Crossfire

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  The road and the surrounding grounds were quiet except for the two-man patrol that was currently fifty yards to his right. The interior of the house was equally calm. The miniature listening device he’d installed when he and Brent had first arrived nearly six hours earlier was still transmitting, but at the moment the only sound he heard was the droning of a television.

  Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be except for the unexplained sense of anticipation coursing through him. Shifting once more, Seth angled toward Brent so that he could signal him to move out. If they moved now, they could clear the better part of the yard before the patrol made it to the front of the building once more. To his surprise and relief, Brent signaled him first, apparently having a similar sense of misgiving.

  The two men moved in tandem as they left the safety of the bushes and slipped quietly through the night. They cleared the first fifty yards of the open field before the sound of the patrol approaching caused them to drop to the ground and use the darkness as cover. The minutes stretched out as the patrol inspected the front of the house.

  Staying low to the ground, Seth and Brent had begun moving forward once more when they heard something out of place. Absolute silence. Whatever animals had been rustling around in the trees were now noticeably hushed. The two SEALs were experienced enough to suspect why the sounds of the night had ceased. There was still life in the surrounding woods—it was life of the two-legged variety.

  Brent motioned for Seth to move beside him and then asked through hand signals if he had received any communication from their support team. Seth shook his head as both men considered the possibilities. Their commander would have notified them if there was any movement by the local authorities against this training facility. And if it wasn’t a local police or military force that had caused the intense silence, then it was probably a training exercise or some kind of conflict between warring terrorist cells. Either way, Seth and Brent were lying right in the middle of what was likely to be a battlefield within a matter of minutes.

  Seth’s mind raced as he considered their options. They could move forward and hope that they could penetrate the line of intruders without being seen, or they could stay where they were and hope that the attack would come from a different direction. Their extraction point was over three miles away, not a significant distance for two highly trained military operatives, but far enough that they wouldn’t want to have to make a run for it if they were being shot at.

  The rumbling of a truck in the distance and the sight of approaching headlights told them they didn’t have any more time to decide. Brent signaled to move forward, and Seth nodded, pointing in a direction forty-five degrees to the right of their position. As they angled away from the driveway, the night patrol came rushing to the front of the house to investigate the sound of the approaching vehicle.

  A few seconds later, shouts sounded as a set of floodlights illuminated the house and surrounding yard. Brent and Seth were barely beyond the swath of light as the two guards opened fire and a dozen or so armed men came rushing out the front door of the building. The grass wasn’t long enough to hide them, and both men knew that if anyone looked their direction, they would be spotted.

  Praying that the men were too preoccupied to worry about them, they continued forward, a little faster now. From the woods a burst of light illuminated the area as a projectile was fired toward the house, breaking a window as it entered the building. Movement shifted in the trees as a voice came over a loudspeaker. Brent and Seth looked at each other in surprise. The intruders were the police.

  Though he knew it was risky, Seth made the decision to hazard using his communication device to contact their commanding officer, Kel Bennett. “Police on premises. Please advise.”

  “What?” The voice filled with surprise and fury wasn’t Kel’s but rather Quinn Lambert’s. “Stand by.”

  Seth bit back on his impatience as he continued crawling forward, knowing that this conflict wasn’t going to be settled peacefully. They were only ten yards from the shelter of the trees when someone must have spotted them. The gunfire sparking toward the bunkhouse suddenly shifted, and bullets began whizzing just inches above their heads.

  “Go!” Brent ordered. Both men dropped flat onto their stomachs and rolled the last few yards. Breathing heavily, they took cover behind a couple of palm trees as bullets continued to spark around them.

  “What’s the story, Quinn?” Seth’s voice was still low, but now it was filled with urgency. “We’re taking fire from the cops.”

  “Intel still isn’t giving us anything. We can’t identify who’s in charge of this op.”

  “Advise,” Brent interrupted, his voice sharp and to the point.

  “We’re airborne. ETA to extraction point, five minutes.”

  “Copy that.” Seth said before speaking to Brent once more. “Let’s go; they’ve got to have some vehicles parked down the road.”

  Brent nodded, his eyes already turning away from the threat as he searched for an escape route. A bullet struck a tree mere inches from Brent’s arm. “Give me some cover fire.”

  Seth didn’t hesitate. He squatted down and aimed his weapon high as he shot off three quick bursts. Brent’s footsteps were nearly silent, but Seth counted off the seconds that it would take him to clear the trees and make it to the road. If Brent could find them a vehicle, they had a chance of making it out alive without having to go toe-to-toe with the local cops. If not, someone wasn’t going to live to see morning.

  “I’ve got it.” Brent’s voice came over the headset. As soon as Brent gave him the command, Seth started after Brent, relying on him to keep the cops at bay while he zigzagged through the trees. A few shots strayed after him despite Brent’s efforts, and Seth was both amazed and grateful that he emerged onto the street still intact.

  Seth continued at a dead run to the truck Brent had commandeered. Fifteen seconds later, Seth was in the driver’s seat as Brent kept his weapon pointed out the window to keep whoever was following them occupied. With gunfire sounding around them, Seth started to reach under the dash to hot-wire the car only to notice the key already in the ignition. He didn’t take time to consider their good fortune; instead, he quickly started the car and slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The truck sprang forward with a squeal of the tires, and they were on their way.

  “Are we clear?” Seth asked as the truck gained speed.

  A bullet shattered the back window, and both men ducked. “Does that answer your question?”

  Seth muttered under his breath as he caught sight of the headlights behind them. He took a sharp corner without slowing down, finally drawing a breath and speaking into his lip microphone. “Quinn, what’s your ETA?”

  “One minute.”

  “We’re coming in hot,” Seth informed him in a clipped tone that disguised the Southern drawl that normally hung in his voice. “Any chance you’ve figured out who these cops are that are shooting at us?”

  “Negative.” Quinn’s voice was short and hard. “We’ve contacted the policia in the three nearest towns, but all of them say they aren’t involved.”

  “Maybe these guys aren’t really cops,” Brent suggested. Several more shots struck the back of the truck, causing him to wince. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  Seth nodded in agreement as Brent took aim and shot at the vehicle pursuing them. The sound of bullets striking metal rang through the air followed by the squeal of tires against the pavement as the driver tried to brake as he rounded another corner. A moment later, Seth heard the thud of the car connecting with a tree, followed by the crumpling of metal.

  They were nearly to the extraction site when he heard the thrumming sound of the helicopter lowering in the field in front of them. Moments later he and Brent abandoned their vehicle and sprinted to where Kel had landed. As they strapped in and lifted off, flames shot into the distant sky. Seth took a deep breath and uttered a silent prayer of gratitude that they had made it out of the battle safel
y.

  3

  Vanessa flipped through the registration system, annoyed to see the resort completely booked for the next two weeks. She knew that for a typical hotel this would be a good thing, but this place was anything but typical. While Punta Cana was heavily populated with resorts and hotels appealing primarily to European and American tourists, La Playa catered to a more selective audience.

  Small and exclusive, the resort was visited by guests from all over the world—guests that all had one thing in common: an intense hatred for anything and everything American. Arms dealers, drug dealers, renegade militant leaders. Their professions varied, but their goals were all the same. They all wanted to see the capitalist empire of the United States crumble, and they wanted to see Americans bleed.

  When Vanessa had first arrived, she had been considered a guest, being granted one of the resort’s beach casitas to live in. Within a few weeks, Akil had trusted her to take over the management of the restaurant. Four months later the hotel manager had mysteriously disappeared and Vanessa had moved up into that role.

  Her access to information had increased greatly with the promotion, but there were still obstacles to overcome. Vanessa frowned slightly as she pictured the face of Halim Karel, Akil’s top advisor at the resort. Halim seemed determined to keep her in the dark when it came to the inner workings of Akil’s growing empire.

  She pushed thoughts of Halim aside and continued scanning the guest list for any new names worth passing along to her contact. Peripherally, she became aware of a new set of guests signing in at the front desk right outside of her door. Her mind was so focused on the information in front of her that she didn’t notice the raised voices until an argument in the lobby was well underway. She moved closer to her door and listened.

  “This is unacceptable,” the middle-aged man complained loudly. “I need at least two more rooms for my guards.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have that many rooms available,” the clerk, Maria, insisted for what was clearly not the first time.

  The man let out a frustrated breath. “Where’s the manager?”

  Vanessa pushed open her office door and moved to stand beside the desk clerk. “Can I help you?”

  “I want to speak with the manager.”

  “I’m the manager.” Vanessa’s tone was calm and authoritative. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Your girl here only gave me three rooms. I need at least five.”

  Giving Maria a knowing look, Vanessa motioned for her to step aside so she could look at the computer screen. “I’m sorry, but you already have a casita and two other rooms even though you only have five people in your party.”

  “You expect my guards to share quarters?”

  “Your casita has two bedrooms, and each of the rooms in the main building has two beds each.” Vanessa pointed out. “Even if your guards all sleep at the same time, you have more than enough beds to go around. And, of course, if you felt the need to bring guards, I have to believe that at least one of them will be working at any given time.”

  “Do you know who I am?” The man leaned forward as he assumed a threatening posture.

  Vanessa’s eyebrows lifted in amusement. Before she could answer, Halim Karel approached the desk. As always, Halim was impeccably dressed in an Italian suit despite the heat and humidity. Amusement crossed his handsome face as well as he put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Diego, it is good to see you.” Halim shifted to shake the man’s hand and then nodded to Vanessa. “I’m so pleased you found time to visit us again. It must have been some time since you’ve been here if you have not met Lina Ramir.”

  Vanessa watched the man’s expression change when Halim emphasized the last name. He looked from Halim to Vanessa and then back again. “I wasn’t aware that anyone from the Ramir family worked here.”

  “We are fortunate that Lina was able to join us last year.” Halim’s eyes were direct, and he held Diego’s gaze.

  Vanessa picked up the room keys that were sitting on the counter. Motioning to a bellhop, she said simply, “I’m sure that your accommodations will be more than adequate. Perhaps you should take the time to see them for yourself before we discuss this any further.”

  Diego looked from Halim to Vanessa. His voice was calmer now, edged with a new sense of reservation. “Yes, of course.”

  Vanessa handed the keys to the bellhop and instructed him, “Show this gentleman and his guests to their rooms.”

  “Yes, miss.” The bellhop took the keys and quickly escorted Diego away from the desk.

  As soon as they left, Vanessa nodded to Maria. Her voice was aloof and authoritative. “Let me know if you have any more difficulties with him.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Vanessa stepped out from behind the counter and moved to the path leading to the beach. She wasn’t surprised that Halim moved to her side. Staring out at the water in front of them, she said, “I could have handled the situation without your help.”

  “He shouldn’t have been speaking to you that way.” Halim shifted so that he was facing her, a combination of concern and that familiar spark of interest showing on his face. “I worry that you work too hard.”

  When he reached over to caress her cheek, Vanessa gave a little shrug and took a step back. “I’m fine.”

  “It’s my job to make sure you stay that way.” Halim smiled, his attractive face not showing a trace of his dark side now. “Besides, I enjoy keeping an eye on you.”

  “I need to get back to work,” Vanessa told him, trying to keep the conversation on a professional level. Halim’s interest in her didn’t seem to be waning, despite the fact that she had never done anything to encourage him.

  “Me too. I’ll see you at dinner tonight,” Halim said, his eyes lingering on her a moment longer. He then moved toward the path that led to the casitas.

  As she watched him walk away, she sighed, wishing her life wasn’t quite so complicated. Halim was handsome, suave, even interesting, and he didn’t have the fanatical look in his eyes that Vanessa saw in many of the guests who came through La Playa. Sometimes she could almost believe he was what he looked like—simply a man who was interested in a woman—but Vanessa knew better. The man was evil.

  She didn’t know what Halim had done to prove his loyalty at such a young age, but at thirty-five years old he was clearly the man Akil trusted to run the day-to-day operations at La Playa. Those operations ranged from keeping a steady stream of weapons moving through the resort to holding strategy sessions with VIP guests during their stays.

  Vanessa shifted her gaze and stared out at the beach for a moment. The view was so perfect, so peaceful. Sometimes she could almost forget that in the surrounding buildings people were plotting to destroy the freedoms and even the very lives of her countrymen.

  She tried to push aside the sinking feeling she’d had for some time now—that something was wrong. Akil Ramir hadn’t visited the resort in several months, and Vanessa was still hoping to find out where he was. Only twice in the past six months had he shown up at La Playa, each time arriving on his private plane and staying for only two or three days. Unfortunately, every time Akil was present, he made a point of dropping in to see her at odd times. Sometimes he had questions about the resort operations, and other times he acted like a concerned uncle.

  Akil’s unpredictability and the increased security that always accompanied him inevitably made it impossible for Vanessa to sneak out to meet with her contact when he was there. If he was there. The anxious knot in her stomach tightened as she thought about the failed meeting the previous evening. Now even if she did manage to gather the information everyone so desperately wanted, she might not have a way to pass it on.

  With a sigh, she turned back toward her office. The only thing she could be sure of was that she had to maintain the appearance that she really was Lina Ramir or she would have a lot more to worry about than why Devin Granger hadn’t shown up the night before.

  * *
*

  Seth and Quinn headed toward the communications office on board the USS Harry S. Truman. Both men were unusually quiet. The report had arrived an hour before that the vehicle Brent had disabled, the vehicle that had been in active pursuit of Seth and Brent, had been carrying three police officers from Soto. All three police officers were currently in the hospital, one still in critical condition.

  A look at the ship’s communication log revealed that two calls had taken place between the ship’s personnel and the Soto police station the day before. The first call had been initiated by the comm room early in the morning, and the other had been an incoming call just minutes before the police had arrived on scene, where Brent and Seth had come under fire.

  Since Brent was still in debriefings, Kel had sent Seth and Quinn to find out exactly what had transpired during those two conversations and to determine who had withheld much needed information from their squad.

  Seth pushed open the hatch and folded his enormous frame through the doorway, followed by Quinn. Seth zeroed in on a young ensign and said, “I’m looking for the military liaison officer who was on duty yesterday.”

  The ensign reached for a clipboard. “That was Lieutenant Kiefer.”

  “That’s who I talked to the first time yesterday,” Quinn told Seth before turning back to the ensign. “When is he on duty next?”

  “He’s right over there.” The ensign pointed to the far side of the room.

  “Thanks.” Seth shifted his focus to the relatively thin, sandy-haired man who was sitting at a communications station. “Lieutenant Kiefer?” Seth began, waiting for the man to look up at him before continuing. “We need your reports on your contact with the Soto police department yesterday.”

  “There wasn’t much to them.” He shrugged but made no movement to retrieve the reports.

  “Can you tell us what the police told you?” Seth continued, already irritated with the cavalier attitude of the man in front of him.

  “I called them early yesterday morning to make sure they didn’t have any activity scheduled in the hot spot, but the police chief wasn’t available, so I left a message for him to call me back.”