Justin

by Kris Michaels

  "Justin?" Jason's voice brought him out of his spiraling thoughts.

  "Tell me what is going on," He demanded as he walked down the hallway toward his brother.

  "I will. Come with me. Jared, you'll need to be brought into this." Jason headed down the hallway in front of them.

  "Do you need Nic, too?"

  "He's already in the theater."

  Justin followed his brother through a maze of hallways until they entered a James Bond-esque type of room. The lights were low, and there were at least seven different screens flashing on the wall at the back of the theater. He walked down the steps. His brother Jacob and his wife Tori were at one huge console, their heads together whispering and motioning towards a screen. Jewell and her fiancé Zane were at another. Jade and Nic sat in the front row where Jared dropped down beside them. Jason motioned for Justin to take a seat. He shook his head and stood, arms crossed over his chest. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. Nobody was going to dictate another fucking thing to him until he got them.

  "Alright. This is a classified briefing at a Uniform Victor level." Jason's voice was loud and stopped all conversations. At Jason’s declaration, every head in the place snapped toward Justin. He threw his hands up in a frustrated gesture.

  "Justin has Uniform Victor clearance. He's had it for longer than most of you have been in Guardian's service."

  "Say what now?" Jade spoke the words that no doubt everyone was thinking.

  "Justin's code name is The Magus."

  "Holy fuck. You're the magician? The cat burglar?" Jade blurted.

  Justin swiped his forehead. "Information Extraction Specialist." He put his hands on his hips and glared at Jason. "What the ever loving fuck is going on?"

  "Jewell, bring up screen one."

  Justin glanced up. His heart stopped, and his lungs constricted. There was a grainy video feed of Danielle. She was lying on her side on a concrete floor. "Is she..." Justin couldn't bring himself to ask the question.

  "She's alive. They come in every so often and wake her up. She's obviously drugged."

  "Where is she? Who the fuck did this?"

  "That is what we are working out," Jared answered. "By the way, I'm pissed I didn't know you were a world class thief."

  "Amen," Jade commented.

  "Ditto," added Jacob.

  He ground his teeth together. "I'm not particularly interested in what you're pissed about. Any of you. I followed orders the same way you have.” He threw his arm out and pointed at the screen. “What I do for this organization has nothing to do with what is happening now."

  "Hey, Justin?"

  He spun toward Jewell. “What?”

  "I have some information I need to tell all of you. If you and Jason could sit down and stop yelling, I'll be able to walk you through it. I know you're hurting. I've been on this end when Zane was on the other end of that video feed. I know what you're feeling, but we need to work this issue, not indulge in a pissing contest."

  Fuck me standing. He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

  "We are the best at what we do, you included. Let's get this figured out and get your woman. Okay?" That came from Tori.

  He nodded and dropped into the chair at the end of the row. Jason sat between him and Jared—his usual position—as he and Jared were always butting heads over something while they were growing up.

  Jewell raised her eyebrows in a silent question and he nodded—once. "Okay. The feed is being routed through...oh, about a gabillion different IP addresses, and being bounced around the globe. They are good, but not good enough."

  He watched as Zane put a hand on Jewell's shoulder. She glanced up and smiled softly. His heart felt as if it had been lanced. Danielle looked at him that way. His eyes darted up at the video feed. He torqued down on his jaw again. He needed to be part of the solution, not the problem. His hands shook, so he clasped them together and leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and watching the floor. He focused on one point between his feet and listened.

  "What is the location?" Tori's question followed on the heels of Jewell's announcement.

  "Misrata Province."

  "Libya?" Jacob's outcry echoed in the quiet room.

  Justin tore his eyes from the floor and flicked his gaze to Jason. The man had assumed almost the same position as he had.

  Jason closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. "Jacob, what teams do we have available?"

  Jacob pivoted on his heel and called up a screen. All eyes read the easily deciphered information. Red dots by each team indicated none were available. All were currently engaged in active operations.

  "Fuck." The whisper from Jason held more impact than a damn explosion. "Zane? What about your assets?"

  Zane rubbed his chin and then shook his head. "I can recall Thanatos. Rescues aren't our strong suit."

  "Damn it. I know that." Jason took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

  Jacob cleared his throat before he spoke. "I may have a solution."

  Every eye turned his direction. He glanced at Tori and shrugged. "The old Alpha team is all in town. We could go."

  Tori blinked at him and then glanced at Justin. She dropped a hand to her husband's forearm and gave him a soft smile. "Alpha team hasn't been on a mission together for years."

  "Granted, but we are damn good at what we do. We lived, ate, slept and breathed the same air for years. All of us have passed the PT requirements. We can get in and get her out."

  "Ahh...boys…looks like there are some gnarly complications." Jewell stopped typing and looked up at the screen that flashed onto the wall.

  "Is that a fucking moat?" Jared leaned forward as if proximity to the screen would bring the satellite picture into better resolution.

  "Yes. This is the origin of the feed. They've masked the hell out of it, but this is where that video is coming from."

  Soft mutterings of “shit”, “fuck” and “damn” trailed off into silence. He gazed at the screen in sick disbelief. All his adult life, he’d pursued actions that made brave men turn and walk away. He did it because he craved overcoming the hit of sheer terror that accompanied any threat of death; he was addicted to the adrenaline spiking through his veins as surely as any heroine addict to his crack. He fed on knowing he could master the panic and threat and still perform with precision—he could outwit death. But this? Some monster abducting Danielle for God only knew what reason? He’d been struggling to get his mind right—do what he’d always done: use the fear to sharpen his wits and performance. He couldn’t. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t do anything but lock the emotions down and not feel anything. If he didn’t, horror would paralyze him. It wasn’t a threat to him that brought him to his knees and made him cry for help. It was the death threat to her. His eyes scanned the room and settled briefly on each brother and sister in that room—each of them assembled and ready to move heaven and earth for him, for Danielle. Thank God for his family. When Danielle got home safely—he couldn’t contemplate any other outcome and remain sane—he had some fences to mend.

  "Tori, we need intel on that compound. Get with your counterparts and get us some answers. Jacob, call in your team." Jason stood and motioned to Justin. "Let’s go to my office. I'll fill you in on the kidnapper’s demands and why this situation went from a simple kidnapping to an operation monitored at the POTUS level."

  "POTUS?" He lifted from his seat and echoed the word. "Her father."

  Jason stopped and nodded. "Paul Greenfield received the ransom demand five minutes before you left your voice mail. I sent Ross Stapleton from the New York Office over to make contact with him. Greenfield was huddled with his security team trying to figure out the best course of action. We took that out of his hands. He's waiting in one of the conference rooms."

  "What do they want?"

  "A new prototype weapon."

  Jared, Nic, and Jade had followed them out of the door and trailed as they walked down the hallway.

/>   "What kind of weapon?"

  Justin twisted so he could see Jared, who’d begun to answer his question.

  "It is a variation on the Thunder Generator. That weapon concentrates energy into a shockwave which can incapacitate a crowd of demonstrators. But Phoenix Armament has used microtechnology to make the weapon shoulder-carried, not much heavier than a grenade launcher."

  "They want a crowd dispersal weapon?" he stopped in the middle of the hall, but Jared kept his mouth closed and leveled a look toward Jason.

  Jason glanced both ways to make sure there was no one else was listening and shook his head. "No, the shockwave has been concentrated. It kills. Effectively, at extreme distances and the barrel is flexible. It can be fired from around the corner with 99% accuracy. There is no need for ammunition. The weapon is a sniper's dream. The Daesh, the group we think is holding Danielle, is a terrorist group that operates out of the Mistrata Province. I'll know for a fact as soon as Tori and Jewell finish the background.”

  "Terrorists." He rubbed the back of his neck. Fucking terrorists had taken her.

  "That is my belief. We will work a plan, and we will do everything within our power to get Danielle back. Alive." Jason dropped a hand on his shoulder. "I promise you, we won't stop until we have her back. Now let’s go talk to her father, get the intel we need and make a plan."

  Chapter 22

  He sat alone in the darkened theater. The only active screen was the live video feed. Two bastards had come in and shaken Danielle awake. They forced her to drink and slapped her when she refused. Now, she cowered on the floor in the corner of the bare cell, her arms clenched around her knees, awake and terrified. She startled frequently. Obviously, there were sounds that were terrifying her. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see and feel her terror. He could taste her desperation.

  He floundered in desperation, too. He'd fought to be included on the rescue mission. He’d had to be physically restrained at one point. Jason and Jacob had adamantly refused to let a “thief” go into a war zone, and Paul Greenfield had agreed. Justin didn't remember much after hurling a metal chair across the table at his brothers. Jared, Nic, and Zane had manhandled him back to the theater, shoved him into a seat and shouted, “Do. Not. Fucking. Move.”

  He stared at Danielle. His fucking heart was sitting in the corner of a dark cell, and he was being told to sit here and wait. The bitter vitriol in his gut rolled and grew with each passing beat of his heart.

  The door behind him opened and he heard footsteps, but he didn't look up. He knew by now Jacob and his team were gearing up. They'd be leaving, without him. Justin would have to endure being an impotent spectator relegated to sitting in front of the monitor, watching the woman he loved suffer.

  "There's been a complication."

  Justin lifted guarded eyes to Jason and Jacob. He steeled himself. If the men he'd thrown a metal chair at were here telling him there was a problem... "What?" His gut sank to levels he didn't know existed.

  "From the intel we’ve just received that compound is the Daesh headquarters. They've pumped money into the security system. We've run all possible scenarios. No matter how rapidly they deploy, when Jacob's team breaches that fortress, the alarms will sound. Danielle will be moved—or more likely—killed." Jason extended the familiar courier's pouch to him. "I need a miracle, Magus. Get inside that compound and deactivate the alarm system, undetected. When the system is deactivated, notify Jacob. Alpha team will breach the fortress and rescue Danielle."

  Justin stood and reached for pouch, surprised to see his hand trembling. "My equipment?"

  "I have it waiting on the aircraft. Wheels up in thirty minutes. Get going." Jason cuffed him on the back and motioned toward Jacob who'd already reached the theatre door. Justin jogged up the steps and turned one last time to put his eyes on the grainy image of Danielle curled in on herself, her head resting on her knees. Justin gripped the door and swung it open. Hang on, baby. I'm coming.

  The roar of the C-17s engine's drowned out most of the conversation that Jacob was having with his team. He watched as Alpha team poured over the blueprints, the same way he had. The drawings and information were lacking, and the location sucked. Four rifle pits at the top of the building had almost three-hundred-and-sixty-degree coverage. Answers to questions about the lighting and a backup power source went begging. The wiring for the security system would run true to most schematics, but he didn't know if it was fiber optics, copper wired or a point to point microwave shot. He could defeat them all, but not knowing what he faced going in put him at a serious disadvantage, exponentially multiplying his chance of exposure. There was no thrill to this mission. No underlying sense of satisfaction. He faced death if discovered, and not only was his death assured, but Danielle's, Jacob’s and every member of Jacob's team. The irony of who trusted him with their lives—he, the man who worked so hard to keep his family at arm’s length—wasn’t lost on him.

  He glanced at his brother. He knew each of Jacob's men, albeit in passing. He believed Chief ran the business end of the complex in South Dakota. The twins, Dixon and Drake, were the training gurus, and Doc Cassidy, well, he worked at the hospital on the ranch.

  Chief walked over to him and sat down in the jump seat next to him. He handed him an earpiece and a small box. "The earpiece will be turned on only if we need to communicate with you.” He nodded towards the twins who were laughing at something Jacob had said. “Having those two in your head while you work is a learned skill. This box is your transmitter. When you've neutralized the alarms, you flip it open like this and activate it by pushing down on the button. Throw it away or keep it, it doesn't matter, we'll be coming in."

  Jacob moved over and sat down on the other side of him. "From what we can see of the cement construction of the walls and floors, we believe she's being kept in the lower level. The satellite photos show a sandstone structure, so we are confident she's in a basement."

  Justin nodded. He'd surmised the same thing.

  "We've got eighteen hours until the ransom is due to the Daesh. Greenfield was able to convince them he needed the time to get the specs from the government quality control inspector. It was a good stall tactic, but we will be pushed to get there, get in and get her out before the time elapses. You'll need to keep up. Are you in decent physical condition?" Jacob glanced at him.

  Was he as bulky as his brothers? No. But he’d had cardio for days, and he was strong enough to free climb the side of a mountain. "I won't slow you down."

  Jacob nodded. "Try to get some sleep. We are doing everything we can. Rest so you can do what you need to do when we land." His brother nudged him with his elbow. "So…a fucking cat burglar. One that can chuck chairs like a Nolan Ryan fastball."

  He rolled his head against the plane's vibrating bulkhead and returned his brother's amused expression with a glacial stare. Cat burglar. He hated that fucking term. "High priced, high tech, high risk, information extraction specialist."

  Jacob laughed and slapped his leg as he stood up. "Right. Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say."

  Thank God for the roar of the aircraft's engine. At least it drowned out Jacob's laughter. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He needed to rest so he could do what he needed to do. That's what Jacob had said, and for once he agreed with his little brother. When he closed his eyes the image of Danielle shot across his memory like a photograph. A snapshot of her fear. He held that image as he slowed his breathing into measured lengths. Hang on, baby. I'm coming.

  "Dude, we are about to land."

  Justin blinked his eyes open and glanced around the cabin of the aircraft. Jacob, Chief, and the Doc were strapped in across the cargo bay from where he sat. One of the twins, he didn't know which one was which, sat on either side of him.

  "So, you're like a thief?" The one on the right asked.

  He glared but didn't respond. He wasn't civil when he first woke up, and that shit wasn't helping.

  "Seriously, you steal
shit, right?"

  He groaned and leaned forward, scrubbing his face. He glanced at Jacob. A big ole smile split the man's face. Yeah, Jacob knew exactly what the twins were doing.

  "No, I don't steal shit. I'm an information extraction specialist."

  "Huh, fancy name for a crook, ain't it, Dixon?"

  "Yep. I can list ten names for a thief that aren't that fancy." The one on his left spoke.

  "Only ten? I bet we can come up with more. A thief is a thief after all."

  "Seriously?" He glared from one to the other. They were never getting reservations at his restaurants. The jerks.

  "Oh yeah, let's see. There is mugger."

  "Prowler."

  "Housebreaker."

  "Wait, isn't that like for an affair?" the one on the right asked.

  "Nope, that is a homewrecker."

  "Oh, yeah, true. What about swindler?"

  "Yep and then there is looter, robber, and filcher."

  He dropped his head to his hands. He knew they were trying to lighten the atmosphere, but seriously? They were obnoxious pricks…in a little brother type of way.

  "Oh, you forgot pickpocket, heister, bandit."

  "And cat burglar."

  "No, we said that."

  "No, we didn't."

  "Damn it, Dixon, I know I said that."

  "Bullshit," the one Justin assumed was Dixon responded. "We started with thief then we listed and, I might add this is in order because I don't forget shit two minutes after it happens: mugger, prowler, housebreaker, swindler, looter, robber, filcher, pickpocket, heister, and cat burglar."