by Katie Reus
The smile that spread across her face told him he must have said something right. “Good, because I don’t share,” she murmured in that sexy, sensual voice, and tugged him down for another quick kiss.
At the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, they both pulled back on a sigh. He hated that they had to head back into reality, but the sooner this op was over, the sooner they could start a future together.
Chapter 19
Command center: central location for processing data, giving orders, and supervising a critical situation.
“You two, with me,” Burkhart ordered, nodding once at Tucker and Cole as he passed where they were talking quietly at one of the tables.
Not needing to be told twice, they both jumped up and followed after him. Tucker noticed that Vane wasn’t with them and wondered where he was. Maybe Burkhart hadn’t wanted Vane to see this place. All Tucker knew was, they’d better not have let that bastard go.
Burkhart stopped at another table where a printout of a detailed schematic of one of the D.C. Metro stops had been rolled out. There was also a laptop open with a 3-D image of the same thing. Half a dozen men and women were all looking at handheld devices, likely with the same specs. Was Burkhart bringing them in on an op?
He tensed in anticipation at the thought and spared a glance at Cole, who he could tell was thinking the same thing. He resisted the urge to look over at Karen, who was busy typing away at a computer station with Elliott, Selene, and three others who he guessed were analysts. It was hard to believe that he’d just been inside Karen about five minutes ago. Something he did not need to be thinking about right now. It didn’t help that her cheeks were still flushed. He was counting down the seconds until they could be alone again.
“Vane has set up a meeting with Thad Hillenbrand,” Burkhart started, eyeing the quiet group of eight, which included Tucker and Cole. “Everyone’s been debriefed.” His gaze flicked to them for a moment. “I’ve been in contact with the heads of any agency—including the DEA, but only in a limited capacity—with a vested interest in you two and your teammates. And only the heads—we can’t risk a leak if there are more dirty agents. They know you’re not terrorists, but we’re not informing the media or anyone without a top-level clearance yet. We want Hillenbrand in custody before that happens. Even so, I’m giving you the option of being part of the team to bring him down.”
Tucker guessed he was doing it out of respect for Max. He didn’t much care what the reason was; he was just grateful to be part of the operation. “What’d the DEA say?”
Burkhart shrugged. “They’re pissed and want access to you two and Vane.”
From his tone it was clear the DEA wasn’t getting their way. Fine with Tucker. “Where’s Vane?”
“Restrained and waiting in an SUV a couple blocks from here.”
“You’re sure he’s not setting you up?” Tucker asked.
“We’re not sure of anything, but we’ve got two trackers on him. Only one he knows about.” Burkhart grinned at that. “All his financials are frozen at this point and he knows there’s nowhere for him to run, so it’d be stupid to try. Even if he does, we’ve got him boxed in. The meeting goes down in an hour. Before then I want you two to listen to the audio between Vane and Hillenbrand.”
Tucker started to nod, and then Karen strode up to their group. Her cheeks flushed only the slightest bit as she looked at him, but she swallowed hard and held out a tablet for Burkhart.
After a second of scanning, Burkhart grinned and nodded at her. “We’ll add it to the warrant.” His attention was on the agents now. “Vane gave us the address for where he’s been meeting with Hillenbrand. It was buried deep, but Karen found a link between the address and H-Brand Security. We’ve got eyes all over the city looking for him, Rayford Osborn and a few other conspirators Vane gave us. There are ten of them total and it seems he has an administrative person from the local D.C. PD in his pocket. It was how he knew Karen’s name from when she went missing. We’re not moving on any of them, though. Not until we’ve got Hillenbrand locked down. He’s the key to all this, and the only one who knows where the missing drone is according to Vane.” Turning toward the table, Burkhart motioned for Tucker and Cole to move closer.
“You two are going to be dressed as homeless men and you’ll be outliers for the op. I’m sorry I can’t give you more, but you’ll be in the vicinity at least when we bring Hillenbrand down. You’re going to be on opposite ends of the Metro stop.” He pointed to two separate sections of the map.
Tucker understood why they couldn’t be in the thick of everything, especially since their faces had been splashed all over the news. If they were dressed as homeless men, most people would avoid looking at their faces and give them a wide berth. It was smart as far as keeping them undercover went. He figured Burkhart was just trying to include them, probably out of a sense of loyalty to Max. “We don’t mind being on the fringe. We just want our lives back.”
“Thank you for including us,” Cole added.
Burkhart grunted an acknowledgment and then motioned to the tables where the analysts were set up. They fell in step with him as he talked. “This is only one part of the op. Like I said, we’ve got teams out looking for Hillenbrand right now. We might not even need Vane’s meeting with him, but just in case, I’d like you to listen to the audio.”
Tucker nodded as he and Cole sat in front of two laptops at a table connected to Karen’s. “What did you give Vane in return for his cooperation?”
“He’s not getting the death penalty,” Burkhart said, but he wasn’t looking at them. “Is it ready to go?” he asked Karen.
Capital punishment had been abolished in D.C. and Maryland but Vane and his group of terrorists had committed enough crimes over state lines that they could be charged and convicted in multiple states. They’d also broken numerous federal laws. Not to mention the theft of a drone from a military base, which was a whole other beast. Tucker figured there was more to the negotiations than that, but didn’t push because it wasn’t his problem. As long as Vane went away for his crimes, Hillenbrand was caught, and Tucker and his men could return to their lives, that was what was important.
“Just put the earbuds in and press PLAY,” Karen said to Tucker and Cole before returning to her own computer. Despite what they’d recently shared, she was in complete work mode now.
It was sexy.
Tucker and Cole both put in the earbuds and were silent, focused as they listened to the conversation between Vane and Hillenbrand.
Hearing the voice of the man—a stranger—who’d had a part in trying to destroy his life made Tucker’s blood boil. Corrupt people like that made him sick. People who thought rules of the world didn’t apply to them and tried to prey on anyone they could.
“You want to tell me why I was just attacked in my own home?” Vane snarled, his rage definitely real. That was good. It would sell it to Hillenbrand.
“By who?” Hillenbrand’s voice was cautious.
“By someone you were supposed to have taken care of.” A pause. “Pankov.”
Hillenbrand sucked in a breath. “Don’t say—”
“Yeah, yeah. What the fuck ever! My nose is broken and my hand is fucked up because of your incompetence. I’ve laid a lot of groundwork for our op. This shouldn’t have happened. He never should have known about me.”
“Where is he now?”
“Cooling in my garage.”
“Did he say how he found out about you?”
“No. Our conversation wasn’t long, but he mentioned a woman he’d taken. After that, things turned ugly.”
“Was the woman with him?”
“He was alone.”
A long pause followed, but Tucker could hear breathing, so he knew the two men were still connected. Finally Hillenbrand spoke. “I sent someone after the woman I think he took. My guy hasn’t reported in. It’s well past check-in time too.”
“She wasn’t with him. And we need to meet, but first I have to clean out my
garage.”
“Meet?”
“I retrieved burner phones and other identifiers off him. I can’t risk running anything at work. Maybe your guy can.” It was a very plausible reason even if it was a lie.
Another pause. “Fine.” He rattled off a busy Metro stop.
Vane agreed, which was smart on his part. Burkhart had probably told him to agree to wherever Hillenbrand wanted to meet. It would make him seem less suspicious. And the place was public, which could be good and bad. It was always bad when innocent civilians could get caught in the cross fire.
Tucker had his gloved hands shoved into the pockets of the long, threadbare coat the NSA had given him as part of his cover. Underneath the coat he had on military-style fatigues, but as part of his cover, he had to appear down on his luck, if not completely homeless. At least the coat didn’t smell like urine—which was more than he could say for Cole’s disguise.
Stains covered the coat, though, and he smelled a bit like garbage, pungent and ripe, but he’d sadly smelled worse. In the Corps he’d been stuck behind enemy lines more than once and had forgotten about showering or bathing in those conditions.
His aviator hat with wool lining was dingy but kept his ears and half his face covered. He smelled bad enough that most people were purposely ignoring him and definitely not looking at his face, but the extra cover was perfect in case any agencies were scanning CCTVs for his face. Burkhart might have let the heads of various agencies know they were cleared, but the locals certainly didn’t know it. It was a risk he was willing to take to be part of this op even if he and Cole were basically just lookouts. If they spotted Hillenbrand entering the subway, they’d let the team know.
Keeping his head angled down, he scanned the people coming and going. Everyone was rushing, huddled into their coats, and trying to stay warm. Some were looking at their cell phones as they headed down the stairs into the subway entrance, not paying attention to their surroundings at all.
Hillenbrand was thirty minutes late for the meet. And each minute that passed increased the likelihood that either he wasn’t showing up or he’d sent someone else who’d spotted one of the NSA agents. Tucker didn’t think the latter was likely.
The team of agents all had their earpieces perfectly hidden. According to Burkhart, everyone in the group had undercover training, so they were all used to blending in to their surroundings.
When two uniformed cops came into view around a corner, talking and drinking to-go cups of coffee, Tucker held up his hands to his mouth, pretending to cough. The last thing he needed to do was get stopped for loitering. “Two cops at my two o’clock. Heading into the station. I’ll use my pass, enter, then loop back out in a couple minutes.”
“Affirmative,” Burkhart said. “Still no visual on the tango.” His voice was tight, but if he was frustrated, he was keeping it in check.
Tucker moved casually, keeping his movements steady as he fell in stride with other commuters making their way down the stairs.
“You’re clear,” Karen said less than a minute later. “They’ve continued on. No other visual of local authorities in the direct vicinity.”
“Affirmative, moving back to street view.” He casually scanned the platform and waiting passengers as he turned to leave.
Vane was standing near one of the back walls with two agents flanking him. But Tucker wouldn’t have known they were agents. One looked like a man in a business suit, talking rapid-fire into his cell phone, and the other was a woman wearing running gear much like the kind Karen had on. She had on earmuffs and hadn’t looked at Vane once.
On his way up Tucker spotted a few of the other agents but only recognized them because he’d seen them in pre-op mode.
He remained in his undercover role as he shuffled up the stairs, not moving too quickly. He was tense, though, wanting this thing done. Unfortunately he knew that it didn’t matter what the hell he wanted.
“He’s not coming,” Wesley murmured to the team of analysts in the command center.
Karen nodded in silent agreement but didn’t move her gaze from her oversize screen. Almost an hour had passed now since the set meeting time between Vane and Hillenbrand. She and the other five analysts in the van were monitoring the surrounding area and keeping tabs on the agents on the ground.
For the last half hour it had been mostly silent other than the scheduled check-ins. Even though she and the others in the van had eyes on them via security cameras, everyone still audibly confirmed their position at intervals.
When she saw another uniformed police officer heading Tucker’s way, she said, “Victor, a local headed your way.”
The agents all had call signs for this op. Normally he’d be a T or P call sign, but they had others on the team who’d already been assigned those letters.
“Moving down the stairs now.” His response was crisp.
She couldn’t wait for this whole thing to be over. Normally when she was on an op, her head was completely in the game. For the first time ever she was truly worried about one of the agents. It was hard not to be concerned about Tucker even if she knew how trained and lethal he was. The truth was he was really just a glorified lookout, but he hadn’t been publicly cleared, so her mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. She had this fear that a local cop might recognize him or Cole and . . . anything could happen. But she shook all those useless thoughts away.
“Everyone pack it in,” Wesley said suddenly. “We’re getting out of here.” Without waiting for a response, he exited the back of the van.
Karen couldn’t know for sure, but she guessed he was headed down to the subway to get Vane himself. Wesley was going to grill the man now, find out if he’d set up their team and wasted a lot of valuable resources on this meet that never happened.
“What the hell is that?” Selene muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Karen was still watching the multiple feeds on her own screen but glanced over at Selene.
The tall blonde’s jaw was clenched tight as she stared at one of her own feeds. “Karen, pull up sector two, section four. There’s a guy crouched behind a tree, but I can’t zoom in enough to see what he’s doing,” she murmured.
That was where Cole was waiting, on the opposite side of the station from Tucker. Karen’s fingers flew across the keyboard as she pulled up the feed Selene had indicated.
“Oh my God,” Selene said just as the feed flashed on Karen’s screen.
Karen’s stomach dropped. A man had stepped out from behind a tree with a small RPG, a shoulder-launch missile with deadly capabilities. “Evacuate now!” she shouted at the same time Selene said something along similar lines into her own comm. “All teams move out now. There’s a man with an RPG headed for the south entrance. Charlie, he’s out of your line of sight,” she snapped out to Cole, using his call name. “Move west about twenty yards and take him out.”
She saw Cole and the others on various screens moving into action even as raw fear detonated inside her. The team was moving out, with two of the agents grabbing Vane and running for the exit. She could hear them over the comm shouting at people to run. Where the hell was Tucker? She couldn’t see him on the screen.
Cole cleared the pillars that had been blocking his line of sight, his weapon raised.
It was too late.
Karen jumped to her feet out of instinct as he took aim at the man. The rocket fired, a whoosh of smoke emitting from it—
All their screens went to static as a rumble shook the ground. Their van was across the street, so without the visual she couldn’t see a thing.
“Tucker!” she shouted, not caring about using his call sign.
No one responded, not even Wesley.
“All the comms are down,” Selene said, her expression tight but her voice calm. “You armed?”
Karen nodded even as ice flooded her veins. The entire crew of analysts were always armed for on-the-ground ops like this.
“Come on,” Selene snapped to Karen, th
en barked out orders to the rest of the team in the van.
Under normal circumstances Karen would be the one giving orders to the team, would know what to do. But right now all she knew was that she needed to get to Tucker.
Chapter 20
Oscar-Mike: from the phonetic alphabet meaning “on the move.” Often used by Marines.
There was a ringing in Tucker’s ears as he looked at the bits of sky visible through the busted concrete above him. Blocks had fallen everywhere, covering most of the stairs leading down to the subway.
His elbows were sore from when he’d fallen back on the stairs, but he was physically fine. Tucker knew how damn lucky he was that he’d been on the stairs when the strike happened. It was a miracle he hadn’t been hit by any falling debris. The reality would sink in later, he knew. He just hoped his luck held out now.
Withdrawing his weapon, he spoke quietly. “Command center?” Dead silence. “Command?” he shouted, not able to stop himself. A sharp punch of fear for Karen slid through his veins. Calling on all his training, he shelved what-if thoughts. Without knowing the extent of the damage, he had to do his damn job and focus. He couldn’t completely shelve thoughts of Karen, though. She was right there at the forefront of his brain.
The sound of groaning down below kicked him into gear. Sirens wailed in the distance, but he ignored all distractions as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs. Karen had said there’d been a man with an RPG near Cole’s location, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more explosives down below. He had to be careful.
To his right he could see legs visible from underneath a pile of rubble. From the dress pants, a man. He’d seen loss of life on so many different scales when he’d been in war zones or during his undercover stints, which were sometimes like war zones. Men, women . . . children. Killing innocent civilians for whatever stupid cause was always so fucking pointless. Anger tightened his gut, but he moved it out of his mind and started to scale a pile of concrete. More blue sky filtered through from the huge chunk of ceiling that had been ripped away.
