by Shauna Allen
By satellite drone, I watched the police continue to guide people out of the church and into the parking lot.
Everything was going smoothly.
Too smoothly.
A dark, nagging feeling settled in my gut and wouldn’t let up.
I checked the entire team again as the church continued to be cleared and Dude worked with the bomb squad on the only two explosives found.
Wolf and the guys easily handled the small group of radicals that were there.
No Shadeek.
My eyes pinged from screen to screen, searching, scouring, wondering what we were missing.
Something wasn’t right.
Brianne’s words tapped at my subconscious with the subtlety of a woodpecker . . . Something’s not right. I can feel it. I’d blown her off, determined to get this mission out of the way. Could she have been right?
Tex’s voice was suddenly on my headset. “Tito.”
“Tex?” He was back home. Hearing his voice didn’t compute. He must’ve hacked his way into the comms.
“Call me on the sat phone. Now. Right now.”
Without question, I yanked off my headset and picked up the sat phone to dial.
He answered on the first ring. “He’s got her,” he said without preamble.
My stomach turned to lead. “Who?”
“Shadeek. He’s got Brianne.”
My eyes flew to the screens. “What? How do you know?”
“The White Wolf chat room we made for her back when we were trying to get her from Esteban. I never took it down. It pinged with a message just a little while ago. Just some vague gibberish from a DJPrincess1, but it was enough to get me suspicious, so I went over to her place. I’d just dropped her off, but she was gone. It didn’t feel right, so I started digging and I found a whole thread of dark web chat messages between a DJPrincess1 and Mahdi. He threatened your life and your mom and your sister if she didn’t go with him, and now she’s disappeared.”
The caveman instinct to protect my woman roared up in me so strong I nearly burst. I wanted to scream and rage and rip something or someone apart. I stood and began to pace in the small area. “Holy fuck. Can you find her? Track her somehow? Did she take her cell phone at least?”
“No, man. Looks like she left with just the clothes on her back. The only way I’ll be able to track her is if she logs back into that chat room or gets in contact some other way.”
I think I roared, I couldn’t be sure, but I crumpled into my chair.
“I’m so sorry, bro. I had to let you know. But if she was smart enough to get this message to me, I have to believe she’ll keep it up. She’ll let us know how to find her. We’ll get her back.”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t think. All I knew was that Brianne had tried to warn me that something was off, and I hadn’t listened. Again.
This mission was nothing. It was all a ploy by Shadeek to divert our attention so he could get to her. It was so clear now.
She had also chosen to put herself into danger for me and my family, and I had to do something, because none of it—nothing—would mean a thing if I lost her.
“I’m on my way,” I grit out.
“Wait, what? The op—”
I hung up on him and grabbed my duffle bag. I glanced at Bubba and the look in his eye told me he caught enough of the conversation to understand.
He tipped his head. “I’ve got this, brother.”
I nodded and stepped outside, ready to trade my career, my life, my everything for her if that’s what it came down to today.
Brianne
It was easier than I would’ve imagined to make my way out of my tiny apartment, down the now darkened walkway, through the gate, and off the base. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to the blonde girl in civvies who might be out for an evening jog as far as they knew.
My heart was pounding in my throat as I neared the street corner and the black sedan with blacked out windows came into view.
As I approached, the back door opened and a man with a pistol leaned out, his hooded eyes glinting with evil. No words were spoken. It was clear I was supposed to get in or he would kill me on the spot, no questions asked.
I thought about turning around and running, but all those photos of DeAndre and his family were burned into my brain. I had no idea how recent they were or if they were being followed right this minute, but knowing what I did about these people, I had no doubts about what they were capable of, and we were all lambs being led to the slaughter . . . at least until I found a way to put an end to it.
I slid my gaze around me, but nobody was looking, so with a deep breath, I slid into the car and slammed the door shut.
The car lurched forward, twisting my stomach into knots.
The driver didn’t acknowledge me, but the man with the gun kept his eyes trained on me like he wanted nothing more than to blow my brains out.
We moved along through the city, and I tried to pay attention to where we were going and any landmarks, but it was practically impossible with Mr. Evil Eye and his twitchy finger next to me.
“Where are you taking me?” I finally managed past my dry throat. “Am I going to meet Mr. Shadeek?”
He didn’t react. He either didn’t speak English or I was beneath a response.
Whatever. I turned my attention back out the window, wondering if Tex got my message and if DeAndre and his guys were safe. I swiped my sweaty palms down my thighs and battled back my nerves with thoughts of DeAndre as well as the reassurance that surely Shadeek had plans for me other than simply killing me. It may not be nice—these men were anything but gentlemen—but they had a use for me, which meant they had to keep me alive.
We drove for at least forty-five minutes, maybe an hour, leaving the city limits of Oceanside then San Clemente behind, and winding into some remote hills that skirted the town.
Fear slithered up my spine the farther we drove and the more desolate it became, until we finally rolled to a stop in front of a simple, non-descript house, tucked away in the hills. The only things to make it stand out from the landscape were the bright light that flooded the yard the moment we pulled in, the several satellite dishes and antennae that littered the roof, and the men strolling around the porch with machine guns.
One of them ambled over and yanked open my door. “Come,” he commanded in thick, heavily-accented English.
Evil Eyes shoved at me with the barrel of his pistol, still silent, while our driver never even looked my way.
I stepped outside onto the gravel driveway and glanced up to the starry sky, but Mr. Machine Gun grabbed my arm roughly and yanked me toward the house. “Come,” he grunted again.
I lost my footing for a second, but he didn’t slow down, and I nearly fell at his feet. I bit back my frightened tears and righted myself before I ate dirt, determined not to let these men see me as any weaker than I already was.
He shoved me inside and slammed the door, leaving me as he went back to his patrol duties.
I rubbed the bruise I could already feel forming on my arm as I took in my surroundings.
The floorplan was wide open, but there was no real furniture to speak of. Only tables pushed against every wall, covered in what must’ve been at least a dozen computers.
In what should’ve been the dining area, boxes were stacked upon boxes, all labeled as explosive munitions, most as property of the United States military.
“I’m so glad you could join us.”
My gaze flew back across the room, toward the cold, empty fireplace. There, hidden in a dark corner, nearly out of sight behind the banks of computers, was a large, leather wingback chair in the shadows.
“I’ve been anxious to meet you, Brianne Kennard.” His voice was smooth, refined. European.
I took him in as he stood and approached me slowly, with cat-like grace. He was tall, lithe. Younger than I would’ve imagined, maybe my age, not much older. His black hair was slicked back and short. His beard shorn close to the s
kin. He wore a navy-blue silk suit, crisp white shirt, pinstriped tie. Shiny leather shoes tapped on the wooden floor.
He was nothing like I would’ve expected, but a hundred times more dangerous as he took me in with intelligent, deadly eyes.
“Mustaf Al Shadeek, at your service.” He held out his hand, diamond and onyx cufflinks glinting at his wrist.
I did not move.
He let his arm drop with a small smile. “Well . . . can I offer you any refreshments? A drink perhaps? Do you need to use the facilities before we get to work?”
“Work?”
His laser-like gaze caught mine, hinting at the evil I knew lurked behind this businessman façade. “Of course. Why else did you think you were here?”
“Because you blackmailed me.”
He waved that off. “It was necessary.”
I arched a brow.
“Brianne. Please don’t think me a weak man. I will carry through on every one of those threats if you toy with me. Now, come, we don’t have much time.” He spun on his heel and strode toward one of the back rooms, giving me no choice but to follow.
I moved past another of his men, who was armed with a machine gun, and inched my way down the hall to what should’ve been the master bedroom. It was set up much like the living room, with computer terminals and equipment that must’ve cost him millions of dollars.
“Sit.” He indicated a chair at the main terminal.
I took a step then froze with a gasp when I nearly stumbled over the dead body of a man with a bullet hole between the eyes, his blank gaze staring right up at me.
“The reason you’re here,” Shadeek said, his voice cool and detached.
I glanced up, confused.
“He was unable to figure out how you’d wormed your way back into my network and close the gap. He promised me that he was better than you. He lied.”
And so he died and I was back.
I swallowed down the bile that was threatening and stepped over the man’s body to take the seat Shadeek had ready for me. The one this man had just been shot dead from.
I slid into the chair and faced the computer screens, barely able to comprehend the predicament I’d found myself in. My mind was a jumble of confusion and fear, but I fought to keep it together. For my own survival. For DeAndre. If there was any hope I could keep him and his family safe, I would do it. I would do anything.
I gently placed my hands on the keyboard, ignoring the blood splatter. “What do you want me to do?”
I felt his cold-blooded smile. “It’s easy, really. Last year, DA Arms was awarded a $580 million contract with the U.S. government to replace several thousand of their old military Glocks with 9mm Sig Sauer pistols.” I glanced over, confused at what this could possibly have to do with me and my computer hacking capabilities. He simply grinned wider. “The first shipment of ten thousand of those pistols is reaching Camp Pendleton next week.”
“And you want me to help you get them somehow?” I began to shake my head. “I can’t do that. I was on the base, yes, but I don’t know—”
He slammed a fist on the table, rocking me to silence. “Yes! You can, and you will!”
“How could I possibly do that?” Even if I wanted to help him, I didn’t have the knowledge to infiltrate military arms shipments. The man was crazier than I previously thought.
He tilted his head toward some of the machinery. “You will hack into the security police computer systems on the base. That should be easy enough for you. Then you will forge some military IDs for a few of my men to get them access to the base. They will intercept the shipment when it comes in and take care of business while you then help me arrange their sale and transport to Mikhail Kovach in Serbia.”
“I . . .” I stared down at my fingers. It probably would be easy enough. But could I do that? I knew what ‘take care of business’ really meant. There would most likely be casualties, and I would inadvertently cause the deaths of Americans. But what choice did I have? I could refuse and die right then, but then he might find another hacker to do the same thing, and he could still go after DeAndre’s family.
I began to shake as tears blurred my vision.
“What are you waiting for?” His words were ice cold, and licks of fear began to race up and down my spine.
I glanced up at him, hatred fierce and alive in my veins. “I’ll need some time and space.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “By all means.” He knelt and cuffed my ankle to the table then stood and strolled to the door. “Just don’t take too much time. We’re watching you.”
I waited until he was gone. Counted to thirty. Then, with shaking fingers, opened up two tabs. One to begin tackling the security forces network . . . one to the White Wolf chatroom.
DeAndre
I was risking about a dozen court martials for going AWOL plus several other offenses, but at this point, I couldn’t think about that. I’d managed a hurried message to the commander, but I didn’t wait for a reply, as the only thing I could focus on was getting to Brianne.
I had no idea where she was or how I was going to find her, I just knew I couldn’t sit and wait or hang around at the Sunrise Fellowship because that’s where Shadeek had led us to keep us away from her.
I knew Wolf and the rest of the guys had it well in hand, and, honestly, if the tables were turned, any of them would do the same for their women.
Their women.
Was Brianne my woman?
Yes.
The answer was loud and clear in my heart. She’d been mine since the moment we’d made love, if not well before that. I’d just been too stubborn to admit it. Now I could lose her, and that would break me. I understood now, for the first time ever, what my parents had, what my friends and their women had . . . my better half.
I had to get her back. I had to.
This was the most important mission of my life.
I’d changed channels on my headset, so I was only in contact with Tex, as I raced toward one of the trucks. “Anything, man?”
“Not yet.”
I jumped into the truck and roared the engine to life. “I’m coming to you then.”
“Yeah, okay . . .” Keys clicked on his end. “Wait a second.”
“What?” I was already racing out of the lot and barreling toward the base.
A sigh of relief. “She logged back into the chat room.”
“Is she alright?”
More keystrokes. “I don’t know. She’s not typing. I can just tell she’s live because DJPrincess1 logged in, but she’s not answering me. Maybe she can’t, but she wants me to know she’s there?”
“God.” I pressed down on the accelerator, a million horrible thoughts racing through my mind. “Come on, baby. Tell us where you are,” I mumbled.
“Something’s coming through,” Tex finally said after what seemed an eternity.
Thank God.
“What the . . .?”
“What is it?” I demanded.
He said nothing, just continued to type.
“Jesus, Tex, what? What did she say?”
“Nothing.” Silence . . . then I could feel his disbelief ringing over the line. “Tito. Stop. Turn around. She’s opened a GPS link through the chatroom. She’s giving me coordinates to her location.”
I plugged in the coordinates that Tex gave me then went dark. Alone.
This was my mission and mine alone.
As I wound my way silently up the hills behind San Clemente, I shifted into warrior mode. Beast mode. One way or another, Shadeek or I was dying, and this was ending tonight.
About a quarter-mile out from my destination, I pulled over and parked the truck under the cover of some trees and brush. I checked my weapons, screwed on my suppressor, and took out on foot, slipping from shadow to shadow, hiding from the moonlight.
I’m coming for you, baby, I whispered to her in my mind, praying she could hear me somehow . . . hoping she’d know that I would always come for her.
The house stood out like a sore thumb with its satellites and radio antennae, but it appeared quiet and desolate.
I crouched behind the cover of a tall tree and watched. Waited.
It didn’t take long to count three tangos who took regular rounds of the outer perimeter and were lazy as hell, not truly watching their six. My equipment showed four heat signatures inside—one of which had to be Brianne.
I slid to nine o’clock and waited some more behind another tree.
On his round, I yanked tango number one back by the neck, slid a knife up into his ribs then sliced his throat. Nice and quiet. He slumped to the ground at my feet, and I kicked him aside.
Number two came around about three minutes later, saw his friend, and when he opened his mouth to sound the alert, I double-tapped him, one shot in the head, one in the chest, dropping him where he stood before he made a peep.
I crept to seven o’clock and knelt by a large boulder that was on the property. Tango number three came moseying by, looking for his buddies. He called out. When they didn’t answer, he hurried over. I took out my knife and tossed it, hitting him square center mass. His eyes went wide as he stared down at my knife, then he dropped to his knees before rolling to his side.
I raced over and retrieved my knife, wiped his blood on his shirt, and re-sheathed it.
I hid in the shadows, making sure there were no other hostiles I’d missed.
Not a sound.
Inside the house, all was quiet, other than the occasional sound of male voices. There was only soft lamplight spilling from a few windows.
I circled the house, taking inventory of every door and window, as well as the surrounding landscape. Recon was what I did, but I didn’t have time for a full recon mission. What I did know was that I had to do something, but I was alone, and Brianne was trapped inside.
