Dark Salvation (DARC Ops Book 7)

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Dark Salvation (DARC Ops Book 7) Page 20

by Jamie Garrett


  “It’s not.”

  Another lie.

  “But I just had to bring it up,” he said. “I needed to clear the air, especially after last night.”

  “That was nothing. You know, just girls being slightly intoxicated girls. Just, you know . . .”

  “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I was just worried for a second there. I really respect you. You know that. I think you’re an incredible journalist, and, well, an inspiration. And, dare I say, a role model?”

  Annica laughed, thinking about what kind of journalistic role model she’d been with Cole, her latest line-crossing. Hot and nasty line-crossing that she still felt a little sore from . . .

  “What’s so funny?” Ethan asked.

  “Nothing. Just the idea, I guess.” The sun had climbed higher and she was just starting to feel its warmth on her skin. It felt good. It even felt good to be sitting and talking with her younger coworker, despite the conversation. But maybe it was just the conversation she’d been looking to have with him. She was glad he’d brought it up first. Whatever it was . . .

  What was it?

  Had he found someone else to busy himself with?

  “So,” Annica said, “did you stay up pretty late last night?”

  “No.”

  Lie? She remembered seeing him last with Kalani, talking. No notebook anywhere in sight.

  “I see you found your latest subject,” Annica said.

  He smiled. “What does that mean?”

  “Just you following the story down its latest twist and turn. Sussing it out, right? I’m glad.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’m working.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  He smiled again, and then looked away, off toward the sunrise. The day was coming on hot and fast.

  Jackson’s voice sounded behind her. “Hey, you two. Comparing notes?”

  The sound of the waves had hidden the approach, he and Mira strolling casually toward them along the tide’s edge. Before Jackson got close enough for her answer, Annica re-thought his question. One last round of narrative analysis before her lips loosened with the answer. Ethan, meanwhile, just sat there, staring off against the sun.

  Comparing notes?

  It seemed fitting somehow, that they had in fact been comparing some type of notes. Getting back on the same page. She was glad they reconvened like this the day of the mission. She felt that much more ready to get on with it, and to put the horrible work segment of this Hawaiian trip behind her. She had things to move on to. Better things.

  She decided against answering Jackson, and instead complimented Mira on how calm and collected she appeared after the night’s wild events.

  “I wasn’t the one stuck in a disaster movie,” Mira said. “Kudos go to you. And Cole.”

  “And Kalani,” Ethan said. “She saved that guy’s life.”

  Annica hadn’t told anyone about what she’d done for Cole, though she suspected he had. Especially with the way he’d smiled at her for the rest of the night. The way he’d waited on her hand and foot. He had the look of a proud . . . boyfriend?

  And then, after . . .

  “Well,” Jackson said, “I’m glad everyone’s in good spirits. We’ve got a big day.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

  Ethan shot her a quick look, as if to check her sincerity. Then he said, “Me, too.”

  Jackson stood at their side, wearing a golf shirt and plaid Bermuda shorts, looking quite like a tourist. Maybe that was the ruse. Mira, on the other hand, wore jeans and a sweater and looked more like a local, still cold in the early morning. The only part of her that seemed foreign was her face: pale, and anxious. When she smiled, the anxiety was still there, marking her deeply.

  “You guys ready for breakfast?” she said.

  Annica brought an extra plate into the guest house, setting it down on the wicker nightstand. Cole rolled over and looked at it, and then at her, his eyelids still fluttering to fully open. His hair was a mess. So was his face, all mashed in with sleep. She thought it looked hot.

  The man didn’t have a bad side.

  “Thanks,” he said, not looking at the plate. He looked hungry for something else, licking his lips now.

  “I thought you’d be hungry,” Annica said.

  “I am.”

  “I thought you’d need to refuel after last night.”

  “Come here,” he said, sitting up on his side, smiling. “Come on.”

  Today was such a big day . . .

  “Come here . . .”

  Annica took a few more steps to the end of the bed and said, “You need to eat.”

  “I will.” He smiled again, taking Annica’s hand and pulling her onto the bed.

  25

  Cole

  He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have overexerted himself with Annica, both at night and this morning. He could feel it in his legs, his muscles a little less ready and reactive. He felt slow. Clouded over. Worst of all, he felt satisfied.

  The romp with Annica and the partial drowning had taken a lot of snap out of his muscles. It also had changed his mind about a lot of things. For one, Hawaii, and the need to get to more stable, dry ground. For two, Annica. The need to have her on that ground with him.

  “Hi, Cole,” Kalani said. She was already at the beach, waiting for Cole and the rest of the boat team. On the boat, they would be split up into two groups. Team A: Cole and Kalani, who would be landing ashore in Hilo and going deep into the Khan facility. And Team B, a familiar team: Annica and Ethan. They would stay on the boat, waiting, watching, and monitoring the comms. If need be, Ethan would form his own team. Team X, the last line of backup if things had gone that wrong.

  “Did Jackson already leave?” Kalani said, sitting on a row of metal ammo boxes. Cole joined her there, staring out at the sea and waiting for their boat to come in.

  “Jackson left with Macy and Tucker,” Cole said. “The land party.”

  “Is that the other couple?”

  Cole chuckled and said, “Macy and Tucker? Yeah, I guess they’re a couple.”

  “And you’re coupled with Annica?”

  “I don’t know,” Cole said. “Are you a couple with Ethan?”

  She laughed and kicked up some sand. “I’m not a couple with anyone. I’m solo. I’m a black widow.”

  “I can see that,” Cole said. “Why the hell haven’t I seen you anywhere?”

  She only smiled at that.

  “Fine,” Cole said. “I guess I know the answer to that. But why don’t I know about you? I think I know every security guard on this island.”

  “You thought you knew every guard.”

  “Especially the guys involved . . . I mean . . .” Cole stopped himself. Kalani was most certainly not a guy. “I mean, especially the people involved with Khan and Blackwoods.”

  “That’s another problem,” Kalani said. “I’m not involved with them.”

  “But your sister is?”

  Kalani nodded.

  “The Captain’s secretary?” It was hard for Cole to imagine they were the same blood. Physically, sure. They were both beautiful. But how they chose to steer their occupations, their lives, their souls . . .

  “That’s why I’m doing this,” Kalani said. “That thing last night was just another of Jackson’s fitness tests. Or loyalty tests, or whatever he wants to call it. It didn’t matter to me. I was just doing another job. But this is different.”

  “I need to talk to you about that,” Cole said. “About last night.”

  “No, don’t,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  Kalani sighed. “It was a crazy night.”

  Cole nodded, feeling a shared truth solidify between them. A shared understanding of that understatement.

  Maybe it could have been the shared occupation, but Cole felt immediately comfortable with her now, as a Hawaiian security guard. The same couldn’t have been said for last
night, of course, when she, the black widow, had a gun trained on him and Annica. But that was by design. She was doing her job. And doing it very well.

  “You’re a tough cookie,” Cole said.

  “Yeah,” Kalani said. “I kind of am.” She gave him a wink and then looked back out to the sea, and then looking down the coast in the direction of the distant and slow vibrato of an approaching boat as it skimmed the waves. “Did you find your piece?”

  “What?” Jackson said. It had been a long time since he’d found peace. A piece, on the other hand . . .

  “The Glock,” Kalani said, still staring at the boat’s approach. “Jackson left the case on the picnic table. A belt snap, too.”

  “Oh,” Cole said, patting his side, where the Glock sat ready in the holster. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”

  “I was able to stop by my house for clothes, and for some more gear. Before the sun came up.”

  “Jackson let you leave here? I’m surprised.”

  “He sent Ethan with me,” Kalani said.

  “Oh,” Cole said. “Is that them?” He was staring out, too, at the boat. It had been following the shore line and coming across at a high rate of speed, jumping and slapping now against the waves. There was something in back of it. Another, smaller boat, tied up and tugged. It looked like a fishing dinghy, but with a huge outboard motor. A little more pep than required for fishing. Overkill.

  He liked overkill. As long as it was his side doing the killing.

  Twenty minutes later, they had all boarded and set out, dinghy in tow. Cole and Kalani, in the back of the small yacht, huddled over and concentrated on a diagram of the Khan facility. Annica and Mira were inside at the controls, Annica taking the wheel. Ethan sat up top of everyone, just staring in all directions. Cole could almost see the writing happening inside the guy’s head. If the day went well, it would be a life-defining one for all aboard.

  The same could be said, he was sure, if the day did not go well.

  Though Ethan—Team X—had a ridiculous-looking Jet Ski at his disposal in case things seemed to be moving in the wrong direction. Cole hoped for everyone’s sake that the Jet Ski would stay parked, or suspended on deck, right where it was.

  “She’s moving pretty fast now,” Kalani said, holding down the edge of the diagram so the wind wouldn’t wick up under it and flip it into the wind and overboard.

  It was of no surprise to Cole that Annica had boating experience from the Virginia coast, though it was limited to cruising and anchoring. But that was all that was required today. Sneaking up and anchoring off the coast of Hilo harbor, near the Khan facility. And waiting there while Cole and Kalani took the dinghy across to the rocks, behind the rocks, concealed and roped up there for later. For their escape.

  He hoped they would both be escaping, and with their evidence. The captain’s laptop.

  Cole knew enough about it, that it never left the captain’s room.

  It would today, along with every other secret that had been weighing on Cole’s shoulders. He was ready to bring it all to the surface, to expose them all above the waves. Not him. He was tired of being the literal fall guy.

  Twenty more minutes later, and the engine was silent. The boat still. The Khan facility in the viewfinder of Cole’s binoculars.

  Should he have kissed her?

  That was his main thought as Cole climbed into the dinghy, squatting over to the rear and then dropping the outboard engine into the water.

  Should he have kissed her in front of everyone?

  They weren’t a secret. But they’d also taken efforts to not be so blatant about their attraction. Perhaps, after the mission, they could be a little more illustrative, feeling relieved and light and drunk on the mission’s success. And drunk on each other.

  He turned the key, held the choke, and then opened up the throttle, the whole boat vibrating with it. He slipped the engine in neutral and then turned back to see Kalani climbing aboard from the water, one knee up on the gunwale. One elbow over. Shoulder over. And then her svelte body rolling into the boat with hardly a sound. The Black Widow.

  Cole gave one last wave to the boat crew, Team B, before unhooking the boat from the tug line. He thought of that last kiss he was too afraid to take from Annica. He thought of getting his mind back on the mission.

  Concentrate.

  “How you doing?” Kalani asked, smiling at him curiously. Had she known? And then her smile quickly soured. Yes, she might have known. It would be reasonable for her to be upset about going to war with a preoccupied, love struck teammate. It was worse than being drugged.

  “I’m good,” Cole said, wiping his face with his palms, wiping Annica away, waking up.

  “Get your head in this, Cole.”

  “I know,” he said. “It is.”

  “You look like you just woke up from a handful of sleeping pills.”

  “I’m good,” Cole said, wiping his face again. “What does your time say?”

  The two members of Team A synchronized their watches and reconfirmed their meet-up time and location. Thirty minutes from now, they were to rendezvous at the rear guardhouse where Kalani was supposed to have already “neutralized” the resident guard—who was a friend to both of them. Then they’d trek back to the boat, hopefully with the captain’s laptop in Cole’s hands, and Kalani’s sister in hers. He and Kalani were both somewhat known at the facility, so there wouldn’t be any need for a noisy entry or blazing guns. The idea was to slip in and out with little to no noise. The weapons were just insurance.

  Cole wished they had more insurance, but their task was supposed to be about stealth and sleight of hand. Manipulation, even. He supposed, if things got too dicey, they had the insurance of Jackson’s nearby Team C. He and Tucker and Macy, with a much larger arsenal, would already be on land and waiting at their post nearby.

  “Alright,” Cole said, as their dinghy slowed for the rocks at the far end of the Khan property. He cut the engine altogether so they could drift the rest of the way, quietly, stealthily. “Get your game face on.”

  Kalani grinned. “It’s been on for the last two days.”

  She might be small, but the woman was a warrior. She looked over her weapon one last time before concealing it in her inside-the-pant holster. She nodded to Cole, and he turned back to the rocks of the jetty. Edging up closer now, careful not to strike it too loudly. They came to a stop with a gentle metal scrape, their movement coming to a sudden lurching end.

  It was a steep and unsteady climb up the rocks, small boulders piled up on the far end of the jetty. Some of the rocks moved underfoot as Cole scaled up behind Kalani. The rocks weren’t moving for her. She had either picked the right ones, or was just half Cole’s weight.

  There was an old storage container that had been sitting by the edge of the jetty. This was their second layer of coverage, and getting to it, and resting behind it, they could regroup and formulate how to cross the first real gap. Their first risk: twenty feet with no cover across a dirt roadway to the brick side of the facility.

  “I don’t see anyone,” Kalani said, peering around the corner. “You still want to run?”

  “No. Let’s walk it. Normal speed.”

  “Can you do that?” Kalani asked.

  Could he walk normally?

  Cole chuckled. “I don’t know. You go first, and I’ll watch.”

  “Watch me, or watch the windows for cover?”

  “Just go, Kalani,” he said. “I got you.”

  She left the cover of the container and walked across the road, casually, as if she’d belonged there. There was maybe a hint of urgency in her stride that suggested an employee late for work. Absolutely nothing suggested the real truth of her visit.

  Cole kept glancing to where he knew guards or employees could be watching from. But there were no shapes. No movements from inside. On the opposite side of the building would be Captain’s window. His office. And perhaps the captain himself.

  Cole secretly wanted one l
ast meet-up with the man who had caused him so much grief. The man who may have turned his friend, Tommy, against him. Jackson made it clear that he wanted the mission to be, as he kept saying, “all stealth.” Having no Captain around would certainly make it a lot easier to steal the laptop. But sneaking around, even stealthily, gave no pleasure to Cole, who sometimes preferred a good old-fashioned bar brawl. It was straightforward. Looking at the captain straight in the eyes before punching him between them. It was truly old-school. Not this high-tech hacker bullshit.

  He walked slower than usual across the clearing.

  He and Kalani parted ways here, both scurrying alongside the wall in separate directions. Cole rounded a corner and climbed up a set of steps next to a loading bay door. The old delivery dock. He knew the trick for getting in the door, which was a simultaneous pull on the handle while giving it as hard a kick as possible.

  Cole thought of the captain and the door flung open. He stepped inside, calmly. Everything was completely normal.

  26

  Cole

  The morning had grown hot, especially out in the water, in full sun. The running around. The stress of it all. He wiped his brow and continued on, deeper into the welcoming cold darkness of the abandoned shipping-and-receiving center.

  When he emerged into the brightly lit hallways of the facility, the very public and very much-used hallways, he tried to regain that feeling of calm familiarity. Like he’d just been showing up for another day of work. He tried to push it out of his mind that his employers had been potentially trying to kill him.

  He walked normally down a familiar route, knocked on the door, and waited to hear the voice of Kalani’s sister.

  “Go ahead,” she said, the voice sounding now like an uncanny replica of Kalani’s. And when he opened the door and looked at her, Cole saw the resemblance to the Hawaiian woman’s face. She smiled at Cole. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while.”

  “I was here yesterday,” Cole said.

  Her left eye fluttered shut, a synapse of remembrance firing in her brain. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “With that woman . . .”

 

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