It had been a full day; someone must have noticed they were missing.
But there’d been no rescue at full dark. Two hours later, there still hadn’t been a rescue after the amount of time necessary to cross the Israeli border and the Negev after dark.
Once their captors moved them, there wasn’t a chance in hell of them being found. He really didn’t want to end up as a shaky videotape on Al Jazeera. He didn’t want his mother to see that, and he definitely didn’t want Kara to see that.
His military life was a risk. He knew that every time he flew to battle. A combination of realism seasoned with a touch of denial let him keep flying. He knew that he protected his country in some way or other with every flight. This time taking out a terrorist cell, hopefully. He hoped the ground team had made this whole mess worthwhile at least.
And he was good at his job. He knew what he did counted.
The denial was there though, the need to believe that he was untouchable. The explosion that had killed his first crew had disproved that, but something like that didn’t happen twice to the same guy.
Except this time it had.
Justin knew that if he had the chance to do it again, he would. If he could make Kara and her family one minute safer by doing this duty, he would.
But that truck really worried him.
It stalled, backfired, started, and ground forward once more.
No question it was bad news.
Then there was a loud bang followed by a high hiss and the truck halted again.
Their guard had sat calmly and hawk-eyed throughout the entire approach.
At the latest noise, he sighed.
It sounded like the truck had just gotten a flat tire.
* * *
“Nice shot, Michael.”
Kara could see the truck sagging down at the front left. Nice shot, hell. He’d punched out a truck tire from a hovering helicopter a half mile from its target with no one the wiser. The shot was out near the theoretical limit of his PSG1 sniper rifle.
With the truck momentarily disabled, the two Little Birds split wide and went to ground.
Kara took one last look at the air base—still quiet—and concentrated on the World Heritage Site.
Michael, Bill, and Tanya hit the dirt moving before the helos were fully down. No need for Tom from The Activity on this mission. This wasn’t gathering intelligence; this was pure action.
This time, Kara felt no compunctions about what was going to happen. “Take ’em down hard,” she’d told the team during planning.
The Little Birds pulled up and back; the 5D was not going to lose another helicopter on the ground tonight. They started a slow orbit of the site, far enough out that there wasn’t a chance of them being heard. Close enough they could respond in seconds.
Kara offered a play-by-play over the DAP Hawk’s intercom as the two Delta operators and one Kidon agent worked their way forward:
“Inside the perimeter.
“Michael is coming in from the very back of the temple.
“Bill and Tanya are in position on opposite sides of the truck.
“Michael through the temple, closing on Alpha One.”
Before they engaged, they wanted to make sure that the people they were looking for were present and alive. A body recovery operation would be…something she wasn’t going to think about.
“Michael outside the Baptistery.”
* * *
Justin wished that the guard would at least blink. Not that he was going to start a rush on him, but it was unnatural for a man to be so watchful.
Maybe he slept with his eyes open.
Justin shifted slightly to one side and the guard’s gaze snapped to him, his rifle rising a few millimeters before settling back across his lap.
The boredom must be really setting in for Justin to even try something that dumb. The headache had worn off, but now he was getting plain old stupid. Don’t antagonize the man with the gun. Good rule. He must remember to tell it to Kara when he saw her. If he ever saw her again.
At least she knew how he felt about her. She had to.
He wished he’d proposed. Wasn’t that something a girl would want to know? That someone loved her that much. Seemed an important thing a man ought to say once it was true, whether or not she had high fences to deal with.
Kara would come around. She’d—
The guard jolted slightly and then looked at Justin strangely for a long moment before sagging forward over his weapon.
Justin was on the move in that instant. He’d mostly freed his leg bonds where he’d hidden his ankles behind the still-prone Raymond. He’d been wiggling his toes every few minutes to get circulation back into his feet.
As the guard flopped forward, Justin shoved off the wall in a diving roll over Raymond. He came up with his feet free and moving. It was more of a stagger, but it would get him there.
A man rose from behind the guard, extracting a long blade from the back of the guard’s neck.
He held up a finger to his lips, signaling silence, and Justin stumbled to a halt.
Then Colonel Michael Gibson keyed his mic and whispered, “Five secure. Proceed.”
Justin could hear the whispered spits of silenced rifle fire sounding nearby.
Then everything was silent.
* * *
Kara circled the ScanEagle at a thousand feet and watched the infrared signatures carefully. This low she could see the three shooters clearly. And she could see that there were multiple heat signatures beneath the tarp.
The truck driver and his assistant were down. A roving guard was also down.
“Checking back of truck.” She circled down low so that she could see inside the open back. “Boxes blocking view, but unclear if there are heat signatures.”
Tanya moved forward. She eased up onto the truck bed with a handgun out and leading the way.
There was one heat flash and then another.
Then she jumped down off the bed. “No longer is it a problem.”
“Clear,” Kara announced over the radio, but she continued to circle the area.
Moments later the DAP Hawk drove ahead fast and dove down to the dirt close beside the Baptistery. A group came hobbling out of the covered area.
Kara tried looking out the helo’s door, but she wasn’t wearing night-vision gear. She actually had a better view of what was happening close around her on the console across her lap.
Five mobile, one being carried.
Please no! She felt awful for thinking that, but please don’t let it be Justin.
Then she spotted the bright signature of the hat, but it was on the shortest figure in the group.
Had she been following the wrong—
They slid in the injured man. He cursed in a slurred voice, so he wasn’t dead. And he wasn’t Justin. Three more came aboard, including a woman wearing Justin’s hat.
Then, looking disheveled and so powerful she almost wondered if they’d picked up a Greek god of old along the way, Justin climbed aboard carrying a rifle in one hand and a pistol in the other.
A double slap on the hull and they were aloft.
She watched on her screen as the two Little Birds came in close. The shooters clambered aboard and the helos pulled back aloft.
In seconds all three of them were moving low and fast toward the Mediterranean coast. She set the ScanEagle to follow as well as it could.
The disabled truck and the dead Hamas agents would be left as a puzzle for the Israelis. It might suffice for them to explain the loss of the two F-16s the prior night.
“You gotta pay more attention, Cap,” Carmen shouted over the roar of the DAP Hawk’s rotors. “You dropped your hat when you tried to tackle Michael.” She pulled it off her head and slapped it down onto his.
Justin wrapp
ed his arms around his crewmate and kissed her on the nose.
Kara was so glad to see him alive that it was hard to begrudge him anything. But this was asking a hell of a lot.
Then he hugged each of his crew in turn. Holding Raymond’s hand for a moment as the others found some blankets to tuck around the injured man.
Then he looked up and caught sight of Kara.
* * *
Justin had to blink twice to be sure he wasn’t imagining things. He considered slapping himself, but that was too much out of the funny papers.
“Kara?” He barely mouthed it, but she heard all of the questions in it clear as day.
“Hey, Cowboy. You know you caused people a whole lot of trouble yesterday, what with getting yourself kidnapped and all.”
He tried to stand up and banged his head on the low ceiling of the DAP Hawk. Thankfully his hat gave him enough warning before he brained himself and was just shoved down low over his eyes. He worked it back loose and scooted across the deck to her.
His hand reached out tentatively and touched her on the arm. “You’re here!”
“No, this is just an illusion of me. Of course I’m here. Had to see how the other half lived.”
He’d never been so happy to—
He leaned around her control console and crushed her to his chest. To hold her for even a moment was the best—
“Hold on there.” He sat back on his heels and kept his hands on her shoulders. “What in the wide world are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Okay? Okay! Goddamn it, Kara! All this time, I kept telling myself it didn’t matter what happened to me as long as you were safe back aboard the Peleliu. How dare you risk yourself out here! What if I’d already been dead? You’re not supposed to face shit like that.”
Kara brushed a hand over his cheek. “You have the most beautiful face, Cowboy. I plan to spend a lifetime looking at it. But sometimes you are as dumb as one of your horses. I already killed you once; I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”
And she told him the story of the night he’d missed.
“You shot down Calamity Jane thinking I was aboard?”
She nodded.
And then she’d found him and flown to his rescue.
“I don’t deserve you.” It was the only conclusion he could reach.
“You’re stuck with me anyway, Cowboy. You did hear what I said?”
“Uh.” Justin tried to think of what she could be referring to. Her impossible bravery at taking the right action even when thinking he was aboard? That was even harder than merely losing your crew.
Or that he was dumb as one of his horses—
“Wait a sec.”
“Ah! The light dawns.”
“Now just hold on there.”
Kara folded her hands neatly in her lap and did her best to look sweet, innocent, and endlessly patient. He knew full well that she was sweet only when it pleased her, not one ounce innocent, and about as patient as a golden retriever waiting for a tennis ball.
“You said something about my face.”
“Did I?” Kara played innocent all of a sudden.
Well, two could play that game. “Huh, guess not. My mistake.” He rose to a low squat and turned to fall back into the seat beside her.
The punch on his arm felt like he’d just come home.
“You know, there’s one thing I can’t figure out.”
“Like how to ask a girl to marry you?” Kara teased.
“No, no. Wasn’t that.” He gave it right back.
She actually growled at him.
“Like how they knew exactly where my helicopter would be and to have a crew waiting that was capable of flying it. An MH-47G isn’t exactly a Toyota pickup. A man needs training to fly it.”
“That’s been bothering me too.” She leaned her shoulder against his as the DAP Hawk took a hard banking turn. “I didn’t know what it was until you said something, but it was like an itch.”
“One your future husband could scratch for you?”
“Asshole.”
“Love you, Kara.”
“Jerk!” But she leaned into his kiss plenty hard.
He could never tire of the taste of her or the way they responded to each other.
Even Raymond joined the round of applause from his crew by thumping his uninjured hand against the deck.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you one and all for staying alive and sticking with me. You’re the best flight crew alive.”
They cheered and laughed; it was a good moment.
But Kara wasn’t the only one with an itch, and he’d had a few thoughts about it during his long hours as a hostage.
Chapter 30
Kara found that it wasn’t hard to look as exhausted as she felt. She wanted a joyous reunion, a celebration of everyone surviving a difficult and challenging mission. She wanted a goddamn day off after what she’d just been through. The last time she’d slept just might have been on the car ride from Brooklyn to Maryland; she didn’t count the comatose hours during which she’d thought she had murdered Justin.
Instead she was standing beside the coffin and waiting for Michael to return with Major Willard Wilson.
They finally appeared down the far end of the hangar deck and began the long walk. It was still dark night, though dawn was coming soon. The deck was dimly lit by work lights, and the two figures moved in and out of shadow until they stopped before her.
“Thanks, Michael. Hey, Willy Nilly.” She did her best to sound genuinely disgusted. Not hard.
“Hey, honey. You doing any better? Hard thing you did yesterday, shooting down one of your own. Real tough.”
“You call me ‘honey’ one more time and you might be wearing a cowboy boot in your balls.”
“Sure thing, honey.” He grinned down at her and she barely resisted the urge to do as she’d threatened; would have under any other circumstances.
“I…haven’t been feeling well. But you wanted to get the records of the Ramon Airbase mission?”
“Yeah, I really do. I want to secure those before someone sees them who shouldn’t.”
“Uh-huh.” Kara kept her thoughts to herself as to who that might be. She turned to the coffin, keyed in the new code, and leaned down for the retinal scan. The bolts thudded aside. She swung the door wide and Major Wilson hurried forward.
On the threshold to the door he stumbled to a halt. “What the hell? You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Don’t you mean I’m supposed to be dead as a beaten horse?” Justin stood just inside the coffin’s door.
“No. Yes. No. You’re supposed to be—” Wilson clamped down on his tongue.
“I’m supposed to be in the hands of the bomb makers.”
“What bomb?” Wilson asked. “The Hamas cell was making nerve agent.”
Tom stepped out from behind the still-closed half of the door. “Funny thing, Wilson. I never mentioned what my team recovered at Ramon. Never said it was nerve agent.”
“Sure you did.” Wilson backed up and bumped against Michael.
“Neither I nor my team.” Tom stood shoulder to shoulder with Justin. “Then we analyzed who knew where the Calamity Jane would be landed during the operation. That’s a pretty small circle.”
“I’m guessing,” Kara joined in, “that based on their last course change, the Hamas flight crew were supposed to use the Jane to eradicate our ground team before they could be recovered and expose you with the information they forced from the Hamas cell buried in the American Camp.”
“Thing was”—Michael’s voice was so cold that it sent a chill up her spine—“none of them knew who you were. Just a voice on the phone. You were just a faceless moneyman to them.”
“If you hadn’t figured on
using the Jane to make a suicide run against our team inside Ramon Airbase—” Justin began.
“—we never would have suspected you, Willy Nilly,” Kara finished.
Wilson spun to face her, his face contorted with rage. “That’s the last time you call me that, bitch! I can’t believe you were so goddamn heartless that you’d shoot down your own lover. Guess spreading your legs for him didn’t mean shit! Should have fucked you myself—just a common whore!”
And he struck out at her.
Before Kara could even think to react, a massive hand clamped down on Wilson’s wrist, stopping his fist inches from her face. Justin twisted Wilson’s arm up and back, then used it to steer the man’s face into the steel side of the coffin. Hard.
Keeping him pinned there, Justin moved up close behind Wilson. “We thought about what you were planning—to dump a nerve agent in the American Camp food supply inside the security perimeter of Ramon Airbase.”
“Hundreds of dead Americans in a place where only the Israelis could be blamed.” Tom continued the analysis, because that was the part he had figured out. “You’d break up a beautiful friendship. By causing a major international incident between Israel and the U.S., we might even have pulled all support from Israel, destabilizing the whole country. Exactly what the Palestinian Al-Qassam Brigades of Hamas would want.”
“At first, we couldn’t figure out what motivated you. Murdering American servicemen and women. Betraying your country.” Justin’s voice was thick with anger at that.
“But then I had this little idea,” Kara said lightly, as if she were shopping for a scarf.
“We’d already done complete and deep background checks on you,” Tom put in. “We knew it wasn’t family or ideology.”
“Money, you fucking creep.” Justin hadn’t eased up on Wilson’s arm, and he cried out as Justin wrenched it further.
Kara was right, seeing Justin mad was not a safe place to be unless you were on his side. The easygoing cowboy wasn’t a facade; it’s who he was. But down inside he was the baddest papa bear imaginable.
“Of course.” Tom leaned casually against the door frame of the GCS. “The Activity does have some capabilities, ones you have drastically underestimated. Your millions are gone despite the offshore account shuffle you did. Your Hamas contact is already in Kidon custody, and we expect to have your moneyman soon.”
By Break of Day (The Night Stalkers) Page 27