by Ari McKay
Five minutes later they were at the dock, and Joe pulled the Hummer to the far end of the public parking area. There weren’t many cars in sight, which was a good thing for helping them keep a low profile.
“Let’s load up,” he said as he unfastened his seatbelt. “Pixel! Anything on the drone?”
“I’ve got movement in the trees at the house in question, but I can’t get a fix on anyone,” Chris replied tensely. “A glimpse of a man, possibly armed, but I only got dark hair and dark clothes. Want me to go in for a closer look?”
Joe hesitated. “No, Pixel. Hang tight.” He glanced at Drew. “This could be a shitstorm. Last chance to hang back.”
Drew shot Joe an incredulous look. “Fuck that,” he said, a growl underlying his voice. “Let’s nail these motherfuckers and get Finn out of there.”
“Okay.” It probably was a good thing Drew was along, as little as Joe wanted to admit it. If nothing else, someone would be there for Finn if Joe bought the farm. “Give me a two minute lead, since I want to go in silent. Let’s go.”
They left the Hummer after gearing up, with Joe slipping into the woods as quietly as a cat. He didn’t pay any attention to Drew; if he was spotted, there wouldn’t be anything Joe could do for him, so Joe chose to focus on the way ahead.
Joe wasn’t quite as good as Ghost or Pita at silent movement, but he was definitely good enough for this job, and he did have the disadvantage of being much, much larger than the two men who had trained him in stealth. He was able to get into sight of the house they were targeting without any challenge, and he stopped for a moment behind a large tree to report, keeping his voice low. “Joker. I’m in sight of objective. No guard in sight.”
“Copy that,” Drew said, keeping his voice low as well. “Ready for company?”
“Negative. Let me proceed first. Stay back at least fifty meters in case someone slips in behind me.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Drew was stationed behind a tree several yards behind him. Drew gave a thumbs up, and Joe nodded.
Well, this was it. Drew claimed to have his back, and Joe got the feeling he was about to discover if Joker was telling the truth or not. Drawing in a deep breath, Joe started forward toward the house.
It was still daylight, so Joe kept to the trees as much as possible. He was still alert for an outside guard, and it turned out to be a good thing he was. As he neared the rear porch of the house, a man in camouflage rounded the nearer corner of the building. Any thought that he might be a noncombatant were given lie by the HK433 compact assault rifle he held close to his chest. Unless people in the area had taken to mowing down deer instead of hunting them, this had to be the Pakistanis who had kidnapped Finn.
The confirmation caused a wave of icy calm to flow over Joe as all uncertainties were laid to rest. Almost without thinking, he spent two seconds switching the tranq gun out for his suppressor-equipped Glock 17. He would have preferred to take the guard alive, but it was too dangerous with the guy armed the way he was. Joe would rather have a quick, quiet kill and hope they could take alive one of the others inside.
The guard was about to pass in front of Joe’s position at a range of about twenty-five meters. Joe lifted his gun and sighted the kidnapper. He drew a breath. Without hesitation, he released it and fired.
The suppressed weapon made a sound barely louder than a cough, and the guard spun in place, shot cleanly through the head. He dropped to the ground, and Joe moved immediately, wasting no time to double-check the kill. That was Drew’s job now, and Joe had to get inside and find Finn as fast as possible.
The house had no basement, only a crawlspace as evidenced by the low access door Joe could see, which meant he had to mount the porch to gain entry. It also meant that Finn was likely being held in a central area of the building, since it was only a single-story in height. There might be a guard at the windows, but Joe’s instincts told him this was supposed to be a fast assault with minimal operators to lower the likelihood of detection. Joe had now killed or incapacitated at least two of their personnel, which meant there were two or possibly three still in play. If they had one person working on Finn while another stood guard, then there was likely only one other guard in the house. Or at least, that’s what he hoped.
The porch steps were concrete, and Joe crossed to them easily, pressing against the brick of the house as he mounted them. When he reached the top, he tested the porch door, which was fortunately unlocked, saving him several moments. He opened the door slowly to minimize any sounds and then slipped onto the porch, easing the door shut on its springs.
There was a nice seating group facing the trees and lake, behind which a long wall of glass offered a view into the house. There was no one in sight, but Joe could see only a single room, which appeared to be a lavish kitchen. He tested the knob of the nearest door, finding it also unlocked. Before opening it, he said a brief prayer. If the place had a newer alarm system that alerted every time a door was opened, he was about to announce his presence.
He turned the knob slowly and then pushed the door inward, relieved not to hear the telltale beep of an alarm. It took him only a moment to slip inside, but he left the door open to facilitate Drew’s entry—or his own sudden exit, if it became necessary. Now that he was inside he could hear voices, followed by a sharp cry of pain that had to have come from Finn.
Time slowed down as it always did on ops, and Joe felt like he was moving in slow motion even as he made as much haste as he could toward the voices, gun raised to deal with any threat. He didn’t see any other guards as he cleared each room on his way forward, and he wondered if there was another outside whom they’d somehow missed. As it was, he reached the open door of what appeared to be an office, and as he peered cautiously around the jamb he spotted another guard cradling an HK, who appeared to be watching avidly as an older man in a suit and tie used a metal baton on one of Finn’s knees.
Joe didn’t even think about what he was going to do. Instinct took over. He raised his gun and put a bullet in the head of the guard before he stepped into the doorway, turning his gun on the torturer.
“Stop right there. Drop the baton, or I swear I’ll put a bullet in each of your kneecaps before I start to get really nasty.”
The man had frozen when the guard began to topple over, dead where he stood. He turned to face Joe, a strange smile curving his lips. “Ah, I see reinforcements have arrived. Excellent. This one is most uncooperative. Perhaps you’ll be a better subject for interrogation.”
The pronouncement made Joe frown, but he didn’t lower his weapon. Instead he glanced at Finn, clamping down hard on a surge of rage at the sight of Finn’s injuries. Instead he kept his voice light. “Hey, partner… sorry I’m late.”
Finn was blindfolded, but he lifted his head and turned in the direction of Joe’s voice. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone suffused with relief. “I knew you’d turn up sooner or later, but I was getting kind of bored with waiting.”
The smart-ass reply made Joe’s tension ease just a bit. If Finn could still joke, he hadn’t been broken. Injuries to the body, as Joe well knew, could heal a lot faster than having your spirit flayed into nothingness. Plus it meant that Finn hadn’t doubted that Joe would come for him.
“Yeah, I figured you’d had enough of a vacation and came to haul your ass back to work,” he replied. He refocused on the guy in the suit. He was older than the guards and had the distinct air of someone in charge. “Sorry to put an end to your fun, but you’ll be coming with us, and I promise that you’ll be paid back for your hospitality. In spades.”
“Maybe.” The guy smiled again, but it held no warmth. “Then again… maybe not.”
Joe hadn’t heard a thing, but he felt the barrel of a gun suddenly pressed against the back of his head.
“Don’t move.”
The situation was suddenly changed, and Joe cursed himself for not clearing the entire house before making his presence known. He could have sworn there was no one else inside, and
maybe this guy had come in through the front after Joe had already headed for this room, but it was sloppy. And it might be a mistake that was going to cost he and Finn their lives.
Before he could frame a reply, he heard the guy behind him gasp, and he instinctively ducked his head away from the gun even as he felt an impact against the body armor on his back. In that moment of distraction, the man who had been torturing Finn suddenly bolted toward the room’s front window, crashing through it and out into the yard.
“Shit!” Joe turned enough to see Drew standing behind him, gun in hand. “Take care of Finn!” With that, he ran for the window as well, launching himself out of it in the torturer’s wake, taking off after him.
He’d acted on instinct, not wanting the bastard to get away, and he was hot on the man’s heels as the guy streaked away. He fired his gun over the man’s head, not wanting to kill him outright because they still needed answers about what was happening. To his surprise, the man didn’t stop.
Joe was a big man, and while he could run for long distances, he wasn’t as fast as Finn or Dead-eye over short distances. The torturer was either a former track-and-field athlete, or else pure terror was giving him speed, because he actually began to pull away from Joe, leaving Joe with the choice of shooting him in the back—something the police would frown far more upon than his killing of the guards—or allowing him to escape.
There was also a third alternative.
“Pixel! Lock in on my GPS beacon! I’m in pursuit of one of the kidnappers, but he’s faster than I am. I need you to get a drone on this guy before I lose him!”
“On it!”
A moment later, a dark drone swooped down and homed in on the torturer, keeping pace with him far more easily than Joe could.
Joe slowed down, watching until he was sure Pixel had locked on and then he turned and headed back toward the house. “I’m going to secure the location, but it’s time for backup to roll,” he said to Pixel. “Also notify Wake County PD and get the helicopter up to evac Finn. He’s conscious but injured.”
“Roger that,” Chris said with brisk efficiency. “I’ll give you an ETA for the helicopter as soon as I have one.”
“Thanks. I’m returning to the house now.”
Joe made it back, heading through the front door and returning immediately to the study. He saw that Drew had removed the blindfold and was now behind the chair, dealing with Finn’s restraints. All he wanted to do was pull Finn into his arms, but he settled for dropping next to the chair on his knees, afraid to touch Finn in case he caused him any more pain.
“Hey. How bad is it?” he asked, bracing himself for the answer. Finn was a medic, so he’d know damned well how badly he was injured.
“Could be worse. Could be better, too,” Finn said with a wry smile, his eyes warming with affection as he gazed at Joe. “Ribs—cracked and possibly broken. Left leg—multiple fractures. Lower abdomen—blunt force trauma with possible internal bleeding. Pretty face, mercifully unscathed.”
Joe lifted one hand, surprised to see it was shaking, and laid his palm against Finn’s cheek. “I’m sorry it took us so long. I’m sorry they took you at all. It should have been me. This is all my fault.”
Drew finished freeing Finn’s arms, and Finn let out a sigh of relief as he rubbed his wrists, which showed signs of chafing and bruising.
“It’s not your fault,” Finn said, reaching out to Joe in return. “They’re the bad guys, remember? You saved lives. You saved innocent kids. They didn’t have to retaliate. It was their choice. I don’t blame you. I blame them.”
Joe wasn’t going to add to Finn’s misery by arguing with him, but he knew the truth. This was his fault, and he’d do anything to make it up to Finn. “I’ll get them, I promise. I’m going to make them all pay for doing this to you. I’m going to make them suffer.”
“I don’t give a fuck about making them suffer.” Finn clasped Joe’s hand tightly and brought it to his lips. “I just want you to stay safe.”
Joe knew the chances of that were pretty low. “They wanted me, didn’t they?” he asked, holding onto Finn’s hand like a lifeline. He really wanted to pull Finn into his arms, but with his injuries it was too risky. He settled for what contact he could get. He could feel his eyes stinging, emotions rushing in to replace the adrenaline he’d been riding for too many hours. “They could have killed you, and it would have killed me, too.”
Finn gnawed on his bottom lip, his inner battle showing in his expressive eyes, and then he nodded slowly. “Yeah, they were looking for you. They don’t have a name, and I sure as hell didn’t give it to them, but it wasn’t hard to figure out they meant you. They said you killed some head honcho’s son, and he’s out for blood.”
A lump of ice formed in the pit of Joe’s stomach. He wouldn’t call any of the kills on his recent mission anything but justifiable, but he had the sinking feeling he knew exactly which of them was the one they were after him for. It was the one that had sickened him most because the man he had shot had been barely an adult, and yet he’d been brutalizing a child.
Joe closed his eyes. “If they want me, they’ll never stop,” he said softly. “And they won’t care who they have to hurt to get to me. I’m going to have to end this, or we’ll never be safe.”
“Wait,” Finn said, a flare of alarm visible in his eyes. “The guy who got away mentioned a plane private plane at RDU that was loaded up and waiting. Even though the guy threatened it as a means of taking out our headquarters, maybe it’s really his escape plan. All we have to do is catch the guy, figure out who he’s working for, then let Herc handle it. He’ll figure out a plan and throw a ton of resources behind it. Problem solved.”
Drew had remained quiet, seeming more focused on freeing Finn’s injured leg as carefully as possible than on their conversation, but he spoke up now. “I think that’s a good idea,” he said without looking up at either of them. “Use what you’ve got available.”
For a moment Joe thought about arguing, but he decided that nothing he could say would change Finn’s mind. But he wasn’t going to risk any of his cadre for this. It was a personal matter, and it was his fight, not theirs.
“We can discuss it later,” he said. He squeezed Finn’s hand and then moved back, rising to his feet and looking down at Drew. “Thank you for having my back… and saving my life. I guess I owe you one.”
Drew glanced up at last, a slight smile curving his lips. “Any time.”
Joe nodded in acknowledgement, feeling a little awkward. He knew he was guilty of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional conduct, and he’d misjudged Drew. If Drew had wanted to get Joe out of the picture, he’d had the perfect opportunity to do so. Instead, he’d saved both Finn and Joe.
“Well, I’ll go check to see if our evac is close,” he said, moving toward the door. He owed Drew the opportunity to be with Finn and talk to him, but he wasn’t quite ready to witness it. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but definitely not now.
“I’ll go.” Drew stood up and skirted around the chair. “You can stay here and look after Finn.”
It was tempting to take the offer, but Joe knew he had to do this. He had to stop denying what was between Drew and Finn just because he didn’t want it to be happening. Especially since there was something he was going to have to do soon, and he needed to find a way to make peace with Finn and Drew’s relationship.
Reaching out, he put a hand on Drew’s arm. “No, you stay,” he said. “He needs you, too.”
Drew’s eyebrows climbed at that, but he inclined his head in acknowledgment or thanks or perhaps both. He squatted beside Finn’s chair and touched Finn’s arm gingerly. Finn smiled slightly, but his features were taut with pain, and his breathing was growing labored.
“If they aren’t here, tell them to hurry up,” Finn said. “I’m ready for some good drugs.”
“On it,” Joe said and then turned and left the room. They needed to get Finn to the hospital, needed to find th
e man who’d tortured him, and Joe had some hard decisions to make.
The rescue was over. The mission, however, was just beginning.
16
The steady beep of the heart monitor provided background noise, something Finn could tether himself to as he floated in a twilight state between asleep and awake. The antiseptic tang in the air grounded him as well, letting him know he was safe, not still trapped and blindfolded in that torturer’s room. If he opened his eyes, he would see the bland decor of a private hospital room, where he’d been moved once the ER doctors were satisfied that he was stable. He’d need surgery on his leg, but the gamut of tests they’d subjected him to had shown none of his injuries were life-threatening.
Currently, he was alone, but that would change once word got out that the tests were finished and he was settled in a room. No doubt Joe was in the nearest waiting room, sitting as still as a statue and not speaking to anyone unless he had to. Drew was probably with him, and Finn wouldn’t be surprised if Herc was there, too, not only out of concern but also ready to debrief Finn if he was up to it—and Finn had plenty to tell him.
The door opened, letting in the noise from the hallway. Finn rolled his head on the pillow and cracked his eyes open, hoping his visitor wasn’t a nurse coming to check his vitals or shove a bedpan under his ass.
But instead of medical staff, he saw Joe standing in the doorway, looking concerned and oddly hesitant. “Hey.”
“Get in here!” Finn beckoned to Joe with the arm that wasn’t hooked up to the IV and monitors, and he let the happiness he felt at seeing Joe show in his welcoming smile.
Joe hurried over to the bed, taking Finn’s hand in his and squeezing it. Finn could feel an actual tremor in Joe’s fingers. “How are you doing? Do you need anything?”
