by Kris Norris
That was crucial. Bringing the bastard in alive. Part of the equation Colt didn’t agree with because alive meant possible threat. And he’d been trained not to leave those around to bite him or his team in the ass, later.
But, it had been nonnegotiable. A requirement to get the Marshal Service on board. And they were integral in the final stages of the plan. If it got that far. Had dedicated forces to arrest McCormick and his men. They’d also offered to use their own drone to patrol the skies—keep any bogeys from raining missiles down on them. Ensure the transfer went as agreed.
Christ. This was insane. And if anyone was crazy, it was Colt for agreeing to this.
Four minutes to the exchange...
Cannon turned to face Ellis in the back, one arm over the edge of the seat. “You know how we all feel about this.”
It wasn’t a question, and Ellis merely nodded. She hadn’t said a word since leaving the safehouse. “It’s the only way.”
“There’s always another way, honey.”
Ellis looked out the windshield, staring at the emptiness just like Colt had been doing. “If we had more time, maybe. But every second Kam spends with that psychotic bastard, the more likely he is to hurt her. I know the risks. I can live with them.”
“But that’s the problem.” Colt met her gaze in the rearview because if he turned to face her—he’d pull her into his lap and tell Cannon to drive. “If any one thing goes wrong, you won’t be alive to regret this.”
“Then, we’ll have to make sure it all goes right.”
“Nothing ever goes exactly as planned, sweetheart. Murphy’s Law.”
“You think I don’t know that? That I want this? I never wanted any of this. I wanted y—”
She swallowed, glancing away.
You. That’s what she was going to say. I wanted you. And Colt’s fucking chest squeezed tight.
She took a deep breath. “I’ve spent the past five years executing missions far more dangerous than this. With men crueler than McCormick. Always wondering if this would be the one that killed me. If I’d somehow outed myself, or been outed. If the asset was faster than me. Or smarter. If maybe enough of me wanted to die this go ‘round, I might find a way to make it happen. So, don’t look at me as if I don’t understand the gravity of the situation. I do.”
He couldn’t stop from twisting in his seat, this time. Reaching for her hand. Ignoring the slight tremor. “Then, let us think of another solution.”
“It’s too late. Besides, I’ve got an ace up my sleeve.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “You. Cannon. The rest of the team. Never had a team I trusted before. Or one as skilled. I’ll put my faith in all of you.”
Three minutes to the exchange…
Screw faith. She was putting her life in their hands. And Colt was intimately aware that he couldn’t pay the price of failure. That he wouldn’t be able to pull himself back, this time, if he lost her, again.
Cannon nodded. “We’ve got your back, Ellis.”
Cannon tapped his mike, going through a variety of checks. Hank on the top of a vacant warehouse to their left. Check. Rigs dressed as a vagrant against the pillars in front of them. Check. Midnight covering the entrance sector to their left—crouched down on the break wall. Check. Ice and Six positioned in the rear—watching for any kind of flanking forces. Double check.
They also had Addison and Blade searching for explosives in the adjoining buildings while Jericho covered the one street in and out with Art. Observing only. They had overhead visual via the drone and would track McCormick’s car back to his base—in theory.
McCormick wasn’t stupid. He knew the kinds of resources Colt might be able to get his hands on. No doubt that bastard knew everything about Colt and Cannon. Six and the others. So, McCormick might have a way to take the drone out of commission. Which meant everything rode of Ellis’ GPS trackers.
Two minutes to the exchange…
Cannon faced her, again. “Everyone’s in position. Remember. Don’t start walking—”
“Until Kameron does. And don’t cross the center line between our vehicle and theirs until Kameron’s at the same spot. I need to keep out of everyone’s sight line, in case they have to take a shot. Then, I just wait for everyone to rescue me wherever it is they take me.”
“Bang on.”
Colt clenched his fists in his lap. “He might just shoot you. You know that, right?”
She gave him a reassuring smile that did nothing to ease the restless gnaw in his stomach. “He knows I won’t be alone. Opening fire would be a tactically poor decision, and McCormick doesn’t make many of those.”
“Be a hell of a time for him to start.”
“Brett—”
“One minute.” Cannon signaled to the lone road in. “We’ve got movement. Everyone, mission is a go.”
Colt focused straight ahead. Now, wasn’t the time to be thinking about all the ways this op could turn ugly. He needed to carry his weight. Make sure this part of the plan was executed properly. Trust that Ellis knew McCormick as well as she claimed. That she wasn’t walking into an ambush. That this wasn’t the last time he’d ever see her alive.
Lights straight ahead, slicing through the darkness, mapping out the vehicle’s path. It was two hours before sunrise. Overcast. Nothing to lessen the shadows without thermal or IR.
The perfect makings for that ambush.
They waited until the Suburban came to a full stop, engine still idling. The driver flashed the high beams three times. Cannon answered in kind, keeping the headlights aimed at the other vehicle—spotlighting the whole transfer site.
Cannon looked back. “Ready?”
Go time…
Ellis nodded then opened the door. Stepping onto the cracked pavement. Colt held his position behind the passenger door, gun drawn. Aimed at the fucker who got out of the back.
Roger McCormick.
Dressed in black pants, a black tee, with matching black shirt, he looked every inch the commando his file claimed. He didn’t make a move, just stood there. Arms by his sides, gaze fixed on Ellis.
Ellis moved in beside Colt, stopping then waiting. Another man got out of the front right door wearing the same black outfit. Big. Definitely ex-Special Forces—the way he moved. His obvious situational awareness. SOG asshole, for sure. He headed to the rear, yanking a woman out of the back. She had a pillowcase over her head—hands bound in front.
Cannon motioned to her with his gun. “Remove the sack and untie her.”
The big bruiser holding her looked over at his boss. McCormick nodded. The guy complied, removing the hood and slicing through the restraints, then strong-arming her around to the front of the vehicle. Ellis inhaled once then settled.
It was Kameron. No doubt. Looked as if she’d kept fighting while she’d been held. Darker shadows along her forehead—down her arm where her shirt was ripped. What Colt assumed were bruises. No obvious blood, but he couldn’t be sure.
McCormick motioned toward the Jeep. The other man gave Kameron a shove—got her stumbling toward them. Ellis took a step, stopped then turned, claiming Colt’s mouth in a searing kiss before stepping back.
She touched her lips, staring for one more heartbeat, then moved, slowly heading toward Kameron. The other woman shook her head, pleading to Ellis, but she kept walking. No hesitation. No fear.
And it scared the shit out of Colt. Standing there. Watching her stop in front of McCormick. She handed the man the motherboard and the thumb drive, holding her arms out when McCormick’s muscle moved in behind her. He patted her down then waved some kind of wand along her clothes.
McCormick made some signal with his hand and the other guy ripped Ellis’ jacket off—tossed it down. There was a moment of his hand grabbing her arm, then she was falling against him. Limp. All of them jumping into the vehicle...racing backwards…
Gone. Out of sight. There one moment, nothing but that empty horizon the next. Taking Colt’s fucking life with them.
Canno
n was back on the com. “Okay, team, we’re through the looking glass. Ice, get up here. Kam needs a freaking medic. Six, you’re with Colt. We’ll get ready to move. Keep a safe distance back. Jericho, I’m on my way to your twenty. Be there in sixty. I want a visual on that vehicle until it stops. Tell Art to mobilize the Marshal SOG team. I want them ready to be in position sixty seconds after that bastard McCormick gets to his location.”
Cannon’s hand on Colt’s shoulder. “Looks like they checked for the tracker, just like Ellis said. Left it behind.”
“Let’s just hope the other works. That McCormick doesn’t check, again, in twenty minutes. Because if he does…”
She’s dead. If she wasn’t already.
“We’re not going to let him hurt her.” Cannon nodded as Ice appeared, bag in hand. “Thirty seconds. Then, we roll.”
Colt nodded. He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t open his damn mouth because he knew he’d start shouting and wouldn’t stop. This was wrong. He felt it. He never should have agreed. Stood there and watched while she was drugged—carted away. He knew it was all part of the plan. That she’d anticipated McCormick would take that route. In fact, Ellis had nailed exactly how the entire transfer would go down. Not a fucking bullet fired.
But Colt couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t done, yet. That McCormick had a contingency plan they hadn’t considered. That all it would take was one unknown delta tossed into the mix, and the entire op would blow up in their faces.
And Colt would lose Ellis.
Six appeared beside him and slapped him on the shoulder. “Get your head out of your ass and your ass in the damn Jeep. Ellis is counting on us.”
Colt jumped in, waiting until Cannon gave the signal. Then, they were moving. Racing down that road then splitting up. Taking parallel routes. Avoiding getting spotted in case McCormick had men watching. Following behind. Cannon was calling out directions, obviously from the drone. Kam was bitching in the back, trying to shove Ice off her. Demanding a damn phone so she could trace Ellis’ GPS—if the other one kicked in. If it worked as planned.
Six made a sharp right, sliding a sideways glance at Colt. “She’ll be okay. She’s tough. And we’ll be there to bust in before he can finish accessing her server.”
“If it all works out. If the drone doesn’t get sidelined. If that bastard hasn’t killed her, already. If that fucking GPS works.”
He shook his head, holding onto the frame as Six threw the vehicle around another turn. “If he hurts her, he’s dead. I don’t care what it costs. How long it takes. I’ll hunt the fucker to Somalia. Afghanistan. Russia. Jungle, desert, mountains. There won’t be a square inch on this Earth he’ll be able to hide that I won’t find him.”
“How about we just take him out, here, and save you all that travel.”
Colt looked over at his buddy. “You shouldn’t even be here, let alone driving.”
“I’m fine. Spent forty-eight hours sitting on my ass. Besides, I’d rather not end up wrapped around a pole because you’re too fixated on Ellis.”
“I’m perfectly calm.”
Six sighed, glancing at Ice and Kam in the back. “I’m not judging, Colt. If that crazy bastard had ahold of the woman I loved, I wouldn’t be seeing straight, either. In fact, you probably would have had to tie me up because I wouldn’t have had the strength to go through with this. Would have been selfish and just hogtied her in my car and disappeared.”
“I was considering that until El took down that CIA guard with some spinning, ninja move. She’d have my balls before I could get the rope.”
“I heard. Would have liked to have seen that.”
“You might still get the chance because there’s no way in hell this isn’t going down without a fight. I just hope she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire.”
“We’ve never let a brother down before on a mission. Not starting, now.”
Colt looked over at Six, praying the man was right. That the confidence wasn’t misplaced.
“Vehicle just entered a factory warehouse. Hold and stay sharp.”
Cannon’s voice. Steady. Commanding. Bringing back memories of all the missions they’d been through. Six was right. They’d always brought their brothers home. Not always without injury, but home.
Six pulled over behind a parked vehicle—blended in as they waited. Kam had Ice’s phone. Had accessed the secure server that would track Ellis’ GPS once it came online. Nothing to do but wait.
Long, endless silence. Eating up Colt’s sanity. Testing that calm he’d just mentioned to Six.
A blast of static, then Cannon. “Fuck. Four identical Suburbans just left the warehouse. No plates. Midnight, take the one going south. Rigs, North. I’ll go east. Six, stay on the one heading northwest.”
Six grunted, pulled out then hit the gas. Cannon called out a few street names, and Six took the next left, peeling around the corner. Fishtailing the Jeep into his lane. He raced through a red light, dodging the cars as if he could see them coming before he got there. Down a few side streets, over two alleys, and the vehicle appeared in front of them.
His buddy slowed, snuck in behind two other cars as he kept a safe distance back. It was impossible to tell if this was the one holding Ellis. The windows were heavily tinted, not even a dim outline showing through. And with it still pitch-black outside, they were stuck wondering. Hoping.
Colt looked back at Kam. “Anything, yet?”
She shook her head.
Six’s hand landed on Colt’s forearm. “Ellis said it would take twenty to thirty minutes for that gelatin barrier blocking the battery to dissolve—allow it to complete the circuit and start sending out a signal. And that was just an estimate. It’ll work.”
“I can’t believe I’m trusting her life to a damn parlor trick.”
“A brilliant one. I’m not sure I would have thought to delay the transmitter by wedging a piece of a capsule between the contact and the battery. Then swallow it. Let her body do the rest. That is why she kissed you, right? To cover up swallowing it?”
“That, and I’m a great kisser.”
“Right. That girl’s something else.” Six nudged him. “You finally going to tell her you’re still insanely in love with her? Or are Ice and I going to have to beat it out of you?”
“Why don’t you worry about keeping on this guy’s tail, and I’ll worry about what I’ll say to El.”
“Opting for the beating. I’ll let Ice have the first round.” Six slowed the vehicle. “Shit. They’re going into one of the piers under the port authority. We don’t have clearance for that.”
“Find us a route to the water, Six. Now. Before they disappear and we have to search a thousand fucking containers.”
But Six was already spinning the Wrangler around, barreling down the next cross street. He hit an intersection—plowed right through. Not even touching the breaks—then swerved down an alleyway barely wide enough to fit without scraping the mirrors. He didn’t slow, didn’t waver, launching them across another thoroughfare, then skidding into a large gravel lot. He gunned it, sliding to a halt in a blinding cloud of dust.
Colt was up and out before the air cleared, the Jeep still rocking beside him. One quick check of his equipment and he was off—darting down the fence line, scouring the area for guards or cameras. He wasn’t sure what kind of security the place had, other than their own damn police force. If they’d have to cut through wire, vault over walls. Didn’t matter. He had everything. Bolt cutters. Grenades—flashbangs and smoke. More firepower than a SWAT team, and enough C4 to level a wall. They could arrest his ass. Lock him up. He didn’t care as long as he got to Ellis.
She was in that Suburban. Colt knew it. Felt it. It seemed fitting McCormick would take her back here. So close to where she’d escaped. Like a slap in the face. And with all the noise—the trucks, the cranes. The constant play of the ocean. The gulls crying overhead—Ellis could call out and no one would hear her. And it was too early to be that busy, which probably
meant a reduced police presence.
Hadn’t reduced the work going on, though. Damn place was up and running. Twenty-four seven, it seemed. Boats coming in off the ocean. More lining the dock.
Christ, what if McCormick intended on taking her away? What if he wasn’t planning on interrogating her here? Was simply going to put her on a boat—get into international waters, then vanish?
Fuck that.
In under a minute, they’d worked their way to a section of the fence blocked by trailers and trucks. Colt went to one knee, making quick work of the chain link. He didn’t know if it was electrified—he didn’t think so, but the cutters were insulated. So, he made the hole large enough to get through without touching it. Risking his team.
Ice went in first, Six and Kam following after him. Neither of the two should be there. Colt didn’t know how Six was moving the way he was. As if he hadn’t been shot a few days, ago. Hadn’t torn out some stitches last night. And Kam—who knew what she’d been through. How she’d gotten the bruises and scattering of lacerations. But they hadn’t listened to Colt’s protests—ones Ice wasn’t backing up, which was shocking. Or it meant the other man was bone-deep worried even the four of them wouldn’t be enough, let alone just two.
There wasn’t time to argue. Colt had no idea where the Marshal’s drone was. Which car it had followed. And without visual, they were running blind. Were focused on gaining access so they had a chance.
Not that getting in had been extremely hard. Between the shadows and the machinery, they’d punched right through. But the damn area was a mix of tightly packed containers and buildings interspersed by wide open sections. Nothing but empty pavement they’d have to cross. Even in the dark, they’d stand out.
The group fanned out, crouching behind a group of containers. They watched for a minute, Ice making hand signals when a patrol car rolled by, flashlight haphazardly bouncing over the metal boxes.
Ice counted it down, then waved them on. Colt took off sprinting, racing across the asphalt then ducking in behind another grouping of boxes. His team followed suit, continuing on once they’d regrouped.