Wasp (Uncommon Enemies: An Iniquus Romantic Suspense Mystery Thriller Book 1)

by Fiona Quinn

  Gage rocked back on his heels, watching Zoe getting strapped in. His mind, though, was securely on how the heck someone had followed them. Gage had watched every move that Titus made. Titus was on point with his counter surveillance maneuvers. Gage’s mind went back to Titus’s explanation to Zoe of all the ways he could be entangled by his past associations with everyone who had a hand in this game. He considered the possibility that Titus had compromised them. But if he had, wouldn’t he have made up some garbage about having cellphone issues in the safe house? Iniquus as a company, and Titus as a commander were above reproach. Gage sincerely believed that, or he wouldn’t have interviewed to be on the teams, and he wouldn’t have called Titus to help Zoe. But you also thought Zoe was just a lab tech. Yeah. He was definitely questioning his own sense of what was true and what was not. “How do you think they found us, Titus?”

  “I don’t know, man, we’ll work on that later. Right now, the plan is to follow this tunnel. It’ll take us to an exfil house about a klick to the north. Once we’re topside, there’s a landline I can use to send an encrypted message, call in the cavalry. You got a weapon on you?”

  “The Glock from earlier.”

  Titus reached into the front pocket of his tactical jacket. “Here’s an extra magazine, sixteen rounds. Zoe? We’re going to move forward now. I’ve got point. Gage’s going to bring up the rear. Gage and I have our weapons in hand, and you have the chem-light. If we run into anyone down here, I need you to underhand throw the chem-light toward them, try to get it to roll toward their feet so we can see where to aim, and they can’t get a good bead on us. As soon as that light leaves your hand, duck behind us, get flat on the ground up against the wall out of the way of our feet. Do you understand the plan? You don’t deviate, no matter what genius idea pops into your head. We’re working as a team, and that’s your only role. Got it?”

  Zoe nodded her head. Her teeth were chattering so loudly that Gage could hear it echoing off the walls of the tunnel.

  “Tell me the plan,” Titus commanded.

  “If someone’s there, I throw the light, fall to the ground, and get flat up next to the wall.”

  Gage had given those same instructions about a dozen times as he moved assets out of harm’s way. It sure felt like a different ride when he was in a tunnel under Maryland soil, protecting the woman he loved. Gage let that last thought filter through his head, and he tucked it away to examine later when his nerves weren’t so raw.

  “Good.” Titus pulled the go bag over his shoulders, reached for Zoe’s hand and planted it on his back. “Don’t let go unless you’re throwing the light and diving for cover. I need to know I haven’t lost you, and I don’t want to keep turning around to scan. Got it?”

  “Yes,” Zoe whispered.

  They moved forward at a slow jog. The floor was muddy and slick. In places, they needed to duck their heads a little to move under the joists that kept the roof from collapsing. The farther into the tunnel they moved, the stronger the smell of rot and decay.

  Their footfalls echoed through the space. Zoe’s breath came in ragged huffs. Gage was counting paces. He jogged at sixty-six paces per hundred meters, Titus said they should be there in a klick. When they reached around the six-hundred pace mark, Titus had slowed his speed perceptibly. He probably felt Zoe getting tired. She was running with twenty pounds of metal around her chest. At pace six hundred and ten the quality of the air changed. Another fifty paces, and they came to another ladder.

  “Hang tight,” Titus whispered as he clambered up the rungs.

  Zoe held the chem-light above her head as Titus moved cautiously to the top. He pushed the trap door open about an inch, enough to get eyes on the floorboards and see if there were any enemy boots in sight. They stood as still as statutes, ears straining. Finally, Titus pushed the door all the way open, letting natural daylight stream through the hole. Zoe moved to follow, but Gage’s hand on her shoulder held her back.

  Overhead, they could hear the soft pad of stealthy feet as Titus checked the house. Gage felt like a mouse caught in a trap. Gage had used his elbows to skim the narrow sides of the tunnel the whole way, looking for a possible turnoff. There seemed to be only two ways to get in and out. Gage didn’t like this level of vulnerability. He liked options. Sweat dripped from his neck down the back of his cotton shirt. He was antsy to get topside and was about to take action when Titus’s head poked down the hole.

  “Clear,” he called down.

  Chapter Seventeen

  GAGE

  Gage left Zoe’s overnight bag in the tunnel, to be retrieved when things were safer. He zipped the computer into his jacket, shoved his Glock into his waistband, and scrambled up the ladder and out of the hole, relieved to fill his lungs with fresh air.

  He scanned the room. They were standing in the corner of a minimally furnished bedroom containing a painted iron bed, a faded quilt, and a cross on the wall. He followed Zoe into the living room where she plopped onto a threadbare recliner, her eyes searching his face for answers.

  Titus pointed his finger to the olive-green rotary phone hanging on the kitchen wall. “I sent a distress signal to my team. They’re en route. We’ll have backup within the half hour. Do you have cell service now?” Titus asked as he pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a number, said, “Systems check,” and moved his phone back to the holster on his belt.

  Gage rang Titus’s phone. When it rang he swiped the red button and put his phone back in his pocket. “The cell jammers aren’t working out here.”

  “That was a drill,” Zoe whispered. “We ran down the tunnel so we could try it out and make sure that the plan worked, right? No one went to the factory to find me, right?”

  Gage took up watch at the side window where he had a clear visual of the road that ran along the front of the house. Trees dotted the broad expanse of the front yard. His head was on a swivel.

  Titus was the one to answer her. “Zoe, we don’t know who wants you or what they’re resources are. We need to err on the side of caution. You have some powerful people in play. Powerful resources.”

  “But how?” Her voice warbled. “No one followed us.”

  Titus moved from window to window, lifting the curtains a fraction of an inch, checking the perimeter, and letting the fabric fall back into place. “No one followed us on the ground.”

  Gage pulled a heavy, chest-high bookcase away from the wall.

  Zoe sat in the corner of the room looking lost. “What does that mean, Gage?”

  “Someone could have had us on satellite and been following us remotely. It’s a huge stretch. I didn’t tell anyone that I called Titus. We left my car back at the hospital, and when Titus picked me up from Quantico, I left my SUV in a garage near the Metro line. In order to follow us, they would have needed to identify Titus and his Hummer as part of our team. Zoe, come here. I need you to come sit in this corner.”

  “That all seems very improbable.” She moved to the corner and wrestled herself down. It wasn’t easy with the bulk and rigidity of the bulletproof vest.

  Gage had to grab her hands and lower her into position.

  “The probability of all that happening is very low,” she said again.

  “Very low. Move up against the corner, Zoe. I’m going to push this bookcase across the space.”

  “But why?” she squeaked as he moved the case into position.

  He knew she hated small spaces. Hated the feeling of being confined or trapped. Even clutter around her apartment made her uncomfortable; that’s why her place was always minimalist and clean. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know this sucks. But hopefully it won’t suck for long.”

  “Have you got her situated, Gage?”

  “Yeah. What have we got for weapons?”

  “I’ll give the house a shake. You look in the jump bag and see what you can come up with.”

  Gage pulled the hook and loop closure open on the front of the bag to find a loaded revolver. He leaned over the top
of the bookcase. “Zoe?”

  She stared up at him with wide eyes.

  “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Gage couldn’t imagine Zoe with a weapon in her hand, even if she’d grown up in a military household. She was a bookworm, not an adventurer. But over the last few hours, Zoe had been busting his preconceived notions left and right.

  She twitched her head to indicate no.

  “Okay, this is a revolver. It’s very easy to shoot because it never jams. But the downside is you only have five bullets, and it has a kick.” He reached down and positioned her hands properly around the grip. “If someone is pointing a weapon at you, look at his stomach. Not his face or his eyes, Zoe. Force yourself to look at his stomach, then reach out like you’re pointing your finger at him, and pull the trigger.”

  Her knuckles were white as she squeezed the gun between her hands.

  “Deep breaths. We don’t know what’s going on right now. We’re just trying to be prepared for anything, right? Panther Force is only a short distance out. We should hear them roaring up the road any minute now. Noise out front can mean good guys. Breathe, Zoe. Are you breathing?”

  “Trying to.”

  “Good. You’re doing great. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  Titus was coming out of a side room with a shotgun and a box of shells. He hunkered into the corner that had a view of the front door and was shoving the shells into his pockets.

  “Do you hear engines approaching?” Titus asked.

  Gage stilled. Yeah, he could hear them. He leaned over the top of the case. “I’m here, Zoe. I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  Zoe said nothing in return, just looked up at him with her glittering black eyes.

  Titus swung his head, telling Gage to cover the back. Gage moved into position.

  The house fell silent. Those engines should have driven by the house by now. Gage’s senses expanded, sucking in information around him. The bird calls, the leaves blowing across the lawn, every small intonation was analyzed. Gage knew this feeling well. His body was primed for battle. He settled down into the steady count of combat breathing, keeping his mind oxygenated, keeping his body relaxed. Time moved forward and nothing changed. He wondered if what he and Titus had heard was a roadway nearby that he couldn’t account for from the small visual field he had in his position. From what he could tell, anyone coming up the back had little cover. The tree line looked a good fifty yards away. A side street was to his right.

  Gage glanced at his watch. “If your team didn’t hit traffic, they’re only a couple minutes out,” he whispered in Titus’s direction. Gage turned his head toward Zoe’s hiding spot. “Soon, Zoe, okay?”

  Zoe didn’t answer, but he could imagine her nodding her understanding.

  The light on the side table went out. Gage took a step back to get Titus in his view. Titus moved to the phone, lifted the receiver, and after holding it to his ear for a moment, he shook his head and put it back in place. They both checked their cell phones again. Nada.

  “Jammers. This isn’t your guys, is it?”

  “No way,” Titus responded. His gaze shot back to the bedroom with the escape tunnel and he tipped his head. Did Gage think that would be a good option?

  “I’d rather not, man,” Gage said. “Going down that hole feels like being a fish in a barrel.”

  “I’m not going back down in the tunnel again,” Zoe’s voice rose from behind the shelves.

  “Titus, man, if they were able to cut the power and the phone lines they must be close.” Gage licked his lips. He slid his phone from his belt and pulled up the number for Special Agent Prescott. He followed Zoe’s lead from last night and texted, Zoe SOS, pressed send, and stuck the phone back in his pocket. Since texts were delivered asynchronously, there was the slight chance that it could slip through, and if not, at least he knew the text would keep trying until it was able to be delivered. These bastards couldn’t keep jamming the airwaves forever, eventually Prescott would get the heads up.

  “Titus, I’ve got a black SUV coming up the side road. Could it be one of yours?”

  “Black, not grey?”

  “Black, Durango.”

  “Not mine. I have the same coming up the front. Counting two heads. Yup. Here we go. AKs.”

  “Zoe?” Gage called, his voice gruff. “I need you to lay on your side with your back to the bookcase. I want you to pull your knees to your chest and tuck your head down tight. If there are any bullets, they’ll need to get through the books and wood, then they’ll hit your vest. Stay tucked tight. Tell me when you’re in position.” Gage worked to make his voice strong and easy, as if this was no big deal. It was a pretty damned big deal. The SUV had pulled behind a copse of hardwood tress, and Gage counted three heads coming up the back. His pistol and limited ammo would be shit stacked up against MP5 submachine guns that his three had in hand. All three men hid their faces behind black ski masks They moved in practiced formation, leap frogging each other to get closer to the house.

  “How would they know we’re here, Titus?”

  “I don’t know, man. We’ll have to drill down on that question after we put these tangos to sleep.”

  “Where’s this cavalry you promised us? Times up. They’re supposed to be here by now.”

  “Focus,” Titus growled.

  Gage watched as the first guy in full tactical uniform jumped the garden fence and ran for the door. Gage massaged the trigger, waiting for the perfect headshot that would take out this guy’s nervous system. He needed to make sure there was no last-minute burst of ammo spraying the clapboard walls that offered almost zero in the way of real protection. Those bullets would strafe the house, taking out everyone inside. Just as Gage was about to squeeze the trigger, pink mist engulfed the man’s head. The tango’s body slumped to the ground.

  One of his teammate turned and fired in the direction of the bullet’s origin. Gage knew the first man was downed by a sniper rifle. Some guy in a ghillie suit was probably prone in the field just waiting for someone to run in his direction.

  “Heads up, Gage. We’ve got company. The cavalry you were doubting is here. They’re dressed in grey camo, Iniquus uniforms. You touch one hair on one of my guys’ chinny-chin-chins with your fucking Lauchheimer Trophy shooting skills, and you’ll be facing a wrath worse than hell, my brother.”

  “Copy that.” Gage shook his head at Titus’s mention of his elite shooting award. He hoped to hell those skills would serve him now. The two remaining tangos were moving in fast. Gage flung himself behind the window frame, hoping for some modicum of protection. The two men split up. One fired toward the woods, forcing anyone back there to duck and cover, the other was racing toward the kitchen door. The tango’s MP5 swept high. These men were too well-trained to be shooting so poorly. Gage thought the guy was probably trying to force their heads down, their bodies behind cover. Keep them from shooting. It didn’t seem like he intended to kill everyone in the house. Gage thought back to the bag brought in by the two Israelis the other night. It was packed to capture. They were coming to take Zoe alive. As for Titus and him, these guys probably didn’t care about their health as much.

  The tango was on the patio now. He stopped for a nanosecond glancing down at his dead teammate. As he hopped the body and put his foot on the porch stair, a grey-clad hulk swung around the corner and tackled the man to the ground. Gage had a bead on the guy near the field. He pulled the trigger and saw him fall and roll. When he got up, he gripped his shoulder and took off toward the Durango.

  Bullets strafed the house from the front. Gage could hear the plinking of metal and exploding glass. From the front room, the sound of Zoe mewling, temporarily dragged his attention away from the fight. When he spun back, he saw the tango slip through the Panther’s grasp and leap through the door. Gage brought his fist up and clocked the man with a hard right hook across the jaw. His knuckles slid across the knitted surface of his mask. Gage readied an uppercut, bu
t before he could deliver it, the tango dropped. The Panther shot through the doorway, flinging himself on top of the unconscious man. He cuffed him and gave him a pat down before he unceremoniously hauled the guy the rest of the way into the house and shut the door.

  Gage ducked and ran for the front room.

  “Clear,” Titus yelled, as he popped the front door open for his team members to come in.

  Gage dragged the bookcase out of the corner. Zoe was flailing. With practiced hands he checked her for bullet wounds. There on her back, he could see where three rounds had flattened into shiny silver circles against the plates of her protective vest. He yanked the closure until he had her free of her armor. She put her fists to her chest and sucked in air. He pulled her into his arms and buried his nose in the warm silkiness of her hair. “I’ve got you, Zoe. You’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he whispered.

  Slowly, Zoe was able to catch her breath. She clung to Gage and every time he said, “I’ve got you,” she seemed to climb a little further out of the place this attack had driven her.

  Titus moved to stand next to the two. “Gage, man, we’ve got to get her moved.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zoe

  They are flies that are born of a wasp

  ~ Indonesian Proverb

  Before Titus could hustle them toward the car, Special Agent Prescott arrived on the scene, lights flashing. He stood beside the century-old magnolia tree, where Gage introduced him to Titus Kane. Titus gave a two sentence overview of the attack.

  “You got here fast,” Gage said.

  “The SOS text system isn’t the best, but it’s working.” It seemed as though the moment the black SUV took off from the side street with its one occupant, Gage’s text went through. Prescott had traced the number and raced to their location, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where he was working. “Are you okay, Zoe?” Prescott asked.