Nightstalker: Red Team book 1

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Nightstalker: Red Team book 1 Page 18

by Edwards, Riley


  I sat up slower than I needed to, keeping up the pretense I was no threat.

  The guard shoved and pushed me down the hallway, trying to get me to move faster. Where was everyone? The guard normally in place on the closed door was gone; the normal chatter I heard through the small house was gone. Fuck, shit, damn, this was not good. As in “I am about to get dead” not good.

  I stopped in the doorway when I saw who was sitting in the lone chair in the room. My blood heated and every muscle in my body coiled ready to fight.

  “The fuck?”

  “Hello Ghost. I see you are still the uncouth, wild animal you always were.”

  “Yeah, that’s me, uncouth. Better to be that than a sell out and a mother fucking traitor. You will bleed for this, asshole. I am going to tear your ass apart.”

  “You’ll be dead, Ghost. Your threats are so meaningless, I couldn’t care less.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Jasmin

  I was pacing again. We were missing it. That one piece of the puzzle that ties everything together. Reports, maps, and pictures were spread out all over the table. Five screens were active with intel, live drone footage of known locations for Sonreír.

  The Director was clean. Eric had picked apart every piece of his life and had to begrudgingly admit it. As much as Eric hated the man, the Director had no involvement. That was both good and bad. He was not the traitor, but we were no closer to finding out who was.

  Timothy Clark was stupid but he covered his tracks and did it well. There was no electronic footprint. As in none. He was also in the wind. Just up and vanished. An analyst with no previous military training did not have the capability to go to ground without help.

  “Garrett, what do we have on the Deputy Director?” I asked

  “Give me a minute to pull up what we have, I am sending it to ViCom screen six. I will need about ten minutes to dig deeper.”

  Garrett’s voice filled the room through the speaker phone. The information that Garrett promised popped up on the screen.

  “What are you thinking Jasmin?” Leo asked.

  “I’m not sure. If the Director is clean, it has to be someone who is high enough in rank to have access to our mission reports. We are given a lot of leeway when we go black. As much as each of us hates to admit it, we still work for the CIA. Even though our pay checks do not come from them, they still pull the strings, handing over the ops that they could not touch.” I stopped to gather my thoughts for a moment, “Who has knowledge of our operations?”

  “Mother Fucker!” That was Garrett, “Mr. President, may I ask you to clear the room of any agents, sir?”

  “Everyone out.” The President barked.

  “Yes, sir, we will be out in the hall.”

  “Tom, you might want to step out of the room as well. Plausible deniability and all that bullshit. You might not want to hear what Garrett has to say if he has asked for a clean room.” Zane was right. My uncle did not need to be involved in this. If it went south he could lose the Presidency and face a congressional hearing. Not good.

  Tom cleared his throat. “I am going to say this once and once only, so listen up boys and listen closely.” My uncle’s voice was low and menacing, “I am an American first. I do not deny shit. I will never back down or cower away from anyone. I am an uncle second. I have Jasmin’s back one hundred percent and by extension all of yours. I am also the God damn President of these here United States and if there is a traitor in my ranks, I will hang him by his balls. I will not have cowardly men under me. End of story. You find me that God damn traitor and eliminate the problem with extreme prejudice. Are we clear?”

  Holy shitballs, my uncle the badass. Who knew? All the men in the room looked at him with a newfound respect. The kind of respect that was normally reserved for only each other. Hell yeah!

  “Crystal, sir.” Zane’s lips twitched, trying to hold back a grin.

  Then the room exploded. There was a flurry of commotion as each man jumped into action, moving reports and maps clearing space on the white board for new intel.

  “Garrett, you are good to go. ViCom one is ready.”

  There where sixteen Visual Communication, ViCom, screens in the room. ViCom one was the largest center screen.

  “Brace, this shit is whacked.” Garrett warned just as the screen filled with an image.

  Sweet Jesus it was the deputy director’s wife and three small children all tied to chairs. The deputy director’s wife looked like she had been worked over. She had a black eye and cut lip, a smiley face burned on her cheek. A newspaper was sitting on her lap, proof of life. This just got worse. Way worse.

  “What in the ever loving fuck? How in the hell does this shit go unnoticed? Mother FUCK!” Zane roared.

  “What is the date on that image?” Leo inquired.

  “Forty six days ago.”

  “The fuck you say, forty six…” Zane trailed off.

  “Affirmative.”

  “Where is the deputy director now?” Jax asked.

  “He filed a travel chit with the director to go to the U.S. Consulate to meet with Mexican General Chavez to discuss weapons trafficking. As of yet he has yet to check in and that was five days ago,” Garrett relayed.

  “No one thought to report that the deputy director of the God damn CIA is MIA?” That was the President. There was a distinct difference between Tom my uncle and Tom the President; he was now in complete control of the room. He pulled his cellphone out of his suit jacket, swiped the screen, and stabbed the buttons of his BlackBerry. After a moment he began to speak. “Get Director Warner on the line. Tell him I need him at the White House immediately, code word firefly. Password of the day: bravo, tango, echo. I repeat, firefly.” He pushed a few more buttons before he slammed the phone down on the desk.

  “What else you got, Garrett?” Zane asked, giving the President a moment to compose himself.

  “Not a whole lot at the moment. I need some time to dig around. I have a few programs running. Unfortunately, Mexico does not have CCTV. Therefore it is making a facial recognition trace difficult.”

  “Copy that, call us back when you have something.”

  A knock came at the door and a voice came over the intercom. “Warren, Charlie niner lima. Password of the day: bravo, tango, echo.”

  The President pushed a button and the door lock disengaged. The Director of the CIA walked in like he didn’t have a fucking care in the world.

  “Mr. President,” he greeted, not bothering to look at the rest of us. He knew that, given a chance, every one of us would slit his throat. Normally his biggest threat was Eric, but today it was me. I was going to get information out of this bastard if I had to beat it out of him.

  “That was fast Warren.” The President had accusation in his tone.

  Maybe it was not me the Director had to worry about after all. It sounded to me like the President was ready to go to blows with Warren.

  “I was in the building; I have a brief with the DOD in thirty minutes.”

  “I see. In the interest of you making your meeting on time, we’ll get down to brass tacks. You want to explain to me why your deputy director has been missing for five days and I was not made aware of it?” the President’s tone was deadly serious.

  “With all due respect sir, if we could clear the room I would be happy to…”

  That was it, I snapped. There was no other explanation for my behavior. The nervous breakdown I know everyone was afraid of came, and when it did I let it all hang out.

  “Shut your God damn mouth with that all due respect bullshit. You respect no one. You’re a lying piece of shit and every single one of us in this room knows it. I do not give the first fuck who you think you are, what title you have in front of your name. Today you are simply Warren and I am Jasmin Parker, your worse fucking nightmare. Now where in the fuck is the deputy director of the CIA?”

  “I think you forget who you are talking to, Jasmin.” Warren stood tall.

 
; “I know exactly who I am talking to, I am talking to the man I am going to gut if he does not start talking. You see we have a little problem here, Warren. My husband has been captured and your deputy director is the one responsible. Now you wanna tell me what the fuck is so broken in your house that you did not know that your deputy director’s family has been kidnapped? And why you are so mother fucking stupid you did not report it when he went MIA?”

  Warren stilled at my words. He did not know the deputy director’s family had been taken. “I don’t like your tone of voice young lady and I certainly do not take kindly to your threats. I will have you in cuffs by the end of this meeting.”

  “By the end of this meeting Jasmin Parker might be the least of your worries. I will have your ass in rendition so fast, so buried in a foreign country you’ll never be found.” The President held the director’s eyes and spoke very slowly. “Now, you have precisely sixty seconds to save your life Warren. You can kiss your job goodbye. You are relieved of those duties effective immediately.”

  “I will not be led around by a bunch of blowhards threating my life.”

  Wrong answer. Each member of the team took a step forward while the President took a step back.

  “And I will not be led around by my dick! You think what happened to the deputy director cannot happen to you. You are wrong. It can happen in a flash. Now, I know you are not stupid. You know how this all will play out. Save yourself like you always do, and tell us what you know.”

  Fear flashed in the Director’s eyes as the President’s words registered. “Deputy Director Banning came to me seven days ago and filled a travel itinerary to meet with General Chavez. No red flags were raised; we had been in talks with him. When Banning did not check in I had my secretary call the Consulate. He was a no show. I immediately put a team together to find him. It was unclear if this was a hostage situation. This would not be the first time a US official has been kidnapped. We have protocol put into place for exactly this.”

  “Yes we do, and part of that protocol is to notify ME!” The President roared.

  Warren ignored him and continued. “My team has found nothing. A little over two months ago Banning told me his wife and children were leaving on a missionary trip with their church and would be gone for some time. Again I did not question it, it did not happen often, but it was not unusual for his family to do missionary work. That is all I know. I will call my secretary and ask her to send over the files. Operation code name: nemesis. Password to extract the file is: 92156741 echo Charlie.”

  Oh shit, Warren just gave away more than he probably intended. Zane was about to go thermonuclear, “The fuck you say? Nemesis? You knew Sonreír had Banning.”

  “I had my suspicions, yes.”

  “Yet you decided not to share, you slimy little cocksucker. For what? So you could one up me? Prove you have bigger balls?” Warren had the decency to look contrite. “If my brother dies, this is on you. There will not be a corner far away enough for you to hide. You will live out the rest of your life knowing that I am watching you just waiting to end your miserable life.”

  “Fuck you, Zane, you and your boys traipse around like you are God damn Rambo’s, thinking you are above the law and chain of command. Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, son.”

  Oh hell, this asshole did not know when to keep his mouth shut.

  “Did this mother fucker just call me son? I take it back; you will not live your life knowing the threat. I will simply end you.”

  The secured line rang and Eric hit the button to connect the call.

  “Be advised Warren is in the room.” Eric called out before Garrett could speak.

  “Then remove him now.”

  Leo walked to the door scanning his badge to open the door, two secret service agents stood at the door awaiting orders.

  “Please take Mr. Warren to the basement. Call in my personal security to sit on him until Blue team arrives. They will be en route within minutes they will handle him from there. Duct tape this assholes mouth if he gives you any trouble, he is to be treated as a traitor.” The President’s voice was as harsh as his words.

  The agents showed no emotion as they flanked Warren, grabbing him by his upper arms to escort him to the basement.

  “Room’s clear.”

  “ViCom one, this is drone footage from ten minutes ago. Banning has been spotted at a known Sonreír location.”

  “Wheels up in ten,” the President bellowed.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Lincoln

  “You’ll be dead, Ghost, your threats are so meaningless I couldn’t care less.”

  Now that was some false bravado right there.

  “So, Banning, how much did they offer you to sell out your country? Your President? Remember him, the man you swore your allegiance to?”

  Panic moved over his face. Ah, this was personal. Nothing to do with money. Good to know. I recalled every detail I knew about his life, a wife and three young children. Good, church going family. On the outside anyway. Who the hell knows what goes on behind closed doors? I used to respect this man. This was the last man I thought I would see working with a scum bag. Now we needed to see just how far he was willing to take this.

  “Just tell them what they want to know. There is no need to drag this out any further.”

  “Go fuck yourself!”

  Panic, not anger. He needed me to talk. Sonreír had something over him. What would make a man sell out his own country? Family. The love of a good woman and children. Shit.

  “Ghost, the game is over. You’ve lost. Now make it easier on yourself and tell them what they want to know.”

  He was practically begging me. Yeah they had his family. A man that is any man at all would not beg for his own life, but he would beg for his children.

  I was going to have to let this man’s family die. Cold? Yes. Heartless? Maybe. I would not, however, sell out my country to save this sniveling man’s anything. Shit luck on his part really.

  “I would rather die a thousand deaths then sell out. I will take everything I know to my grave. You should be trying to figure out how to save yourself and the lives of your family rather than worrying how painful my death will be. You see, you are useless now. Bringing you here to sit in front of me was simply a show of power. Sonreír wants me to see how far his reach is. That he can kidnap the deputy director’s family, manipulate that man into turning against his allegiances, all so he can kill you right in front of me.”

  The deputy director paled, his grave situation hitting him like a Mack truck. I did feel sorry for the man, one human to another.

  “Bravo, Bravo!” Sonreír, the man himself, sauntered into the room. “I knew you were smart, very worthy. I knew I would not have to explain to you my reasons for playing with this little piss ant. He was no match for me, boring really. So stupid he continued to play along even after his family was disposed of. Stupid man, never even tried to verify if they were still alive. Tsk, tsk.”

  The deputy director was about to crumble. Perfect, I needed a diversion. As if on my command the deputy director threw the chair at Sonreír, who easily moved out of the way. Before it hit him, the two guards in the room lunged towards Banning, giving me the shot I needed at Sonreír.

  The splintered pieces of the broken chair lay within my reach. Grabbing a piece of the broken leg I used all of my weight and swung the leg like a bat, hitting Sonreír in the side of the head. A blow strong enough to knock him out, but not kill him. Perfect. I had some of my own brand of torture to inflict before I killed this mother fucker. The two guards dismissed Banning and turned their attention to me. Pulling Sonreír’s side arm from his holster I took my first shot and watched guard number one’s head explode. Brain matter and blood sprayed all over Banning as the guard’s body crumpled. Guard number two had pulled the deputy director’s body in front of him as a shield. As if that would stop me. I could give two shits about that asshole right now.

  “Don’t move or
I will blow his head off,” guard number two shouted.

  Again, as if I gave two shits.

  “Just shoot him, I am dead anyway,” Banning whispered, already giving up. What a pussy!

  “You think I’d give a fuck if you shot him? He is a traitor.”

  I did not have time to play these games. Yesterday there were three guards if the third was still in the house he would’ve heard the gunshot.

  Fuck talking, without another word I took my shot. Perfectly placed. Right in the forehead. One and done as my brother would say. The spray of blood hit Banning as guard number two collapsed. I watched in rapt fascination as the deputy director puked all over the dead guard. See? Just like I said, a pussy.

  The sound of incoming helicopters filled the room as guard number three popped around the doorframe and started to spray the room with bullets. I didn’t have time to warn Banning to get down. His body was already convulsing as a spray of bullets almost cut him in half. Before I could take a shot, guard number three’s body jerked. Then he was falling. A double tap to the face.

  That could only mean one thing.

  I could hear the sound of windows breaking, and doors being kicked in. The room filled with men dressed in black. But I knew one of them was a woman. My woman. My warrior princess.

  “What the fuck took you so long?” I wheezed out.

  The adrenaline was quickly waning and the pain was coming back full force.

  “God damn, Ghost. We came to rescue you, but it looks like you had all the fun,” Leo laughed.

  “Don’t worry I left one for you.”

  I kicked Sonreír in the gut and he moaned.

  “He is mine.”

  I heard a familiar voice from behind a facemask. I am pretty sure my jaw hit the floor when the President pulled his mask up and stalked towards Sonreír.

  The President knelt down by Sonreír’s body grabbing a handful of hair he yanked his head back, “Who else?”

  “Fuck you.”

  The President yanked harder, “Who else in my government is a traitor?”

 

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