They heard a loud grinding. Jackie and Zack both made faces at the sound. It wasn’t good.
“What was that?” Jackie demanded.
“Ah, nothing,” Gil informed her. “Just the rotor catching a stray bullet. What’s your twenty?”
“About ten minutes from you, if I put the pedal to the metal,” she announced with concern. “Can you hold out that long?”
“Don’t really have much choice, do I?” Gil reported over the radio with little emotion.
Jackie was already feeling her concern for her team rising. Zack lunged away from the open pilot’s door and stopped fueling the helicopter. As he bolted into the back of the aircraft, Holden approached from the terminal with some bottled water and saw Jackie prepping the craft. He picked up the pace and hurried for them.
“Something happening?” Holden asked, sharing their concern.
Without warning, Zack grabbed Holden’s arm and pulled him into the back with him. The bottles of water flew across the back of the helicopter. As Holden crashed into one of the rear seats, Zack shut the side door with added vigor.
Chapter 6
As Jackie’s helicopter approached Gil’s location, she could see the mansion surrounded by woods and fields in the near distance. The familiar, faint rat-tat-tatting of gunfire could be heard even above the sound of the helicopter. Jackie slowed her approach when she saw another aircraft not far from her emitting smoke and rapidly descending. Concern swept over her. It was Gil’s helicopter! Zack removed two automatic rifles from a hidden compartment and handed one to Holden. Holden accepted the weapon with some uncertainty. The team was in trouble, but he had no idea who they were fighting. As a federal agent, he couldn’t just blindly jump into a firefight without knowing the whole story. Jackie watched Gil’s helicopter successfully land in the nearby clearing. She was grateful he was able to land and didn’t crash as she feared he might have.
Jackie flipped a switch enabling her radio. “Eagle One, you copy?” she announced.
“Yeah, I copy, Reaper,” Gil replied over her headset. “You’re about to enter the war zone. Ross is joining in on foot while I do a quick patch job on my old girl. Team one is pinned down toward the rear of the house. Team two made it out the front and are attempting to draw some of the fire away from team one.”
“Bogart really stepped in it this time, huh?” Jackie remarked to Gil.
Jackie knew her brother, Bogart, was a capable and crafty son-of-a-bitch, but he was really good at backing himself into corners, particularly when there were pretty women involved. It was his biggest weakness.
“Actually, your brother needed to rescue his rescue party,” Gil responded over the radio.
Jackie could hear Ross in the background, shouting orders above the helicopter engine.
Gil maintained his usual calm demeanor despite the desperate situation. “We’re looking at about thirty armed men,” he casually announced, revealing far less emotion than Ross in the background. “Naturally, most of them are wanting a piece of your brother. Harris and the fed brigade are about thirty minutes out.”
Ross was again heard in the background before coming on the radio. “Jackie, Ross here,” he announced. “Please tell me you brought your fed boy toy with you.”
Jackie groaned at the comment and then eyed Holden, who was listening in on his own headset. Jackie shook her head. The guys loved Holden, but they also enjoyed picking on him.
“Yes, Holden is with us,” she replied.
“Good,” Ross responded, then seemed to hesitate. “The guys are reporting in. Hold your position.”
Jackie veered the craft and away from the danger zone and hovered a moment while Zack slipped into his nylon harness. Ross returned to the radio.
“Have Holden symbolically flash his badge from your position,” Ross informed her over the radio.
Holden paid closer attention to the words coming over his headset and appeared curious about his involvement.
“Harris will back us up. He’s given Holden the green light to intervene on behalf of the Bureau,” Ross continued over the radio. “We’ll finish tenderizing these bastards just enough for the feds' arrival.”
Jackie glanced back at Holden, flipped a switch on the main console, and then pointed at him, indicating he was broadcasting live over the loudspeaker.
Holden flinched then straightened, taking his cue. “This is the FBI,” he announced loud and bold, which projected from the speakers outside the craft. “We have you surrounded. Ceasefire and lay down your weapons.” It wasn’t much of a surprise when the firing was still heard. “I repeat. This is the FBI. Ceasefire and lay down your weapons!”
Jackie threw the switch, cutting Holden’s microphone. It was a symbolic gesture at best. The bad guys weren’t simply going to surrender because of a federal agent’s presence, but the team needed to follow protocol in order for Harris to clean up the mess.
Zack fastened his harness, eyed Holden, and grinned slyly. “You certainly showed them,” he announced, then handed Holden a nylon harness.
Holden accepted the harness, eyed it, and then looked back at Zack. “I’m not jumping from a moving helicopter.”
“We’re not moving,” Zack insisted with little emotion. “We’re hovering. You’re needed on the ground.”
“I won’t be properly identified,” Holden informed him. “I don’t want my own men shooting me by accident.”
Zack removed a black, official FBI bulletproof vest from the secret compartment and extended it to Holden. He eyed the vest then glared at Zack.
“Did you steal this from my car?” Holden demanded.
“Not important,” Zack replied and removed his headset, tossing it aside. “Gear up!”
Holden cursed at Zack under his breath, removed his headset, and then slipped into the vest. Zack handed him the nylon harness. Holden eyed the harness, groaned, and snatched it from him. Jackie took the helicopter in a wide circle away from the gunfire, then lowered just above the wooded area between Gil’s helicopter and the mansion. Zack pulled open the side door, increasing the loudness of the helicopter rotors. He and Holden slung their rifles over their shoulders and attached the cables to their harnesses.
“Ready?” Zack called out above the loud noise of the helicopter as it hovered.
“Not really,” Holden muttered while nervously eyeing the open side door and the ground below. It was a long drop, particularly for someone who wasn’t used to jumping out of helicopters.
Zack tossed the ends of the cables out the open side door then grinned at Holden. “Last one on the ground buys the first round,” Zack announced, then jumped backward out of the helicopter, sliding down his cable.
Holden groaned and eyed Jackie, who now watched him with a tiny, tense smile.
“Good luck,” she announced.
Holden managed a smile, blew her a kiss, and then held his breath while stepping backward out the open doorway. Jackie managed a tiny cringe, hoping Holden wasn’t just showing off for her benefit. Outside the helicopter, Zack reached the forest floor first and detached the cable from his harness. Holden slid down the cable reasonably fast, not putting enough pressure on the clamp, and didn’t slow much while heading for the ground near Zack. Zack watched Holden botch the landing and crash to the ground, landing on his backside.
Holden groaned from where he sat on the ground and rubbed his backside, “That’s going to hurt in the morning.”
“You could have slowed your descent a little more,” Zack informed him while extending his hand to him. “You didn’t need to show off on my account.”
Holden glared at Zack then grabbed his extended hand, allowing Zack to help him to his feet. Zack unhooked Holden’s harness and motioned for Jackie to leave. The helicopter flew away with its trailing cables. Both men slipped out of their harnesses, discarded them, and unslung their weapons. They hurried through the woods toward the sounds of gunfire.
§
Bogart and Monroe ran across the bac
k patio, remaining out of sight, and threw their backs against the wall. Gunfire could still be heard coming from several directions, although the noise had decreased since Gil’s helicopter went down. Both men were panting heavily while taking a two-minute break from the action.
“Are you sure about this?” Monroe asked while scanning the area for a possible ambush.
“Not one hundred percent,” Bogart remarked as they moved closer to the nearby glass doors. “I saw Reeves accessing a wall safe on the security cameras last night. He put a flash drive in the safe. That has to be the one we’re looking for.”
“Last night?” Monroe asked while briefly glaring at the man alongside him before resuming his watch of the area around them. “Maybe you should have spent a little less time banging the crime lord’s daughter last night and a little more time breaking into his office, then we wouldn’t be here trying to break back into the house we just escaped.”
Bogart cast a disappointed look at Monroe. “I can’t figure out if you’re jealous or just cranky,” he remarked.
“Both. Not that this hasn’t been fun,” Monroe announced while keeping his weapon aimed across the grounds, “but I think it’s time we get what we came for and amscray before the feds arrive.”
“The feds have arrived,” Bogart corrected.
“Holden doesn’t count,” Monroe insisted. “Let’s just get the damned flash drive and get out of here.”
Bogart moved closer to the French glass doors and glanced through them into the study. Thankfully, the room was unguarded.
“I’m working on it,” Bogart informed him as he removed his lock pick kit and began manipulating the lock. “It’s not as if I have a key to get inside, you know. That state-of-the-art lock on the study door is pick proof.”
Monroe eyed Bogart, who didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with the lock. “Just break the glass,” he finally groaned.
“It’s shatterproof,” Bogart snapped back with some irritation. “I’ve done my homework during the six weeks while I was here.”
Someone stepped in front of the glass doors within the study. Bogart looked up with surprise, realizing they’d been spotted. Zoey stood on the other side of the glass within the study and stared at him with a strange look of fear and confusion on her face.
Bogart’s expression dropped. “Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered.
Monroe glanced at the door and saw the young woman as well. He was about to comment when she unlocked the door and took a step back. Bogart and Monroe exchanged quick, bewildered glances. Bogart cautiously opened the door and stepped into the study without taking his eyes off Zoey. He kept the rifle in his hands but didn’t aim the weapon at the confused and frightened young woman. Monroe slipped in behind Bogart and kept an eye outside as well as on the unfolding scene within the study.
“Why did you unlock the door?” Bogart asked with some surprise. “You know your father’s men are after us.”
Zoey stared at him a moment and almost seemed to relax. “My father’s a bad man,” she informed him, then shook her head. “No matter who or what you are, you have to be the lesser of the two evils.”
“I’m sorry, Zoey,” Bogart announced, then slipped past her and approached a large painting on the wall behind the desk. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved, but we need to get what we came for.” He pulled the painting away from the wall to expose the safe and briefly glanced at her. “You shouldn’t be down here. It’s not safe.” Bogart slung his rifle over his shoulder then nodded to the nearby bookcase. “Hide in the study panic room until this is all over.”
Zoey didn’t take her eyes off him while showing little reaction to his comment. She then indicated the safe. “I can open that.”
Bogart and Monroe stared at the young woman with astonishment.
“You’d do that?” Bogart asked with some surprise. “You’d help us?”
“All those gunshots outside,” she informed him, “that’s the sound of freedom. I’ll finally be free from my father and his corruption.”
Zoey moved past him and easily opened the digital safe. When the lock beeped, she stood aside. Bogart opened the safe to reveal cash, jewelry, and other valuable papers. Bogart tossed the money and the jewelry from the safe and found the flash drive.
“That’s what you came for?” Zoey asked with surprise and eyed the money and jewelry strewn across the floor.
“That’s what we came for,” Bogart informed her, then placed the device in his pocket. “You need to get inside the panic room. The feds will be storming the place soon. You’ll be safe there until they arrive. Ask for Agent Blake Harris. You can trust him.”
Zoey nodded, then quickly kissed Bogart. She backed away from him and headed for the nearby bookcase. She pulled on one of the books, and the bookcase popped away from the wall, revealing a doorway. She disappeared inside. A steel door slammed shut, and the bookcase slowly slid back into place, covering the entrance. Monroe looked back outside. A man suddenly appeared with his weapon aimed. Monroe raised his rifle as a gunshot rang out, startling him. The man was suddenly thrown to the ground from the shot. Bogart and Monroe’s leader, Ross, stood in the doorway with a rifle in his hand. Ross Madrid was a handsome, distinguished gentleman in his early fifties with a full head of mostly graying hair. His piercing blue eyes and charming smile made him seem approachable and almost refined, but most never knew the calculating genius hidden behind his smile. Despite his age, he was in excellent physical shape with enough hidden muscle mass and stamina behind him to put much younger men to shame.
“Did you get it?” Ross asked.
“Yeah, we got it,” Bogart replied as he joined them then handed the flash drive to his boss.
“That just leaves one more minor task,” Ross announced.
“Reeves won’t be easy to find,” Bogart insisted.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Ross informed him. “Kirk and Beck are out front. No one left the estate grounds. Find him before Harris and his men arrive.”
“He’s probably in the basement,” Bogart informed him. “It’s the second safest place in the mansion.”
“Where’s the first?” Ross asked.
Bogart nodded to the nearby bookcase against the wall.
“Panic room?” Ross asked.
Bogart again nodded. “He’s not in there,” he remarked. “His daughter accessed it. She was the only one in there.”
“You two find Reeves,” Ross announced, then indicated the flash drive before stuffing it into his pocket. “I need to get this to Beck. We don’t want the FBI having access to all our private information.”
“We’re on it,” Monroe replied.
Ross hurried out the French doors to the back patio while contacting Beck over his ear transmitter.
§
Jackie circled the large clearing just a stone’s throw from the action on the estate grounds. She could see Gil’s disabled helicopter in the field, but she didn’t see any sign of Gil. Although it was possible he was captured, she sort of doubted it. Jackie took her helicopter down and landed not far from Gil’s helicopter. She flipped a few switches then swiftly removed her semiautomatic from her hidden shoulder holster. Jackie threw open the helicopter door and aimed her weapon, searching for any signs of armed guards. Her teammate, Gil, appeared from behind his helicopter with a rifle slung over his shoulder and a semiautomatic in his hand.
“Nice of you to have my back,” Gil announced, genuinely happy to see her.
Gil Rafferty was on the upper end of thirty, if not in his early forties. His short dark hair was peppered with gray, making his age difficult to tell, and giving the handsome man a moderately distinguished look. He stood almost six-foot-tall with an athletic build. His dark eyes were soft and kind, offsetting his somewhat serious look, making him difficult to read. Gil replaced his gun and returned to his helicopter’s already open engine compartment. He quickly began working on fixing the problem created by several bullets. Jackie snatched her rif
le from the aircraft and took a lookout position so Gil could repair his helicopter without fear of being shot. A large German shepherd dog wearing a black bulletproof vest ran from the woods for her.
Jackie saw the dog and appeared relieved. “This is no time to be marking territory, Darth,” she reprimanded the dog.
Gil’s silver sable German shepherd, Darth, had a mostly black face and a slightly sloped back for that show dog appearance. He weighed close to one-hundred-twenty pounds of mostly muscle. With his tongue hanging partway out, he seemed happy and friendly, which was mostly true, but there was another side to the working dog. The serious former guard dog turned special ops. Despite the dog checking her out, Jackie kept watch on the nearby woods even though Darth would notice someone approaching long before she did.
“Can you fix it?” Jackie asked Gil in concern without taking her eyes off the area surrounding them.
“Yeah,” Gil replied. “A little duct tape will do the trick. Well, temporarily.”
“Duct tape is the only thing holding that piece of shit together,” Jackie announced with a tiny, humored smirk. Taking cheap shots at Gil’s old, battle-worn helicopter had become their new thing.
Gil cast a stern glare at her profile. “Some of us don’t spend every dime on new toys, Jackie,” he scoffed, then resumed working with his roll of duct tape, tearing a strip off with his teeth. “Not all of us have sugar daddies to put a roof over our heads.”
“In what world is Holden a sugar daddy?” she demanded without looking at him. “But if you really want to play that game, I suppose that makes you Beck’s bitch.”
Gil hesitated, then glanced at Jackie while raising a cocky brow. “Kind of rude,” he remarked then shrugged, “but I’ll give you that one.”
Jackie smirked and laughed. It was kind of true. Gil spent most of his time at the lodge in the Colorado Mountains with a few of his teammates. Beck and his wife, Pinto, were permanent residents at the lodge, while Kirk, Zack, Bogart, Gil, and Monroe split their time between various houses and the lodge. Ross spent most of his time at his own farm, only a few miles from the lodge, with his wife, brother-in-law, and niece. Monroe was the only one of the lodge group that owned his own home, although he seemed to spend more and more time at the lodge these days. Zack and Bogart spent almost as much time at Jackie’s home now as they did at the lodge, while Gil occasionally split his time between the lodge and his ex-wife’s home in Virginia. No one knew for sure how many times Gil and his wife had divorced and remarried. Honestly, they’d stop keeping track.
Witness Protection 9: S.N.A.F.U. Page 5
