Five Ways to Surrender

by Elle James

  * * *

  THROUGHOUT THE MORNING, the SEALs prepared their plan of action. They coordinated with the Special Forces in a nearby camp for helicopter transportation, weapons and ammunition. The SEALs would secure a vehicle and meet up with the rest of the SEAL team that had arrived from Djibouti early that morning.

  Their commander had the drone up in the air all morning long, scouting and taking digital pictures of the area surrounding the coordinates given, expanding its surveillance to include several miles around the location.

  As soon as the drone completed its survey, the images were transmitted to Military Intelligence back at Djibouti. Within a couple of hours, several pictures were sent to T-Mac, and he downloaded them onto the laptop.

  Jake and the others hovered over the man’s shoulders as they studied the images, zooming in on one in particular.

  “That’s the mine we came across when we were in the hills,” Jake said. “Do you think Quinten Philburn might have taken Alex?”

  “If he’s worried you two might report him, he might have,” Harm said. “You’re the only two outside his organization who’ve put eyes on his operation.”

  Jake’s body tensed. Deep down, he felt this was where they’d find Alex. “We can’t wait until midnight. We need to go sooner. I’d bet my last dollar she’s there.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Buck asked.

  “My gut tells me it’s so.” His belly knotted as if in agreement.

  A bell pinged on T-Mac’s computer. He switched from the images to a screen full of data. T-Mac bent to examine the information.

  Harm shook his head. “Big Jake, we can’t base an entire operation just on your gut.”

  “There’s something else.” T-Mac held up a hand, his gaze still on the screen in front of him. “When I was looking into Snyder Mining Enterprises, and I found that they were owned by Transunion Mining Corporation and then sold to Colorado Holding Company based out of the Cayman Islands, I couldn’t get much information out of them.”

  “So,” Jake prompted.

  “I also dug into Thomas Whitley’s background. I verified that he did work for Ambassador Brightbill when they both were employed by a company whose subsidiary was Transunion Mining Corporation.”

  Jake fidgeted, too anxious about Alex to take in a long explanation. “What’s your point?” he snapped.

  “I found where Whitley had significant shares in Transunion. When it sold, he invested in another corporation.” T-Mac glanced up into Jake’s eyes. “Colorado Holding Company.”

  “Whitley?” Jake struggled to digest what T-Mac was telling him. “You think Whitley has a stake in that mining operation? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

  “I was running a program, searching for data on Whitley while we were waiting for the drone images. It finished, and that’s what I found.” He moved to the side so the others could see the screen.

  “We need to talk with the ambassador,” Harm said.

  “Forget the ambassador,” Jake said. “We need to get to the mine.”

  “One more thing...” T-Mac switched the screen back to the images and zoomed in on the coordinates Jake had been given for the rendezvous. “I wasn’t sure when we looked a minute before, but if you peer closer, those aren’t the tops of trees down there. Those are camouflage nets.” He pointed to the spot on the map. “And if you look here, that’s not a tree trunk but a man standing there.” He zoomed closer, the image getting grainier. “And he’s wearing black and holding a rifle.”

  “An ISIS fighter,” Jake said. “The coordinates are a setup. They want us to go there, knowing I wouldn’t go alone. It’s a distraction to keep us from finding Alex.”

  “And to get us all killed,” Diesel concluded.

  “What if Alex is being held there?” Pitbull asked.

  “She’s not,” Jake said with certainty.

  Harm’s lips pressed into a line. “But if you’re wrong?”

  “We plan our operation for just after sundown,” Jake said. “If we come up short of Alex, we move to the coordinates indicated in the text message.”

  Harm, Buck, Diesel, T-Mac and Pitbull nodded and replied, “Agreed.”

  T-Mac placed a video call to their commander. Jake filled him in on what was happening, and they received his agreement and commitment to support their altered plan.

  “We only have a few hours until sundown.” Jake started for the door. “Let’s get to the Spec Ops camp and meet up with the rest of the team. We need to brief them and ramp up.”

  They borrowed one of the battered vehicles they’d turned in earlier to the embassy motor pool. In less than fifteen minutes, they were racing out of Niamey into the countryside, headed for the camp where they’d meet up with the rest of the SEAL team their CO had sent to help.

  Jake counted the passing seconds, wishing they could have had the team pick them up at the airport and helicopter them out of Niamey. They could have been at the Spec Ops camp in less than an hour. As it was, they would be on the road for well over an hour and a half. He wanted to be there already, and in the air, on the way to find Alex. The minutes went by as if in slow motion.

  When they finally pulled into the camp, the place was a hive of activity. Jake, Harm, Diesel, Buck, T-Mac and Pitbull met in the ops tent with the rest of their team from Djibouti and the army Special Forces trainers from the camp and laid out the plan.

  The Special Forces guys offered to take the Niger counterparts they’d been training, pre-position them near the rendezvous coordinates and then wait until they received word from the SEAL team before moving in. With or without the SEALs, they were prepared to take out the ISIS fighters they suspected were hiding under the camouflage netting.

  With a contingent of eighteen SEALs, three Black Hawk helicopters and enough firepower to take down all of the ISIS militants who’d surprised them less than a week before, they were trained and ready for the mission.

  They had everything they needed to get in, take care of business and get out. Now all they had to do was wait until just before sundown. The flight would take less than an hour. They’d fast rope down a couple miles from the mine and go in on foot. They would be there a few hours before the midnight deadline given for the other coordinates.

  The hours ticked by slowly. Finally the SEALs loaded into the Black Hawks, the Special Forces team filled trucks and Humvees, and they took off.

  Jake’s pulse hummed a steady beat as he settled into “go” mode. He channeled all of his energy and focus on the task ahead: rescuing Alex.

  Dusk cloaked the land as the helicopters skimmed the treetops and buzzed over herds of wild animals grazing on the grass and brush.

  Jake checked and double-checked his weapons, from his HK416 assault rifle with the ten-inch barrel and suppressor to his Sig Sauer P226 handgun. He patted the Ka-Bar knife on his hip and the many extra magazines filled with ammo tucked into the straps on his bulletproof vest.

  “Here we go,” Harm said as the helicopter slowed to hover over an open patch of hillside a couple miles away from the mining compound. He was first out, fast roping to the ground.

  Jake followed, then Buck and the rest of the team.

  The other two helicopters hovered nearby, the men slipping to the ground like ghosts in the gloom.

  Once on the ground, Jake tapped his headset. “Comm check.”

  One by one the team checked in, until all eighteen of the SEALs were accounted for.

  “Let’s do this,” Jake said, and took point, leading the men up and over the first ridge. From the top, he could see lights glowing in the distance. Based on the direction, he bet they were coming from the mine. Although why they’d be running at night was beyond him. Then he noticed they weren’t lights, but flames rising into the sky.

  “You see that?” Jake said into his mic.

  Harm came t
o a halt beside him and took in the scene. “Not a good sign. Let’s get there.” He dropped over the ridge and ran down the hill.

  Jake was on his heels and easily overtook him on the way up the next rise. His calm, professional perspective had taken a hit when he’d seen the flames. He had to get to Alex. Fast.

  Chapter Seventeen

  At dusk, Alex checked out the window. Men seemed to be working feverishly. But something was different about what was happening. Instead of bringing the dirt and minerals out of the mine, bulldozers were pushing them back into the hole. Men were throwing boxes, shovels, picks and anything that wasn’t nailed down into the pit, as well. The displaced brush and trees that had been uprooted to make room for the mining pit were pushed in on top of everything else.

  What the hell was going on?

  As she watched, the guards herded the dusty, dirty, barefoot men up to the edge of the pit. Several of them had jugs in their hands. They spilled the contents into the pit over the trees and brush. One of the guards lifted a tank with a hose on it and lit a match in front of it. Then he aimed the hose at the pit and blasted a red, blue and orange stream of flame at the debris. The flame caught the accelerant and flashed into the darkening sky.

  Alex stood, transfixed by the rising flames, her heart racing.

  They were destroying the mine.

  Then the guards standing behind the conscripted workers took another step backward and raised their weapons.

  “No, they wouldn’t,” Alex whispered, her pulse leaping and a lead weight dropping in her gut. She scrambled up onto the stack of boxes she’d pushed up against the wall beneath the tiny window. She was desperate to get through the window before the horror began. She had to stop them from killing the workers and dumping them into the pit of flames.

  She pushed the narrow rectangular window up as far as the little hinge would take it. Then she turned her head sideways and pushed it through the opening.

  A guard was just disappearing around the end of the container box, pouring liquid on the side of it from what appeared to be a gasoline jug. The pungent scent of gas burned Alex’s nostrils. Then a flame blasted around the corner from the direction the guard had gone and raced toward her.

  Alex ducked her head back in, panic threatening to overwhelm her. They were lighting the container box on fire with her in it. What happened to using her as bait? What kind of bait would she be if she was dead?

  With renewed determination, Alex poked her head out of the shipping container office again and stared down at the fire licking up the side of the metal box. Surely it wouldn’t do anything to the box but burn the paint off the exterior. Whoever had poured the gasoline had forgotten the box was made of metal.

  Smoke rose from the grass around the box, filling her lungs and making her eyes sting. The box itself might not burn, but Alex had to get out before the smoke and heat consumed her. She pushed her arms and head through the opening and then shimmied her body halfway through.

  Near the edge of the mine, the guards stood with their weapons raised as if waiting for a signal from someone.

  Two men strode up to one of the guards.

  One was Philburn. Alex could tell by the man’s annoying swagger. The other was Whitley, the US ambassador’s executive officer. They must have given the guard instructions because he walked back to the other guards watching over the workers. Meanwhile Philburn and Whitley moved in the opposite direction, heading for a leveled patch of ground where a helicopter waited.

  Anger burned inside Alex, fueling her determination to free herself from the tomb of a box they intended her to die in.

  Once the gasoline had been consumed, the fire around the box died down. The rumble of heavy machinery starting up sounded nearby, followed by the clanking of a tracked vehicle moving. The shipping container office lurched, jolting as if it had been hit hard from behind. The force jerked her body and made her flap against the side of the container like a rag doll. Someone was pushing the container toward the pit.

  Alex had two choices: get out or die. She wiggled and shoved her way through, the window’s edge catching on her hips as she hung halfway out.

  With all attention focused on the guards holding the guns on the workers, no one seemed to be watching the container. The office building moved ever closer to the pit, picking up speed as it slid across the uneven ground.

  Alex grunted and cursed as she pushed and pulled herself as far as she could, until she could move no more. She needed help.

  A shadowy figure ran in front of her.

  Alex swallowed a yelp. Fariji grabbed her shoulders, braced his feet against the side of the box and pulled as hard as he could. Alex barely moved.

  “I’m stuck,” she said. “You have to go, Fariji,” she begged. “Save yourself.”

  “I won’t go without you, Miss Alex.” Walking backward as the container moved closer and closer to the pit, Fariji planted his feet on the side of the box and pulled again.

  This time, her hips slipped past the window frame and she fell to the ground on top of Fariji. They rolled sideways, away from the oncoming structure. They couldn’t seem to move fast enough to get to the other end. Fariji grabbed Alex’s arm and leaped out of the way, pulling her with him as the container was pushed over the edge and crashed into the mining pit.

  “You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you, Miss Parker?” Quinten Philburn stepped out of the darkness, a handgun pointed at Alex’s chest.

  Fariji still held on to her arm.

  “We don’t have time to deal with them,” Whitley said, and turned away. “Shoot them.” And he left his partner and walked toward the waiting helicopter.

  When Philburn shifted the barrel of the pistol toward Fariji, Alex reacted.

  She swung her leg out, hitting Philburn’s hand.

  The gun went off, but the bullet went wide instead of hitting Fariji in the chest.

  Without giving the man the chance to aim again, Alex grabbed his wrist with both hands. “Run, Fariji!”

  Her friend didn’t move. “I won’t leave without you, Miss Alex.”

  Philburn wrestled Alex for control of the handgun, his greater strength moving it to between the two of them and pressing it to her belly. When Fariji lunged forward, Philburn yelled, “Back off, or I’ll kill her.”

  Fariji raised his hands and stepped back. “Don’t kill Miss Alex. She’s a good person.”

  Philburn snorted. “I’ve had more than enough of you, Alexandria Parker. Your interference has cost me too much.”

  “You’re a cold, heartless bastard. You deserve all the bad juju you get.” Alex stared into the man’s face and spit in his eye. She closed her own and braced herself for when the gun went off.

  * * *

  JAKE REACHED THE edge of the camp first, running full on to get to Alex before something awful happened. The flames leaped high into the air, lighting the area in and around the mining pit. Dark silhouettes stood out against the bright blaze—men standing by the pit, other men carrying weapons, a commercial helicopter nearby.

  “There!” Harm pointed toward a woman with long hair struggling with a man who had something in his hand. A gun?

  Jake raced toward them, anger, fear and adrenaline pushing him faster. He came up behind the man and attempted to jerk him free of Alex. As he did so, the loud crack of a gun made him flinch and his heart come to a complete stop.

  “Alex?” he cried, staring at her in the glow of the fire.

  “I’m okay,” she said, her voice strained as she held on to the man’s wrists with both hands to keep him from shooting her.

  Running on instinct, Jake knocked the weapon out of the man’s hand and flung him to the ground.

  The man beneath him was Quinten Philburn.

  Alex grabbed the gun and took off.

  “Where are you going?” Jake asked.


  “To stop them from shooting the workers.” She waved toward the helicopter. “Don’t let that chopper get off the ground!” she yelled, heading toward the group of men near the lip of the pit.

  “Harm, take over here.” Jake leaped to his feet and raced after Alex. Was she insane? One woman with a handgun against a dozen men equipped with semiautomatic rifles didn’t bode well. “I could use some help near the pit,” he said into his mic.

  “We see the problem,” Diesel responded, “and we’re right behind you.”

  “Good.” Jake caught Alex around the waist and yanked her back from tearing after the guards.

  The SEAL team overtook Alex and Jake and raced toward the guards who had raised their weapons to their shoulders like executioners.

  Diesel, Pitbull, Buck and T-Mac pointed their rifles into the air, fired and whooped like wild men.

  The guards jerked around, saw the SEALs running straight for them and freaked out. Half of them threw down their weapons and ran. The other half turned on the SEALs, pointing their weapons at the charging fighters.

  Before the guards could fire, the team dropped to their knees and unloaded their magazines on Quinten’s men fighting back, careful not to hit the unarmed men who’d been held captive to work the mines.

  Alex struggled in Jake’s arms. “We have to stop that helicopter,” she said, then wiggled free of Jake’s hold and took off in the opposite direction toward the chopper as the rotors began to turn.

  Jake caught up to her. “Is Whitley on board?”

  “Yes,” she said, racing across the uneven terrain.

  “Stay back and let me handle it.” Jake sprinted ahead, leaving her behind as he ran toward the chopper. The wind whipped up by the helicopter blades fanned the flames in the pit, making them leap and spit giant flakes of hot ash and soot.

  As Jake reached the aircraft, it lifted off the ground.