“We’re not finished yet, let’s see how many you might have. It’s possible there’s more than one—it’s what I would have done—just in case one failed. Mark that spot, Daxon.” Daxon moved her shirt aside and marked the spot with a yellow marker.
Lynch continued to hold the wand one inch above every part of her body, stopped when a second beep went off above her right hip. “There’s number two. Mark it.”
When the rest of the scan revealed no more chips, Lynch looked expectantly at Ivy. “Okay, Ivy, Blake and Daxon will remove the chips. Under normal circumstances, you would be put under for this procedure, but in light of our time constraints, they’ll use local anesthetic. You understand?”
“I can handle it, let’s just get them out.”
* * *
Blake walked into Del’s office. As the local Sheriff, the team felt they should fill him in on what may transpire near his town over the next few hours. Rick Zoeller, a local detective was sitting in his office, too.
“Blake, to what do I owe this honor of this house call?” Del joked with his old friend.
“Del, Rick,” Blake acknowledged.
“I can leave you two alone,” Rick offered, the serious look on Blake’s face a heads up that this was not a courtesy call.
“There’s no need to leave, Rick. It might be best if both of you hear this.”
Del stood to close the door to his office. “Sit down, Blake, we’re all ears.”
Neither man said a word apart from inserting a question here or there until Blake was done. “I’m sorry, Del. I know this request is asking for the moon and then some, but this is going down whether we want it to or not. Timhailov is probably on the doorstep of Burnt River as we speak.”
“I won’t lie, Blake,” Del shook his head in wonder. “I didn’t expect my tenure as Sheriff of Burnt River to be quite as exciting as it has proven to be thus far, but it appears it will be my lot regardless of my expectations. Now what can we do to ensure this goes off without a hitch, while keeping my people safe?”
There was no time to express his gratitude—that would hopefully come later—but Blake couldn’t help but feel his chest swell with pride at the goodness and quality of people his beloved town seemed to attract.
Blake gave them the address of the temporary operational outpost BRG had set up, just outside Burnt River’s boundary. It was hidden from view under a small grouping of trees. “Meet us there in one hour.”
Chapter 15
Ivy ignored the soreness in her shoulder and hip, it was a small price to pay for freedom. She seethed with anger at the violation she had experienced at the hands of Timhailov, and used that anger to hone her focus.
“You just went off-grid, Ivy. There’s no way for them to track you any longer now that the chips are inside this box. It’s lined with lead, and the signal is now dead.” Lynch informed her.
“Will they think I’m dead?”
“No, in fact, it will probably cause them to hasten their search. The only way the signal would stop is if you submerged in deep water, burned, or were inside an airplane or building that would be thick enough to prevent the signal from getting through—or if the chips were found. In light of the fact that no one found them for more than a year, they will think it’s unlikely that it has been found now, but they know the general vicinity you’re in and there’s no doubt that there close. Their biggest worry will be that you’ve left the area.”
“Oh, I know they are close,” she affirmed.
Lynch looked at her curiously, but simply nodded.
Ted McKnight joined in, “We’ll use this to our advantage,” he announced to the group. We’ll remove the chips from the box when we’re ready to lure them to our designated location. Once it’s in play, we’ll have operational silence—these guys are good and this chip technology is the best of the best. If they’ve got these, they likely have listening equipment that would pick up on any radio frequency.
“Wren, you have cameras and triggers in place at the site, correct?” McKnight asked.
“Yes, sir. Everything is in place.”
“Ivy,” McKnight, who always appeared to be stone serious, turned his high-powered glare toward her, “we’re gong to use Wren as the decoy.”
She opened her mouth in protest, but his glare stopped her.
“You’re not in any condition to be operational, and I won’t jeopardize my team or the people her with someone in less-than-optimal condition. You and Wren are of similar height and build, and her hair is brown, which is what they will expect. Am I clear?”
She swallowed. “Yes, sir, you are, but it’s me they are after. With all due respect, it should be me out there, not an innocent. I’m not implying that you’re not very good at what you do, Wren,” she assured the woman to her right, “but if they suspect foul play, we’ll lose them. I’m not willing to risk that, and a sore shoulder and hip will not impact my ability to perform. Sir.”
She resisted the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, meeting him head on, unswerving. She continued on in the midst of his silence. “I have changed my hair color in the past—that’s not going to fool them. It’s the way I move, my mannerisms, my voice—they know it and I don’t think Wren will be able to fool them, even if she is the best of the best.”
Daxon wanted to protest, but none of them could deny the logic behind her reasoning.
John Hopkins, CEO of BRG weighed in next. “It’s your call, Daxon. You performed the chip removal, do you think she’s compromised?”
Ivy whirled on her heels to face Dax, her eyes ablaze.
He desperately wanted to keep her here in Aqua’s house where she would be safe, but he knew that wasn’t fair to Ivy; knew she needed closure that sometimes only comes from facing our demons head on.
He ignored her and turned to Hopkins. “I can numb the sites of removal just enough to provide comfort without hindering her operationally. It will wear off over the course of an hour or so, but if we do this right, this should be wrapped up before that.”
Ivy couldn’t hide her surprise. The moment Hopkins involved Daxon in the decision; she’d felt sure he would protect her at all cost. The fact that he believed her capable—meant the world.
“McKnight, how will this change protocol?” Hopkins demanded.
“It remains the same, sir. We’ll have both women together on horseback. No offense, girls, but these guys will not be deterred by two women versus one. They’ll still consider it a piece of cake.”
Wren watched the exchange with amusement—it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to be directly involved in an op—but that wasn’t what mattered to her, she just wanted to do her job and do it well. In the few months she’d been working with BRG Security, she’d come to respect these men like no other she’d ever known. They were the best of the best, and she felt immense pride at being part of their team. She would do anything for them, and knew they had her back. She had no doubt that this Russian mobster was no match for BRG.
“Wren?” Hopkins asked.
“Sir? I’ll do whatever you think is best, sir.”
“Alright then. Daxon, numb the sites. Wren, double-check the tech in the field. McKnight, call your guy and let’s see if we can get the most recent Intel on Timhailov’s current location, and connect with the Sheriff and his men to ensure we are all on the same page. I’m sure they’re good, but they are not SEALS. I don’t want any mistakes, and I want the message that they are to stay in the background on this—for plausible deniability—loud and clear. Lynch, get those chips to location and ready. Any questions?”
“No, sir.” Echoed strong and true.
“Let’s get Operation Blue Sky under way.”
Chapter 16
Watching Ivy ride away with Wren was excruciating and Daxon said a quick prayer as he watched them head toward the hills. From a distance, the woman looked very similar and Daxon could understand why McKnight had believed Wren could stand in for Ivy—maybe they should have let her, he
worried.
Lynch had decided that Ivy should have a chip with her in order to prevent suspicions if the Russians got close enough to detect that the chip was located near her but not on her. There was no room for error, but that also meant that rather than controlling the location the Russians would search and find, there was a possibility they would arrive at a less-than-optimal moment. That was a risk Ivy was willing to take, and Wren seemed to have complete confidence that it wasn’t a problem either way.
Del had provided horses that would not be spooked if gunshots were fired, another factor in ensuring the women were as safe as possible. Their intelligence led them to believe that Timhailov would try to recapture Ivy, yet if he determined that was not possible, there was no doubt that he would kill her instead.
Lynch provided both women with the best and latest body armor; so good that it was completely undetectable under their clothing, even the baseball caps they wore contained it, resulting in the best possible protection under the circumstances.
Daxon was impressed with BRG, and for the first time considered entertaining the possibility of joining Hopkins’ team, if things didn’t turn out the way he hoped they would in Burnt River. He’d turned Hopkins down five times, but a man like Hopkins didn’t give up—ever. Daxon knew the offer was open, if he wanted it.
All they could do now was watch and wait. McKnight signaled that the satellite feed was now operational, another benefit of the contacts RGB could sequester, almost on demand. It added another layer of security for the women, now exposed as they rode along a semi-secluded trail, gradually moving them closer to the ops post.
Rick Zoeller sat with McKnight, scouring the satellite feed, looking for anything that moved or indicated that the Russians were within striking distance. The fact that there was nothing worried McKnight. Something was off—and he didn’t know what.
It was the whirring of the helicopter blades that first signaled that somehow they had gotten it wrong—very wrong.
Ivy heard it, too, and she signaled to Wren, pointing toward the sky and spurring their horses into a full-out gallop. Wren’s horse shied sideways and she barely stayed on the horse, urging him to stay the course and follow the lead horse. Ivy’s horse was faster, and responsive, he galloped as though his life depended on it and she urged him on with her knees.
A shot rang out and Ivy looked back to see Wren topple from her horse—Wren’s horse veered off to the right, spooked. Ivy slowed her horse to turn him around, but the helicopter swooped in, stirring up the dust and she couldn’t see or tell which direction Wren had fallen, but she knew the guys had her back and so she whispered to her horse and stuck her feet into his stomach. He reared up, but she hung on and then he took off like a shot. Ivy couldn’t see the ground beneath her but prayed her horse knew the trail as he raced, sure footed, as though hell itself were after them. They had to be getting close to the ops center, she knew, especially at this speed. A shot rang out near her and she pulled the reigns to the right, moving her horse toward the trees, toward safety. It was then that she heard machine gun fire, and realized the guys were trying to take the helicopter down. Urging her horse on, asking him to give it everything he had, she pulled the reigns hard-left, as far away from the helicopter as they could get before it hopefully crashed into the ground.
When Timhailov’s men realized what was happening, they tried to pull the helicopter up quickly but the pilot was no match for the accuracy of the SEALS’ bullets—they pummeled the helicopter, hitting the back blade, the top blade, and once they were sure Ivy was far enough way, the gas tank. The helicopter exploded in air, a burning ball of smoke, and crashed to the ground seconds later.
Ivy’s horse threw her and took off, running in the opposite direction, but she had enough time as she sailed into the air to position herself into a roll, hoping that she could break the fall enough to prevent significant injury. For a split second she called out for Daxon, felt her body meet the ground, roll, and then everything went blissfully dark.
* * *
Beep, beep, beep. The sound annoyed her, but it wouldn’t go away. She heard her name, faintly—that voice it sounded so familiar but before she could figure it out, the darkness claimed her again.
She heard voices, snippets of conversation:
“Wren just came out of surgery, the doc says she’s going to...”
“Scans of the helicopter show three men plus the pilot…”
“Del said they found Wren’s horse…”
“Ivy, Ivy, wake up…” But who was Ivy? Her head hurt, she couldn’t quite open her eyes, despite being urged to do so.
* * *
“Daxon, you need to get some rest. I’ll stay with her.”
That voice, it sounded so familiar.
“I insist, at least go to the cafeteria to get some food. You’ll do her no good if you make yourself ill, too. Now go,” the familiar voice insisted.
“Alright, Aqua, you win. I’ll be back in 10.”
Aqua—she knew that name, Aqua was her friend. She felt someone take her hand, and took a deep breath. It hurt to breathe.
“Hey,” she heard the familiar voice, her friend, Aqua. “Sleepyhead, don’t you think it’s time to wake up?”
She smiled. “Oh my God! Ivy, you’re awake!”
Ivy? Who was Ivy? She opened her eyes slowly, the lights were so bright. “The lights…” she managed.
“Just a sec, I’ll turn them off,” Aqua offered, then returned to her friend’s bedside. “Hey you. Welcome back.”
Aqua squeezed her hand and Ivy squeezed it back in return. “Wait, wait, don’t close your eyes.”
“Tired,” Ivy managed.
“I know you are, but I need you to stay with me, can you do that?”
Ivy tried to nod, but it hurt.
“My head…”
“Yes, you took a pretty hard fall. Do you remember?”
“The horse...”
“Yes, yes! You feel off the horse. That’s right, Ivy.”
“Ivy?”
“Yes, Ivy. We changed your name, remember?”
“Timhailov?”
“We got him, we got him,” Aqua’s voice shook with tears, and Ivy squeezed her hand.
“We got him?” a tear coursed down Ivy’s cheek. “We got him,” she repeated as she closed her eyes, claimed by blissful sleep once more.
* * *
This time the voices were insistent. “Ivy, Ivy wake up. Wake up for me.” Someone opened her eye and shined a light in it.
“Don’t.” she whined
“Then open your eyes,” they demanded.
“Go.”
“Not until you open your eyes”, they insisted.
That voice, she knew that voice.
“Daxon, don’t be a bully.”
Aqua, Aqua was here. Daxon.
“Lights.”
“I’ll get them, Ivy. There they’re off now. You can open your eyes,” Aqua encouraged her friend.
“Dax?”
“I’m right here, babe. I’m right here,” he squeezed her hand. She smiled.
“Can you open your eyes for me?”
She turned her head, grimacing from the pain shooting into her head.
“No.”
“Yes, you can. You can, stay with me babe. I want to see you.”
She opened one eye then the other. “Go to the same side,” she insisted.
They complied. Aqua had tears streaming down her cheeks. “Don’t cry,” Ivy insisted. “I’m okay.”
“You’re better than okay,” Aqua sniffled. “Do you have any idea how you scared me?”
“How long have I been out?”
“Three days.”
“Three days?” She closed her eyes.
“Ivy, stay with me,” Daxon insisted.
“I’m here.”
“Show me,” his voice demanding, not taking no for an answer.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you can be obnoxious?” she asked, granting his requ
est.
He laughed and joy filled his worry-worn face, “I’m not sure it’s advisable for me to admit that one.”
She smiled back. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she managed as she squeezed his hand and looked around at monitors and equipment, then the IV in her hand. “When can I go home?”
“You’re incredible, you know that don’t you? You’ve been out for three days, just woke up, and you want to go home?” Aqua repeated.
“Yes, I hate hospitals. I have a doctor,” she looked at Daxon, ”you have a doctor,” Aqua’s eyebrow raised at Daxon, the woman had a point, “and hospitals make me sick, so I can’t stay here. Take me home.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll get the doctor—“
“But we have one, no, two,” Ivy insisted.
“Yes, we do,” Aqua chuckled, “but we still need the hospital doctor to agree to release you.”
Ivy tried to sit up, Daxon tried to gently push her back down, but she gave him a nasty glare. “Hands off. Do you want to be my doctor, or not?” she scowled as she pushed up on her elbows, pushing past the pain, determined.
“Well, what do we have here? Hi, Ivy, I’m Doctor Isakson.”
“Hello,” she offered. “I’d like to be discharged, please.”
“That’s what I heard, let’s see what I can do,” he appeased as he took his flashlight from his pocket, checking her eyes. “Equal and reactive.”
“Doctor Jones, your thoughts?”
“Well, she’s a difficult patient, doctor.”
“I’m sitting right here,” she insisted. “My head?”
“You had a concussion, Ivy, and you’ve been mostly in and out of consciousness for the last three days. Although Daxon and Blake are more than capable of taking care of you, it’s advisable for you to stay here at least one more day and let’s make sure there are no complications, shall we?”
“No, I’m ready to go. I’ll do whatever you say, but if there are no broken bones, I’d prefer to go home.”
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