window. Seeing no immediate threat, he signaled the all clear to his team and began to shimmy across the heavy branch that would bring him to the roof of the pool house, just below the dormer.
A soft glow from inside the house illuminated enough of the room on the other side of the window for Steve to see that it was empty. Slowly planting his feet on the shingled roof, Steve used the branch to push himself up until he was crouched next to the dormer and out of sight of anyone that might be walking past the room’s open door. While he waited for the other men to make their way across, he inspected the edges of the window, looking for any wires that might have been attached to an alarm system. Seeing none, and with all four men now on the roof, he took out his knife and slid it between the top and bottom panes of glass. A moment later, he had the latch moved to the unlock position, and he and Lincoln raised the window until it was fully open. Steve was first to enter, then Grainger and Lincoln. When it was Blackjack’s turn, his broad shoulders proved too wide to fit through the small dormer window’s opening. After repeated efforts to no avail, it was decided that he would stay outside and await their return.
With Jack’s absence, the men chose to work in one team of three, instead of the original two teams of two that had been planned. It would take them longer to search the house that way, but safety had to be their first priority. They couldn’t help Meghan if they were dead.
As they made their way to the room’s only door, they trained their ears on the rest of the house. No sounds, other than their own breathing, could be heard. A quick glance out the door found no guards in the hallway, so the men crouched low and rounded the doorframe. The hall was lined with three bedrooms on the exterior side and a carved wooden banister on the other that looked over the living room a floor below. They were out in the open now and needed to move quickly.
Keeping as close to the wall as possible, they crept down the hall to the next bedroom. Lincoln gently turned the knob and pushed the door silently open while Steve and Grainger entered with rifles leveled. A king sized bed that looked like it hadn’t been slept in sat on the right wall. They checked the closet and the bathroom and, finding no one, left the room as silently as they had come in, closing the door behind them.
The next room also had a king size bed, but this one was in shambles. The comforter was half on the floor and the sheets were twisted up in a ball at its base. Grainger half smiled as he whispered, “This must be her room. She tosses and turns a lot at night.” With renewed hope they again checked the closet and bathroom, only to have the same results as the room before. She wasn’t there.
Exiting Meghan’s room, the three men made their way to the stairs at the end of the hall that led to the large living room below. Again keeping their backs to the wall with their weapons drawn, they slowly descended, expecting trouble with every step. At the base of the stairs they had a clear view of the entire room and the entrance to the kitchen, yet there were still no guards.
“Something’s wrong.” Lincoln whispered. “We should have seen someone by now.”
Grainger and Steve both nodded in agreement. The open floor plan made quick work of their search and they came up empty. No guards and no Meghan.
The look on Grainger’s face said it all. “We’re too late. She’s gone.”
“Yes. Meghan’s not in the pool house, but that doesn’t mean she’s gone. They could have just moved her.” Steve had hold of Grainger’s shoulders as he spoke, trying to keep him focused on the job at hand and not on the possibility of his wife’s demise. “You know Daedric. You worked for him for years. What would he do? Where would he take her?”
Grainger shook his head as though ridding himself of the images his mind had conjured of his wife’s death. “He knows that I’ve betrayed him and the penalty for that has always been Meghan’s death.” He paused for a moment while he struggled to stay focused. “But that would only be part of it.”
Hope shone in Grainger’s eyes as realization dawned on him. “He would want to use this as an example to the rest of his men. Something to remind them what will happen if any of them think to follow my lead. He’d need to make her death a show.” His words trailed off.
Steve cut in before he lost Grainger completely. “That’s good. Now, where would Daedric have a show like that? Think, Bill.”
Grainger was staring at the floor with a slightly glazed look in his eyes that told Steve he was teetering on the edge. Suddenly, Grainger jerked his head up and stared at Steve with sharp, clear eyes. “His game room! Daedric uses it for large group meetings with the men. He’s also played more than a few of his sadistic games in there. If he wants to make this point, that’s where he’ll do it.”
“All right, then.” Steve smiled. “Now all we need is a plan.”
Entering the main house added a slew of risks to the already long list of problems this extraction had. The enemy numbers would be high, the electronic security would be tight, and the sheer size of the place would make clearing it room by room impossible before they were detected. All of this, and they were about to lose the cover of darkness with the sunrise.
“Let’s go back out the way we came, rendezvous with Blackjack, and see what we’re dealing with.”
Once on the roof, Steve brought Blackjack up to speed on their situation. “I knew everything was going too easily. Nothing is ever that easy.”
Donning their binoculars, all four men made their way to the apex of the pool house roof, staying as low as possible so as to keep hidden from anyone that might be glancing their way. The view from the roof allowed them a clear line of sight to both the north side and the back of the main house. The rotund floor to ceiling windows of the game room on the first floor jutted out of the center of the back wall. Just inside those windows, in the center of what appeared to be a large stage, stood a petite blonde woman. She was wearing a long yellow nightgown and had her hands shackled to a column that stood behind her. Her shoulders were hunched in defeat and she appeared to be crying.
Steve put his hand on Grainger’s shoulder, silently lending him his support, and at the same time stopping him from jumping off the roof and running headlong into a group of men that would kill him on sight. Although time was not on their side, they couldn’t afford to rush this.
The roof of the glassed-in atrium where Meghan was being held doubled as a second story balcony and the four men decided to use it as their staging area. Reaching in his backpack, Lincoln pulled out a futuristic looking crossbow with a long coil of heavily braided wire hanging from it. He steadied himself on the roof, trained the sights on another oak tree and, after a making a couple of minor adjustments, pulled the trigger.
With a barely audible click and a long whoosh, a short, metal arrow shot out of its cradle at a slightly downward angle and flew toward the target tree, pulling behind it the braided wire. Three seconds later it was deeply imbedded in the three-foot-wide trunk. Lincoln secured the crossbow to the chimney of the pool house. After a quick test that the wire was taught, Steve slung a short leather strap over the wire and wrapped the ends around both of his hands. Blackjack swept the area with his binoculars and, upon seeing no guards, gave a quick nod of his head. Steve pulled his knees to his chest and allowed gravity to pull him along the wire toward the balcony above the game room. When the closest railing was only a few feet in front of him, he extended his legs and hooked his boots under the railing to stop his forward momentum before he sailed in front of any windows. Releasing one of his hands from the leather strap, he held on to the wire for balance and gently stepped down onto the balcony. A quick thumbs up to his team and he crept to the edge of the near
est window while Grainger flew toward him.
The room inside was dark, but Steve’s eyes were fully adjusted to the lack of light and had no problem determining that it was empty. With one eye on the window, Steve waited as, one by one, the other three men landed next to him.
Although their target was only a few feet below their feet, getting to her was going to be tricky. Steve pulled a small mirror out of his pack and lay down at the edge of the balcony. The lights were on in the room below so, with the mirror in hand, he reached through the railing to take a look.
“There’s a group of ten uniformed soldiers milling around the entrance, armed but with their weapons holstered. Looks like they’re waiting for someone.” Steve changed the mirror’s angle and continued. “Meghan’s hands are bound with a length of rope around the column. She doesn’t look injured. There are double doors right below me, behind the stage. I can’t tell if they’re locked.”
Once he finished his recon, Steve joined the others against the wall. “Look, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think our best bet is to use the doors below us. It’s still dark enough out here so, with the lights on inside, they won’t be able to see out the windows. The stage will provide some cover once we’re inside, but we’re going to need a distraction for those guards before we can move Meghan.”
“Leave that one to me, Teletubby,” said Blackjack. “Give me five minutes to set it up, then be ready.”
Steve nodded and said, “All right then. Go do your thing Blackjack. We’ll get Meghan and meet you back at the car. Be ready to give us some cover if it comes to it. And, Blackjack? Don’t get caught.”
A quick wink and Jack “Blackjack” Lane was standing on the railing getting a boost from Lincoln the rest of the way to the roof. He pulled himself over the edge and was gone.
Now Steve, Lincoln, and Grainger needed to get on the ground a dozen feet below them. Hanging from the railing wasn’t an option as they would be easily seen against the windows. So they donned their gloves, grabbed the braided wire they’d used as a zip line, climbed hand over hand until they were six feet away, and dropped quietly to the manicured lawn below.
Crossfire (Book 1) (The Omega Group) Page 14