by Loye, Trish
“Relax, Cat.” He huffed a small laugh. “I’d never want that again. I want a favor. I want you to recommend me to your superiors.”
Insult upon insult. What the hell had she seen in this guy? Had she been that desperate for a relationship? Again, she couldn’t help comparing him to Rhys. She shoved those thoughts aside.
“You want to be in the regiment?” she asked, referring to CSOR. “You’ve already tried twice. They won’t ask you back again, no matter what I say.”
He scowled and crossed his arms. “No. I’m done with that. I want to work where you do. I don’t know what unit you’re in, but if you want help from my men then you’ll get me off this fucking base.”
What the hell was she going to do with this loser? “I can’t get you into my unit. It’s not my call, you know that.”
“Then get me off this nowhere airbase and doing something real.”
She ran a hand through her short hair. Sweat ran down her back from the heat. “Fine. I might be able to whisper into the right ears about getting you back to Canada.”
He shook his head. “Not good enough.”
“That is all that’s going to happen,” she snapped. “Why don’t you just do the best you can and then earn a better position? I can think of a lot worse ones than this.”
“You don’t get it, Cat. You never did. It’s easy for you—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Cat laughed. “It’s pricks like you that have made my life tougher than it should have been. I’m a damn good soldier—a better soldier than you. My team is going to rescue those girls with or without you. You want to do something real? Then help me.”
She could see him calculate her odds of success in his head, which weren’t good. So she sweetened the pot.
“If we’re successful, you can take the credit.”
His eyes lit with avarice. That was why he would never be in special ops-he wanted others to know what he did and how good he was. Being in spec ops meant never getting recognition, but that’s not why they did it. At least for her, she did it to help others and to help her country. She didn’t do it for praise.
Steve nodded. “I’m in. Tell me your plans and I’ll see what my men can do.”
She shook her head. “Not gonna happen. Like I said, lend me a squad of your best men. Your best. And I’ll see they get commendation for what they do.”
His eyes lit up when she said commendation. “Fine. I’ll lead them myself.”
That was going to be trouble. “You need to stay here and make sure no one asks questions about us.”
He drew himself up and put his hands on his hips. She almost snorted. Did he think she found him intimidating?
“I’m coming,” he said. “Or my men aren’t.”
She considered all the cons of taking him. She wanted his men as a distraction far away from the actual Boko Haram encampment—which would hopefully be far enough away that Steve wouldn’t be able to screw up her mission.
“Okay,” she said. “But I’m in charge. In fact, anyone on my team has the authority to tell you what to do.”
His jaw tightened. “Fine.”
“We’ll leave tonight,” she said. “Briefing at 1600 hours. Get some rest.”
She left him and strode back to her team. Her gut twisted with the thought of Steve on her mission. She prayed she’d made the right decision.
CHAPTER 19
Eight hardened men sat at the table in front of Cat alongside her team. She pointed at a position on the map. “This is where I want your men, Major.”
“Hold on,” Steve said. “That’s not what we signed up for.”
“You signed on to follow my orders. You and your men will take position to the east of the encampment. When I give the signal, you will begin a false attack just as morning prayers end. Lead them on a chase.”
She pointed to a bridge further down from the one she planned to use. “I’d advise you to withdraw here. Don’t let them cut you off. Head across this bridge. The Niger Army patrol here. They should be able to assist you if you get into trouble.”
“Do they know we’re coming, ma’am?” one of the sergeants asked.
“They will. The major and I will let them know to expect you.” She pointed to the bridge they’d used originally to get to the encampment, and then to the infiltration site. “This is where we’ll set the Black Hawk down.”
“Who’s flying?” Steve asked, staring at Dylan. There was no love lost there.
“The best pilot here,” Dylan answered. “Got a problem?”
“Enough, gentlemen,” Cat said. “Major, we’ll need your Chinook with your best pilot on standby to transport those girls when we get them out.” She went over details of call signs and timings next. “Any questions?” she asked.
“What about the rest of the plan?” Steve asked.
“Need-to-know only,” Cat said.
“That’s bullshit.”
To their credit, Steve’s men shifted uncomfortably in their seats to hear their CO address the mission leader in such a way.
“Be ready for 2200,” she said to his men. “Dismissed.”
She turned to Steve. “Major? We need to talk.” She left the briefing room and strode down the hall to another empty room. It held two desks and filing cabinets, the admin domain.
Steve stomped into the room after her. “Don’t think you can boss me around. I’m a higher rank than you.”
Cat let him ramble on while she shut the door carefully and then crossed her arms. She didn’t have time for this crap, and she let him see that on her face.
“Are you done?” she asked when he’d finally stopped ranting.
His eyes narrowed. “I won’t be sidelined.”
“And I won’t have you hampering my mission. You will do what I say, when I say it. Are we clear?”
“I’m not—”
“Are we clear?”
Steve looked like he’d just stepped in something nasty. “Yes,” he finally said.
“Be ready for 2200 hours or be left behind.” She went back to finalize the real mission with her team.
In the briefing room, Dylan stood waiting for her, his arms crossed. “I can’t believe you’re letting that asshole come on the mission. He’ll fuck everything up.”
“Without him, we don’t have air support or the extra men.”
“We can do this without him,” Dylan said.
Sarah stepped into their field of vision. “You’re called Cowboy, right?”
Dylan nodded.
“That tells me that you’re impulsive and probably a bit of a showoff.”
Cat bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t smile. Dylan scowled. “Or it could mean I’m from Calgary. Cowboy country.”
Sarah shrugged. “It could, but I don’t think so.”
“What’s the point of this?” Dylan turned back to Cat, but Sarah’s next words stopped him.
“The point is that you’re impulsive. You aren’t thinking this through. Of course we need air support. How did you plan to get twenty young girls back over fifty miles to this base?” Now Sarah crossed her arms and a coldness filled her voice, telling them that this woman, no matter how petite, had seen her share of dangerous situations. “That impulsiveness needs to be checked. Now. I won’t have you endangering me or the team.”
Cat stepped in. She couldn’t let Steve’s negativity influence any of them. They needed to trust each other. “Easy, Ghost. Dylan may be my brother, but he’s also one of the best damn helicopter pilots I’ve ever flown with. If you trust me, then trust him.”
After a moment of cold scrutiny, Sarah nodded. “I trust you.”
Cat had a feeling that Sarah didn’t speak those words often. It was time to get down to business.
Rhys liked being back with his old team again. He sat in the back of a C-130 heading to Niamey, the capital of Niger, for a fueling stop before heading to the remote base where Cat’s team would have already landed.
He’d had a
friend in Navy intelligence track their movements. It hadn’t been easy, since they’d gone undercover and stowed themselves on civilian and transport flights. According to his friend, they’d arrive approximately eighteen hours before Rhys’s team.
Rhys turned up the classic rock on his iPod, something he always listened to before a mission. He pulled out his deck of cards and began shuffling. He flicked card after card through his fingers. Ace of hearts, seven of spades, queen of diamonds. He wanted to throw the cards like knives, but didn’t think the air crew would appreciate that.
Shuffling the cards was repetitive and usually relaxed him. This time, the tension didn’t leave him. He hadn’t been able to relax since Dani had told him of Cat’s plans.
Why the hell didn’t she ask me to come?
He’d listened a dozen times to the voicemail she’d left him, but he’d gotten no answers there.
He thought he’d proven himself to her. Didn’t she trust his skills? Or was it him she didn’t trust? Either way, he was going to get to the bottom of this and figure out where they stood. No way was he going to let her play hot and cold with him.
He needed to make sure she was okay. He knew she had skills, but this was almost a suicide mission. There were two hundred men in that camp and she wanted to evac twenty hurt and frightened girls?
Why didn’t she ask me?
A hand gripped his shoulder. Jake stood in front of him. Rhys pulled his ear buds out.
“Your head on straight?” Jake asked.
Rhys let the cards play through his fingers. Two, jack, nine. “Five by five.”
Jake sat next to him. “We’re gonna catch up to her. She’s not stupid and won’t rush in without a plan.”
He nodded. Two, eight, king.
“We’ll find her, Lucky.”
He clenched his jaw and kept flipping over cards. Red four. Black nine. He paused. Queen of spades.
The Black Hawk touched down, the wind from its rotors flattening the tall grass. The half-moon gave off just enough light for Cat to see the empty clearing where they’d landed before. She grabbed her ruck before the blades had started to slow and jumped off. Her team followed. They had a lot of work to do before dawn.
She and the others kitted up while Dylan lifted his NVGs and spoke to his copilot and aircrew before jogging to catch up to them. They’d leave them behind to guard the bird. Cat took a quick GPS reading and did a final check of the mag on her rifle.
“Locked and loaded?” she said.
“Roger,” came the replies.
“Move out.”
The rotors hadn’t fully stopped before they left, jogging into the darkness. Their fifth-gen NVGs had been developed by Q and Gears, and were less cumbersome than most goggles. Cat could see everything clearly with a slight green cast, including the aardvark sitting under a leafy bush about ten meters away. Its pig-like snout sniffed the air as it watched them walk by.
They reached the bridge over the Yobe River within thirty minutes. Sweat ran down her back. The humidity of the air made it thick and almost tangible. The wet season meant days that started bright and sunny and ended in torrential downpours.
One guard sat on the other side of the bridge, leaning against a stunted palm tree, smoking. From the way he held his breath when inhaling, she suspected it was ganja, the local marijuana.
They hunkered down into the grass, easily hidden from the guard’s sight. He had no NVGs and looked like he was almost asleep.
Cat signaled to the others and they drew close. “I’m going under to set the charges. Zach, keep sights on the guard. Marc, you’re with me. Sarah, you’re overwatch.”
“Copy that,” they said.
She slithered through the grass to the edge of the bridge. The guard’s eyes closed and his hands lay slack on his rifle, his ganja cigarette forgotten beside him.
She nodded to Marc and then slid down the slope to the river below. The bank was muddy and slick from the rains. Its dark waters rushed and covered any noises they made. Cat took off her ruck and slid out the small pack of specially designed explosives that Q had given her. She tucked it into her webbing, slung her rifle over her back, and then gripped the beams underneath the bridge. She swung out and worked her way across the water. Near the far side she hooked her legs over a beam and used that to steady herself while she set her charges.
Q had taken typical C-4 and mixed it with an explosive accelerant to create a malleable agent, safe to transport, but ten times more combustible than normal C-4 once detonated—meaning Cat didn’t have to carry pounds of it to demolish a single bridge. She hung upside down under the bridge, hidden from the guard but also from her team, except for Marc. The river raged beneath her. She focused on her task, refusing to dwell on what waited below.
Damn, she hated dark water.
She peeled off the packaging from the explosive and then pulled bits apart and molded them into the shapes she needed. She used the adhesive to stick them to the joints and trusses of the bridge. Next she placed the radio-controlled detonators into the plastique. The controller was tucked safe into her webbing. She took a last survey and nodded.
This would go boom very nicely.
She made her way to the far side of the bridge and up to the sleeping guard. He snored and she ignored him, scanning the tall grasses and stubby trees beyond, her rifle up and ready.
She made a hand signal and her team came across the bridge. Marc handed Cat her rucksack. They made their way silently past the sleeping guard and toward the Boko Haram encampment.
At their running pace, it only took them about an hour to reach it.
It was about three-thirty in the morning local time. Dawn was just over an hour away. They needed to work quickly.
Thankfully, the encampment was quiet. Some men slept sprawled in the dirt by a dying fire. Three men stood at different points on the perimeter, but their rifles were slung, not at the ready. One smoked, and Cat knew the flaring of the cigarette would wreck his night vision. The other swayed where he stood, either close to sleep or under the influence of drugs.
She signaled Sarah to move to the high ground on the north side to be their overwatch. Sarah would be their spotter with binoculars and let them know via their secure comms the movements of the enemy.
Even though she only had one more team member than before, their mission directive was different. Now it was the girls they had to rescue. They no longer had an American civilian as the highest priority, and Cat had come prepared to blow the shit out of everything.
With that thought in mind, she and Zach snuck into the encampment, easily avoiding the guards. Marc and Dylan covered them from the stubby trees just outside the perimeter. Zach had become a demolitions expert from his time in JTF2, making him her perfect partner. They separated once inside the perimeter and slunk through the shadows of snoring men and cement buildings.
From their previous mission, they knew the layout of the buildings. She crept to the armory she’d found with Rhys previously. She set her explosives so the building would implode. Zach did the same with the barracks. Next, she crept to the building where the girls slept. The main room had its window open but lay dark. She moved quietly along the outside to the next room. The window to the girls’ sleeping room had another lock on it. She placed a tiny bit of plastique on the back of the lock and a small detonator that Q had given her for this situation. She hoped to be able to get the girls out the door, but it was always best to be prepared.
Once they had the explosives in place, she and Zach made their way back to Marc and Dylan. They all had their game faces on, their eyes serious and focused. This was a Hail Mary plan with the ability to SNAFU at any moment. Had she been right to drag them into this, because of her need to do the right thing? What if her brother was killed because of this mission?
She breathed deep to calm her nerves, so her team wouldn’t see her worry.
“Dawn in thirty minutes. Take cover. Minimal radio contact.”
“Copy that.
” Marc and Zach moved off, but Dylan gripped her arm and squeezed. “Don’t worry, sis. We’ll do this.”
She squeezed his arm back. Her brother could always tell when something was up with her. She didn’t bother denying her anxiousness. “Stay safe.”
She crept to her position at the northern compass point. The rest of them took up observation posts at the other compass points around the encampment. They settled in for the rest of the night and the long hours ahead. She wanted as much intel as possible before they went ahead with their plan.
She knelt in a good position, on a slight hill where she could see most of the encampment, and took precious minutes to dig a narrow trench about six inches deep. The ground was soft because of the rains. She burrowed in and pulled her ghillie suit over her, the suit more of a net with a hood made of a burlap-like material. Before they’d headed out, she’d covered it in some of the native grasses so she could blend in better. Last, she set her rifle sights for the targets below.
Sarah was somewhere to her left. The woman had had more time to dig in and Cat couldn’t see her position. With her NVGs she could see Marc farting around near a small bush, spreading the dirt he’d dug. Zach had taken position far from the road and trucks, so no one would run over him, but close enough that he could see that side of the camp. She couldn’t see Dylan at all, but trusted him to be in position.
“Spooky,” she said in a low voice. “Get in position. The sun is coming up.”
“Trying. Damn aardvarks,” he said. “My first position was compromised by one.”
A snort came over the line. “Did the little animal scare you?” Zach said.
“Fuck off.” Marc finally lay down in his position. Within a minute, he disappeared to the naked eye under his camouflage.
“Everyone settle. Stay alert. Eyes on. Ghost is overwatch,” she said.
And now they waited.
CHAPTER 20
Cat lay still in the dirt as the two men approached her position. The sun was hidden by thick clouds, but she knew it was past the zenith. Sweat dripped down her face, but she didn’t move to swipe it. They were fifteen feet away.