John (The 13 Book 5)

by Anne L. Parks

  “But why?” she asked.

  “So when they grow up, and apply for jobs that require a security clearance, there is no tie back to Russia,” Riley explained. “Your ex works at Raytheon, correct?”

  “Yes,” Charlee answered. “He works on a government contract.”

  Charlee looked through the window at her son sitting in the conference room under the watchful eye of Tink. “So, are you telling me my ex is the leader of a Russian terrorist organization and is trying to recruit my son?”

  Riley nodded. “Intel shows this is the next gen of up-and-coming RRA. First gen was getting babies adopted to US citizens. Second gen is the offspring. They are recruited in much the same way as first gen. They are not approached until they get into high school. Then they are slowly induced to become members.”

  “But how?” Charlee asked. “Why would they turn their backs on their own country?”

  “Some are disheartened by the way they are treated by classmates, and are brainwashed into thinking it is the country’s fault that there are bullies—that the policies and way of life here breeds and glorifies that type of treatment.”

  “Some just want to be a part of something bigger than themselves. The RRA tells them they are heroes back in Russia, and they believe them.” Riley’s tone softened. “And some are like your son—sucked into it through a false sense of family duty.”

  Flaherty stepped into the office and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir, but I found something I think you should see. I’ve got it cued up on the screen in the ward room.”

  The group followed Flaherty into a room that contained couches and a large TV screen. “I found what appears to be a a schematic of a building.” He walked up to the screen and pointed at out some circles on the blueprint. “This appears to be a building with many rooms, along with what appears to be a gym and an auditorium.”

  “A school?” Riley asked.

  “That’s what I surmise,” Flaherty said.

  “And the circles?” Lance asked.

  Flaherty released a heavy breath. “The legend shows they are C-4.”

  Icy rage flooded John’s veins. “Are you telling me they are planning on blowing up a school?”

  “It appears so, sir.”

  “Which school?” Lance asked. “And when?”

  “I’m not sure,” Flaherty said. “There are no names or dates on this plan. I looked through the files, but didn’t find anything.”

  “Go back through them,” John said. “We have to know which school they are targeting and when.”

  “It must be a local school,” Riley said.

  “What makes you think that?” Lance asked.

  “Because they are planning on setting of the charges today.” Riley looked at John. “That’s why Connor needed a change of clothes into something that was completely unlike anything he normally wears.”

  Charlee whirled around, taking John by surprise. She had been so quiet, he almost forgot she was there. “You think Connor is involved in this?”

  “The plans are on his computer, and his dad is most likely the mastermind. There is every reason to believe he is involved,” Riley said.

  Charlee walked out of the room before John could stop her. By the time he caught up with her, she had flung the door of the conference room open. It shook the walls, surprising both Mason and Connor.

  Charlee’s was stone-faced. “Connor Anthony Finch, if you know anything about a school bombing today, you better start talking now—starting with where and when.”

  Connor dropped his gaze to his feet. “I can’t do that.”

  “You can and you will.” Her voice reverberated off the glass walls. “What the hell are you thinking? Why would you do this, Connor?”

  “This is bigger than me. This is bigger than all of us. I have the opportunity to make a difference. To forward a cause and prevent the gluttony of this society be a further drain on this society.”

  “By killing innocent people?”

  “Collateral damage,” he said. “Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t.” She inhaled deeply and held her breath for a moment. John would’ve bet money she was counting to ten before she spoke again. She dropped to her knees in front of her son and took his hands in hers. “Connor, there is no cause made greater by killing innocent children. How can you possibly justify that?”

  Connor’s head dropped to his chest. Charlee placed her hand on his cheek. “Please tell me which school you plan to bomb.”

  “It’s too late, Mom,” Connor said, his voice thick with emotion. “Dad’s already set the explosives. They are on a timer.”

  “Which school, son?” John asked.

  Connor wiped the tears from his face and looked at John. “Brighton Elementary.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charlee stood outside the school, scanning the area, looking for any sign of her ex-husband. It had taken a fair bit of arguing with John to convince him to let her come along to the school. She had pointed out that she knew him better than anyone, and if anyone was going to be able to get through to him, and avert the deaths of innocent children, it was her.

  She wanted to wring her husband’s neck and string him up by the balls. How could she have been so blind to what was happening—what he was doing to their son?

  Alarms were going off, and as far as the children knew, they were practicing a fire drill. Of course, the teachers were noticeably confused by all of the emergency vehicles and the trucks with Bomb Squad emblazoned on the sides. Yellow school buses were lined up on the street, and the children were herded onto them. Once one was filled, it would pull away, and take the children to safety.

  John and his team had gone into the school to help get the remaining children safely outside. They were also assisting the bomb squad locate the explosives in an attempt to disarm them before they blew up. Charlee’s chest tightened with every second that passed. The longer John stayed in the building, the better the chances he wouldn’t make it out before the building blew.

  She distracted herself by scanning the crowds that had gathered, searching for Peter—Dmitri. A man with dark hair was obscured by a group of women talking and pointing at the school. Charlee shifted to get a better look at the man.

  Peter.

  “There he is,” Charlee said to Riley. She didn’t want to point at him in case he noticed and took off before they could nab him.

  “Where?” she asked without turning around.

  “Behind you to your left. A few women are standing in front of him, blocking him from view.”

  “And you’re sure it’s him?” Riley asked, placing the walkie-talkie close to her mouth.

  “Positive.”

  She spoke into the walkie-talkie. Before Charlee had a chance to ask what was going to happen next, two of John’s team had Peter on the ground, handcuffed, and in the back of an armored vehicle.

  A loud explosion shook the ground. A large plume of smoke and debris filled the air. Charlee walked toward the building. “Oh my God, John.”

  Riley grabbed her by the arm and forced her to stop. “Stay here,” she said. “I’ll find out where they are, but I need you to here in case they come out.”

  Charlee nodded her head, but barely registered Riley speaking to her. All she could think of was that her husband and son may have killed the man she believed she could fall in love with.

  “Charlee.”

  She whirled around at the sound of her name. “Luka? What are you doing here?”

  “I saw some people coming out on the other side of the building,” he said, pulling on her arm. “Come on.”

  She followed him as he weaved through the various law enforcement personnel scrambling to help get people to safety. Charlee searched frantically for any ign of John. “Where did you say they were?”

  Luka pointed to the corner of the school. “Just around here.”

  Sh
e stepped in front of him to get a better look. Something pricked her in the upper arm. She looked at the spot. Her vision started to blur, and her legs gave out.

  Luka grabbed her under her arm. “Come on, Charlee. Let’s get you out of here.” He lead her toward the street.

  Her tongue was thick and dry in her mouth. She tried to protest, but was unable to get the words out. Luka opened the passenger door of a car, and placed her on the seat. Her head dropped back against the headrest, too heavy to lift. She stared out the side window just as John emerged from the building carrying a child in each arm.

  “John,” she slurred. She tried to pull on the door handle, but couldn’t get her muscles to work. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Somewhere I can take care of you—without anyone finding you.”

  Take care of me? Nothing was making sense. Was she dreaming? “Why?”

  “Because sometimes we need to make examples of people—and you are the chosen one. You are the epitomy of everything that is wrong with this country. Rich. Privileged. Driving around in your big, fancy SUV. Dmitri ordered me to leave you alone, but he is too emotional when it comes to you and his son. He couldn’t see the potential killing you would have on the organization.”

  Dmitri? “Are you—” She didn’t need to ask the rest of the question. She already knew the answer. Luka was a member of the RRA.

  He stopped the car in front of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Tears slid down Charlee’s face. No one knew where she was. Who had taken her. And if, by some chance they did find this place, she would most likely already be dead.

  Chapter Fifteen

  John sucked on oxygen through the mask as he sat on the bumper of an ambulance. All his men, and about twenty children barricaded in the gym, had made it out of the school after the first explosion. Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Dmitri Petrov might’ve been one of the leaders of the RRA, but his explosives-setting knowledge was lacking.

  Riley walked toward him, her lips pressed into a grim white line. “We have a problem. Charlee is missing.”

  The world around him sped up. Where could she have gone?

  “Did she go back to the office?” he asked. “Is Connor still there?”

  “I checked with Flaherty as soon as I realized she was gone. He said Connor is still in the conference room and there has been no sign of Charlee.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Send someone to her house and see if she is there. Where’s Petrov?”

  “We have him,” she said, and pointed to an armored vehicle. “He’s being hawked by Gabe, Sean, and Apollo.” Sean was a K-9 handler. HIs dog, Apollo, had sniffed out the children in the gym. If not for him, a few children might not have been located and would still be in the burning building.

  Riley’s cell phone rang. “Flaherty, she informed John, and answered the phone. “What’ve you got for me?” She listened for a moment, then said, “Send it to me,” and disconnected the call.

  “Flaherty was able to hack into the news stations raw footage of the area during, and immediately following, the explosion. He says it appears a man led her to a car in the parking lot, and they left.”

  “Did she go willingly?” he asked. A mix of fear and disappointment produced a lead ball that sat in his gut.

  “It appears so, but he couldn’t be sure. He’s sending me the video.”

  Her phone dinged and she clicked on the link Flaherty sent. She turned the screen so they could both see it. “The screen is too small,” she said. She grabbed an iPad from her bag, and cued up the video.

  John watched a young man approach Charlee. They spoke for a moment, and then she followed him to the opposite side of the school. When they stopped, the man pointed at the school before placing a hand on her arm.

  Charlee’s knees went out, and the man grabbed her before she fell. “Back that up, and then slow it down,” he told Riley. “Can you enlarge the two of them.”

  “Only a little,” she said. “Any more than this and it’s too grainy to make anything out.”

  John focused on the man’s hand as it rested on Charlee’s arm. “Did you see that?”

  Riley backed it up and leaned closer to the screen.

  “Right there.” John pointed to an object in the man’s hand. “I think he drugged her.”

  “That would explain why it looks like she was having a hard time walking to the car.”

  “Is there a shot of his face?” John asked. Relief warmed his slightly. At least she hadn’t left with the man by choice. Any doubt that lingered about her was gone. Charlee was just as much a victim as the rest of them were. More, perhaps. She the added benefit of being deceived by people she loved.

  Riley backed the video up. Before the man reached Charlee, there was a shot of him looking around the crowd. No doubt trying to locate her. The camera picked up a shot of his face.

  “I recognize him,” John said. “Where do I know you from” He muttered to himself. His head snapped up. “He’s one of Charlee’s students.”

  “Do you think he was stalking her, and took advantage of the situation?” Riley asked.

  “No,” John said and started walking toward the armored vehicle where Petrov was being held. “I need to talk to him. Bring the iPad.”

  He sat opposite Petrov and placed the iPad in front of his face. “Where would he have taken Charlee?”

  Petrov snorted and looked away with a word. John reached across and punched him in the side of the head.

  “I know he is one of your little minions. Where was he supposed to take her?”

  “He wouldn’t take her. I forbid him to do anything to her.” Petrov waved his hand in the air, dismissing the idea as ludicrous.

  John pressed the play button. Petrov watched as Luka drove away with Charlee.

  Petrov cursed under his breath.

  “Where is she?”

  “A warehouse near Raytheon. No one has used it in years.”

  “Get a vehicle, John said to Riley. “He’s going to show us where they are.”

  He grasped the front of Petrov’s shirt and yanked him forward. “If anything happens to her, I will not hesitate to kill you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The team set up a block away from the warehouse. Petrov drew a rough map of the where all the doors in and out of the building were, as well as a high vantage point for Lucas, the team’s sniper, to roost. The team geared up. Riley and Flaherty would run the operation from the van at the rendezvous point, as well as, keep an eye on Petrov in case shit went south.

  The team geared up and made their way along the sides of the building. John’s heart pounded in his chest, the beat thrumming through his ears. He was sure the other men could hear it. He wasn’t sure if he was nervous because he hadn’t actually been in the thick of an operation in a while, or if he was scared shitless that they were already too late to save Charlee.

  “Oz, bird is in the nest,” Lucas said over comms. “I spot one friendly, no tangos.”

  “Can you verify identity of the friendly?” Riley asked.

  “Hold one, Oz.” Lucas was probably trying to zoom his scope in as close as possible to see if the friendly was Charlee. If not, they had been duped by Petrov. And Charlee was as good as dead.

  “Looks to be our girl,” Lucas said.

  “Condition of the friendly?” Riley asked.

  “Hard to tell. She’s just standing in the center of the room.”

  “Okay, munchkins,” Lance said over comms, addressing the team. “Be on the lookout for our wicked witch. No one has eyes on and he could be anywhere.”

  They breached the building through three entrances. Lucas was in a crow’s nest on the exterior, looking in through a skylight along the edge of the roof. Since John was not regularly on the missions, he was in the middle of the pack. When he entered the building, he located Charlee, standing in the center of the warehouse, just as Lucas had reported.

  The sun was starti
ng to set, and long shadows fell across her, obscuring her from view. John walked toward her. The closer he got to her, the better he could see her. Tears streamed down her face, but he didn’t see any signs of trauma to her face.

  She thrust her hands out as he got closer. “No, John, don’t come any closer.”

  “It’s okay, Charlee,” he reassured her. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  He took a few steps toward her. “Don’t touch me!” Sobs broke from her chest. She took a half step into the sun.

  John finally saw why she was so adamant he not get too close. She was wearing a black vest—rigged with explosives.

  “Jesus,” Tink said behind him. The team froze. Suicide bomb vests were unstable, at best, and no one wanted to be blown to the heavens.

  Footsteps echoed through the warehouse.

  “Gentlemen, I think we have our tango,” Lucas said. “Approaching from the south end of the warehouse. Looks to be holding the detonator in his hand.”

  The young man stalked across the open space toward Charlee. “Now, I know you won’t do anything stupid, like have your sniper shoot me. If I release my hold, this switch will engage—and there won’t be enough of the lovely Dr. Finch to scrape off the floor and put in a shoebox.”

  He surveyed the team, a smile growing across his face. “Well, this is even better than I had hoped for. I knew when I saw Charlee standing with a bunch of special operations assholes that I had hit the mother load. And here you are all, risking your lives to save her. Did you have any idea you were walking into a trap?”

  “Did you and Dmitri Petrov plan this?” John asked.

  Luka snorted. “No, he had nothing to do with this.” He poked the center of his chest. “This was my idea. My plan. And I will be rewarded for taking out the elusive 13.