by Gennita Low
Jazz heaved the case with the squad communication gear onto a small portable table. “I’d say every man in our team has been thinking about it. It’s not everyday we’re told to shoot around a big target like Dilaver. They’ll obey orders, no questions asked, but they aren’t robots. They want to know, believe me.”
He handed Hawk the squad radio for testing. Then he pulled out the compact SATCOM radio. They would be communicating until the final moments in case of any changes before the strike time and then everything was to follow as planned. Hopefully.
“Yeah,” Hawk said. “The good thing is, they know Mad Dog will tell them sooner or later.” Unlike other top brass, Admiral Jack Madison had always been straightforward with his special-designed teams. He had never been one to play fast and loose with the men.
Jazz glanced at his friend briefly. “Are you going to tell me before he does? Is it that big?”
“It’s…big.”
“It’s got to be, to involve another group we haven’t heard of before. That envelope Vivi gave you, with the instructions. That’s a first I’ve seen a courier between the general and us. What does GEM actually provide, Hawk? They gave us the Intel, I know that, but surely there’s more to that.”
Hawk smiled. “Maybe if you stop sucking Vivi’s lips with your eyes closed, you’ll see a lot more.”
“Maybe you don’t know yourself,” Jazz countered.
Hawk chuckled. “She’s running a side show,” he said quietly.
Jazz went still. “Are you saying she’s going to be in the theater out there?” He shook his head. “Not a good idea, Hawk. We don’t have any experience with her or her people, and with their penchant for secrecy, things are bound to go awry.”
That was something he wasn’t going to allow. No one was jumping into the fray without his permission. Not even Vivi.
Hawk’s voice lowered, keeping the information for his ears only. “The only thing the admiral would allow me to say is that GEM is going to start a mini-war between the different big dealers and he’s all for it. You know we lost four men to Dilaver last year because of the leaks from D.C. Mad Dog isn’t forgetting that too soon. With Steve working as liaison between our side and the other agencies, I guess the admiral is comfortable with this joint mission. He knows what’s going down and he approves. If the men press for more information, tell them about our fallen comrades. They’ll understand then.”
Jazz nodded. Leaks had been the killer in their covert operations the last few years. There were too many coincidental ambushes from behind, too many disappearances of targets before their arrival, and with the loss of a whole STAR Force fire squad in a particularly bloody mission that should have been an easy search and destroy, Admiral Madison had vowed to get to the bottom of the leaks. Four dead SEAL brothers. That had pissed off many frogs all over the world, especially when they had heard about the way it had happened. SEALs had long memories and Dilaver’s name was etched in their brains.
The admiral had inserted Hawk’s cousin, Steve, into the Intel section in D.C. It took a while but he had been successful in finding out one of the big rats in the system. In the course of things, Steve had left STAR Force to be liaison between the admiral and the different agencies. They had learned that many sources were better than just one. GEM must have proven to be very reliable or Mad Dog wouldn’t allow a joint mission.
“You still haven’t told me much about GEM.” He needed to know what Vivi was up to, although he wouldn’t bring it up specifically.
“Just think of them like we are—except we’re a brotherhood and they are women.” Hawk laughed. “And they use gems as their insignia. I’ve seen Steve’s pin. He claimed he got it from one of them.”
“Gems?”
“We have mean looking frogs on our patches, man,” Hawk pointed out.
“So they have snarling gems on theirs?”
Hawk shook his head. “This is from Steve, so I’d take it with a grain of salt, okay? Marlena’s thing is pearls and I think they send it out as gifts, like a call of distress or some kind of code. There’s a huge secrecy about what GEM really is. I suspect they are part government, part civilian.”
“Interesting.” So Vivi had some kind of jewelry symbol of her own? He had to find out whether that was true when he saw her next.
“Think of it as a very expensive group of Charlie’s Angels,” Hawk said, his voice rich with amusement. “And I ain’t kidding. When I was in D.C., Steve’s chick bought the whole squad expensive suits and took us to the opera. We had the best seats. She wore this thing that stuck to her like second skin. The hotel suite they lived in was makeout palace, with butlers and maids. High maintenance.”
“No wonder your cousin opted for another job.”
“It has its perks.”
“So are you telling me all this just to satisfy my curiosity about Vivi or to hint there’s something about her I ought to know?” They’d been friends long enough for him to realize that Hawk never parted with information unless he had something up his sleeve. It was the nature of McMillans to compete. “Are you saying Vivi might expect to be maintained like Steve’s Marlena?”
“I’m saying there are many sides to these women. I’ve seen Marlena in that opera fluttering her eyelashes at my poor cousin and he was putty in her hands. And I’ve seen the same woman take my weapons and calmly mow down enemies with her back to mine while coolly telling me I didn’t taste as sweet as her lover and that she was going to kill me for pretending to be Steve.” Hawk paused as he adjusted his nylon belt, making sure everything was in place. He looked up at Jazz and added quietly, “You haven’t seen the real Vivienne Verreau till you see her in action. Then you make up your mind whether that’s the woman you want, buddy. What you see the rest of the time is merely some outer layer. Marlena is reputed to be an assassin. Who knows what Vivi is?”
An assassin. He couldn’t picture Vivi as a cold-blooded killer. He was a soldier and understood the essentials of killing as part of his resume, but the mental picture he had built of Vivi didn’t include that. But Hawk was right, of course. She was an operative.
“Can you handle it?” Jazz asked as he tucked in his weapon. “Knowing and loving a woman like that?”
Hawk smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. “Well, it all depends on whether she likes my kiss.”
Jazz thumped the radio against Hawk’s chest. “As long as you don’t pretend to be me this time, son.” He knew he couldn’t sound too challenging or Hawk would be even more competitive. He really didn’t want Hawk’s lips anywhere near Vivi’s.
“I can’t possibly look as ugly.”
Jazz grinned. “Your loss.” He checked the watch. “Two hours, forty-five minutes.”
Hawk double-checked his watch and nodded. “Here’s your earpiece. Don’t lose it while trying to beat back the ’squitoes.” They were to communicate via the tiny mikes as each team went their separate ways, so it was important to check with everyone so they could hear their channel. It would be pitch black while they worked, and any lost communication pieces might cause a problem.
At exactly midnight, Jazz watched as the men gathered around to listen to Hawk’s quiet instructions. Faces smeared with war paint. Backs straight. Toys all ready for play.
“You know what your job is. Keep your eyes alert for women. Those of you who have seen Marlena Maxwell in action will bear in mind that Vivi Verreau is GEM, too. That means you report back anything that catches your attention, do you hear?”
The men rumbled their obedience in one voice. They didn’t need to ask any questions. Each of them knew exactly what they had to do and the rest would be training taking over.
Jazz gave his instructions. “Make sure channel four is open for all-way communication. If there is any change of plans while we wait, Hawk and I will use that channel. If you are unable to communicate for whatever reason during the operation, you signal your partner for confirmation. Get the bridge. Get the fuckers. Then get the women. In that order.”
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br /> “Hooyah!”
They slapped each other quietly on the back before dividing into their separate fire squads. Jazz nodded at Hawk before he and his team merged silently into the darkness. They would be separated from now on, doing what was needed to set up the operation. After that came the tough part—waiting.
Vivi didn’t like being manipulated. By T., yeah, she counted on that. T. was always pushing and testing. But this masked stranger was playing with her, and it was pissing her off. Insinuating that he knew all about her background during their first meeting had already made her edgy. Now he had snuck into her apartment and…
She swung around, hands on hips. “I’m going to kick his ass,” she announced.
T. looked up from the file propped against her thighs. She was seated on the sofa playing with her newly colored hair, twirling a strand around her finger as she took in Vivi’s indignation. “If you could find his ass,” she said coolly. “He seems to be able to come and go as he pleases. That’s pretty good for a nobody masked man, hmm?”
“Well, if he’s trying to piss me off, he’s succeeded. How’s that going to help his cause, whatever the hell it is?”
“You still want to know about your friend’s whereabouts, don’t you? I’d think he’s got the upper hand, darling. I think he’s just showing off.”
T. was right, of course. The stranger knew that Vivi wouldn’t be able to do anything as long as she wanted the information he had. Claimed he had.
“Is that why he’s dangling the carrot?” she asked, folding her arms. “Maybe he’s setting a trap. I don’t like this.”
T. closed the file and picked up the other thing that was in the small wooden box left on Vivi’s bed the night before. It was a small piece of jewelry, a little anklet local children wore.
“Are you sure this is the real thing?” she asked as she fingered the stones.
Vivi nodded grimly as she approached the desk. “Yes. I have a similar one. Sia-Sia gave me one made of carnelian and I gave her one made of white jade. It’s the same make, down to the small cinnabar beads between the stones. One of the beads is different because I repaired it when it broke. I know it’s the same one, T. The question is, how did this end up in his hands? Who the hell is he? I’d love to find a way to stop him from shooting two stories into the air.”
T. chuckled. “He’s just trying to make a point, Viv. A man who can get around like that is an asset.” Her now amethyst-colored eyes grew thoughtful. “And he did say he wanted his freedom. I wonder whether we can set up a meeting between Mr. Masked Man and me.”
“Oh no, this is my baby. Besides, you have enough on your plate with Maximillian Shoggi. I’m just frustrated. All he has to do is come right out and tell me what he wants and then we start dealing. Why are men so difficult?”
This time T. laughed out loud. “Is that a general question? And did you mean this visitor or another male in your life?”
Vivi chose to ignore the jibe. She had been thinking too much about Jazz the last day and maybe that was why she had been so careless. A man was following her around, breaking into and entering her apartment at will. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with a certain Cajun, she might have noticed something.
“If he knew me at all, he’d know that I won’t appreciate his little visit.”
“I’m sure he knows that. He wants to demonstrate what he can do, that’s all.”
“He hasn’t done it before. So why now?” Vivi sat down on the love seat across from T.
T. arched an eyebrow. “Exactly.”
Vivi’s eyes widened with realization. “You mean, he was doing it for you?” At T.’s smile, she sank back against the soft cushion. “Why?”
“He told you he’s been watching you. It’s fairly obvious that he knows you’ve been looking for Sia-Sia and also about your role with Interpol. All along, he hasn’t lifted a finger to help you when he could have shown you these items—”
“Until you showed up at my apartment,” Vivi interrupted. “And then he gave me the first package and told me—”
“—that he wanted his freedom,” T. finished. She lifted her arms and stretched lazily. “I’m sorry, darling. This man is interested in me, not you. You’re just a means.”
“Well, now I’m doubly pissed. He’s known all this time about Sia-Sia and didn’t think it important until it suited him. Why should I help him? Bastard.” She could have had this information earlier. She could have found out about her friend by now. “He can just stick his mask up his rear end. I can find Sia-Sia on my own and he can just find another way to get what he wants.”
“Ah, it’s too late. He’s gotten my interest to help him.”
Vivi frowned. “Why? You’re supposed to be on my side. Let him rot.”
T. stood up, tying the silk sash of her thin wrap. “He knows too much, and it’s my job to probe him. A man who wants his freedom. How intriguing, hmm?” She walked toward the bedroom. “You only have time to initiate the meeting, so get going. After that you have to take care of the SEALs.” She swung around at the bedroom door and eyed her mischievously. “Unless you want to take care of the masked man and let me take care of those sexy men up by the river? I must say that would be more fun, especially when Jazz sees me—”
“Not a chance. You’re staying here with your glorious red tresses all clean and shiny and in your best bikini by the poolside so you catch the eye of a certain arms dealer, so don’t even play your mind games with me.” Vivi sighed. “Why do I feel as if time is pressing down on me?”
“Things are moving fast, darling. So far, everything seems to be running on time. The admiral’s boys are ready. Our boys are ready. My concern is—are you?”
Vivi frowned. “What do you mean? Of course I’m ready. We’re heading out first thing in the morning.”
“Why not now?” T. cocked her head. “Why are you still in town, Viv? You did take a few days off your volunteer work, didn’t you?”
Vivi sighed again. Nothing escaped T.’s eagle eye. “They need my help.”
“That isn’t your job,” T. said softly.
“I…know that.” She was reluctant to tell T. the real reason.
“Tell me what Juliana Kohl wanted you to do.”
Vivi explained briefly as T. walked into her bedroom suite. She knew her chief would be able to deduce from the information why she had been so busy.
“So you have spent the whole day looking for spaces for these girls that Julie K. wants you to cross off that list,” T. said, her voice muffled. “While this is happening, you’re staying in touch with Satellite so you can update the SEALs. Not to mention the fact that your mind is on the masked intruder and his little game. What else?”
Vivi bit her lip. She certainly wasn’t going to mention that she couldn’t get hold of Rose and that she was getting concerned, that she planned to go down to see why she hadn’t been answering the phone or returning her calls. A part of her was getting that sickening worried feeling that Rose’s father had sent her out to the local bar again. Each time Rose had managed to contact Vivi soon enough that she could set up a raid, but each incident reinforced the fact that Rose’s situation was getting more and more precarious.
“Your silence is very telling.” T. emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a black cat suit. She carried a light raincoat over one arm. “Tell me the rest of it.”
There was really nothing to tell. Vivi knew she was Rose’s only hope. End of story. She had to make one quick visit, just to make sure the girl was okay. Then she would go off and—The cell phone’s ring interrupted her thoughts. T. picked it. It was the usual time for satellite to call in for the latest update, but her chief’s serious expression didn’t bode well. Her questions were also out of the ordinary.
“What is it?” Vivi asked when the caller rang off.
“Slight adjustment in plans, darling,” T. said. “You need to go to the boys up there ASAP. Call for a satellite meeting.”
Jazz peeled off his mudd
y wet suit. He could see the shadowy outlines of his men as they changed from the protective gear into something dry. The wet suit was a great insulator against hypothermia and mosquitoes but they still had a long wait ahead of them, and a dry wet suit wasn’t the most comfortable thing to have on in this heat.
They had spent the last hour doing what they did best, being frogs. In the dark water, they had pulled a haversack loaded with water-resistant explosives to be installed at the target points of the old bridge. They had used a dual-priming technique to ensure that all charges would detonate at the same time.
In the humid gloom of the night, Jazz signaled for his men to take up their positions. One was to keep watch while the others rested. They wanted to be at optimum alert when the time drew closer for the target’s arrival. They had done this together dozens of times before; each of them knew how much energy to conserve and how to be alert and relaxed at the same time.
Jazz listened to the night insects chirping loudly around them. They had just applied a thick layer of insect repellent, but even so, now and then some bug would crawl across his face. He was used to it—the waiting, the smells, the soaking wet clothes if it rained.
Once everything was secure for the night, they signaled each other with a small pin light. Nothing to do but wait for morning.
Jazz looked up at the sky. There were a million stars blinking back, like fireflies in a dark bayou. When he was a kid out on a night hunting trip with Grandpa Gator, he would lie in exactly this position, listening to the bullfrogs and the splish-splash of the river current hitting the side of the boat. If he leaned over and looked into the water, now and then he would be able to see the red eyes belonging to the gators staring back at him. During mating season, he would shine a flashlight and he would see some wild stuff out in the deep bayou.
Who knew then that he would be lying in the same position twenty years later, looking into dark waters for wild things? It was strange how life repeated itself in different rhythms. In twenty years, he would probably be an old bayou grandpa looking out into the river and telling stories about wrestling gators. Just like his grandpa did.