Shadows (Black Raven Book 1)

by Barcelona, Stella

“HALO?” Sebastian asked. A high-altitude, low-opening jump might be their best bet. The technique would prevent detection of the plane and jumpers if they decided to access the building from the roof. Trask was no fool. He’d have high-tech tracking systems to notify security if the perimeter was breached.

  “What I was thinking,” Zeus said. “Extreme accuracy will be a bitch with this wind.”

  “It might be our only op-”

  “Too dangerous. HALO onto a ten-story building under these conditions? I’m analyzing parameters given wind and cloud ceiling,” Ragno said. “With freefalling to 3500 feet before opening your chutes, that’s a terminal velocity-”

  “Ragno,” Sebastian said. “We know. Just check out the weather for a HALO drop in approximately two hours, with the understanding that it won’t be a cakewalk.”

  Of the agents who had arrived with him from D.C., four were on the ground, nearby. The bum huddled in a doorway a block down was theirs. A guy who appeared to be sleeping off a drunk in his car about a third of the way into the block was theirs. Two others were unseen, but they hadn’t yet stepped onto the property. Two other agents were doing recon by boat on the water side of the building, looking for a weakness there.

  “That was Mike Jackson, and Soams guarding the front entrance,” Zeus said, his tone grim as they passed the midpoint of the block.

  Up until a year ago, both men had been trusted Black Raven agents. “Yeah. Saw them.” Sebastian indicated to Agent Black to continue forward. Best not to pass in front twice. His agents—ex-agents—would notice the vehicle if they drove by twice. “Begs the fucking question; how many more of our people now work for Trask?”

  “How much of us did they take to him?” Ragno snarled. Sebastian heard her fingers going a mile a minute. Closing gaps, he knew.

  “One situation at a time,” Sebastian said

  “I can multitask,” Ragno answered.

  Yeah, she could. Like no one else. “Remind me to recommend you get a raise.”

  “Thank you. I gave myself one last month.”

  Sebastian grinned. “Hope it was substantial.”

  In reply, all he heard was her soft breaths and the clacking of her keyboard.

  “Back to the hangar?” Agent Black asked.

  “Yeah. Hot coffee, energy drinks, and strategies. We’ll be ready to fill the others in as soon as they land. I want a foolproof plan in place when they get here.” Foolproof, meaning Skye’s family would be reunited. As hard as he tried not to think about her, she was in his mind as he raced through scenarios. Each option was viewed with the importance of making sure collateral damage—meaning damage that would affect her—was avoided at all costs.

  He’d seen enough of the property and Trask Enterprises building to know that he needed to use all agents who were headed his way. Ragno’s team was pulling every satellite map, every public-record plan of the building, and any and all information they could find on James Trask, who had purchased the property three years earlier. After months of extensive renovations, it became the East Coast headquarters of Trask Enterprises. Much of Trask’s labor-intensive operations were in Third World countries. Sebastian, having firsthand experience in how much easier it was to work in countries other than the United States, could guess why.

  Planning time was torture, yet Sebastian considered, and rejected, multiple methods of attack and extraction. Given the manner in which Trask had brutally killed the marshals and his own agents, he knew he had to be careful. In this situation, to fail to plan was to plan to fail. One false move, and both Spring and Barrows would be dead.

  If they weren’t already.

  “Sebastian. Three of our current agents have prior experience working with Trask,” Ragno said. “Two of them are in Syria at the moment and one of them is in Russia. One was perfectly clear with us at the time of hiring, that he’s operating under a false identity. Agent Zane Axel.”

  They didn’t often hire agents who were under assumed identities, but it happened when there were good reasons for it. “What are the reasons for the assumed identity?”

  “He worked for Trask for seven years. Said he needed to change his name when he left Trask. He’s been with us five years. Exemplary record. A valuable agent.”

  “What were his references, because I’m assuming we didn’t call Trask?”

  “None. He tested in.”

  Sebastian was impressed. Very few agents were hired by Black Raven without references. Testing in meant that he went through six months of rigorous exams, mental and physical, without getting paid anything but a subsidence salary. “Find Agent Axel first. While I talk to him, find the other two and talk to them.”

  “Will do.”

  With a moment free from Ragno, and a few minutes before they reached the hangar they were using as a staging area, Sebastian called the agent who was in charge of the D.C. safe house where, he knew, Skye was restless, scared, and doing her damned best to hold it together. “How is she?”

  “Calm,” the female agent said, “but pacing.”

  “Put her on.”

  He heard Skye draw a deep breath in the slight pause before she spoke. He visualized her collecting herself, her right hand at her collarbone, tapping at it with her index finger, trying to be calm when she felt anything but. “Please give me good news.”

  “I know where they are,” he said, “and I’m assessing extraction options.”

  She drew a deep, shaky breath, the kind that pulled every nerve in his body taut. His mind ached to reassure her, while his body ached to hold her. Even now, she wasn’t the type to cry. God. She was exactly the kind of woman he had always hoped to find. Before he gave up looking.

  Her next question was simple and direct. “How long?”

  He glanced at his watch. The C130J was still an hour and a half from landing. He’d have a plan by the time they landed. It wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes to organize the agents. “Not more than four hours. Maybe less.”

  Silence.

  He didn’t know what else to say.

  “I’m afraid I’ll die without them,” she whispered. Her tone wasn’t accusatory. It reflected that she was staring into the pit of despair, was desperately afraid, and she didn’t have a damn soul but him to confide in.

  “I know,” he said, understanding the stakes long before she voiced them. Not on my watch. He wanted to tell her that, but he couldn’t. No one else is dying today. He couldn’t promise that, either. “And that won’t happen, if I can do anything in my power to stop it.”

  Lame beyond words. But honest. Anything else amounted to false assurances, because he didn’t have control of the situation. Not yet. While confident in his ability to rescue Spring and Barrows, he had no idea what shape the two were already in, nor did he know what the hell was going to happen the minute Trask became aware that his property was breached. He added, “I’ll call the minute I know more.”

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice firm. “Be safe.”

  “Sebastian,” Ragno interrupted, and the connection to Skye was gone, “I’ve got Agent Axel on the phone. I’ve given him the facts.”

  “Sir,” Agent Axel said. “I was in charge of Central American security operations for Trask Enterprises. I left before Trask acquired the Norfolk, Virginia property. Trask is a paranoid, sadistic son of a bitch. He loves to torture.”

  Not something Sebastian wanted to hear. “Why did you leave?”

  “I understand chain of command, and I understand the need for blind obedience. With Trask, though, I witnessed one too many arbitrary killings.”

  “Arbitrary?”

  “James Trask kills managers whose factories don’t meet quotas. Beheadings are not unheard of. He’s got handlers who make sure none of his more heinous acts are traced to him. He’s nothing but a rich and powerful terrorist, fighting for the glory of nothing but James Trask. I didn’t sign up for that, sir.”

  “You felt compelled to change your name?”

  “Yes, sir
. I was on the fringe of Trask’s inner circle in Central America, working with men who do not have the option of leaving. They’re highly paid. Staggering amounts. More than I can ever hope to make as a Black Raven agent.”

  That said a lot, because Black Raven’s pay scale was astronomical. “So he pays for silence and loyalty.”

  “And he kills people who aren’t loyal. Hence my name change. I’m sure he expended significant efforts hunting me down,” Agent Axel said. “In his Central American headquarters, several rooms were reserved for Trask’s aberrant behavior. His all-consuming need to torture. He called them treatment rooms. They looked like hospital rooms. He had medical staff. The top floor of his building was his private living quarters, and nothing else. He likes his rooms large and spacious, with views. Below his top-floor living quarters was his private office, where only a few people were ever allowed. On the floor below his office were the treatment rooms, with a private stairwell between the floors. I’d suspect he has the same set up in Norfolk. He’s a creature of habit.”

  Agent Axel drew a deep breath before continuing. “Sir. This man craves torturing others. He’s a freak. When he’s in his torture chambers, or when he’s going to kill someone, he wears a strange sort of mask. It distorts his features. Changes colors. In general, it’s horrifying. I can’t describe it any other way.”

  Sebastian’s stomach twisted. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. When I worked for him, he always had an exit strategy. The man didn’t so much as drive to one of his own factories, without having his security detail know exactly how to extricate him from any adverse situation that might arise. His overseas holdings are extensive. From Norfolk, he can easily disappear into any number of countries that wouldn’t extradite him to the U.S.”

  Sebastian glanced into the visor mirror. Zeus was also listening to Agent Axel. Their eyes locked. Carefully orchestrated exit strategies indicated that Trask was not the type to stand and fight. Cowards ran. A man worried about saving his own ass might not stop to kill his hostages. A sadist might, however. The security detail in charge of the man would also have other priorities, and those priorities would revolve around saving Trask, not killing hostages, or taking them with him.

  Maybe.

  He sure as hell hoped so.

  “Ragno, Sebastian,” Zeus said. “Give me a few minutes.”

  Sebastian nodded, as Zeus clicked off the shared communication line.

  “Hello my sweet angel,” Zeus said. “How was school today?”

  As they drove back to the hangar, Sebastian’s mind focused on extraction scenarios while listening to Zeus talk to his daughter. As always, Zeus’s voice was calm and controlled. Yet when he spoke to six-year-old Ana, a soft lining in his tone revealed something the man didn’t often show the world-an attachment to something other than Black Raven’s work, an attachment that encompassed emotional depth and intense caring. Concern, love, and empathy were evident as he talked with his daughter about her day and her homework, then ended the call with, “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Love you, baby girl.”

  ***

  Four hours after McCollum gave them the location, Sebastian and Zeus were standing before forty Black Raven agents in the hangar. There were thirty-seven men and three women. Some of the agents had backgrounds in military combat arms, others had SWAT experience. All had excelled in Black Raven’s rigorous training programs for firearms skills, problem-solving ability, and team compatibility. Sebastian knew the experienced, elite agents by name, and he was familiar with most of their backgrounds. Anything he didn’t know, Ragno and Zeus fed him as he talked. They split into ten four-man teams, with Sebastian and Zeus each taking a team. The other teams were led by the agents with the most experience in hostage rescue and urban warfare.

  “Ragno, get McCollum on the phone.”

  When McCollum answered, he said, “The operation will be noisy. I need you to mobilize a naval team to secure the perimeter and keep local law enforcement away. You might want to prepare after-the-fact press releases that it was a military drill. You’re good at bullshit. Think of something. Call me back ASAP with the name of the person who’ll be in charge.”

  To the agent he had singled out, he said, “You’re in charge of the liaison effort. Naval personnel are not to get involved or have access to the premises. Perimeter security is their only role. Got it?”

  He gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

  “You are operating under orders of Senator Robert McCollum, who is reporting directly to the President. That is all you know. If there’s any issue, tell them to call McCollum. He’ll provide further support for keeping them off the property.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ragno, mobilize a team of Cleaners. We’ll need men here to deal with the fall out.”

  To his agents, he said. “Goals. One, rescue Spring Barrows. Two, rescue Richard Barrows. Three, James Trask is not to escape. Ragno, stream their photos.”

  She did.

  “Now stream the photos of our former Black Raven agents who currently work for Trask.”

  As their photographs appeared on a large monitor to his left, and individual iPads, he watched his agents. “Remember these faces. You may know them. They were once Black Raven agents. If these men are in Trask’s inner sanctum and if you encounter any of them, feel free to thank them for compromising the integrity of our operations in a manner that led to the death of our agents. Thank them in any manner you see fit and that is warranted by the situation.”

  He didn’t need to be more explicit.

  “Sebastian,” Ragno said, “That’s not-”

  He spoke over her. “Sorry, Ragno. Now’s not the time for leniency. The teams with Zeus and myself are parachuting onto the roof.” The weather wasn’t optimal, but a HALO jump was possible. They could handle it. “Omega team will follow us. Omega team will remain on the roof and provide sniper coverage on the action on the ground and be on watch for Trask to attempt an air escape. Omega team will have surface-to-air missiles for use, if necessary.

  “We don’t know what kind of alarms are in place,” he continued. “Landing on the roof may trigger them. The moment alarms are in play, we’re engaging in full assault with all teams. Alpha Team is my team. Beta Team is Zeus’s team. There are four potential rooftop entry points. Here. Here. Here. And here.”

  Analysts on Ragno’s team were streaming images as Sebastian spoke. Close-range satellite imagery revealed rooftop details. “We’ll assess when we get there. We’ll make as much progress as we can into the building. The goal is to get to floors seven, eight, and nine, the floors that thermal imaging flagged for us, without setting off alarms. It’s highly unlikely we will make it there,” he said, acknowledging and embracing the uncertainties they were facing. “Once the penetration by Alpha, Beta, and Omega teams produces an alarm, we’ll use all other teams for the mother of all diversions at ground level. Goal is to draw all Trask security to ground level.”

  “Two teams are to breach the property via water, disable all watercraft, and access the property that borders the waterfront. Two other teams will access the property in armored vehicles. The signal is go, go, go. Upon hearing that, from me or Zeus, go straight through the guard gate and into the doors of Trask Enterprises, using whatever force is necessary.”

  Ragno interrupted, “Excuse me, Sebastian, but you’re authorizing all-out combat. Aside from the Geneva Convention, you’re operating on domestic soil. You can’t go in shooting to kill anything in your way.”

  “Sorry, Ragno,” he said, “can’t hear you-”

  “Sebastian-”

  “I’m going to turn you off for a while.”

  More instructions followed. Sebastian didn’t intend to let Trask, or anyone of importance, out of the building alive, and he made his intentions clear to his agents. By the steady, focused looks his agents were giving him, he’d bet that none planned on showing mercy. Their own had been killed. It was time for retaliation.

  A h
alf hour later, under cover of cloudy darkness and using night vision goggles, he and twelve other agents parachuted out of the C130J, the cold air enveloping him. He landed on the roof, unsnapped the parachute’s bindings, and pulled off his oxygen mask. He listened to nothing but a distant airplane, traffic on a nearby interstate, and the quiet steps of his agents as they assembled into their teams and readied themselves for the extraction. No alarm. At least none that he could hear.

  He had reestablished connection with Ragno, and all team leaders were mic’d to her. “HALO successful, Ragno.”

  “Fabulous. Good luck, all.”

  Sebastian gave Zeus a nod when they isolated the best entryway, a service stairwell for air-conditioning units. Three shots, fired with a silencer-equipped Glock, took care of the lock. An agent opened the door, and he was in, his M4 Carbine hoisted. Seven cement stairs led to a door wired with an alarm. In the perfect world, he’d have time to disable it. He eyed the mechanism, figured that tampering with it at the door would only trip it. To disable the system, he had to go to another location, and they couldn’t get there from where they were. Time they’d lose by backtracking and attempting to disarm the system? Too much.

  Team leaders were poised for his command.

  “Go, go, go.”

  Alarms rang. Short bursts of gunfire could be heard, as his men moved forward. Progress was reported in short, clear words and phrases. “Delta Team has docks clear and secure.”

  “Three guards, at gate. Dead. Two in parking lot, weapons raised. Dead. Armored vehicle through plate glass windows. Two front desk security guards. Dead.”

  “Two guards, lobby rear. Dead.”

  “One guard running, North side of building. Running away.”

  “Do not give chase,” Sebastian said. “Focus on building. Perimeter agent will take care of him.”

  “Fifteen Trask guards, from stairwell, far right of lobby.”

  As a barrage of gunfire filled the communication airwaves, Sebastian and Zeus and their teams made progress onto the top floor. They parted ways, Zeus down a hallway and Sebastian into the only door on the tenth floor. It led into spacious living quarters, with floor to ceiling windows. No one there. Moving as a unit, he and his team descended a spiral staircase to the ninth floor, into a large, sterile office. Television monitors displayed several other areas of the building, but he focused on only one, a monitor that showed what looked like a hospital room. There was one hospital bed, and a man lay on his stomach on top of it, arm draped down the side. Sebastian recognized Barrows.