Drop Zone

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “I’m sorry to hear we will be losing your business.” He pulled up her account on his screen, and his eyebrows drew together. He typed the string of numbers in a second time. Now he looked up. “Are you sure this is the correct account number? My system shows it was closed yesterday.”

  “What?” Maryanne asked before Vanessa could respond. “That can’t be. I checked the balances yesterday morning.”

  Vanessa looked over at her inquisitively. Maryanne had just confirmed her suspicions. Maryanne had accessed every piece of information that had leaked, and now she had fallen into the trap Vanessa and the Saint Squad had laid. Vanessa’s voice remained calm. “How did you do that?”

  “That’s my job as your assistant—to make sure everything is in order before we travel.” The assistant story was clearly for the benefit of the bank clerk, but Vanessa decided to pound the last piece of the puzzle firmly into place.

  “Yes, but I didn’t give you the account number.”

  Maryanne’s face paled slightly. “You must have had Warren give it to me.”

  “No. I didn’t give it to anyone. The only person who would have it would be the person who was working with Andrea Kemper,” Vanessa said. “I have to say, I was surprised to find out that you were the one who recommended Andrea for the Morenta assignment.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maryanne’s voice took on a higher pitch than usual. “I’m just a secretary.”

  “Oh, no. We both know better than that. As the trusted assistant to Warren, you have access to all sorts of classified information, including the intel about Ramir’s bank account,” Vanessa said. “And imagine my surprise when I found out you and Andrea were roommates during training when you started with the agency.”

  Maryanne clenched her teeth, color flooding into her cheeks.

  Vanessa stood and spoke to the bank employee. “Thank you for your cooperation.” She then reached for Maryanne’s arm and pulled her to a stand. “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

  In the act of rising, Maryanne dropped her purse. She jerked free of Vanessa’s grip and leaned down. When she straightened, she had a gun in her hand.

  “Where’s my money?” she demanded frantically. Keeping the weapon trained on Vanessa, she nodded to the man behind the desk. “Make him give it back.”

  “And to think I once thought of you as a friend,” Vanessa said with disgust. She saw the movement behind Maryanne but deliberately kept her focus on the woman.

  “That was your mistake.” Before Maryanne could continue, Damian struck from behind, grabbing around her so her arm was forced down and the gun along with it.

  Maryanne cried out and struggled against the sudden assault. Vanessa rushed forward, prying the gun from her hand. It fell to the ground as Maryanne leaned back against Damian and kicked her feet out, forcing Vanessa to jump back.

  As Damian tightened his grip to subdue her, Vanessa moved forward again with the intent of securing Maryanne’s weapon. To her surprise, Paige was standing beside her, the gun in her hand, the magazine of bullets already free of the chamber.

  Chapter 44

  Just as the thought crossed Damian’s mind that this whole ordeal was finally over, the sound of glass breaking rang out, immediately followed by the whistling of a bullet. Blood splattered onto his face and neck, and Maryanne’s body went limp and lifeless, a bullet hole now visible in her head.

  “Damian!” Paige cried out and grabbed at his arm to pull him down. That slight movement to his left saved his life, a second bullet whizzing by his ear and impacting the wall behind him.

  He released his grip on Maryanne and dropped to the ground beside Paige as he shouted to Vanessa, “Get down!”

  Screams punctuated the air as other patrons realized what had happened, and Damian spoke tersely into his comm unit. “We’ve got a shooter, southeast side, upper story.”

  Seth responded first, his voice tense. “Is everyone okay?”

  Damian looked over at Maryanne, whose eyes were glassy and staring into space. He tried to distance himself from the knowledge that the woman was now dead, reminding himself he had to focus on the here and now. “Maryanne’s dead,” Damian said.

  “Vanessa?” Seth asked.

  “She’s okay.” A third shot splintered the desk Vanessa had taken cover behind. “So far.”

  He saw the terror in Paige’s eyes, but he couldn’t think of that right now. Whoever was out there had to be stopped.

  “Quinn, do you have eyes on the shooter?” Brent asked.

  “Negative. The rooftops are clear.”

  “Does anyone else have a visual?” Damian demanded.

  “Negative,” Brent responded, followed by similar responses from the rest of the squad.

  “It’s got to be coming from one of the second-story windows across the street,” Quinn said.

  Vanessa spoke, pulling Damian’s attention back to the woman beside him. “Who would shoot Maryanne? And why?”

  “Maybe they weren’t aiming for her,” Damian suggested, all too aware that he had been mere inches from where the bullet had struck. He heard Brent giving directions to the rest of the squad, each of them positioning themselves so they would be able to corner the shooter.

  “I can’t believe she’s dead,” Paige managed to say. She still had Maryanne’s gun and bullet cartridge in her hand. “What do we do now?”

  Vanessa scooted over to them, relieving Paige of the gun and loading the cartridge back into the chamber. “We wait here. The rest of the Saint Squad will find the shooter. This is what they do.”

  The thought crossed Damian’s mind that once again the squad was about to function without him, this time in order to protect him, Paige, and Vanessa.

  Memories of the file Kel had given him to review suddenly came to mind.

  “This is what they do,” Damian repeated. He looked at Maryanne’s lifeless body, at the perfect execution-style shot through the center of her forehead, and a clarity of thought struck him. He spoke quickly to his team once more. “Everyone hold fast.”

  “What’s wrong?” Brent asked.

  “I think this is a trap,” Damian said.

  Brent’s voice came over the radio again. “A trap for who?”

  “For the people who messed up Morenta’s plan.” Damian’s mind raced with possibilities. “Give me a minute.”

  Damian shifted to face Paige. “You did the psych profile on Morenta. What lengths would he go to for revenge?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice shaky.

  “Paige, think. You can do this. If Morenta is the one who tried to kill my squad in Venezuela, what would he do if he found out they were still alive?”

  Understanding lit her eyes. “He’d go after them again to prove his strength.”

  Damian spoke into his microphone once more. “Brent, I think Morenta is behind this. He could be trying to draw you guys out.”

  “Quinn, you’ve got the best vantage point. What do you see?”

  “There’s an open window in the building across the street. It looks like the shooter is in the jewelry center.”

  “We know Morenta has been paying in diamonds. It would make sense that he could gain access there,” Damian said.

  “If you guys try for that building, everyone would be exposed when you cross the street. There’s no place to take cover.”

  While Brent gave directions to the rest of the squad, Damian turned to Paige and Vanessa. “I’m going up to the roof to help Quinn.”

  “We’ll come with you. You may need the extra sets of eyes,” Vanessa said.

  Damian didn’t bother to argue. He took a moment to determine the safest way to the stairwell. Seeing they could remain concealed behind desks and partitions almost the entire way, he outlined their route and found himself praying they would all get out of this alive.

  * * *

  “Not again.” Paige looked at the wires affixed to the door leading to the roof, now experienced enough
to recognize the plastic explosives and detonator for what they were. “How could someone have planted a bomb here? Quinn had to have gone through here when he went out on the roof.”

  “Morenta must have known the Saint Squad was here. Someone probably followed Quinn here and planted the bomb after he was outside,” Vanessa said.

  “What do you think?” Damian asked. “Is it just a motion sensor?”

  Paige knew he was talking to Vanessa, but she answered anyway. “It has that same little black box the other one did.”

  “She’s right. There’s a secondary trigger,” Vanessa agreed.

  Damian spoke into his headset. “Quinn, the door to the roof is booby-trapped. Stay where you are.”

  “That confirms Damian’s theory that this is a trap,” Brent responded. “Tristan, how long until you can get in position?”

  “One minute.”

  “Everyone hold on,” Vanessa interrupted. “We’ve got a secondary trigger on this bomb. If our shooter sees anyone coming for him, he might detonate it.”

  “Copy that,” Tristan replied.

  “Let’s do this.” Damian said, pulling his Swiss army knife from his pocket. He studied the wiring, hoping the confidence he forced into his voice would translate into his actions. Less than a minute later, he shook his head. “This has a secondary power source. I can disarm it, but it’s going to take at least ten or fifteen minutes.”

  “By then, whoever this guy is will know something’s wrong when none of the Saint Squad try to get to him,” Vanessa said. “What’s the blast radius?”

  “Twenty feet? Maybe thirty.”

  “Leave it,” Vanessa insisted. She tugged on both Damian’s and Paige’s arms, pulling them back down the stairs. “Damian, tell Quinn to make sure he’s at least thirty feet from the door.”

  Damian relayed the message.

  “Why are we leaving it?” Paige asked, struggling to keep up.

  “Hurry!” Vanessa said, not taking the time to answer Paige’s question. They made it down the first flight of stairs before she added, “That bomb might be meant for Quinn . . .”

  “Or it could be for us,” Damian said, apparently understanding Vanessa’s determination.

  They all quickened their pace. They were only a few steps past the next landing when a jolt rocked the building, plaster and shards of wood exploding through the air and down the stairwell.

  Chapter 45

  From his position in the bank parking lot, Seth heard and felt the explosion rock the ground. He looked up to see white smoke billowing from the top of the bank building. “Vanessa!”

  “We’re okay,” Damian assured him. He coughed several times before adding, “But they know we’re on to them.”

  “Quinn?” Brent asked, clearly looking for his status.

  “I’m good, and I think I may have a visual on our shooter. Male, dark hair, gray T-shirt, blue shorts.”

  Seth looked out at the street, which was now largely empty, the local tourists and shoppers all having wisely taken cover. The suspect stood just outside the doorway of the jewelry store, a phone to his ear. “I see him.”

  “Quinn, do you think you can flush him out of there?” Brent asked. “Let’s see if we can make sure this is really the guy we’re after.”

  “Let me know when.”

  “Damian, can you make it to the bank’s rear exit? I want you to back up Seth on the south side.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Jay and Tristan, be ready. He should come out into the street right between you.”

  As soon as everyone’s positions were confirmed, Brent gave the word. Quinn fired a single shot, hitting the doorway a few inches above the suspect’s head. Sure enough, the man immediately drew a weapon. He started to step back into the building, but Quinn didn’t give him the chance. He fired a second shot, this one hitting the door and startling the man forward.

  The moment he was in the street, the SEALs surrounded him, their weapons drawn. “Be smart and put down the weapon,” Brent advised.

  For a second, Seth thought he might not understand English. Then slowly, he held his weapon out sideways in front of him and lowered it to the ground.

  * * *

  “What do you think’s happening?” Paige asked Vanessa.

  “The guys will take care of whatever’s out there. The best thing we can do is stay out of the line of fire,” Vanessa told her.

  “I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on.”

  “Let’s go up on the roof, then, and see if we can help Quinn.” Vanessa led the way through the dusty stairwell, both women holding their breath the last few yards to keep from inhaling the smoke and drywall dust.

  When they reached the rooftop, Quinn was looking through the sniper scope on his rifle at the street below.

  “What’s going on down there?” Vanessa asked.

  “They got him.”

  “Him?” Paige asked. “There was only one?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Ramir only sent one person after your squad when he tried for revenge a couple years ago. I thought Morenta would have learned from Ramir’s mistakes.” Paige shifted closer to the edge of the roof and looked down. She saw Brent securing a man’s hands behind his back, Damian and Seth standing a short distance away, both of them with weapons in their hands.

  The guns didn’t look as scary from here, Paige thought. She looked over at Quinn, the sniper rifle in his hands, and she felt only a little nervous to be so close to a man wielding a weapon. She didn’t know how it had happened, but sometime over the last few days, she had come to trust these men completely.

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for some lunch,” Quinn said, still keeping his eyes dutifully on the scene below.

  “Quinn, you’re always hungry.”

  Paige listened to the friendly banter, amazed that Quinn and Vanessa seemed to be able to shift back into a normal existence even though a woman had just been shot to death a few minutes before, a woman who had been standing only a few feet from Vanessa and her. Her eyes stayed on Damian and the men below.

  A glimpse of movement caught her eye, and she shifted her gaze to see a man dressed in a plain T-shirt, faded shorts, and a ball cap. The simple fact that he was walking on a street that had up to now been deserted caused her to look closer. Recognition dawned in the same instant the man reached a hand behind his back. The diamond courier from Maracaibo.

  Even from four stories up, Paige saw the man’s hand reemerge from beneath his shirt, a gun gripped there. “Quinn! There, to your right!”

  “Shooter! Damian, your five o’clock,” Quinn called into his headset, immediately swinging his rifle toward the new threat. He fired a shot, but in his haste, the bullet went wide.

  The men below reacted, instantly keying in on the new threat. Damian led with his gun as he turned. Gunfire sounded below, the squad members diving for cover and dropping to the ground in that instant. Paige gripped her hands together, a prayer running through her mind as she watched for movement below.

  The courier was lying on the sidewalk, his gun still gripped in his hand. Brent pulled his prisoner to the side of the street, dragging the man as he stumbled behind him. Seth and Damian had dropped to the ground, sprawling on their stomachs to make sure they weren’t easy targets, each man with his weapon aimed and ready.

  When the courier lifted his hand to shoot once more, three more shots rang out, and all movement ceased.

  * * *

  “Any idea who these guys are?” Brent asked, watching as the police took their prisoner away. “He didn’t have any ID on him.”

  “That one over there is the diamond courier we saw in Maracaibo,” Damian said, more policemen working that side of the scene. “The marking spray we tagged him with showed he went to Cali, Colombia, so we’re sure he’s involved with Morenta.”

  “If we could trace him, why didn’t anyone know he was heading here?” Jay asked.

  “Someone i
n intelligence probably knew he was coming to the Caymans, but they didn’t know we were here, so they wouldn’t have known to tell us,” Brent said.

  Paige and Vanessa exited the bank with Quinn following behind them. The moment the women were clear of the building, Damian and Seth shifted their attention to them. Seth scooped Vanessa into his arms, and Paige hugged Damian.

  No one spoke for a moment. Then Paige took a deep breath and said, “This is why I don’t like guns.”

  “It’s okay now.”

  Paige swallowed hard when she pulled back and motioned to the man the police had led away. “Is that Morenta?”

  “I don’t know,” Damian admitted.

  “It’s not him,” Vanessa said. “That’s Rodrigo, one of the top men in his organization.”

  “How do you know him?” Brent asked, stepping up behind them.

  “I saw him a few times when I was undercover. He did a lot of Morenta’s dealings for him.”

  Uneasiness reflected in Paige’s eyes. “If that’s not Morenta, then he might try to get to you guys again.”

  “He might want to try, but with his sources in the CIA gone and with one of his top men now in custody, he’s going to be hard-pressed to find us,” Seth said. “It took him years to find us this time, and that was with a lot of inside help.”

  “Eventually, I have to think someone will authorize a mission to go get him,” Brent said.

  “I don’t know which one is worse,” Paige admitted. “The possibility of Morenta finding you or the idea of you guys going after him.”

  Vanessa put a hand on her back. “Sometimes it’s best not to think about how our guys spend their days.”

  Chapter 46

  “You know, I almost fell over when I saw you holding that gun.” Damian sat beside Paige on the private jet, appreciative that the rest of the squad had settled in the seating area in the back.

  “I can’t believe we were allowed to stay a whole week in the Caymans. And I really can’t believe the secretary of the navy sent a private plane to pick us up.” Paige swiveled in her seat so she was facing Damian more fully. “I could get used to this.”