by Gennita Low
Jazz smiled at the thought. He wasn’t exactly grandpa material yet. First he had to get himself some woman who would want to be grandma to his grandpa. Vivi came immediately to mind, and his smile turned wry. Funny how her image appeared so easily. He had never thought of a woman growing old with him before.
He was beginning to more than like Vivi. She was a special woman, with strong passions and fierce beliefs. Yet he knew she had an inner layer that was tough as the gator hides he used to help his grandpa dry out. She was obstinate and had kept everyone at arm’s length for so long, she didn’t know how to share herself. Yet there was something fragile about her that made him want to hold her close and tell her he would be there for her.
He wanted to laugh out loud. Somehow he didn’t think Vivi would appreciate being compared to an alligator. But every bayou boy knew how to calm an gator long enough to capture it. One just flipped it over on its back and stroked its belly. His smile widened into a grin at the thought of flipping—
“Jazz, Code Red Alert.” Hawk’s voice was low and urgent over the open mike.
Jazz sat up, all thoughts focused back to the here and now. “Go ahead, over.”
“We have a change in plan. Hang on while I connect with Satellite. You’re going to want to hear what they caught sight of from the sky eye.”
Jazz radioed Joker, ordering him to continue his position while he waited for the link with Satellite. “I won’t be relieving you yet. There’s new four-one-one coming.”
“No problem, sir. I’m wide awake,” Joker told him.
Minutes later, the patch was through. “What’s new, satellite?” Jazz asked.
He imagined the targets experiencing vehicular problems from the mud and rains. Any mission like this was bound to have glitches.
“Bad news, boys,” Vivi’s voice came over the radio. “Satellite has picked up more than three trucks in the convoy.”
CHAPTER
15
Special operations was filled with missions on-the-fly. Shit happened and usually at the last minute. Very little could surprise Jazz or his men, not even the announcement of possibly two dozen more hostiles heading their way. Heavily armed hostiles, at that.
Jazz and his squad had to swim back to the lookout point to join Hawk’s team. Vivi had sent footage of the satellite feed detailing the two trucks that had joined Dilaver’s convoy at the border and they had agreed that they needed a new strategy.
He looked around him. The team had gone through quick plan changes before and their faces reflected their attitude—calm, ready, alert. They had taken the news of a bigger battle ahead—fifty heads to their eight—without a single word.
“Are we waiting for Miss Verreau before the pow-wow?” Cucumber asked the obvious question. The men hadn’t heard the tail-end of the conversation between Hawk, Jazz, and Vivi. “This being a joint mission and all.”
“She’s heading here with reinforcements.”
“We don’t need a bunch of hooligans to join us, man.”
“We can handle the extras, sir.”
The team took pride in winning their own battles. Jazz understood the innate pride of his men when faced with new challenges.
“I know we can but this is a joint mission. They depend on us to do one part of the job while they accomplish theirs,” Hawk said. A laptop and a small whiteboard had been set up on the mini table so everyone could gather around. “You all know Miss Verreau is in charge of making sure one vehicle is safely taken out of the area. With these new additional vehicles, her job has just become riskier. Check out the latest Sigint from Satellite.”
Everyone paid attention to the small screen as Hawk clicked the footage to start. The tape was sped up for quick reference. Sigint, or signal intelligence, indicated that Dilaver’s original three vehicles were stopping for fuel. It was amazing how clear the targets looked, down to the wads of cash Dilaver was seen handing over to bribe the border guards. A sobbing and obviously very young girl was pushed into a small booth, followed by the two men.
“Slime. I’m going to look for him in my crosshairs.” Zone was the team sniper. Bad-tempered and rowdy, he was the total antithesis of the cool and collected sniper persona that men of his skill portrayed.
“He’s going to be the ex-slime who ate my hot lead,” Cucumber promised.
Jazz didn’t say anything. His grip on his weapon tightened. He didn’t like seeing women being hurt. He wondered what Vivi had been thinking when she had witnessed that part of the tape.
“This isn’t the ultimate take-down, men,” Hawk said quietly. “We’re playing a crucial role for GEM. Our initial mission has been a simple one. Team One across the river and Team Two here. When the bridge goes down, cutting the convoy in half, Team One was to eliminate anyone trying to take the trailer with the women. Team Two was to create enough smokescreen to cause Dilaver to escape. The idea was to make sure he thinks he’s being ambushed for the women.
“Now we have double the targets. The extra two vehicles also have a trailer, and it’s filled with weapons of some kind. We have no idea what they are but we know it’s going to the Triads. So Dilaver now has more firepower than we do, as well as men. Jazz?”
Jazz laid down his weapon and leaned over to change the screen back to show the bridge. “The tactical points haven’t changed. We’re still going to take this baby down. The timing, however, has to be adjusted. Five vehicles. We need to figure out how fast they are moving and which ones would be left on one side of the bank. The ideal picture is Dilaver’s convoy and probably one more vehicle, as well as the two trailers with the weapons and the girls. The others should be over on this side of the bridge so Dilaver is effectively cut off. He might have ample firepower but his men would be trapped on this side.”
“Where will we be?” Dirk asked.
“Over here. Teams One and Two will both be here on this side,” Hawk replied.
“Who’s going to be on the other side with Dilaver then? I know we have to let him escape but what about the women?” Cucumber asked.
“There is a slight disagreement on that point with Miss Verreau,” Jazz said, hoping none of his earlier irritation showed in his voice or expression.
“Miss Verreau wants her team on the other side alone while we deal with the bigger trouble here,” Hawk asserted.
“That makes sense,” Turner said. “We’ll take out the muscle. Miss Verreau and her team will get the girls.”
“Didn’t you hear the part about the new trailer, fool?” Cucumber chimed in. “I bet the disagreement has to do with that. Is she after that, too?”
Jazz shook her head. “No, she wants Dilaver to take off with the weapons.”
“That means Dilaver has free rein with whatever it is he has in his trailer,” Hawk said.
“And there is a possibility that he might have explosives,” Jazz continued.
“And use it on Miss Verreau and her team,” Cucumber guessed, his eyes squinting in thoughtful contemplation of the scenario playing in their minds. “Not ideal. What if Miss Verreau and her team fail and then Dilaver takes them hostage?”
“Or cancels her team,” Turner noted. He didn’t need to add that it would mean Vivi’s life would be in danger, too. “No way we can allow that. It would mean the loss of the girls too. Then what good is our taking out a bunch of Dilaver’s men over here? The bridge would be gone and it’d be impossible to go across in time to help.”
“So what’s the alternative?” Dirk asked. “Are we going to wait for Miss Verreau’s team before we decide?”
Hawk shook his head. “We come up with the alternatives and we give it to her. We know what we want to do, anyway.”
“Yeah, fight like hell,” Cucumber growled.
“Hooyah,” agreed several of Jazz’s team mates.
Jazz hadn’t added anything, preferring to hear the others’ opinions first. They all appeared to agree on one thing. Leaving Vivi and her team on one side wasn’t a good option. If anything went wro
ng, none of them would be able to lend her a hand. Besides, just thinking of her over there without him…he didn’t think he could bear it.
His blood had grown cold when she had suggested that during their earlier discussion. Had she any idea how big a battle this could be, with the extra firepower involved? The thought that she was going to be in the middle of it all, trying to wrestle a trailer of women away from armed thugs…oh hell, no way. Charlie’s Angels, his ass. He didn’t care what Hawk said about these women’s skills. Her team would just have to deal with some SEALs in the mix.
“I’m going over the other side,” Jazz announced quietly. He looked at Hawk. “I can take one of you with me or go alone. I want to set up extra charges to make sure Miss Verreau gets an open road with the trailer. And with extra charges, Dilaver might decide to take off quicker.”
“You’ll have to make sure our charges don’t get the girls’ trailer as well. That was Miss Verreau’s concern, that a big blast from either us or Dilaver might affect her taking that particular truck out of there.”
Jazz nodded in agreement. Of course Vivi hadn’t heard this part of the plan yet. He gave Hawk another direct gaze. Maybe she didn’t need to hear it. He had a feeling she would disagree. Hell, of course she would disagree. She had been keeping her little operation quiet from the team since day one because she knew none of them would be happy that she was doing the most dangerous part of the mission. Let’s face it. The SEALs were just going to shoot and kill. Vivi Verreau had to go into the middle of the firefight and somehow secure a trailer full of hysterical women. All this while Dilaver might be using heaven-knows-what from his cache.
Jazz wasn’t going to let his vision of being a grandpa go up in smoke. Vivi Verreau just had to get used to the idea of becoming a grandma with him.
Vivi stood in the back alley of the old warehouse. It was one of those places with lots of ledges and lofts, perfect for moving heavy objects up and down the side of the building. Also perfect for cat burglars. She stared into the darkness. She felt very calm, very ready.
“I followed the instructions in your package,” she announced in a bored voice. “You have ten seconds. I don’t have time.”
“I’m here.”
Again, the stranger took her by surprise by his sudden appearance. She had been very sure there was nobody standing where he was when she had looked. Yet there he was now, clad in solid black, his face masked by the black hood. He must be a magician or something. He took a few silent steps forward.
“You’ve gotten younger, Grandma,” he mocked, speaking the local dialect.
“Like I said, I’m in a hurry,” Vivi replied in English. He didn’t back away as she walked slowly toward him. “It’s time you start talking instead of showing off. What do you have on Sia-Sia?”
“I believe your question should be ‘What do I have to do for you to get more information about Sia-Sia?’”
Vivi stopped a few feet away. He would know soon enough that she wasn’t here to debate. “If you know me at all, you’ll know that I don’t negotiate that way. Give me what you have and maybe I’ll help you.”
His laugh was soft, amused. “Your team has a strange way of negotiating, then. I have what you want and not the other way round. I have been very polite so far, giving you the chance to check up on the first package, and not bothering you until you’re sure that you really want what I have. Won’t you return the courtesy?”
“Courtesy? For home invaders?” Vivi smiled. And attacked.
He blocked her easily and dodged another blow. His head moved left to avoid her right fist but she anticipated his agility and slammed a left kick to his knee. He grunted.
“It isn’t polite to be faceless in front of a woman,” she said, raising her voice as she continued her attack. He was fast, dodging another kick. She stepped on his foot hard. “It isn’t polite to steal into my bedroom and touch my nightie.” This time he attacked back and she released his foot and jumped out of his longer reach. She countered his move with a side twist, at the same time jamming an elbow against his solar plexus. Grunting harshly, he reeled back, stunned by the blow. “It isn’t polite to fight back when I’m not even hurting you yet. And it definitely isn’t polite to think you can use me.”
She leaped back several feet, giving him breathing room. She had made her point. For now. “You want me to help you, you’d better start talking straight, mister. If you come onto my property without permission again and leave little knickknacks behind, I’m not going to promise to be nice anymore.”
He was silent as he clutched his solar plexus. He was breathing very hard, as if the whole thing surprised him more than it had hurt him. Usually, an elbow in that region would down a man pretty quickly but he didn’t seem to be in great pain.
“Perhaps I should wait for another time, when your temper has cooled,” he said, after a few moments.
Vivi smiled at the huskiness of his voice. Yeah, he was hurting just a little. He lifted one hand, and she recognized the move from before. “Oh no,” she said as she lunged forward. “You aren’t going to run off and play hide-and-seek with me again.”
He was a few seconds faster as he launched into the air. “I don’t fight with women,” he said, as the line pulled him several feet above her. “You won’t see me again till I’m ready.”
Vivi watched as he zipped up toward the balcony. She leaned against the wall, head cocked. Counted to three.
Since Vivi was expecting it, she caught the dark silhouette jumping out from the top of the building just above the masked man. It was silent ballet at its best. The man looked up in his mid-flight through the air, too late to stop the new intruder slamming into him.
That woman, Vivi mused as she watched her chief wrap both of her long legs around the man, was totally fearless. She had to be, to jump off at that height and expect to catch her target rocketing upward at the same time. As the two of them swung from the impact, she saw the glint of metal as it caught some light reflected from the windowpanes. Then the two bodies tumbled onto the balcony nearby. Several seconds of scuffling. Silence.
“That sounds painful,” she called up. “Do you need any help?”
T. leaned over. “Nope. You get going to your next little adventure, darling. Mr. Masked Man will be sleeping this off for a while. He isn’t going to be happy when he wakes up and finds out he’s been set up.”
Jazz and Cucumber unzipped their waterproof haversacks. Vivi hadn’t called back yet and Hawk had decided they couldn’t wait any longer. Jazz needed the time to set up shop and Cucumber wanted upfront action. He hoped Vivi would call soon.
He wiped his hands dry so he could better handle the second set of explosives. C-4 looked, felt, and acted like putty. Earlier, he had made a ribbonlike device out of it to wrap around the steel girder of the bridge. Now he was going to shape the stuff differently to create craters at strategic points of the dirt road.
He pulled the white material from its box, giving it to Cucumber. Then he took out the TNT and set it on the ground. From his sack, Cucumber pulled out the Prima-cord, which would connect the fuses, and handed it to him. Their plan was to make a set of little charges go off at the same time about fifteen meters in front of the bridge as well as prime the ditches alongside the kill zone.
Jazz took the block of TNT and started to carefully adjust the blasting cap to the threaded receptacle on the ends while Cucumber used a tiny flashlight. This was the trickiest part since the blasting cap could go off if handled carelessly.
“Fuse,” he said softly. Cucumber handed him a section of the coil. He cut six inches off the end and discarded it. Quickly, he cut a section about six feet long. Then he lit it and timed the delay to make sure it was proper.
Timing was very important. It usually took about four minutes before the small flash of fire at the end of the fuse. That meant forty seconds per foot of fuse. He cut a healthy length, enough for a five-or six-minute delay. He repeated the procedure, making sure Cucumber’s was
the same length so both blasts would go off simultaneously.
“Blasting cap.” Taking one end of the det cord, he gently slipped it as well as an end of the primer fuse through to connect the ignition charge of the blasting cap before inserting it into the TNT block. He reached for the crimpers in his pouch. Cucumber and he worked quickly and silently as they prepared the needed number of blocks, and when they were finished, they gave each other the thumbs-up.
Jazz wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Adjusting his mike, he said quietly, “We’re ready, over.”
“What’s the delay time before detonation, over?” Hawk asked from the lookout point.
“Five minutes.” He would light the fuse only when Hawk gave the signal. “Has she called yet?”
“Negative, over.”
He needed to talk to her. Where the hell was she? He had the whole thing orchestrated and he needed everyone to be exactly where he wanted them so they could “play off the same sheet of music,” as covert operatives would say.
“We have hours yet. Quit worrying,” Hawk continued.
“You’re pretty confident about someone you never worked with and a team you never saw, bud.” It was totally unlike Hawk.
“The admiral assured me she has run teams before and I’ll take the big man’s word. And being that she has run teams, she would know to communicate her plans to me. It’s a tough call. I know it, you know it. She knows it.”
Jazz understood the meaning behind Hawk’s words. It was because she was a female. There had never been a woman in the teams. Neither he nor his teammates had ever worked with one during a battle before. As coleader, he had to express any discomfort by his team, even if it was against the woman in whom he was interested. And he knew his guys were concerned, more so than Hawk’s men. The latter had, as Hawk had pointed out earlier, seen another GEM operative in action a couple of months ago.
“Jazz, I’ve already said the same things you’re thinking of. You can tell your guys over the mike what Mad Dog said to me.”
