by Alex Strong
“I had hoped it would be on your doorstep,” he said, “I’d had every intention of kissing you goodnight this evening.”
He opened the door for her. She climbed in, still staring at him without saying anything. Reid realized he had no idea if Jillian would ever speak to him again. Even if she had obviously enjoyed the kiss.
He leaned in and handed the driver more than enough to get her home.
“I’ll call you when I get back,” he said. “I promise.”
When Reid walked in and discovered he had beat Aaron, he turned around to wait in his car, knowing Aaron would want an explanation. And almost slammed right into him.
“Jackson, what the hell are you doing here already?” he asked.
“I happened to be in the area,” said Reid.
“Really? Doing what?” Aaron asked as they made their way to the briefing room. It was a simple enough question. Aaron was obviously just showing interest in his partner’s personal life, but it was exactly the question Reid had been dreading. Yet he couldn’t lie to the man who trusted him with his life.
“I was on a date,” Reid said, keeping his eyes forward.
Before Aaron could respond, Rollins spotted them and motioned for them to sit so they could get started.
“If you will direct your attention to the screen,” she said once they were seated, “you will see a Mode 5 cryptographer module, the transponders used for Identification Friend or Foe in military planes. You know about the two fighter planes that were shot down last week. When the wreckage was recovered, it was discovered that the modules were missing. Not a big concern, since they are useless without the key codes.”
Rollins tapped the screen and a man’s ID picture appeared.
“Yesterday this man, John Davies, went missing. He happens to be the Lead Cryptographer at Global Dynamic, the company that supplies the hardware and software for our IFF systems.”
She tapped again and various surveillance photos popped up.
“One of our contacts spotted Davies in Mexico City with Trevor Melrone, a well-known middle man for hire. We don’t know if Davies is there under duress, or if he has defected, but we need to get him out alive and keep those codes away from the transponder. Otherwise enemy aircraft will show up as friendly, and I don’t need to explain the shit storm that will cause. Normally this would be the LA office’s jurisdiction, but they’re short-handed at the moment and requesting our assistance. The plane is on stand-by. As soon as you’re ready, move out. Dismissed.”
The cab pulled up in front of Jillian’s house, and even though she knew Reid had given the driver more than enough to get her home, she still slipped the cabbie a couple extra dollars to tack onto the tip.
“Thanks,” she muttered as she slid out.
She unlocked the door, her heart sinking even lower when she heard the news on the television, signaling her father was home. In the kitchen she found him popping a frozen meal into the microwave.
“Those will kill you, you know,” she said, dropping her purse onto the counter.
“I thought you were out,” he said.
“I was. But now I’m home.” She hadn’t told him it was a date and now she really didn’t want to tell him how horribly it had ended. “Here, Papa, let me cook you something healthier. She pulled some chicken and veggies from the fridge.
“You don’t have to,” he said, but was already taking the uncooked meal out of the microwave.
“I want to. It’s the least I can do for you letting me stay here until I can get back on my feet.”
Jacob closed the freezer and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Tesoro, you are always welcome in my home.”
Jillian smiled at the Italian pet name. It was nice to know someone wanted her.
Yellow envelopes were waiting on their seats when Reid and Aaron boarded the plane about to take off for Mexico City. Reid opened his as soon as he sat down and found maps of the area around the hotel and dossiers on Trevor Melrone and John Davies, but Aaron simply laid his across his lap and continued to glare at Reid.
“So when you say date…” said Aaron.
“I mean a date with a girl,” Reid said with a frown while continuing to look over the packet.
“The neighbor girl?”
“Yes.”
“And how did that go?” asked Aaron.
Reid lowered the packet and finally looked at Aaron. “It was going just fine. Until I got the call to come in.”
“How’d she react?”
Reid frowned again. “She wasn’t too happy that I had to send her home in a cab.”
Aaron started laughing and Reid regretted telling him.
“It was probably for the best,” said Aaron.
“Yeah, whatever. Could we drop it now? We should be preparing for Mexico City.”
Aaron opened his envelope and started to look over it. A couple of minutes later he shook his head and chuckled. “I can’t believe you sent her home in a cab. Classy, man, real classy.”
There was nothing Reid could do but try to ignore him.
With the Wall Street Journal in hand, Reid sat on the red velvet round in the middle of the expansive lobby of the Gran Hotel Ciudad de Mexico where Melrone had been sighted coming in and out of. Natural light streamed through the Tiffany stained glass roof from above, and even though Reid couldn’t see him, he knew Aaron was somewhere on that fourth floor keeping an eye out for Melrone or Davies.
Reid turned another page in the newspaper.
“Target just walked in,” Aaron said over the earpiece.
Reid made a casual glance around the lobby and spotted Melrone as well. “Got it.”
Melrone strolled past Reid to the lift behind him, but Reid didn’t move from his spot. After several minutes, Aaron’s voice came over the earpiece again.
“He just got out on the third floor,” he said. “Three doors down from the northeast corner. That means he’s facing the square.”
“I’m on it,” said Reid. He folded up his newspaper and walked over to the reception desk.
“¡Hola!” said the dark-haired woman seated behind it.
“¡Hola!” he replied. “Do you speak English?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said with a warm smile. “What can I do for you?”
Reid sat down. “I need to reserve a room. I was hoping for something facing the Constitution Square.”
“Ah, the Zocalo,” she said. “It is the most requested view.”
“I realize that,” he said. “It’s just that my wife will be joining me later, and I thought that would be the most romantic.”
She smiled at his gesture and started clicking away on her computer. “Let me see what I can do.”
As she continued her search, Reid hoped this plan worked, because the other option was swiping a key and going in the front door. Because of the open halls over the lobby, that had too many variables.
“Well,” she said, “I have one guest checking out and the room will be vacant for one night only before the next reservation arrives.”
He smiled at her. “One night is all I need.”
Darkness had fallen over the city as Reid stood on the balcony of the room watching the crowd in Constitution Square. A concert was playing on the opposite end, which he hoped would work in his favor rather than against. The fewer eyes in his direction, the better.
Reid checked his watch. “Another ten minutes and I’ll just have to deal with Melrone.”
“Copy that,” said Aaron. “Hold up, Melrone just stepped out.”
Reid picked up a coil of black rope.
“Following Melrone out of the building. It’s now or never.”
“Copy that,” said Reid as climbed up onto the balcony and carefully but quickly crossed to the balcony three rooms over before fastening one end of the rope to the railing, letting the other end drop to the room below. He checked to make sure no one was paying attention before sliding down, balancing on the ledge just outside the room where Davies was thought to be.
“Still out,” Aaron replied, “but he’s just picking up food to go, so make it fast.”
Reid pulled a blade and was about to jimmy the lock when he realized the window was already open a crack. He pushed on it and met no resistance. The curtains blew out into the cooler air, and Reid could see his target sitting in a chair facing the television with his back to him and no obvious restraints. Had Davies turned sides after all?
Making as little noise as possible, Reid climbed through the window and pulled out his sidearm.
“John Davies,” Reid said quietly.
The man turned in his seat with a look of terror on his face. He raised his hands at the sight of Reid’s gun.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Keeping his gun trained on Davies, Reid scanned the room to make sure there weren’t any traps or sensors.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Davies said, panicking. “Why are you here?”
“Well, I believe I’m here to rescue you, Mr. Davies. Tell me what Melrone has on you. Why are you not walking out of this hotel right now?”
“They’ve threatened to kill my family,” he said, trembling. “They showed me pictures of my son at school.”
So the mission wasn’t going to be quite that simple. Reid knew if they took Davies now without securing his family, Melrone would give the word as soon as he realized Davies was gone.
Aaron’s voice came over the earpiece. “Melrone is headed back. You’ve got less than five minutes to get out of that room.”
“Copy that.” Reid turned back to Davies. “I’m going to make sure your family is out of harm’s way and then we will get you out of here.”
Davies nodded.
“Do you know why you were brought here?” Reid asked.
“Only that we are meeting someone tomorrow,” Davies said, shaking his head. “But I don’t know who. I’m guessing this has something to do with the transponders that were stolen last week. Am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Melrone is in the hotel,” said Aaron.
“I have to go,” Reid told Davies. “But I’ll be back once your family is safe. I just need you to hang in there.”
Davies looked frightened, but nodded.
Reid climbed out the window and made his way back up the rope.
“Where’s Davies?” Aaron asked when he stepped into the room only seconds after Reid.
“They’ve threatened his family,” Reid told him. “We need to get to them first, but if we take his family before we grab Davies, he’ll be that much harder to grab.”
“Or they might just kill him,” said Aaron.
“Or that.” Reid grabbed the secure satellite phone. “This will have to be a coordinated effort.”
It was just after two in the morning, and very few souls were moving about the hotel. Reid and Aaron stood outside Melrone’s room, Reid with the satellite phone to his ear. On the other end was a tactical team ready to take Davies’s family into custody.
Aaron knocked on the door a few times until Melrone finally opened it, half asleep. He never knew what hit him.
“Operation Jay Bird is a go,” Reid said as he and Aaron walked into the room. “I repeat, Jay Bird is a go.”
“Copy that,” said the voice on the other end, and the line went dead.
Davies didn’t need to be told what to do. He jumped from the bed and walked out of the room flanked by Reid and Aaron.
“A team is securing your family as we speak,” Reid told Davies. “We need to get you to the extraction point. After a debriefing, you will be with them again.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
The three of them took the elevator down to the ground floor where a single late check-in was happening at the same desk Reid had been sitting only twelve hours earlier.
Reid took a second glance at the desk and noticed three other men in close proximity. He’d be willing to bet money they were packing heat. The seated gentleman stood and turned in their direction, and Reid watched the impeccably dressed man do a double take of John Davies with confusion before looking to Reid. Anger began to swell in the man’s face, and everything instantly clicked for Reid. This was the man Davies was supposed to be meeting tomorrow.
Reid pushed Davies down behind a couch just as the man reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. A split second later his goons and Aaron were following suit, and the clerk at the desk was ducking for cover.
Reid fired off a shot before ducking behind the couch. A return shot sent a bullet right through the couch, narrowly missing him, and Reid knew it wasn’t going to provide much cover.
“Get Davies out of here,” shouted Aaron, “I’ll cover you.”
Reid stayed low as he pushed Davies towards the door while Aaron fired a quick succession of shots towards the four attackers. Reid and Davies stepped out onto the dark street that wasn’t nearly as unpopulated as the hotel lobby had been. He made a quick assessment and realized the straightest line to the extraction point was through the Constitution Square, but it also provided the least cover.
Aaron came rushing out. “Go, go, GO!”
Reid grabbed Davies’ arm and pulled him as fast as the man would let him.
“If you want to see your family again, we need to run!” yelled Reid.
The shots continued to ring out, and Reid felt a bullet graze his arm as they were about to turn the only corner before the square.
Aaron stopped and turned to fire a couple more rounds, giving the other two a chance to get a few steps ahead.
When they crossed the street to the square, Reid was vaguely aware of a sharp pain in his lower back, but he didn’t have time to think about it.
“Fuck this,” Aaron said when he caught up to Reid. “We’re never going to make it by foot.”
“Agreed,” said Reid as he turned to fire another shot, still keeping a tight grip on Davies.
On their side of the square, Reid saw a taxi unloading a fare and bee-lined it, knocking into the people waiting to get in. He shoved Davies into the back before turning to cover Aaron. The bystanders quickly got out of the way.
Aaron opened the front passenger side of the door and climbed in. “Drive!” he shouted to the flabbergasted driver.
Reid got in, but kept the door open just enough to aim a few more shots at the men chasing them, then closed it as they sped away. Reid twisted in his seat to look out the back window and saw two pissed men arrive where the taxi had been parked only moments ago.
“Fuck, Jackson,” Aaron called from the front seat. “What happened to your back?”
Reid’s hand reached around and felt the warm sticky liquid. He’d had his share of scrapes and bruises, but as Reid pulled his blood drenched hand back around, he didn’t remember ever seeing this much red.
“I think I’ve been shot,” he said quietly. As Reid’s heart rate slowed, he could feel the pain replacing the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body.
“Davies,” Aaron barked, “put your hand over it. We need to stop the bleeding.”
All color had drained from Davies face, and he looked like he was trying to decide whether to puke or pass out.
“It’s okay,” said Reid. “I think I can put pressure on it from here.” But his vision was already starting to blur.
“We’re almost there,” said Aaron. “Stay with me, Jackson!”
Aaron’s voice sounded so far away. Reid could see Aaron’s lips moving, but he couldn’t make out the words as everything went black.
CHAPTER FOUR
Jillian walked into the back room during her break and pulled the phone from her locker. Still no word from Reid. Could it really be that hard for him to send a simple text? Maybe he was waiting for her to say something, she thought as she went into her messages. Maybe he was waiting to see how mad she was. Scowling, she shoved the phone back into her locker without sending anything. She was still mad. It was probably for the best that
he wasn’t calling her, she decided, and walked back out to her register.
Whispering. Soft, yet somehow grating whispers as Reid came to. He slowly opened his eyes, struggling to adjust to the brightness.
“He’s very lucky,” said a voice he didn’t recognize. “Another inch north and he would’ve been looking at months of recovery, not days.”
“So you’re saying I won’t have to train a new partner.”
Reid smirked as he opened his eyes more fully. “You should be so lucky.” The difficulty of the words surprised him.
Aaron and a doctor looked at Reid.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Jackson,” said Aaron. “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”
“I don’t feel lucky,” Reid said, grimacing from the pain. “What the hell happened?”
“You were shot.”
“But the vest…”
“The bastards had steel core bullets,” said Aaron.
“Fuck,” Reid muttered. “How bad is it?”
“Not as bad as you would expect,” said the doctor. “Your vest may not have been able to stop it, but it was slowed considerably and settled into muscle without damaging any vital organs. The biggest concern was the blood loss. That’s why you blacked out. We had to give you a transfusion before we could go in and attempt to remove the bullet. Your stitches can come out in about ten days and the muscle where you were shot is going to be tender for a while. But you should be good as new in no time.”
“That’s good to hear,” said Reid scratching an itch on his left arm, but his fingernails only met with bandage. He looked at it, remembering the bullet graze, then to Aaron.
“How did you come out unscathed?” he asked.
“Guess I’m just more graceful,” said Aaron.
Reid started to laugh, but was stopped short by the searing pain in his back.
Forty-eight hours later Reid was back at work, being debriefed with Aaron.
“This is the man who was supposed to meet with Davies?” Reid asked, looking up at the screen.
“Anton Casimir,” said Rollins, “a for-profit terrorist. Born in the Ukraine, he was imprisoned at the age of sixteen for murdering his mother’s abusive boyfriend. Two years later he escaped killing a guard in the process and has never stayed long in one place since. It is unclear if he was planning to use the codes and transponder directly or was selling them.”