Assessing?
Yes, but that wasn’t a problem. Given the gassing that they’d just experienced, he’d assess any agent on his team.
Worried?
Yes, but a bit of worry was typical territory on any problematic job. Each agent played an integral role in the work of the team. If there was a weak link, the leader needed to be aware and work around it.
With one more bright flash of emergency light, Ace’s dark blue eyes were illuminated again, and Bingo! the problematic emotion zinged her way.
Lingering tenderness.
Tenderness was an issue because it was a close cousin to caring. Worse, tenderness was in the family of…that dangerous four-letter l-word, which hadn’t escaped her lips since September 11, 2001, when she’d hung on to her phone with all her might as her father told her goodbye for the last time. Her head renewed its incessant pounding, keeping pace with the strobe of the emergency light.
Look on the bright side. He hasn’t said ‘I love you.’ Unfortunately…or maybe fortunately…he’s got as many problems with that issue as me.
But tenderness and its attendant other emotions, even without the l-word, were trouble. None signaled logic or rational thought. Such heartfelt emotions had no place on any Black Raven job.
“You okay?” His voice was loud, clear, and signified too much concern for her well-being.
‘Bomp-bomp-bomp.’
Over the emergency instruction, this time in Spanish, she said, “Stop worrying about me.”
“I would ask any agent who was coming out of ether-induced analgesia, and who wasn’t moving, that question. I’m assuming they’re coming for Chloe and Zack, since we haven’t made an appearance at the theater. If you’re okay, move your ass. If you’re not okay, tell me. I’ve got first aid to help with the aftereffects.”
She hadn’t realized that she’d stopped moving. Unlike her, he was in action, making two stacks of gear and clothes on the suite’s carpeted floor from trunks that were nestled in the crawl space. Black slacks, times two. Armor plates for her, since his were already on his chest and back. Boots, times two.
“You sound different.”
“The mic system with these helmet respirators is pretty unsophisticated.” He glanced again in her direction, before bending down, then coming up with two knives, sheathed in black leather holsters, connected to thigh straps. “You know that, though. What do you mean, different?”
“It sounds like you’re thinking of me differently.”
He paused, a grenade in each hand, and glanced her way. “Paranoid?”
“No.”
“Look, I intended to talk things through a helluva lot better. Could be you’re just hearing me differently, now that we—”
“That’s not it. We’re bickering. Like a long-married couple.”
He shrugged, adding transparent nylon bags of climbing rope and carabiners to their piles. “Seems a lot like one of our typical discussions to me.”
“No. We’re acting like a couple—”
“That was my point earlier. We’ve acted like a couple from the beginning, except for one big omission.”
A visual flashed through her mind, of what they’d done in bed earlier. Where their mouths had been. Where hers had been, in particular. “How was I so oblivious?”
Her words were low, barely a mumble, but his chuckle indicated that he heard her. “We were both oblivious. Issues, Leo. Issues. We both have them. We just need to work through them.”
‘Bomp-bomp-bomp.’
Shaking off her frustration with the annoying sound of the PA system, she resumed crawling again, as the emergency instructions were repeated in Chinese. “I’ll gladly shoot Raznick to get him to shut up. Don’t you think anyone planning on following that damn instruction would have done so by now?”
“Probably not. I opened my eyes about forty minutes ago. It was a long time before I was well enough to get you out of the room.” He paused, gave her a look she couldn’t read, then cocked his head, watching her forward progress. “You’ve had the benefit of being carried to the balcony, and breathing fresh air, and you’re still moving slow. I bet half the guests are just waking from their ether nap. They don’t have our training and aren’t in the shape we’re in. It’s going to take them a long time to get all one hundred fifty guests to the theater.”
“Stop looking at my boobs.”
He dragged his gaze back to her eyes. “I’m guessing irritability means you’re starting to feel better?”
“Yes.” She grimaced as she reached the stack he’d laid out for her. “The wooziness is gone. I still need this splitting headache to go away, though. And, I damn well need to figure out how to cure the problem we’ve created for ourselves.”
“You said we wouldn’t fall into bed again, as though you’re thinking that’s a cure.”
“Yes. That’s a given. But you need to stop looking at me like, like…with…”
He bent down. When he reappeared, each hand held a Springfield Armory M1A close quarter combat rifle. “Use your words.”
“Screw you. Tenderness. That kind of feeling has no place on a job.”
“I can’t help how I feel about you, and I’m not going to fight it. It’s like you’re…” He placed a rifle next to her pile, then added extra clips to both piles. “…my endless summer. Hey. I’m liking this. I can’t believe I was so speechless after our kiss. It’s as though you’re the ocean, on a warm August morning. Together, we’ll experience the most perfect waves imaginable.”
“I might’ve liked it better when you were speechless,” she mumbled. The truth was, she was touched by his words, but logic quickly prevailed. His sentimental analogy, equating her with his surfer’s version of nirvana, not only showed her how deep his feelings ran, it added another layer of concern. If only her head wasn’t hurting so badly, maybe she could think through a way to make him focus on the task at hand.
Dammit. Think!
As he added M84s—flashbang grenades—and a handheld thermal imaging scope to his backpack, he glanced at her. “Sig Sauer or Glock?”
Hell. He is focusing. I’m the one with the problem.
There’d be time to worry about the emotions that had inspired his surfing sentiment later. The more pressing question was which handgun she felt like carrying. She liked that the 9mm Sig Sauer P226 required a more deliberate trigger press to launch the first shot. Other times, she wanted her hand on a Glock 19.
“Earth to Agent Leon. With your comms and your tablet, you’re up to over twenty pounds of gear so far. You’ll be belly crawling through narrow spaces with your backpack and your rifle, so—”
“Both.”
He put both handguns in her pile. “I don’t think you should take a night vision scope too. It’ll add too much bulkiness.”
“Agreed. I’d prefer the extra firepower. Including cameras. They don’t weigh much and might be useful after I reestablish connectivity.” She picked up the Sig Sauer and continued crawling past him.
“Where are you going?”
“Fifteen-second bathroom break.” Glancing behind her, she realized she was well past the visual range of the balcony door. No one from the neighboring ship would see her walking across the room to the bathroom. She stood, lifting the hand that carried the gun. Once her head caught up to her movement, she started walking, unsteadily, to the bathroom. “If they come for us, I’m ready.”
She was almost to the door when she heard the muffled pop-pop-pop of gunfire. She glanced over her shoulder at Ace, whose gaze was locked on her butt. “Hey. Surfer boy. Focus on the task. That was from the floor below us. Agree?”
His gaze lifted to meet hers. Grimness in his eyes told her that while her butt might have provided a focal point, his brain was on the job. He nodded, confirming her guess as to where the gunfire, which was now followed by screams, originated. “Midship. Based on earlier gunfire, it sounds like they’re moving towards the stern.”
“So we know a few things. Razni
ck’s trying to get everyone to the theater,” she said.
He nodded. “And we know he’s calm about it. Doesn’t sound coerced.”
“But he’s damn persistent.” She stepped into the bathroom. “So, my guess is not everyone has shown up there.”
“Agree. Guests may have been detouring elsewhere, with the assistance of security. I seriously doubt any of the security personnel on this ship would follow his instruction.”
“Unless they’re in on it,” she said. “And we know they’re using weapons to assist in the search.”
“They–whomever they are–are likely only searching the rooms of people who haven’t arrived at the theater. Like us. Let’s assume the search team we’re hearing has almost finished with the floor below us. They’ll likely climb the stairwell that’s in the stern and start on our floor.”
As she used the toilet and the sink, through the audio system in her helmet, she listened to Ace’s calm breathing. It helped her collect her thoughts, as her brain started firing normally. “Our ether nap started around 1930 hours. correct?”
“Closer to eight o’clock. I’d put it at 1945. Right before I passed out, I had promised to wake you in ten minutes. I checked my watch.”
“When you were in the shower, you had just confirmed with Stills that most guests were in their rooms. Our agents were disbursed around the ship.”
“Yes. Hopefully, that works in our favor. It would be good if our team had all hands on deck. No pun intended. We also know that the disbursement of guests must have worked in their favor, too. We’ll have to figure out why.”
“Disbursement of guests would have helped to separate guests from security.” She took an extra few seconds to wash her hands, then risked lifting the helmet to splash cold water in her mouth.
By the time she emerged, Ace was dressed and strapping a knife above his ankle, underneath his cargo pants. She shimmied into tight body armor, then pulled on looser pants and a shirt, all black. With each added ounce of gear, Leo felt more like herself. When she strapped on a tool belt containing a stun gun, a clip with a grenade, hand ties, and a holster for her Sig Sauer, her head was finally free from the fuzziness caused by the sedative.
“Catch.” He tossed a compact battery-operated, pivoting power tool in her direction. With controls and an eyepiece on the handle, the working end was a fully retractable, pivoting camera and screwdriver, capable of angling in any direction. In the handle were alternate heads–flat ones of varying dimensions and Phillips heads. Engineered by Black Raven, the device was necessary for maneuvering quickly through areas where they’d have to unscrew panels and vents from inside crawl spaces. Four screws were a standard configuration on Imagine’s crawl space and access panels. “And another for backup.”
As she caught the second screwdriver and slipped it into one of the pockets at her thigh, she asked, “Superstitious?”
“No. Prepared.”
Armed and equipped, she started to feel less like a woman who’d fallen prey to emotional weakness. Which she had, the second she’d let kissing Ace seem like an idea worth entertaining.
Okay. So, I’m human. Snap out of it. Be better next time.
She’d sort through her feelings after the job, when she was on her couch, eating pizza, peanut M&M’s, and popcorn, and catching up on the football she’d missed while working. She watched him put a Glock into a shoulder harness. He handed it to her. As she strapped it on, she promised herself that no matter the end result, she wouldn’t let her feelings for him become a weakness. “Thanks for the help with the gear.”
“Under the circumstances, I’d have provided an assist to any agent suffering aftereffects of sedation.” He studied her for a split second, then bent to replace the wood panel over the crawl space. “You’re better now, right?”
“Yep. Ready to kick some ass. Once we figure out whose ass to kick.” Lacing her combat boots, then reaching into her backpack for her hand-held navigation system, laptop, tablet, and phone, she said, “I thought we’d use the crawl space beneath the floor.”
He gave a quick headshake as he replaced the screws that held the floor panel in place. “No. That won’t lead where we want to go. You need to get to the radio room without them spotting you on surveillance. Plus, re-rolling the rug’s slightly problematic if we both go out through the floor. I don’t want to give them a reason to look in there and spot weapons. We don’t want to let them know we’re here.”
“Care to share the plan?” She had ideas, but he was her superior.
“The crawl space above us leads to the aft service stairwell, which isn’t on surveillance. From there, we can access the crawl space that’s above the Clio Deck. You’ll go all the way to the bow, where you’ll go through the forward service stairwell to get to the radio room and do your thing.”
“What will you do, while I’m doing all the work?”
“Assess the enemy.” He shrugged, with a smile. “Regain control of the ship.”
“Sounds easy. A few details are missing though. Like how.”
He gave her a serious, distant look, as he thought through scenarios. He knew the only acceptable ending. So did she. Disable the bad guys, whatever it took, while losing no innocents. Black Ravens return home safely. Multiple avenues could lead to the ending, each with drawbacks.
“Going into the helm station isn’t an option,” she said. “Agreed?”
He nodded. “Yep. By now, accessibility is an issue. Even if we could get past their firepower there, electronic and manual locks would slow us down for too long.”
She nodded. “And by now, they’ve changed the exterior override codes. With just two of us there, we’d be easy targets while we tried to figure it out.”
From outside their suite, further down the hall, someone pounded on a door. The crack of a doorjamb giving way reverberated, as a man yelled words that were almost unintelligible. She heard enough. While Ace didn’t speak Mandarin, she was fluent. “Mandarin. Directing hands in the air.”
“It’s the primary language of one-fifth of the guests, and the primary language of most of the employees of Quan Security,” he said, referring to the private company that was Imagine’s Tier One security, hired by Imagine Casinos Worldwide. There was a pop-pop-pop of gunfire, followed by more yelling. From the opposite direction in the hallway, there was more pounding on doors. “Two search teams are working now.”
“Sounds like it,” she said. “If we took out whoever is getting ready to come into our room, we could use their comm system. At least to hear them communicate with one another.”
Ace glanced at her as he rerolled the rug and smoothed the edges out with his feet. “No. I thought we might stick around for that, but now that I know there’s more than one team working our hallway, it doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to be in a firefight with an unknown number of combatants. We’re blind in here, and our priority has to be to establish a Mayday. Not kill one or two of these fuckers. Plus, once we start shooting, I want to do it in a way that doesn’t alert the enemy to our presence. We need to put that off as long as possible.”
She nodded her agreement as she powered up her laptop and her handheld navigation system, while he jumped on top of the vanity and started unscrewing the entry panel. “Because once we start killing them, they’ll start killing hostages to get us to stop.”
“Correct. But only if they figure out we’re killing them,” he said. “Right now, they’re still in assembly mode, which gives us time. We don’t know if they’ve made any demands yet. I don’t want them to find out about us until you’re well on the way to alerting Ragno and the outside world to the hijacking. Or whatever this siege might be classified as.”
“Sounds logical.” Glancing at the laptop screen, she clicked through commands that would provide access to Imagine’s satellite-driven internet and telecommunications capabilities. “As we expected, access is disabled. There’s no connection.”
“What about opening a line with our agents aboard
Imagine?”
“Without connectivity and transmission capability, I can’t open a comm channel with our agents on the ship through our implants—that’s the way we need to be communicating with the other agents. Our safety helmet comm system is fine for us, but it works the same way a child’s walkie-talkie would. If you and I were more than fifty yards away from each other, the helmet comms would be useless. If the following ship has satellite access…” She clicked through dead ends on her laptop. “I can’t find it.”
“GPS reading?”
Glancing at her handheld nav system, she studied the GPS data, then shoved all the devices into her backpack, zipping it as she crossed the room. “They’re sending a false signal. Radar signal shows that Imagine is on course, a hundred fifty miles Southeast of Macau.”
“How do you know that’s false?”
“Easy. The radar image is showing no sign of the following ship. God knows where we’re really headed. We were knocked out for four hours. We could be anywhere by now.” She lifted her backpack and tossed it his way. “Here. Catch.”
She watched Ace catch her backpack, then heft it up and into the overhead crawl space. “The South China Sea provides access to any number of places that could be a safe haven for kidnappers and a ship full of billionaire hostages. Indonesia. Malaysia. Singapore Straits.”
“Agreed. Even North Korea? You can never tell what they’re up to. Plus, there are any number of pirate friendly ports in North Africa. None of which would take very long to get to for the ship behind us, assuming it has serious horsepower in its engines.”
As he talked, Leo stepped on the vanity stool, then onto the marble counter, facing him as she lifted her arms to the ceiling. “Boost me up.” When they were at eye level, she added, “I’m betting they’re going to transfer the guests to the other ship.”
Chapter Nine
1:00 a.m.
While Ace considered her statement, Leo managed to pull herself upwards, with only slight help from him. “Using the following ship as a transport vessel is a clever idea. Mobility enhances the likelihood of success in hostage negotiations.”
Imagine (Black Raven Book 4) Page 9
