Drop Zone

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Drop Zone Page 3

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  The rather large computer tech was still battling the small space beneath the desk when Vanessa entered the room at ten minutes to twelve. One elegant eyebrow lifted. “You already have IT here? How did you get them out so fast?”

  “I called first thing this morning.” Before Vanessa could comment, Paige motioned to a stack of manila envelopes on her desk. “I put together packets for your students for tomorrow. I included a map of the main compound, their room keys, and the first day’s itinerary. Is there anything else you’d like for me to include before I drop these off at the main gate?”

  “Where did you get the map and itinerary?”

  “Security gave me the map, and the itinerary was in one of the files you gave me.”

  “Resourceful. I like that.”

  Another curse sounded from beneath the desk.

  Vanessa smirked and appeared to be struggling not to laugh. She picked up the stack of envelopes. “Grab your coat. We’ll drop these off at security on our way out.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to grab some lunch, and I’m going to show you around the base. Then, if you’re up for it, we’ll spend some time this afternoon in town. I assume you don’t have an apartment lined up yet.”

  “No, I haven’t had time.”

  “It’s a bit of a commute, but if you like the water, you might want to consider Virginia Beach.”

  “Is that where you live?”

  Vanessa nodded.

  Paige shrugged into her coat, but before she moved toward the door, she said, “There is one thing I wanted to ask you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Any chance you can tell me ahead of time when you want me in the office for the next day? That way you don’t have to call me early in the morning.” Paige gave her a pointed look and added, “Or in the middle of the night.”

  “In the past, my assistants tended to call in sick when I gave them too much notice on our crazy hours.”

  “I’m a nurse. I’m used to shift work. You just tell me when you want me to be here, and I’ll be here.”

  Vanessa studied her for a moment. “I think we may get along okay after all.”

  * * *

  Amidst the encouraging shouts for Damian and Jay to hold on, Jay’s fingers flexed, and he slipped ever so slightly, his fingers clearly suffering from cramping as well.

  “Hang on,” Damian muttered, not sure if his words were intended for Jay or for himself.

  “We can’t hold on much longer,” Jay responded tensely. “I’m going to try to reach the rope and see if I can get my leg free.”

  Damian looked at the angle of his leg and the way the rope was looped around Jay’s leg. Now that he could see Jay’s leg more clearly, he realized that it wasn’t just his leg that was caught; Jay’s lines had tangled with his as they had fallen. Even if Jay wasn’t between him and the ground, Damian wouldn’t be able to rappel down safely. He would have to unclip his own harness and climb hand over hand.

  “Hold on a sec.” Damian tried unsuccessfully to think his way around the problem. Then he sensed someone behind him. He cocked his head around to see Seth free-climbing down the face of the tower, using the space between the wooden planks for hand- and footholds.

  “Damian, I want you to swing over here toward me,” Seth said, his voice surprisingly calm. “Jay, you’re going to grab on to the wall, and I’ll get you free. Then we’ll climb the rest of the way down.”

  Seth made the process sound so simple despite their being forty feet above the ground with failing equipment. Damian’s left shoulder was going numb from the strain of holding Jay, and he considered it a miracle that his cramped fingers were still functioning, but he knew he had to try.

  “On the count of three.” Seth’s voice now resonated with command. He counted down, and Damian tried to think of the action he needed to take instead of the possible results of an unsuccessful attempt. Jay’s hand slipped a little farther down his arm, but the look of determination and trust on his face gave Damian another dose of resolve.

  When Seth called out “three,” Damian piked his legs and swung them down hard to move himself toward the wall. The action put him in motion but not enough to put them within Seth’s reach. He repeated the action a couple more times until Seth finally let go of one of his handholds and reached out to grab Jay’s leg.

  The force of their swing pulled Seth off balance, and his left foot slid free. Damian was afraid Seth was going to lose his grip completely, but somehow, Jay must have anticipated the result of Seth’s actions. He reached out with one hand to grab the wall and help fight against the momentum, giving Seth the fraction of a second necessary to regain his balance.

  A few grunts and barely audible instructions followed until Jay’s leg was freed.

  “Jay, see if you can get a better handhold on the wall,” Seth said.

  Jay did as he was told, first finding a solid grip with his hand and then reaching his legs out to find purchase against the wall. As soon as Jay released his arm, Damian dug his own fingers into the crevice separating one board from another, keeping himself steady while he made sure Jay had a good grip.

  “Damian!” Tristan shouted from above. He didn’t have time to utter any further warning before another crack in the wood sounded and Damian felt his line go slack.

  In an instant, instead of Damian supporting Jay’s weight, the roles were reversed. Damian’s tentative hold on the wall gave Jay the split second he needed to see the equipment malfunction. He reached for Damian’s free arm, holding him in place for the few seconds Damian needed to pull his feet closer to the wall and find a grip.

  His breathing came in shallow gasps, but Seth was right there, calmly speaking to him, guiding him to find a second handhold. Damian clung to the wall, afraid to look down.

  “Damian, look at me,” Seth said.

  An errant thought cut through Damian’s fear as he wondered how Seth did it. How could he be so in control when they were forty feet above the ground with no safety gear, clinging to the side of a clearly faulty rappelling tower?

  Then Damian remembered. Seth was trained to remain calm in a crisis . . . and so was he. He sucked in a breath and focused on the task in front of them . . . or rather below them. It was time to climb to safety.

  The other two men seemed to sense that Damian’s panic had subsided, and Jay said, “I’ll lead the way.”

  “And I’ll take the rear,” Seth said. “Damian, work your way down. If you get stuck, holler, and one of us will walk you through it.”

  “Okay,” Damian managed to say, hoping his voice didn’t reveal his terror.

  Slowly and steadily, the three men worked their way down. Minutes ticked by, and Damian suspected the other two men could have made it to the ground in half the time had they not been pacing themselves with him.

  The wind picked up, the cold biting into the exposed skin on his face and through the gloves he wore. By the time Damian dared to look below him, he was only seven or eight feet above the ground.

  Tristan stepped nimbly down, and Damian scrambled down the last few feet. He was so eager to feel the earth beneath his feet again, he rushed when placing his boot on his last foothold and tumbled to the ground.

  Chapter 5

  Damian couldn’t say he’d ever considered what his first meeting with his new commanding officer would be like, but he was quite certain that if he had, it wouldn’t have included him being flat on his back.

  The lieutenant commander’s dark hair was cut short and mostly hidden beneath the hat that currently shaded his eyes. From Damian’s prone position, the man looked impossibly tall, but Damian guessed he might be an inch or so shorter than Seth. He wondered vaguely if there was some requirement in this unit about being tall. If so, he definitely didn’t qualify. Then again, neither did Quinn, who was only an inch or two taller than his own five foot ten.

  “You must be the new kid.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  L
ieutenant Commander Miller stretched out a hand. Damian accepted the offered help and let the other man pull him up to stand beside him.

  Seth finished his descent during the introductions and stepped beside Damian. “That’s it, Brent. You aren’t allowed to take leave anymore. Every time you’re gone, something happens.”

  “Not like this,” Brent countered. “Last time it was just a visit from some of our higher-ups.”

  “It was the president of the United States and the secretary of the navy!” Seth said.

  Brent dismissed Seth’s irritation with a wave of his hand and motioned toward the heap of rappelling lines on the ground. “What in the world happened?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never seen any of our anchors fail and certainly not two in one day.”

  “Did you check them before you started?” Brent asked skeptically.

  “Of course I checked.”

  “I did too,” Jay said.

  “Me too,” Tristan and Quinn chorused.

  Brent leaned down and picked up one of the fallen anchors and studied it for a moment. Then he bent over again, this time retrieving a piece of the wood that had splintered and fallen to the ground.

  His eyebrows drew together, and Damian could have sworn the color drained from Brent’s face. “Seth, were we on the training schedule today?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Is anyone else on for this afternoon?”

  Slowly, Seth seemed to catch up with whatever the commander was thinking. “Come to think of it, the schedule was wide open today. Tomorrow too.”

  “Quinn, call your buddy Larry Steinert. I think we’d better have him come over here and take a look.”

  “You really think we need to bother NCIS about this?” Tristan asked, stepping forward. “Seems to me we ought to be finding out who’s in charge of maintaining the equipment here.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Steinert will look into that, but I also want him to figure out who might have it in for one of us.”

  “What do you mean?” Damian asked. “I thought this was an accident.”

  Brent held up the piece of wood and flipped it over. A half circle was still evident where the anchor had once been secured through the thick beam, but the wood around it had been gouged out so the anchor would fail when enough pressure pulled against it.

  “Sabotage?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me,” Brent said.

  Behind them, Quinn was already talking on his cell phone, explaining the situation. As soon as he hung up, he said, “Larry said we need to keep the scene secure but not touch anything.”

  “Too late for that.” Brent held up the board.

  Quinn rolled his eyes. “I think he means don’t touch anything else.”

  “Right.” Brent looked around. “In that case, buddy up, spread out, and get comfortable until NCIS arrives.”

  Tristan and Quinn fell in step and headed for the north side of the tower. Jay and Seth moved to the southeast, effectively making a triangle from where Damian still stood.

  “Looks like we have some time to get to know each other,” Brent said casually. “So tell me, can you think of anyone who might want to kill you?”

  The words and the easygoing way in which they were spoken caught Damian off guard. “Kill me? No, sir!”

  “Just covering all our bases.” Brent scratched a finger along his jaw. “If it wasn’t you they were after, it must be one of them.”

  “What about you? Maybe someone didn’t know you wouldn’t be here.”

  “That’s a possibility too.”

  “Tell me, sir. Does this kind of thing happen often?”

  “Not usually. At least not without some kind of warning.” Brent shook his head. “And don’t call me sir. When we’re in the field, I’m Brent.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Paige stood in the town-house-style apartment and wavered. The location was great as far as what she wanted in a home. It was situated a short distance from the bay and within a few minutes’ drive of the beach. Unfortunately, the distance to work was about twice what she had planned for.

  The apartment itself wasn’t terribly large. The small galley kitchen wasn’t much wider than a standard hallway and was located off the main living area. The single bedroom occupied the area along the back wall of the unit. Of course, a smaller place also meant she would have less to clean. She also liked knowing there was a storage unit available where she could keep her kayak.

  “What do you think?” Vanessa asked.

  “It’s a great place. I just don’t know if I want to commute that far every day. It might be a lot easier to rent something closer to work.”

  “Hardly anything is close to work unless you want to live on base. And trust me, you need to have a life outside of work.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “The other advantage is that on the days I don’t have to teach class, we can work here in Virginia Beach.”

  “I didn’t think the CIA let people work from home.”

  “They don’t usually, but I do a lot of training for the military as well as the CIA. Whenever I can, I conduct the military classes on the naval base. I’ve also been known to work out of my husband’s office on base when he’s out in the field.”

  “Your husband’s navy?”

  “He is.” Vanessa took another look around. “You don’t have to decide right now. Isn’t the agency putting you up in a hotel for a couple weeks?”

  “Yeah, but it would be nice to settle in somewhere soon.”

  “It’s only four o’clock. There’s a place I know that isn’t far from here. Let’s go grab some appetizers or something, and we can chat a little more about your schedule. It will help you decide where you want to live if you know what work is going to be like for you.”

  “That sounds good,” Paige said, more than willing to delay going back to an empty hotel room. As they headed for Vanessa’s car, Paige wondered vaguely if the complex allowed pets.

  * * *

  Seth led the way into the sports bar he and his squad often frequented, whether it was to take in a game together or just unwind after a tough training mission. Today definitely fell into the latter category.

  NCIS had shown up thirty minutes after Quinn had called in the incident. Over the next hour, their stories were recorded and they were finally given permission to leave. Eager to put the events of the day behind them, as well as the idea that one of them might have been deliberately targeted, Jay had suggested that they all head out for a drink after work. Brent had seconded the idea.

  Seth still couldn’t quite believe they had all survived the encounter and considered it another in a long list of miracles his squad had been blessed with in their time together. He took a seat at a table with a view of several television screens and considered the changing dynamics of the squad now that Damian had joined them.

  Though he certainly hadn’t planned on indoctrinating their new teammate through a crisis, he couldn’t deny that Damian had stood up to the challenge. Damian’s quick reflexes had saved Jay today, and for that they were all grateful.

  Brent slid into the seat beside Seth. “You do realize that if your wife saw you pull that stunt today, she’d skin you alive.”

  Tristan nodded in agreement. “Brent’s right. You are seriously lucky Vanessa wasn’t there.”

  Seth considered his friends’ comments and recognized the truth to them. His wife might be a full foot shorter than he, but she was a force to be reckoned with, a force that, after two years of marriage, he knew better than to cross.

  “The real luck lies in knowing that she won’t have access to an after-action report.”

  “Those CIA types are tricky,” Tristan said. “You never know what they have their fingers into.”

  “Which is why I’m glad she’s out of active service and spends her time teaching now. I don’t ever want to see her involved in undercover work again.” Seth remembered too well how he had
helped Vanessa escape from a previous deep undercover assignment.

  “I have to admit, if we didn’t know for sure Akil Ramir was behind bars, he’d be the first name on our list of suspects.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Seth said.

  “Do you really think someone was targeting a member of the Saint Squad specifically?” Damian asked.

  “It’s possible,” Brent said. Someone near the entrance caught his eye. “Well, look who’s here.”

  Seth looked over his shoulder and saw his wife standing beside the hostess. Instantly, he turned back to the rest of the squad. He lowered his voice and said sternly, “Not a word about today.” Then his features completely transformed as he stood and shifted his attention to his wife.

  Vanessa crossed to him and reached out to put a hand on his arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just grabbing a drink with the guys.” Seth turned and motioned to Damian. “This is the new guy I was telling you about. Damian Schmitt, this is my wife, Vanessa.”

  All six men had stood at Vanessa’s approach, and Damian extended his hand to shake Vanessa’s. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too. I hope the guys are behaving themselves.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Afraid his wife might try to interrogate the new guy, Seth changed the subject and asked, “What are you doing here this time of day? I thought you would still be at work.”

  “I was showing my new assistant around town. She just started today and hasn’t found an apartment yet.”

  “Where is she now?” Seth asked.

  “She had to take a phone call. She’ll be here in a minute.”

  Seth saw a pretty blonde push her way through the main entrance. “That must be her now.”

  Chapter 6

  Damian turned to see the woman at the door, instantly intrigued. She was average height and wore a stylish shirt tucked into her gray dress pants. Her straight, honey-blonde hair was cut short, following her jawline, and Damian guessed her eyes were blue, although he couldn’t quite tell from this distance.

 

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