Renegade: Special Tactical Units Devision (STUD) Book 3

by Sandra Marton

  Not this time.

  Black left them standing at attention.

  It was impossible not to notice that half a dozen metal folding chairs were lined up before the desk.

  They were lined up with precision, and, Dec knew, with intent.

  This would not be a comfortable meeting.

  Black was seated behind his desk, riffling through a stack of papers. Everything about him whispered command, from his neatly cropped greying hair to his crisp uniform.

  Seconds, then minutes slid by before he looked up.

  His expression was grim.

  “Maguire, shut the door. All of you, sit down.”

  They sat.

  Black said nothing.

  More seconds ticked away.

  Dec had training in interrogation techniques. They all did, which meant they all knew what their CO was doing: He was reinforcing the facts. He was in charge. They were essentially powerless. Whatever took place next was under his control.

  Still, knowing all that didn’t much help.

  Dec was uncomfortable. He knew the other guys were equally uncomfortable. It was that old routine of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  The one difference was that they were all well-trained. They knew how vital it was to wait for that shoe to drop. Black knew it too, which meant it was a relief—a very small one, but still a relief—when he finally made a move.

  He pushed back his chair and rose from his desk.

  The men from Unit One started to shoot to their feet. Black held up a hand and motioned them back.

  “I’m told your flight home was uneventful.”

  Nobody responded.

  “I’ve read the debriefing reports on the firefight.”

  Still no response.

  “Twenty-eight insurgents killed. Four wounded. Half a dozen got away. No problem. Let them tell their boss how lousy they are when dealing with a STUD unit. Nicely done.”

  Silence.

  “And the princess extracted. Again, nicely done.”

  No one so much as blinked.

  “I do have some questions. Not a lot, just some—but we can get to those another time.” Black strolled to the window and looked out. “Right now, I have another topic to discuss.”

  A faint, ever so faint shuffling of feet.

  “It’s about what went down a few days ago. Your removal of the princess and two others from the camp where they were being held captive.” Black turned to look at the men, arms folded across his chest. “To be more specific, I’m interested in what happened at the point of extraction. Maguire. Sullivan. Spanos. Olivieri. Romano.”

  “Sir!” Five voices barked as one.

  “All of you managed to get on the Black Hawk that had been sent to extract you. All five of you, plus the ambassador and his wife. Is that correct?”

  “Yessir.”

  Black turned his gaze on Dec.

  Dec drew a long breath into his lungs. Here it was. The entire purpose of this meeting.

  “And then we come to you, Sanchez. Somehow, you and Princess Anoushka just couldn’t get to the bird all of your compatriots managed to reach. Am I correct again?

  Dec exhaled. Raised his chin. Looked directly at his commanding officer.

  “We could have reached it, sir. I chose not to do so.”

  Black’s eyes narrowed. “So when your friends told me you hadn’t been able to get to the Black Hawk in time, they were lying?”

  “It’s what they believed to be true, sir. They had no way of knowing I had decided that the princess and I would not go with them.”

  Not a lie. Just a harmless evasion. Would Black accept it? Dec waited. Finally, Black strode to his desk and sat down behind it.

  “Sanchez. Stay where you are. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  Spanos, Maguire, Sullivan, Romano and Olivier got to their feet. All of them looked at Dec.

  “Sir,” Romano said, “maybe we could—”

  “Out!”

  “Yessir, captain, but we were talking on the flight home and Lieutenant Sanchez told us that—”

  “OUT!”

  The men left. Black waited until he and Dec were alone. Then he looked at Dec.

  “Sanchez.”

  “Yessir.”

  Black slammed his fist on his desk. The stack of papers scattered.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? You had a clear mission. You were sent to rescue three Americans. You got to where you were supposed to go, slipped into that camp, found and freed the three hostages, took out a handful of human slime, got the hostages and yourselves through rough country and to our rescue helicopter when all the odds were against you, evaded a band of lunatics who tried to kill you—and then you grabbed a horse—a horse—and rode off into the sunset with the Royal Princess of Qaram.” Black shot to his feet. “What the fuck, Sanchez? Did you think you were starring in an old movie? Who’d you think you were? John Wayne? Errol Flynn? Jesus, don’t look so blank. How about something more recent. Daniel Day Lewis? That name ring a bell?”

  “Sir. Captain Black. I know how it looks…”

  “How it looks,” Black said tightly, “is like grounds for court-martial.”

  Dec didn’t say anything. What could he say? How could he argue with that?

  “So I’m waiting, Sanchez. Tell me what happened. Why you did what you did. I know you’d had a prior involvement with this woman. Did the prospect of being alone with her for a farewell fuck mean so much?”

  Dec was out of his chair before Black had finished the sentence. “If you weren’t wearing that uniform…”

  “Answer the question, Lieutenant. Were your actions personally motivated?”

  “I have more respect for my unit, for the men I serve with, than to have done something like that.” His eyes narrowed. “And I have more respect for Annie—for the Princess Anoushka—than to let anyone talk about her that way.”

  Black sighed. He sat down, folded his hands and looked at Dec.

  “You disobeyed orders.”

  Dec started to say that he had not—but he had. He’d been charged with freeing the hostages. He had done that—and then he’d gone further, strictly on his own.

  He felt sick to his stomach. He was finished in the Units. Finished in the service. If he got lucky, he’d be allowed to resign, but it was more than likely he would receive a dishonorable discharge.

  And yet, if it meant saving Annie from the life her uncle had planned for her, he’d have made the same choices all over again.

  Black jerked his chin at the chair Dec had abandoned. “Sit down, son,” he said quietly.

  Dec, head reeling, fell back into the chair.

  “You love this woman.”

  There was no sense in denying the truth. Dec nodded. “Yessir. I do.”

  “And she loves you.”

  “She does.”

  “And you want to be together.”

  Dec nodded a third time.

  “But that wasn’t why you disobeyed orders and rode off with her, was it?”

  “No. No sir. It wasn’t.” He looked at Black. “She was in terrible trouble. She still is. She was a pawn in an ugly game, an American citizen snatched from American soil—”

  “Snatched? As in taken against her will?”

  “Yessir.”

  Black sighed. He picked up his phone and told his aide he wasn’t to be interrupted. Then he nodded at Dec.

  “Tell me everything, Sanchez. Start right at the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”

  So Dec told him.

  He began with what Annie had divulged to him about the death of her parents and the takeover of the government by her uncle Cyrus. He spoke of the warning not to return home that had come from one of her father’s advisors. He explained her quiet, anonymous existence in Santa Barbara.

  He spoke calmly until he got to the part about two men entering her apartment, kidnapping her and flying her back to Qaram.

  When he reached that, Dec could alm
ost feel the rush of adrenaline in his body.

  He got to his feet, paced as he talked, as he related her imprisonment by her uncle, her uncle’s plans to invade the oil-rich kingdom of Suwaith on Qaram’s southern border, his bargain with the king of Tharsalonia that Tharsalonia would not oppose Qaram’s invasion if Annie were given to him as his wife.

  “So Annie Stanton was to be used to give Qaram’s ruler carte blanche in an invasion of a sovereign nation, and the only reason that didn’t happen was because bandits kidnapped her for sale to the terrorist Altair Amjad,” Black shook his head. “I can see why she wasn’t eager to be sent back to Qaram.”

  “Yessir,” Dec said. “No way could I let that happen. There was no time to consult with you or—”

  “You were in possession of information vital to our national interests, especially the planned invasion of Suwaith. You surely know we have interests and commitments there.”

  “Oil,” Dec said bluntly.

  “Oil,” Black agreed. “And the fact that Suwaith is a fairly stable nation in an area known for its instability. Didn’t you think any of that would be important to report?”

  “Yessir. Of course I did. But first I had to get Annie—the princess—out of harm’s way.”

  “And you reached this conclusion, how?”

  “My mission was to get her to safety. And as I saw it, that meant keeping her from being returned to Qaram.”

  “Because?”

  “Because, sir, it was the right thing to do.”

  Silence filled the room. Then Black got to his feet again.

  “In other words, you realized that returning the princess to her uncle would enable him to move forward with his plans to use her to form an alliance with Tharsalonia.”

  Dec nodded. True enough, but that hadn’t really factored into his decision. He wasn’t going to lie about it just to protect himself.

  “I was aware of that, sir, but—”

  “You concluded that as long as you kept the princess out of the game, so to speak, her uncle could not formalize that alliance.”

  “Yessir. But—”

  “And you recognized the importance of finding ways to prevent the invasion of Suwaith so that we would not be drawn into an armed engagement.”

  “I didn’t know anything about the Suwaith situation until—”

  “Finally, you factored in Amjad’s intention to acquire the princess for himself. You hoped that if you disrupted his plan, he might lose face, even show himself and be vulnerable to capture.” Black’s words were unhurried. Deliberate. Spoken in the same unemotional way he might have delivered them to an investigative body. “All intelligent conclusions, Lieutenant. No one could fault you for acting on them, especially when you had to make your decisions in the heat of battle.”

  “Sir. I understand what you’re doing and I’m very grateful. But getting me off the hook changes nothing for Annie.” A muscle knotted in Dec’s jaw. “She’s in grave danger, sir, perhaps even more than before, now that she—now that she spent time alone with me. Her uncle may see her as—as damaged according to the tenets of Qaram’s culture. She may have lost her value to him…”

  Dec couldn’t go on. If Annie’s uncle assumed she’d had a lover, if he forced a physical exam on her, who knew where his rage might lead?

  Black went to his desk, picked up a pen and rolled it between his fingers.

  “You’ve unknowingly defined the current situation, Lieutenant.”

  “The current situation?”

  “Your princess is up shit’s creek,” the captain said bluntly. “Intel’s been coming in almost faster than we can process it. For starters, you are correct in your conclusion that the Tharsalonian king no longer wants Anoushka. Therefore, her uncle has decided she should be used in a different fashion.”

  Dec’s heart thudded. “What does that mean?”

  “The deal the bandits made with Amjad is now Cyrus’s deal. Apparently, Amjad doesn’t care if the princess spent time alone with you.” His face tightened. “In fact, the son of a bitch seems to think her possible involvement with an American Special Ops warrior adds to her desirability. Some sort of convoluted slap in our face, as it were.”

  Dec dragged air into his lungs. “No. That can’t happen.”

  “In return for the princess, Amjad will aid in the invasion of Suwaith. He and his men will then have a sovereign state as their base—and a steady supply of oil to fund their activities.”

  Dec’s head was spinning. Amjad with an entire oil-rich nation in his back pocket was bad news, but all he could think about was Annie in the hands of the terrorist. His reputation for barbaric cruelty was unsurpassed.

  “There is, however, one bright spot in all of this.”

  The captain’s voice seemed far away. Whatever he was saying was unimportant. Annie was all that mattered. No way could he let her fall into Amjad’s hands. He would go to her. Free her.

  No matter what it took.

  He knew that part of the world. He had contacts there who could help him get him into Qaram. He would find a way into the palace and get Annie the hell out. It wouldn’t be easy, but he had an intricate skill set and he didn’t have to wear a uniform to utilize those skills.

  He would do whatever it took to free her.

  His actions would also mark him as a renegade.

  The life he loved in STUD would be over, but what did that matter when he could save Annie?

  Black was still talking. Dec decided there was no sense in letting him finish.

  “Captain,” he said abruptly, “there’s no easy way to say this.” He paused, aware that his next words would be irrevocable. “Being a part of this division… It means everything to me, sir. I’m proud to serve with you and the men in the Units. I’m proud of what we do. But I’m going to have to tender my—”

  “Dammit, Lieutenant,” Black said, tossing aside the pen, “have you heard a word I said? Cyrus’s plans for his country have leaked to the Qarami underground. It’s a group loyal to the former king and it’s been waiting in the wings for a long time. They’re organized. Ready to establish a democratic interim government. All they need is some help in removing Cyrus from the throne.”

  “That’s good news, I’m sure, sir, but by the time that happens—”

  “Amjad is coming for the princess in six days. That’s just one hundred and forty-four hours from now. Cyrus is playing it quietly—he knows there’s strong opposition to him and he didn’t want the populace to be aware of his plan to link forces with Amjad, but word got out anyway. The Qarami opposition is determined to stop him.”

  Dec’s face had gone white. “Annie, handed over to the Deliverer? Never. Not while I’m still alive.”

  “Goddammit, Sanchez, stop being such a fucking idiot! What, you have some romantic picture of yourself as a renegade?”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t let this happen.”

  “You can’t let it happen? We can’t let it happen! A terrorist lunatic invading Suwaith? Suwaith is our ally. We would have no choice but to put boots on the ground in its defense.”

  Dec stared at his CO, who took a deep breath.

  “On the day of the event, I need six of our best men to get into the palace, neutralize Cyrus and hand him over to the Qarami opposition for trial. I need those same six men to capture and bring out a terrorist who is of great interest to our government.” Black paused. “And if, in the process, those six men find an American citizen who is being held captive and bring her home, they would have our government’s thanks.”

  It took a few seconds before Dec understood what he’d been offered. He wanted to leap to his feet and cheer.

  “Yessir,” he said calmly. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

  “Yes,” Black said dryly. “I thought it might.” He flashed something that was almost a smile. “Get some sleep, put some food in your belly, and I’ll see you and the rest of Unit One back here in precisely four hours.”

  CHAPTER FIFT
EEN

  They had fewer than five days to put together a plan before they’d have to implement it.

  Black gave it the code name Renegade. He said the name with a straight face, but his gaze lingered briefly on Declan.

  Chay’s reaction to the time crunch was succinct. “Fuck,” he said.

  That about summed it up.

  But they weren’t new to this. They’d worked under tighter deadlines and cooperation from Black, from the alphabet-soup agency that had final approval over the mission and from the freedom fighters forming up inside Qaram helped grease the skids.

  What they came up with was something basic. No bells or whistles—but it did have a lot of moving parts.

  The so-called wedding of Princess Anoushka and the terrorist Altair Amjad would take place at twenty-two hundred hours Qarami time.

  At seventeen hundred hours, a helicopter equipped with the newest Stealth technology would drop STUD One in high desert country a mile from the palace.

  They would reach their final destination on foot.

  A mile was nothing to men who did ten and fifteen mile training runs in full gear.

  The important thing was to know as much as possible about their target location.

  Satellite photos showed that the palace stood in splendid isolation on a hill with a commanding view of the ancient city below. The palace had been built five hundred years earlier, but Annie’s father had made changes that had moved it into the twenty-first century.

  Modern plumbing. Modern electricity.

  A very modern computer system.

  Dec smiled, rolled up his metaphorical sleeves and went back to something he’d always been good at.

  Hacking.

  He pulled up classified schematics, graphs and charts along with copies of drawings of the palace that had been made when it was first built.

  Soon, they could virtually see inside the centuries-old walls

  “Hack and ye shall find,” Spanos said, and though they all laughed, they agreed it was true.

  Before long, they knew the location of the guard stations as well as all the entry and egress points. They knew the palace contained twenty-six bedrooms and thirty-four bathrooms, a library, a ballroom, a state dining room, a throne room and a seemingly endless number of meeting rooms. The servants’ quarters were on the fourth level; the kitchen and laundry were in the basement.