Operation SEAL: Book Two Trident Brotherhood Series

by Cayce Poponea

  “Logan?” Harper's strained voice came through the speakers. My blood boiled at the thought of him hurting her.

  “Yeah, baby, it’s me. Listen to me, I know Lance is listening too. I’m coming to get you, but don’t believe anything that pathetic motherfucker tells you. I love you, and when this is over, it's just you and me.”

  Hoping my true meaning was reaching behind the fear she felt and made it to her heart.

  “And Lance, I’m coming after you. And when I find you, I’m going to show you what happens when you fuck with what is mine.”

  I-95 IS A PARKING LOT

  Diesel's reply message meant I had roughly an hour and a half before the team would arrive. Chief was up the road in North Carolina and would be the first one here. Reaper lived between Viper and me, but had a bad habit of going balls to the wall when he drove. Havoc was way down in Florida, it would take him the better part of a day to get here, but I would hook him up by satellite if I needed his expertise.

  I’d used one of the storage lockers built into the back of my gym to hold my equipment and a Jeep I’d had outfitted to match the ones we used on missions. According to the rest of my team, we each had a similar setup, complete with enough explosives and ammunition to do some significant damage. I donned my gear, adequately housing all my favorite guns and knives in various holsters and pockets on my camos.

  Taking the side streets and alleyways in an attempt to hide from the prying eyes of any other members of Ecnal we had yet to learn about. Pulling up along the side of the storage facility, the iron gates separating me from my target.

  Checking the app Ghost had given me to track Harper's location. The red dot on the map flashed a few hundred feet from me, confirming he had her in the storage unit. A white van sped down the road to my left, stopping at the gate. The man inside enters a code, and the gate moves to the left to allow him through. Taking out my binoculars, I observe as two men get out of the van, take a look around, and then hurry inside one of the storage units.

  Less than a minute later, a black full-sized truck pulls up beside me. The passenger side window rolls down, and I see Reaper nod his head in my direction. Now that I have a second set of eyes and another trained gun, I jump from my Jeep as Reaper does the same.

  “Sleeper cell, huh?” Reaper raises his boot to the hitch on the back of my Jeep. “Ghost says this one is personal.”

  “You could say that,” My game face is firmly in place, still mentally trying to wrap my head around it all. “Half of my fucking heart is across the street with a fucking mad man.”

  “Do we have visual confirmation or one of Ghost toys?”

  Opening the gate of my Jeep, I pull out the zippered duffel I kept some of my gear in. “Now that you’re here, going in for a visual.”

  Reaper wasn’t the biggest fan of Ghost gadgets. He trusted his eyes, ears and what he knew. This time I agreed with him, we needed to see Harper and make sure this wasn’t Ecnal setting us up. “Trouble is, the bastard knows us both. There’s a chance they’ve figured out the necklace she has on is a tracking device and have it instead of her.”

  “Too bad those bastards have never seen you use that beautiful face for evil instead of good.”

  Reaper tipped his head toward the road. A bright red VW Beetle is sitting at the gas station next door to the storage unit. Two young ladies are attempting to pump gas, but by the looks of it, were having trouble getting the pump to work.

  “Oh, fuck me!” Slamming my gear bag back into the Jeep. “Reaper, if this gets back to Harper, you had better defend my fucking ass.”

  “Nah, man.” He stops me with firm grip on my shoulder. “I’m going to help her kick it.”

  Crossing the street, twisting my ball cap backward and sliding on my shades, a move I’d been told made a woman stop and take note. As the girl closest to me looked over her shoulder, the bottle of water in her hand crashes to the ground, I knew this would work.

  “Whoa there, darlin’.”

  Picking up the bottle from the ground, flipping it in the air before returning it to her hand. “Careful, now.” Sealing the con with a wink and a smile.

  “Gas pump kicking your pretty ass?” Turning my charm on the second girl, who looked more cautions than the first. I knew her type, had been the wingman on a number of occasions while I captured the attention of the third-wheel friend. She eyed me suspiciously, her mistrust coloring her face. Adding a flex of the muscles in my arm, a bitch move on my part, but the distraction worked as she let me slide around and fix the pump for her.

  “Y’all headed for the beach or something?”

  “Or something.”

  “Yes.” They answered at the same time.

  “Shush, Kristen, he could be a serial killer. Don’t tell him where we are going.”

  “She’s right,” flexing my arms one more time as I finished filling the car, giving them a view of my ass as bait for what I needed next.

  “You don’t know me. How about we fix that?” Looking over my shoulder, I catch the pair with their wide eyes fixed on me.

  “My name is Dustin, I live just up the road. I’ve been waiting for my sister to come out of the storage place over there, but she is taking too long, and I’m going to be late for work. Do y'all mind helping me get through the gate so I can get my car?”

  “Why can't you just walk up and let yourself in?”

  “Well, I would, but if you look over your shoulder there, it says no foot traffic admitted.” Both turn to look at the sign on the gate. “Hell, I'll even pay for your gas. Everything I just put into your tank.”

  The pair shared a look, but decide to toss caution to the wind and get me past the gates. Looking in Reaper’s direction, I signal for him to get me the code to open the gate. Before the first girl has her seatbelt on, Keys was rattling off the code in my ear.

  As she pulled up to the keypad, I pretended to tie my shoe to hide my face. Not coming back up until she had driven around the corner and stopped the car.

  “Thank you, ladies.” Tossing some money in the front seat as I climbed out of the back. “Y’all wear sunscreen, wouldn’t want you to look like a lobster.”

  I listened as the gate opened again, letting the car of girls back out into the street. I noticed the van I had watched enter earlier, parked in the middle of the drive, the two men nowhere to be seen.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Reaper chastised me through my earpiece. “Making those poor girls think they were something special.”

  “Fuck off, dude.” Locating the security box on the side of the office and sliding in a USB, which would freeze the monitors and make anyone watching blind to our movements. “Get your ass over here so we can LoJack this van.”

  “Keys, you got eyes still?” Diesel's brother, Austin, had proven himself to my men when he assisted Viper, tracking down a man who was terrorizing Kennedy, his then girlfriend.

  “Yes, Doc. You RSVP to Viper’s wedding yet?” Reaper pulled up as I scanned the corner for the two men from the van.

  I had wanted to share the invitation with Harper, excited to see her name printed on the envelope as well. But the shit storm that is my life happened before I had a chance. “Reaper, toss me a Nanny.” Ignoring the question Keys asked, more than slightly worried I wouldn’t get the opportunity to dance with her again. Reaper pulls my Jeep into the space between the office and where the units start, tossing me a tracking beacon as he jumps from the driver's seat.

  “Doc?” Ghost calls into my earpiece as I switch on the tracker and secure it under the wheel well of the van. If these bastards decide to go anywhere, we will have their location and can follow them.

  “Go ahead.”

  “A rendezvous point has been assigned. A cargo ship is currently scheduled to leave the Port in two hours.”

  “Find me the ship, Keys. I want to know everything about it.”

  After tagging the van and having a good look around, I found no evidence Harper was here. Her red d
ot on my app flashed, but I had no visual confirmation. All we could do now was wait and see if Ecnal showed up. Taking out my phone, making a call I didn't want to make. I’d hoped we would be able to swoop in, take out Ecnal and call it a day, but that wasn’t the case.

  “Blaze, get your ass to the storage facility off Main. It’s about Harper.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Harper

  “I’m coming for you.”

  Logan’s promise had been on repeat in my head since Lance ended the call, and pocketed my phone. Gone was the gentleman who let me hide behind my grief, a cruel and calculated demon in his place. After kidnapping me with his chloroform cocktail, the effects lasting less than twenty minutes but left me with a killer headache. He tossed me in the back of his delivery van, ignored speed limits and the fact I was unrestrained, rolling around in the back.

  Lance made several phone calls, speaking in a language I assumed was Arabic. Whoever he spoke to last made him angry as he slammed his hand on the steering wheel several times. I remained quiet, something Ross had taught me if I ever found myself in a situation such as this one. When he finally stopped, and the back door opened, the smell of the ocean and something rancid hit me full force.

  “Enjoy the ride, Harper?”

  I wouldn’t feed into his madness. Instead, I remained quiet and still, celebrating internally as the smile on his face faded and disappeared into a flat line. Frustrated with my lack of participation in his game, Lance grasps my ankles, pulling me from the van and shoving me toward a metal container waiting to be loaded on a ship.

  “Hurry up, Harper. I have much to show you.”

  Shoving me through the open door of the metal container, the hinge creaking, and then shutting with a thud behind us. I expect the interior to be dirty and stacked with boxes. Instead, there was electricity, or at least a generator, as several television screens lined one of the walls. It was cool inside, not hot like a metal box should be in the afternoon sun.

  “Welcome to my office, temporarily at least.”

  He walked over to one of the rolling chairs, sitting down in a huff motioning for me to sit beside him. I hesitate, considering for a minute bolting for the door. The idea of escape fades as I see the gun he has tucked in the waistband of his jeans. Switching gears, I take a seat and attempt to formulate a new plan.

  “I bet you're wondering why I brought you here? Gone to all this trouble to get you alone?”

  Twisting his chair back and forth, his dark eyes fell on me, his relaxed stance worrying me.

  “I suppose you’ve earned the right to know who I am, considering how close you came to marrying me. Who knows, perhaps I can convince you to wear my ring again.” The sting of a tear prickled behind my eyes, and I take a deep breath to contain them. When I woke up from the chloroform, I found I had lost my necklace in the struggle.

  “My name is not Lance Ranoka, it’s Ecnal Konar. My family owns thousands of acres of land in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan where we harvest poppy plants to make heroine. We sell our drugs to the world or trade for things we need, such as guns or young women to entertain us.”

  The night I found him snorting coke while two girls sucked his dick made perfect sense.

  “I came to the States originally to help my older brother, Aaron. But that changed when the US military started targeting our poppy fields, destroying the way we live and trying to enforce a new way of life for my people. I’ve spent the last two years collecting information and making new alliances.” Something told me I didn’t want to hear him go into any detail regarding the kind of alliances he spoke of.

  “What does kidnapping me have to do with all of this?”

  “That’s all you get, beautiful Harper. I have something to show you and an appointment to keep.” Lance or Ecnal, whomever he is, turned from me to the monitors on the wall. Picking up what I assumed was a remote, he pressed several buttons until all the screens came to life. The first screen showed what looked to be the outside of a security gate, the metal fence at the bottom and a pole with a keypad to the side. The second screen looked to be the inside of a room, although the walls resembled the ones in this metal container. Two men sat in the center of the room facing each other, a small table separating them. Looking closer at the top of the table, I noticed two cell phones and something much smaller, the pendant Logan had given me last night.

  “Your little boyfriend and his team has created too many problems for us lately. Cheating us out of a lucrative deal with a Russian business partner.”

  I remember the news report announcing the death of Pavel Kumarin, a Russian mobster, who died in an explosion. I also recall the name, Aarash Konar being reported as dead as well. This had to be one of Ecnal’s brothers.

  “His actions took away a lot of money, and I plan to collect payment, from all of them.”

  Pointing at the second screen, “I noticed you recognized the locket on the table. Did you know he planted a tracking device behind the fake diamond chips?” This didn’t surprise me, Logan was a trained SEAL, and he had confessed he loved me. As far as the term fake, I highly doubt it. It was just another jab in an attempt to get a reaction from me.

  “Want to know why those men are sitting on the floor waiting?” Keeping my focus on the two men, I avoid answering his question. “Look at the walls, Harper. What do you see?”

  Straining my eyes, trying to see what he was trying to point out, but the picture is too dark to make out what was against the wall. Leaning over and resting his chin on my shoulder, he whispers in a chilling voice.

  “It's enough explosives to blow up a city block. I arranged for some information to be leaked earlier today. And by my calculations, your boyfriend and his gang of misfits should be congregating outside my storage unit right about now. You and I are going to watch as they storm the unit, looking to rescue you, and blow themselves up instead.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Logan

  Having Harper trapped in the same room as a mad man is stretching the limits of what I can stand.

  “Fuck this! Everything tells me she is in there, inside a metal building, with no air-conditioning. I’m going in.”

  Grabbing a couple of grenades and some flash bombs, I check the chamber of my gun, as I got ready to move.

  “Doc,” Reaper cautioned but didn’t try to stop me. The sweat beading at the base of my neck, rolled down my skin and collected somewhere near my belt.

  “Let’s wait for Blaze to get here.” Ignoring his rationale, the girl I loved with every fiber of my being needed me to get her out of there.

  “And then what? We wait a little longer for Diesel and Ghost to show? No thank you, I’m done waiting.” My frustration is greater than my clear thinking. My need to keep Harper safe outweighing the rational part of me that agrees with Reaper.

  Keeping my back to the metal exterior of the building, I edge my way over to the unit, which the white van is parked in front of. Glancing over my shoulder, I notice Reaper has my six. Even when he doesn’t agree with me, he is still willing to follow me into a possible ambush.

  Earlier when we put the tracking unit under the van, I noticed a grassy area with several tall bushes. It was close enough to see the door, yet far enough away not to be noticed if they opened the door to leave. I give Reaper the signal to go around the opposite side of the building and wait for me in those bushes. He silently takes off around the corner, as I continue my forward progression to the door on the end of the aisle. As the door grew closer, I began to question the validity of the intel Ghost had been given. Sleeper cells tend to blend into their surroundings, keeping to themselves and not seeking attention from those around them. Lance Ranoka drove an expensive car, attended public functions where he openly confronted people. He had been arrested for possession with intent to distribute. Not to mention how he stalked Harper, allowing her neighbors to ask questions about him, know who he was and where he lived. All of the above are out of character for a sleeper cell. />
  “See anything?”

  Reaper had his rifle pointed at the closed door, his belly against the ground the way he preferred it.

  “Not a fucking thing.” He mumbled back, checking the sites for placement. We sat in silence for several minutes, neither one of us wanting to admit this felt all wrong.

  “Blaze should have been here by now.” My thoughts somehow make their way past my tongue and out in the open before I can stop them.

  “Maybe he got caught in traffic.” Reaper had complained about the traffic around Norfolk since he came down here for some training a few years ago. Reaper preferred the quiet of the mountains, where he could do as he pleased and not be bothered by rules and regulations.

  “Cover me,” I ordered as I stood from our hiding spot, pulling one of the grenades from my pocket and stepping close to the white door, which mocked me. Over to my right was an empty lot. I could create a diversion, which would make them come out to investigate, giving Reaper a clear shot to take them out. As I hooked my index finger through the pin, something hard hit me from my left, throwing me to the ground and knocking the wind out of me.

  Lying on the pavement, trying like hell to regain my breath a cell phone is shoved in my face. In the center of the screen is a flashing red dot on what looks like a map of the Port of Norfolk.

  “Stand down, motherfucker, she ain’t in there.” Blaze stood over me, a determined scowl on his face.

  “What the fuck man?” I coughed out, as my muscles relaxed and air filled my lungs. I attempted to get up, but Blaze had his boot in the center of my chest.

  “Ghost called me thirty seconds after you did. When he mentioned Lance called you from Harper's phone, I knew he was up to something more than pissing you off.” Blaze removed his boot from my chest, extended out his hand and helped me stand.

  “I’ve had every phone Harper has ever owned equipped with a tracking chip. One I created myself and undetectable, even by the hardcore hackers.”