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Drop Zone

Page 11

by Traci Hunter Abramson


  “I’m afraid she’s going to be out of touch for a few days.”

  “I see.” Amy understood the unspoken message. “Thank you for all of the information. Please let me know if you locate Terrance Gunning.”

  “I will. Same goes for you.”

  Amy took down his number, hung up the phone, and did the only thing she could think of. She prayed for everyone she cared about to return safely home.

  * * *

  “Do you think they’re all right?” Paige asked after an hour of silently reviewing files.

  “I think so.” Damian hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He thought back to Kel’s explanation of why he had been left behind and the way the commander had said he had been worried about the mission. He was now starting to believe that maybe it wasn’t his skills that had been called into question. Maybe it really was the risk level of the assignment. At the moment, that idea was more unsettling than his original impression that he’d been found wanting.

  Damian looked up at the clock on the wall. “We should probably call it a night. Did you want to go out and grab something to eat?”

  “I think I’m too nervous to sit in a restaurant right now,” Paige said. “I was thinking about ordering in. Do you want to come over, and we can call in some Chinese food?”

  Damian thought about it for a minute, a little surprised at how quickly he had come to expect he would spend his free time with Paige. “That sounds good. I could use something to keep my mind off all of this.”

  “I know what you mean.” Paige gathered the papers she had been working with and put them into file folders. “Do you have a vault in here where we can secure the classified documents?”

  “Yeah, over here.” Damian opened the second drawer of the vaulted safe beside his desk and secured his documents as well as hers. “It will take me a few minutes to lock up. If you tell me what you want, I can call in our order and pick it up on my way over.”

  “I like anything that doesn’t have bell peppers in it.”

  “Why would anyone put bell peppers in Chinese food?”

  “I have no idea, but some people do.” Paige slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Just order a couple of things you like, and we can share.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you at your place in about a half hour.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks.” Paige left the office, and Damian finished securing everything in the room. He looked at his teammates’ desks. Though they had only been together for a short time, he could almost hear Tristan telling him with that Texan drawl not to worry or Quinn teasing him about how he shouldn’t be standing around thinking about them when he had a chance to go out with a beautiful woman.

  Damian tried to take the imagined advice, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a whisper of one more thing they would expect him to do. He crossed the room to close the door Paige had left open, folded his arms, and offered a heartfelt prayer.

  * * *

  Paige waited for Damian. There were still boxes to unpack and clothes to put away, but she couldn’t seem to focus long enough to do anything beyond setting the table.

  The images of what Damian’s squad could be going through right now kept running through her head, frightening images of torture and even death. She didn’t know these men well, but she didn’t have to for those possibilities to leave her uneasy. She also couldn’t shake the guilty feeling of relief in knowing Damian was still here safe and sound. Although sound was a relative term. Clearly, the uncertainty of his friends’ fate was wearing on him.

  She looked over at the clock on the stove to see he was already fifteen minutes late. Now a new set of emotions crept through her. Had he decided he didn’t want to be around her tonight?

  Three more minutes passed as she paced back and forth across her apartment. Her stomach growled, reminding her that in the confusion of getting Vanessa ready to leave, she had missed lunch.

  She was debating eating a snack when she finally heard Damian’s truck pull up outside. Even though she knew it made her seem anxious, she met him at the door, pulling it open as he came up the walk. “I was starting to get worried about you.”

  “I’m not the one you need to be worried about.”

  She heard the remorse in his voice and found she couldn’t begin to imagine the anguish he must be feeling right now. She stepped aside to let him in and followed him to the table, where he set the paper bag of Chinese food.

  Determined to be positive for Damian’s sake, Paige waited for him to set the food out. When he turned, a troubled expression on his face, she followed instinct and stepped forward, slipping her arms around his waist.

  She saw the surprise on his face but noticed he didn’t hesitate to encircle her with his arms and return the hug. He pulled her tightly against him as though the gesture of comfort was a lifeline he had been grasping for without knowing it.

  A combination of emotions took her breath away. She caught the lingering scent of Chinese food on his clothes, felt the stubble on his chin rub against her hair, and couldn’t stop the unexpected ripple of pleasure at finding she fit so well in his arms. Contrasting those sensations was the tangible worry in the air.

  “I’m sorry everything is so unsettled right now. You have every right to be worried,” Paige said softly.

  “I thought you were going to tell me not to worry and that everything will be okay.”

  “I hope everything will be okay. I pray it will, but worrying is normal, and I doubt you’ll be able to stop no matter what I say.”

  Damian shifted back slightly so he could see her face. “I’m sorry I was late.”

  “It’s okay.” Her lips curved slightly. “I was just worried about you.”

  His own lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile. “Come on. Let’s eat while it’s still hot. I’m sure you’re going to tell me I have to keep up my strength.”

  “That sounds like something I would say.” She took a step back and let her arms drop back to her side.

  Damian pulled a chair out for her and waited for her to sit before taking the chair across from her. “You know, I’m never quite sure what to expect when I’m around you.”

  “You don’t know me very well yet.”

  “That’s true, but I’m starting to realize that I want to.”

  “I’d like that.” Paige watched Damian open the cartons of Chinese food and dish some out for both of them. When their eyes met again, she gave him the words she felt he needed to hear. “We are going to find them.”

  “You’re right. We are.” Damian gave her a determined look. “Whatever it takes.”

  * * *

  A light rain drizzled down on the five figures perched on the edge of the landing zone. The cloud cover hid any moonlight that might have otherwise illuminated the wide clearing.

  “Do you think anyone will show up?” Quinn asked from his position beside Seth.

  “Only one way to find out.” Seth glanced at his watch. “Five more minutes. Even you can wait that long, Quinn.”

  “We’ve already waited twenty-four hours.”

  Seth heard the rumble of an engine and lifted his binoculars. “I hear an aircraft.”

  “Commercial flights don’t come into Canaima at night,” Quinn said optimistically.

  “Our guys would come in dark. I see lights.”

  “I agree,” Brent said, shifting to stand beside them.

  “It’s your call, Brent. What are your orders?”

  “Stand fast. Let’s see what happens.”

  The helicopter closed the distance, slowing a half mile before reaching the clearing. A beam of light swept out over the landing zone.

  “Something is not right,” Seth said.

  The words were barely out of his mouth when gunfire burst through the air, strafing the five forms in the clearing, punishing them until there weren’t any left standing. Bullets continued flying through the air for several more seconds, an exclamation point on the pilot’s determi
nation to make sure the men were dead. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the helicopter circled and headed back the way it had come.

  “Well, that was overkill,” Brent said, stepping out from behind the boulders where his squad had taken cover.

  Strewn across the clearing were the shredded clothing and palm leaves that had been stuffed into them to make it appear as though the squad was standing by the landing zone.

  “I guess it’s safe to say they weren’t here to pick us up,” Tristan said.

  “Good thing they didn’t get close enough to notice it wasn’t us standing out there,” Seth added.

  “Salvage whatever you can of your spare clothes,” Brent said.

  “Not much chance of that.” Jay lifted a shirt that had been shredded by the bullets.

  “Better your shirt than you,” Seth reminded him. “The good news is that whoever was after us thinks we’re dead.”

  Tristan kicked a coconut on the ground. “Yeah, but we’re still trapped out here in the middle of the jungle.”

  “Not for long,” Brent said firmly. “Come on. Let’s head back to camp and get some sleep. We’ll set out at first light.”

  Chapter 18

  Vanessa read the encrypted message on her cell phone, the message confirming her fears. Her husband was missing.

  She refused to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t see him again but rather relied on a combination of hope, prayer, and uncertainty to push her forward to prepare for her flight.

  She had to leave Vanessa Johnson behind when she walked out of this room. She would be Lina Ramir, as she had been when she had first seen Morenta.

  Her hands trembled slightly as she looped a scarf around her neck. She took a moment to harness her emotions, reminding herself to have faith that Seth would be okay when she found him. Not finding him wasn’t an option. She knew it, and so did Warren. She would either come back with Seth, or she wouldn’t come back at all.

  With one last check in the mirror to make sure her transformation was complete, she picked up her purse and rolled her suitcase to the door of her hotel room.

  A car was waiting for her when she exited the building, and Vanessa let the driver see to her bag. Then, with an air of arrogance and wealth, she slid into the backseat and tried to pretend she didn’t have a care in the world.

  * * *

  “I don’t care what you think I need to know. I want it all,” Kel said into the phone. “And I want it now.”

  Damian and Paige stood just outside his office, both torn over whether to enter.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Kel said, slamming his desk phone back onto the receiver. “Come in.”

  Damian led the way but waited for Paige to claim a seat before sitting beside her. “I gather things didn’t go as planned last night.”

  “You’re right. There wasn’t any sign of them at their designated rendezvous point. When he didn’t see them, the pilot who tried to pick them up broke radio silence but didn’t receive a response.”

  “What about their emergency signals? Were any activated?”

  “Not one.”

  “This really doesn’t make any sense.” Damian shifted forward in his seat and rested his arms on his knees.

  Kel studied Damian and Paige, then said, “I’ve been working on a theory I want the two of you to help me explore.”

  “What’s that?” Damian asked.

  “I think I already mentioned that the ship wasn’t able to track the helicopter that dropped them off because the transponder wasn’t working properly.”

  “What about it?”

  “Let’s assume it was switched off deliberately and that the pilot was murdered to keep him from talking.”

  “You think the pilot took them somewhere else,” Damian said, following Kel’s logic.

  “I had Amy work with the flight crew of the helicopter. They verified that there weren’t any bullet holes or any evidence of a firefight.”

  “So you think the Saint Squad made the drop thinking they were at the right location and then were captured?”

  “I’m still not convinced on the captured part. I think if Morenta really had them, we’d be hearing demands by now. Besides, I’m sure they prayed before they left on this mission. I’d like to believe the Lord is looking out for them.”

  At Paige’s confused expression, Damian explained, “They’re all Mormon. They have this thing about praying every morning before they do anything else.”

  “All of them?” Paige asked, clearly surprised.

  “Actually, I am too,” Kel said. “That’s how the squad got its name. Saint comes from ‘Latter-day Saint.’”

  “I never realized that,” Paige said.

  Kel changed the subject and handed Damian a rolled-up map and a handful of notes. “I want you to look over this map and project a range of where the helicopter could have dropped them in the time he was off our radar. Remember, we can’t be certain he even dropped them in Venezuela. It could have been at one of the nearby islands or even a neighboring country.”

  “Do you have the specs on the helicopter, positions, and time it was off grid?”

  “It’s all in there. I know you haven’t lived in Venezuela for a long time, but I also want you to see if you can narrow down other locations within range that could have been mistaken for their drop site.”

  “Actually, I traveled there a lot the year before I joined the navy.”

  “Even better. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe if we can find out how Morenta is tied to Venezuela, we can pinpoint where they might have been dropped off.”

  “I’ll do what I can.” Damian stood.

  “Is there anything in particular you want me to work on?” Paige asked, also standing.

  “I guess just keep reviewing the intel reports we already have. What we really need is an updated psychological profile on Morenta to see how likely it is that he’s the one behind all of this. Unfortunately, that will take time, and that’s one thing we don’t have a lot of.”

  “I can do it,” Paige said, although she didn’t sound too confident in the assertion.

  “A psych profile?” Kel asked. “Do you have any experience with that kind of thing? I thought you were a nurse.”

  “I’m a psychiatric nurse, but I also interned with the FBI during college. Two of those summers, I worked in profiling.”

  Apparently pleased with her answer, Kel said, “In that case, that’s where you can start. Both of you get to work.”

  Damian led Paige down the hall to his office. As soon as they were inside, he said, “I didn’t know you were a psych nurse before you came here. Why the change of careers?”

  “After four years of trying to help people work through their problems, I realized it was starting to wear on me. Dealing with mental illness and trauma is emotionally exhausting.”

  “You don’t look old enough to have worked as a nurse for that long.”

  “I started when I was nineteen. My high school had a nursing program, and I took summer classes at the community college starting when I was sixteen. With all of that, it didn’t take me long to finish my credentials.”

  “I didn’t realize you were one of those overachiever types.”

  “I’m not really. I just like understanding what’s going on around me.” Damian heard the undertones of some hidden meaning in her words, but she shut the door on the conversation when she said, “We’d better get to work.”

  Damian unrolled the map and pasted it on the huge whiteboard on the wall near the door. He stared at the country of his birth and considered Kel’s theory and the possible reasons behind why someone would want to capture or strand the Saint Squad. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “First someone tries to kill one of us, and now my teammates are either lost or captured? I think I’m a curse for this squad.”

  “You aren’t a curse,” Paige began, but then her mind must have cau
ght up with the rest of his comment. “What do you mean someone tried to kill you?”

  Damian hesitated, realizing he had said too much.

  “Don’t start holding things back now.” She put her hands on her hips and took a firm tone Damian wasn’t used to hearing from her. “We need all of the pieces on the table, and you know it.”

  Damian dropped into his seat. “There was a training accident a couple weeks ago. In fact, it was the day I met you.”

  “That’s what you were all hiding from Vanessa.” Her eyes flashed with the connection, but Damian was pleased that condemnation didn’t accompany it.

  “Yeah. Seth didn’t want her to know about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess he didn’t want to worry her.” Damian lifted both hands helplessly. “I’m the only guy on the squad who isn’t married, so I’m afraid the whole husband-wife thing is pretty foreign to me.”

  “I know what you mean,” Paige said. “What exactly happened that day we met? I gather if you think someone tried to kill one of you that it wasn’t really an accident.”

  “No, it wasn’t an accident. NCIS agrees that it was sabotage, but they don’t have any idea who was behind it.” Damian proceeded to tell her about the events of that day, leaving out his complete terror when he thought he and Jay were going to plunge forty feet to their deaths.

  Paige listened intently. When Damian finished his account, Paige asked, “If someone wanted to target one of you, why use sabotage when there would be no way to be sure who the victim would be?”

  “Maybe they just wanted someone to die, and they didn’t care who. It could have been some sort of revenge.”

  “Maybe,” Paige conceded, looking like she was trying to wrap her mind around a motive. She set her oversized purse down on her desk. “I think you’re right on one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “None of this makes any sense.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Seth asked as he followed Quinn through a particularly dense section of jungle.

  “Well, no, Seth. I don’t,” Quinn retorted. “In case you’ve forgotten, we don’t have a map, and we’re in the middle of a jungle.”

 

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