by Tl Reeve
“What’s this?” He pointed to the smaller screen.
“We think it is the interior of the building where Mateo is being kept. If we’re right, when Scotty is done analyzing the photos, we’ll have the address,” AJ said.
“How did you do that so fast?” Noah said, mystified by their efficiency.
“We’re just that good.” A hint of cockiness filled her tone. “Scotty has more hours logged than I do. But, we’re about the same level.”
“What’s your skill set?” Noah asked.
“Tracking and cell pinging,” she answered. “You want the complex; Scotty is the man.”
Noah didn’t miss the sense of awe in her voice or the way she watched her partner work. He absently wondered if maybe she had a crush on Scotty or if they were a couple.
Scotty tapped her hand. I’ve narrowed it down to two addresses. One is on the East side, and one is on the West side. Scotty clicked a few keys then clapped. Bingo. I know where Mateo is. He pulled up the exterior of a brick four-story abandoned warehouse. The windows had been covered by black plastic. On the roof was a large For Lease sign. Scotty pointed to the interior of the building where Mateo had been staged for the ransom then to one that looked exactly like it in a smaller frame beside it. See the painted wall? Scotty expanded the picture, so it was easier to see.
Noah did. An inscription or something had been written in white paint. He couldn’t make out exactly what it said, but it’d been in both places. “Good job.”
“Scotty, AJ, thank you,” Asher said. “Time for a meeting. I’ll grab Rae and Franks and meet all of you in the conference room in fifteen. Let’s get to work, boys and girl.”
Chapter 2
Noah stood inside the underground garage smoking one of his signature Nat Sherman cigarettes' he had special ordered and shipped directly R.O.O.T headquarters because his husband was unaware he still continued with his bad habit. Mateo had been under the assumption he had given up the nasty habit just months before they married.
That was a lie. He hadn’t but had. When he got stressed, which was often, because of the nature of the job they all did, he smoked. However, Noah made damn sure he got his daily intake prior to going home or seeing his husband. He kept a stash of mouth wash, breath mints, and cologne tucked in the back of his truck, hidden so Mateo would never find it.
Noah took another hard puff of the cigarette before snubbing it out in disgust and throwing it into the container designated for butts. As always, he felt the heady mix of nicotine hit his bloodstream, although this time it was mixed with gut-churning guilt. Fuck, even when he should feel the edge leaching off of him, the feeling of being helpless crept in at the corners.
He glanced at the pack of cigarettes in his hands and he was tempted to light another one, even though he’d never been a chain smoker. Damn it.
“Thought you gave them up,” Asher said.
Noah snorted. “Yeah... Me, too.”
He wasn't surprised the other man had sought him out. Asher wouldn't be an effective leader or a good one if he didn't worry about him or the rest of his team. He didn't need to concern himself with Noah at the moment, though. In all reality, his boss should be concerned about the motherfucker who took Mateo. When, not if, he got his hands on the bastard, Noah was going to choke the shit out of the person or persons.
“We’re going to get him back,” Asher assured him.
Noah nodded.
“We need to get moving, otherwise we’re going to be late for the meeting.”
“Yeah,” Noah replied, stuffing his smokes into pants’ pocket before he followed Asher back into the compound.
They didn’t talk as they made their way through the base. Nothing needed to be said. Noah understood he’d fucked up leaving Mateo out in the open. He realized the ramifications of not telling Mateo the truth. A few simple lies strung precariously together could end up sinking his marriage. Whatever happened next, he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to Mateo.
As they stepped back into C&C, Rae was waiting for them. “Give them to me.” She held out her hand, wiggling her fingers.
“What?”
She cocked a brow at him, staring at him until he reached in his pocket and removed the green box and placed it in her hand. Like Asher, Noah wasn’t any better at not giving in to the little minx’s demands.
Noah groaned when she crushed the almost full box in her dainty hands. There went ten bucks, right out the window. “Damnit, Rae, they help relax me.” He clenched his jaw, reminding himself it was Rae. Sweet Rae who worried and looked out for the ragged group of men that reported to her fiancé.
Rae snorted. “They do anything but relax you, Noah. Trust me on this.”
Noah shrugged before he admitted, “Needed something to do with my fingers and to take my mind off the fact that my husband is missing.”
O’Malley who had strolled in right after they had arrived chuckled. “Doubt it. It’s more like an oral fixation. You need something to do with that mouth of yours.”
“Fuck off, O’Malley,” Noah snarled, barely holding onto his control.
Sure, punching O’Malley would feel good. It would even be worth the ass reaming Asher would give him for beating the shit out the Second in Charge of R.O.O.T. However, along with the chewing out would come the suspension or worse, being kicked off the team for good. Noah swallowed down the ball of rage building within him. For now, he’d keep his mouth shut. Later, when Mateo was safe, he’d go a few rounds with O’Malley.
“Try something else,” Rae suggested, unaware of the turmoil raging inside of his gut. “Gum, Tootsie pops, suckers, jawbreakers, or even sunflower or pumpkin seeds for cripes sake. No more smoking.”
“If you all are done babying Noah, we got shit to do.” Asher stood behind the massive conference table near the large screen on the wall. Schematics of the warehouse were already up on the wall, and Asher had been busy making notes with the stylus pen connected to one of the computers since he had come in.
Damn, Scotty is good. He might even give Murray a run for his money.
For the next twenty minutes, they worked out a semblance of a plan Noah could be happy with. Hell, even if Asher told them to get in, get Mateo, and get out, he'd be happy. His sole focus had been his husband, nothing more. Nothing less.
His leg bounced under the table almost non-stop while he twirled his pencil between his fingers. A nervous twitch he realized was irritating, but right then, he didn't give a shit. The anxious energy coursing through him needed to be released somehow. He expected one of his teammates to call him out, yet surprisingly, none of them said a fucking word about it. Maybe they were worried he'd rip their heads off. He snorted internally. Damn right, he would.
He’d raze the earth if it came down to it. He would show whoever decided to blackmail him and take the love of his life. For him, this would never be just another mission. He also realized, sitting there, he hadn’t done a good job compartmentalizing his feelings. He was too close to the mission. Too invested. Still, no way in hell he’d stay behind while everyone else went to save Mateo.
“Noah,” Asher said, pulling Noah from his thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“You with us?” Asher tilted his head to the side.
Noah glance around the room. Everyone at the table watched him the same way Asher had. Shit. He hadn’t been paying attention. They all knew it, and, if he went by the expression on Asher’s face, he must’ve missed something fucking important. Damn it.
“Uh, yeah. I am.” No, you’re not. He’d been a hot fucking mess. Even though he thought he appeared cool, calm, and collected outwardly, it seemed he was anything but. He glanced back over at Asher and frowned.
“Really?” Asher cocked a brow. “You sure about that? Because I just informed the team you wouldn’t be in on the breach of the warehouse, and you didn’t even react.”
Noah shrugged and proceeded to continue to lie his ass off even knowing he wasn’t
hiding jack shit from his team. “Just figured I’d be your eye in the sky, boss. Like I always am.” It made sense. Him going in on breach would be a bad thing. He’d be too distracted. Getting to Mateo without him being hurt, might cause others to be injured in the process. No, if anything, he understood his position within the team.
Asher had to have realized his assessments were true. Anything Noah did at the moment came with consequences as well. If he did too much damage to the kidnapper, he could also be brought up on charges. If he killed the guy before they had answers, whoever came after Mateo and him, could flee, leaving them holding their dicks. Plus, Noah was R.O.O.T’s best sniper. Putting him in the mix didn’t make a lick of sense. His job was to protect their unit from above. Taking out the enemy as they either attempted to flee or while trying to ambush their team. It was a job he took seriously and excelled at.
“This is a fucking bad idea, Asher,” O'Malley grumbled. The amount of censure in his voice knocked Noah for a loop. “I told you, Noah's not focused, and he's too involved in this shit. He's a liability. I'm going to recommend again; he remains behind and monitors the mission through C&C.”
Noah shook his head in disbelief. Not once since the inception of R.O.O.T had he ever given cause for his team not to trust him, or assume he'd be compromised. Sure, this mission involved his husband, but Mateo being kidnapped didn't mean he'd fuck over his team or their safety just to get to his lover. Fuck that shit sideways.
Asher slammed his hands down on the table. “Lis—”
Callahan cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Have a fuckin’ heart, O’Malley.” Callahan, like Noah, was a former Navy SEAL and their team’s communication/linguistics expert. Callahan knew, better than anyone in the room, the hell Noah had experienced in SEAL training. “Anyone of us would react the same way Noah is if a spouse or significant other was taken.”
“Yeah.” Alex Schoell’s southern drawl was thick with irritation. Schoell, at one time, had been an Army EOD expert and was currently their weapon expert. “I’d be more fucking worried if he had his shit together. Noah’s going to be fine, and his training will kick in once we gear up.”
“Noah is sitting right fucking here, assholes,” he said, as a reminder.
“And your point?” O’Malley quipped.
Frustration and worry finally overrode the control he had on his temper. He stood abruptly, pushing the chair so hard, it slammed into the wall with a clatter. Asher stepped between them, pressing his hand to Noah’s chest before he could pound the shit out of O’Malley for being a fuckwad.
“Sit down, Noah,” Asher ordered.
One look, and Noah knew Asher meant business. His face was devoid of any emotion, and his eyes were cold. Commander Asher had replaced affable Asher, and arguing with him would be pointless. In fact, it’d just waste more time. Time they all knew Mateo didn’t have.
Noah nodded, glaring at O’Malley while snatching up his chair, and ignoring the new dents in the drywall.
“Stop antagonizing him,” Asher warned O’Malley.
“He needs to focus,” O’Malley stated.
“Fuck off, asshole,” Callahan and Schoell said at the same time.
Rae, who’d been oddly quiet through everything, finally spoke. “Wow, you can really feel the love in this room.”
Asher glanced down at his watch. “Nightfall is in two hours. That’s when we’ll leave. According to the weather service, it’ll be a cloudy night. Franks and I will take point.” Asher looked at Noah. “You want to be eyes in the sky, or do you want Callahan to do it?”
Noah blinked, surprised by the question. Asher was a brilliant strategist, planning their mission down to the second. Their commander was also known for having a plan B, C, D, and sometimes E in place just in case. The rest of the team, except for that prick O’Malley, never gave input. That was how confident they were in Asher’s plans.
“I’m not you, Noah,” Callahan admitted. “But I can handle it.”
Noah nodded. Callahan had gone through the same BUD/s training he had. Except Noah been sought after almost immediately for how accurate he was with a gun. When they put the sniper rifle into his hands the first time, Noah felt something he’d rarely experienced in his life, a sense of calm. The only other time he experienced it had been when he was with Mateo. It’s how he knew Mateo was the one for him.
Noah realized not everyone could look through a scope and pull the trigger, snuffing out a human life. He could. So could Drew. The man was often back up for Noah when they went to any of the non-English-speaking countries. Noah trusted his entire team with his life, but he only trusted Callahan with Mateo's while in the nest.
“Let Callahan be eyes in the sky,” Noah said. The idea of sitting back watching while everyone else went in, rotted a hole in his gut. If Mateo freaked out when the team made entry, he had to be there to calm his husband down.
Asher acknowledged his request before he turned back to the screen where a satellite image of the street now glowed green due to night vision. “Then it’s settled. Callahan will be our eyes and ears from here.” He circled a smaller building, approximately 250 meters away from where Mateo was being held, with stylus pencil. “We’ll go in here.” He placed an X on what looked like an unused back door.
“It’s been jerry-rigged with grade 30 zinc-plated proof coil chain,” AJ added while Scotty zoomed in on the door in question.
Sure, enough it was. “How the fuck?”
AJ grinned. “A girl has her secrets.”
“I’ll make a note to pack our bolt cutters,” Franks advised, getting them back on track.
Asher’s gaze flickered to Scotty. “Pull up the infrared.”
AJ signed the instructions and within seconds, the images Asher requested flashed up the screen next to the warehouse’s images. There were two heat indicators. One wasn’t moving, the other looked like it was. The solitary unmoving blob of red, he hoped was Mateo. Though his heat signature was strong, it didn’t mean anything. For all he and the team knew, Mateo had been injured to keep him from moving.
Asher approached the screen where Noah suspected Mateo sat. “Looks like he’s being held in the far back room. According to the blueprints, it has only one entrance and exit point—the door off this back hallway.”
“Any questions?” the sour puss O’Malley inquired.
The room was silent.
It was now or never.
“Boss, I want to record the message,” Noah said.
Asher frowned. “Why?”
“What if we have the wrong place?”
AJ snorted in disbelief while signing their conversation.
Scotty huffed loudly. Bullshit.
“Not possible,” Asher added.
“It’s always possible, boss. If you’ve taught me anything, it’s to always have a backup plan. This” – he knocked on the table with his knuckles— “is my back up plan.”
“Let me get this straight... You want to give this motherfucker, who took your spouse, exactly what he wants?” O’Malley looked at Asher in shock. “He’s off his fucking rocker. We have the infrared showing him in the building.”
Noah snorted. One day, he was going to deck O'Malley, 2IC or not, and he'd happily deal with whatever punishment Asher doled out to him. “That doesn't mean jack shit. It could be a lonely security guard who brings his dog to work, and it's the dog in the back taking a nap. We've been through this shit way too many times to believe it'll be an easy in and out case. I'd rather have my shit in place than be fucked over by some asshole who's playing games.”
Asher rubbed at the scruff on his chin. “Even if we miscalculated, we still have plenty of time to recover. Whoever took Mateo has some semblance of what we do, but not the full scope.”
“How do you figure?” Franks inquired.
Noah snorted. He’d give one of the newer members of their team a break. Franks, although a great soldier, was still a medic. “Seventy-two hours in our hands is like,
I don’t know, maybe a month for some normal Joe.”
“Very true,” Schoell said.
Callahan and even that fucker O’Malley nodded in agreement.
“Why?” Asher asked again.
“Because I feel like giving this asshole a little taste of how R.O.O.T responds to dick wads who come after our own,” Noah snarled.
“So, you want to send a message?” Asher inquired.
Noah nodded.
Asher stared at him for a long moment before agreeing. “Get it done before wheels up, which is in.” Asher glanced down at his watch. “One hour and forty. We’ll be taking the Ghost.”
Schoell gave a low whistle. “Lucky bastards.”
Everyone had been dying to get their hands on the military’s latest and greatest. Ghost, a stealth helicopter currently on loan from the Military, was a prototype based off the Blackhawk, only quieter. Apparently, they’d done such a great job of fucking up Senator Lincoln’s illegal shit, the government gave them the little beauty for the next year to run it through its paces before delivering it to the entire armed forces for combat duty.
The bird had rolled in under the cover of night a week ago. This mission would be the first time they got a chance to use it. The time DoD took to perfect the blades’ near silence hovering ability, plus being able to cut through the sky at a high rate of speed without chatter or being detected on radar, gave Noah and the rest of the team an equipment chubby.
For this mission, they’d be dropped off right at the back door of the warehouse where Mateo was being held. The asshole wouldn’t have a clue they’d arrived until all three of them had their laser pointers locked on the bastard’s head. Too bad they needed him alive. Blowing the fucker’s head off would be a mercy kill in Noah’s book.
“Will do, boss.” He hoped the impatient edge he’d been riding wasn’t reflected in his voice. Pissing off Asher before the beginning of a mission didn’t bode well for anyone, especially Noah.
