SEAL's Rescue

by Sharon Hamilton

  Sven cocked his head and looked across the room at Kelly, who didn’t return his gaze. “I contacted him and told him I thought I could lead a team to rescue her. He didn’t know me from Adam, and I’m sure he didn’t trust me, either, so I flew out to Oregon and had a sit down. And he introduced me to Kelly, who happens—and this is the part you guys didn’t know until now—to be his daughter-in-law. Kelly was married to Jenna’s brother, the old man’s son.”

  The swearing would have been stronger if there hadn’t been a lady present, even though Kelly was part of the source of irritation.

  Kelly interrupted Sven’s story. “Jack died nearly two years ago while I was finishing my State Department specialty training. Prior to that, Jack and I had worked lower level jobs in Africa together for State and other departments. It’s how we met. Jenna heard the stories and always wanted to go there. My qualifications still stand and are true. But you didn’t know that Jenna is related to me by marriage. And I feel very responsible for her capture and demise. My father-in-law is a very rich and powerful man who wants to save the only child he has left.”

  “We have a say here, Chief?” asked Coop.

  “You can try. I’m not sure what good it does,” answered Kyle.

  “We’re kind of fucked,” whispered Armando.

  “But I will say this. If any of you want to abort, I’m not going to stand in your way. I owe it to you, though the Navy would think otherwise. You were brought here under false pretenses, and I didn’t want you to think I did it. You gotta trust me. But most important is the question of do you trust these two?” Kyle added, pointing to Sven and Kelly.

  “What about the Headshed?” Tyler asked.

  Kyle stood up and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Well, I received the go, and told them we’re going silent for twenty-four hours. I could just not call them. They’re not expecting to hear from me until tomorrow morning, and with good news, too. We have no backup, so nothing had to be coordinated.”

  Tucker and everyone in the room knew it was a career-ending decision.

  “Not fair you taking that risk, Kyle. I don’t like it,” said Coop.

  Armando agreed. “Something goes wrong, maybe we all get tossed, but this will come down on you hardest. I don’t like it either, Kyle.”

  Kyle smiled back at two of his oldest friends on the team. “Then we don’t screw up.”

  That generated another level of swearing in several languages. Over the next few minutes, everyone had their say. Some spoke to themselves. Some spoke to the person sitting next to them or to the room. But by the end of the few minutes, the decision had been made, and everyone was on board as a team. This was how the boardroom of a spec ops team functioned.

  The mission remained a go.

  Sven and Kelly took over the discussion, showing floorplans of the house and the position of the posted guards and what kinds of firepower they were carrying. They detailed the security cameras and electric perimeter fencing.

  The good news was that even though the Dutch billionaire had spent a lot of money on security, there were huge gaps in his coverage and safety precautions. The bulk of his protection was his reliance on the men he hired. Tucker knew that any one SEAL on the team was worth at least twenty of them, so the odds outweighed the bad guys significantly.

  Tucker asked another question of Kelly. “What kind of mindset will she be in? Did you see her or observe her condition at all?”

  Kelly took a deep inhale. “Yes, she’s being chained to a bedframe in the bedroom. She doesn’t have the freedom to roam the house. She gets to shower, use the bathroom, but she doesn’t go anywhere outside the bedroom. And,”—Kelly’s breath hitched—“he beats her. I think he’s given her drugs too. Other than the obvious sexual abuse, which must be horrible, I think she’s physically fine. But the sex, judging from how she looks, is nowhere near consensual.”

  Several of the team guys swore. People who abused women were always at the top of their kill list.

  “We both thought, based on how Mr. VanValle was acting, he was going to tire of her very soon. She’s a mess, really. We need to tell it like it is, Kelly.”

  “Of course,” she whispered back.

  “But she’s strong enough? I mean, she can walk, run on her own?” asked Coop.

  Kelly and Sven nodded.

  “Part of the reason I didn’t want you to abort this mission is, well, I don’t think she has much time left. She has no value to him.” Sven again surveyed the room. It generated lots of head nodding. Her life expectancy was short. They all understood this.

  Kyle re-traced what their positions would be. He ordered his snipers, Armando and Jameson, to find a good vantage point to cover the front door and the vehicles. Fredo would pass out Invisios. The whole team was ordered to carry everything they brought, since there might not be the chance to come back to the villa. Kyle showed them the best escape route by road and a secondary road, if they had to hike out, where they could get somewhere and commandeer a vehicle, if necessary.

  “We got about five hours until it’s dark. I recommend everyone do a power rest. Change your clothes, re-pack your bags, and check your equipment.” Kyle’s command was well heeded.

  Kyle divided the men into two groups for transport to the Dutchman’s house and then hopefully beyond. Their villa came with a ten-passenger Opel van, and a larger Jeep SUV, so there would be plenty of room. Sven volunteered to load up the vehicles with waters and things from the house they might need during the stakeout while everyone else rested and prepared.

  Tucker went upstairs, set his alarm and was going to take a quick nap. He got out his journal to write a few sentences to Brandy.

  Not exactly what I was expecting this time around, but then I’m supposed to handle anything that’s thrown at me. Good news is I doubt we’ll be here longer than an overnight and that makes me real happy.

  I hate sleeping during daylight hours, but I’ll be working at night, so that’s just how it goes.

  Learned some things about family dynamics I don’t ever want to see in our family. It’s like there’s us and then the rest of the planet. We’re here to fix a mistake we didn’t make. That’s always the job, though. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get information on the operation we’re fighting so the next group can go further with the cleanup.

  The islands are a mixture of cultures, not unlike Africa. But this place is part of Spain, and though it’s close, it doesn’t feel like Africa at all. The buildings are colorful, like the Caribbean, but they use more rock and stone, and many of their streets are cobblestone. Lots of churches tolling all day long. It seems a little more prosperous and not as many inhabitants.

  We’re up high where it’s cooler, and if I concentrate, I can smell the saltwater way down below. Where we’re staying, the homes are for wealthy world travelers or vacation rentals for the jet-setting crowd. We have two nearly new vans, more bathrooms than bedrooms, and a refrigerator the guys are going to regret they won’t even begin to tackle.

  I miss Brawley. Doesn’t seem like a mission without him. My thoughts are with all of you. Tell my son (I know you think it’s a girl, but I don’t) to be nice to his mama and to let you sleep. Hope Jessica is behaving. I owe you all a nice, long walk on the beach when I get home. That’s what I’m going to think about while I turn in for a bit.

  Then it’s showtime.

  Love you more each day, Brandy.

  Right on time, Tucker was awakened and was ready to go in minutes. He double-checked his bedroom and bath for anything he’d forgotten.

  Downstairs, the group stocked up on food from the refrigerator. There were energy drinks on the counter, along with granola bars and peanuts. Tucker grabbed what he could, stashing things here and there in the pockets he’d fashioned.

  He piled into the Opel with Kyle, Armando, and several others. Sven and Kelly rode in the Jeep with Jake, Tyler, and DeWayne.

  They passed the house as they had coming up the twisting r
oad, driving farther down to a wide driveway with a metal electric fence from a neighboring house behind the shoulder. They listened for traffic and heard none. Quietly, they grabbed their duty bags and exited the vehicles, staying to the sides of the road in the shadows. As they approached the compound, Armando and Jameson split off to position themselves on two carport rooftops that would give perfect vantage.

  The rest of the team advanced, splitting up into groups as planned. Kelly and DeWayne were to get closest to the house to listen and check on Jenna’s condition, so Tucker and Kyle helped her up into a tree that hovered over the wall so she could climb down. Huggles followed behind.

  They split up into two groups on either side of the large gate entrance. Two guards smoked cigarettes and engaged in whispered small talk. Silently, the two groups scaled the outer walls, carefully cutting the razor wire installed at the top, and dropped into the compound yard. A dog barked, which made them freeze. Coop threw a small rock in the opposite direction, away from the house, which distracted the dog. They heard voices coming to check, two flashlights sending beams through the cactus and other exotic plants in the yard. Tucker’s group lay flat on the ground until the lights were turned off and the dog lost interest.

  The tiny squawk in Tucker’s ear told him Armando and Jameson were in place. Kelly whispered she had a visual on Jenna, who was sleeping. Alone.

  Huggles confirmed the location of the Dutchman in the house, watching TV in the living room. “He’s got a big dog with him, dammit,” Huggles whispered.

  “I got Dutchie. Jameson’s got the dog,” Armando confirmed over the Invisio.

  Kyle gave the instructions. “On three, two, one.”

  Tucker quickly disabled one of the sentries, while T.J. did the other, tossing their semi-automatics into the bushes. Two high-pitched bursts tore through the night as the man with the flashlight fell next to the patrol dog, who had also been hit.

  “Sentries secure,” said T.J.

  Tucker heard several other comments, and then Kyle gave the perimeter secure call.

  They were expecting an additional four men on the inside, but Tucker could only count two. DeWayne responded that two bodies were sleeping in a bedroom off the back.

  “And Jenna?” asked Kyle.

  “Still asleep. She’s alone,” answered Kelly.

  Cooper indicated he’d dismantled the sliding glass door lock on her bedroom. Fredo had picked the front door.

  Again, the count from Kyle, “Three, two, one, go!”

  The whine from Armando and Jameson’s long guns was followed by the tinkling of a glass window being breached. It gave VanValle just enough time to look up as his forehead exploded. Simultaneously, the dog, sleeping down at his feet, was hit without waking up. The team entered the house from all sides. Tyler and Coop disabled the two sleeping men. The two who sat at the dining room table stood with their hands up when they saw their employer and the dog die in a burst of red spray. Their wrists and ankles were secured, and their heads were covered with two bloodied pillowcases from their teammate’s bedroom.

  Kyle’s team had managed to breach the house then disable or kill everyone without a single shout out or sound of a weapon firing. All Tucker could hear as various rooms in the home were declared clear was the whimpering coming from the back bedroom. Jenna was sobbing uncontrollably. As Tucker approached, he saw Kelly take out a pair of jeans and sweatshirt and tennis shoes and hurriedly got her dressed.

  Jenna’s lip was split and she had a black eye. It made him want to throw up.

  Kyle instructed them to look for cell phones, any laptops they could take. Six were found and zippered into duty bags. On the table were some papers, and all of them were confiscated. Pictures of the bodies were taken, including the two dogs that unfortunately had to be sacrificed. Kyle gave the message for the shooters to come in with the all clear.

  Just as quietly as they arrived, the team left, this time using the main gate entrance. They left the TV on, as well as all the house lights. They ran back down the road by starlight to their vehicles and waited for Armando and Jameson to catch up. Then they were on their way.

  The whole operation had taken no more than ten minutes. With any luck, they’d be at the airport in three hours and back on that nice jet, perhaps drinking champagne, before daylight.

  Tucker monitored himself and discovered his blood pressure hadn’t risen more than a few clicks. It was just like the old days. The job was done. The only thing he focused on now was getting home.

  Chapter 12

  The cheerful desk receptionist inappropriately smiled and asked them how their day was going. Brawley couldn’t resist.

  “Fucked.”

  The young brunette fluttered her eyelids several times and then responded with, “I’m sorry to hear that.” She clicked a few keystrokes and then regrouped, adding, “Now I’ll need your driver’s license and one form of payment for incidentals.”

  Brawley didn’t quibble or ask to make sure the Navy was picking up the tab. He just gave the young girl what she wanted.

  Still holding the sleeping Jessica, Brandy noted all the places in the lobby where someone could hide and not be detected. She looked for anyone who had more than a passing interest in them and found none.

  The smile was still plastered on the desk clerk’s face as she directed them to the elevator and asked if they needed help with their luggage. Brandy guessed she received a “special” look from Brawley, because the young girl stepped back from the counter and then just watched as they scampered toward the tower elevator.

  Dorie struggled with one suitcase and a duty bag. Brawley had the heavy one with the guns and two others strapped across his chest and could easily outrun them all. Brandy was able to tow her wheeling suitcase without problem, but Jessica was getting very heavy. The elevator dropped them at the fourteenth floor.

  Two rooms had been provided, which connected. Brandy lay Jessica down on her bed and instructed Brawley and Dorie to take the other room for privacy.

  Brawley made sure Dorie got off her feet. Her skin was pale and a bit clammy.

  “She doesn’t look too good, Brawley.”

  “I know it. I think I should get some food. She missed dinner.”

  “Let me order something. Maybe some soup, a sandwich or something. You want anything?”

  He shook his head. “Go ahead. I’m going to see if Collins has anything yet. And I’ll tell Christy where we are and let her know we got out without incident.”

  “You owe me an explanation. You know that, don’t you?” Brandy wasn’t going to let Brawley off the hook until she was given as many details as he could give.

  “Make the room service call. I’ll get done with Collins and Christy, and we’ll talk.”

  Several minutes after the food was delivered, Brawley closed the adjoining door behind him and took up a seat at the desk in Brandy’s room. Jessica was snoring soundly. The two of them shared some potato wedges and two bowls of hearty soup.

  “She didn’t want anything, but I left it by her bed. I think she just needed water,” he whispered.

  “Good.” Brandy waited for him to fulfill his promise.

  “Last time over, we were to check on groups that do human trafficking and run drugs and guns. We were just there to get information and set up a base camp so we could go back and forth for a bigger operation to be done at a later date. But what happened was that we ran into a small militia group who had already ambushed a team of aid workers trying to give vaccinations and medical treatment to the villagers and several schools. They’re international aid workers, partly sponsored by the U.N.”

  “Okay.”

  “So our safe house got compromised, and we became a rescue operation. We were able to free three medics and two females, one of whom was a doctor who gave aid to a dying rebel soldier. The kid didn’t make it, after she had to do an emergency amputation to try to save his life. They blamed the doctor and cut off her hand.”

  Brandy’s s
tomach lurched and she had to work to keep its contents down.

  “Someone who knows about that mission sent the doll, I’m convinced. Collins thinks so too. They’re inspecting it now, but we didn’t have any chatter or warning that something like this was being planned. But it clearly is an attack on Tucker, through you.”

  “Is Tucker safe, then?”

  “Well, they’re not in Africa now, so I assume so. But now I’m not sure what information they have. If they know you’re alone, then they know something.”

  Brandy checked her phone with no result. “If I could just talk to him.”

  “Believe me, the SOF Command is trying to get hold of Kyle.”

  “How did they know where we lived? How could that be? It’s not like he wears his uniform everywhere. I mean, does this mean that someone has been following us? Could they be following me?”

  Brawley stared back at her, his lips in a straight line, no expression to his eyes. He was masking. She knew it well. Brandy looked away.

  “Honestly, some days I feel like we should be housing families on base, for protection, like they do outside the U.S. But these are different times, and the enemy is getting resourceful.”

  “Has this happened before?”

  “Here and there. More like incidents with locals who had some kind of an axe to grind. That’s why we ask all the families to be careful. It’s also why I never go anywhere unless I’m armed. None of us do.”

  Brawley’s cell rang. “Christy must have gotten my message.” He put the phone to his ear. “We’re safe. Haven’t heard anything yet. How about you?”

  He listened. Brandy wasn’t able to make out Christy’s words.

  “I promise you’ll be the first to know, Christy. I’d get the kids ready, just in case. Just put a couple days of clothes together if they ask you to leave.”

  The phone call was brief. Brandy planned to call her later, after she’d had a good night’s sleep. Right now, buying a house was just not high on her list of priorities. Keeping everyone that she loved safe was.