Mountain of Evil_Trident Security Omega Team_Prequel

by Samantha A. Cole

  Lindsey gave Foster a little hip check. “Ready for your first real fast-roping, stud?”

  The man had practiced with Devon Sawyer and Marco DeAngelis of the Alpha Team many times doing some rope ascents and descents from the company’s training building, some cliffs, and Trident’s own helicopter. It wasn’t as if the Secret Service did a lot of rock climbing or jumped out of perfectly good choppers, and this would be his first rapid deployment as if it were a real mission. The highest fast-roping he’d done so far had been from approximately seventy-five feet—this one would be about fifty feet higher. At thirty-four feet, a person loses their depth perception. If they are going to have issues with heights or vertigo, that’s where they’d have it. Foster had passed all that with flying colors.

  “As long as Batman goes first and breaks my fall.”

  The retired SEAL grinned. “I’ll make sure my foot is in the air so it goes up your ass.”

  “Unless he goes possum,” Tristan joked. A “possum rappeller” is when a person inadvertently gets turned upside down from not holding their brake hand, or the hand lowest on the rope, tight enough. It’s then up to the rappel master, in this case, Ian, to pull on the rope in such a way to get them upright again. “Then just make sure Shades opens his mouth wide enough so you don’t kick out his teeth.”

  As Babs and the other pilot went through the checklist to make sure the bird was safe to fly, the team and Ian loaded the gear into the passenger area. Once they were done and had a few more minutes before takeoff, Ian pulled a camera out of the side pocket of his tan, cargo pants. “Angie wants a picture of the team so she can sketch it for the office.”

  Tristan had been impressed with the woman’s talent. There was a large, framed sketch of the Alpha Team now hanging in the reception area, and he assumed this one would be put next to it. Standing on the left side of the helicopter, the team closed ranks, and Tristan put an arm around Foster’s shoulders and the other over Mancini’s.

  “Don’t fucking smile.”

  Of course, the boss’s growled order had everyone laughing, as he probably intended. He took several shots before putting the camera away again as the team pulled on their safety belts, harnesses, and tethers needed for the fast-roping.

  Once she was done with the checklist, Babs glanced over her shoulder at the team. “Load up, boys and girls. It’s time to get this show in the clouds. I hope everyone had a light breakfast.”

  Tristan chuckled as he took a seat, secured a belt over his hips, and put on his headphones. The female pilot was known for taking them on roller coaster rides hundreds of feet in the air. Most of the team had tossed their cookies in a barf bag during a training flight at one time or another. As everyone strapped in, the rotors of the helicopter began to spin faster and faster. Like she was performing a levitation act, Babs pulled back on the control stick and lifted them into the air with nary a hiccup.

  Despite her warning, Babs gave them a smooth flight to their drop off point about fifteen minutes away by air. The team pulled on their heat-resistant gloves, which would protect their hands during the fast descent on the rope. Their flight helmets with visors, would protect their heads and eyes. During the air time, the team attached the rappel ropes to the steel, donut rings bolted to the floor of the chopper and the opposite ends to their deployment bags which held everything they were taking with them.

  As Babs hovered 125 feet above a small clearing below the rock face of Dallas Peak, west of Ouray, everyone in the back stood and removed their headphones. Widening his stance for balance, Ian turned to McCabe and double-checked the man’s harness and anchor point connection—he would be the first one out the door. Moments afterward he pushed off and dropped, Romeo would be the first one descending on the second rope.

  From here on out, they’d be working with hand signals due to the volume of the rotors. Once confirming McCabe was ready, Ian gestured for him to throw his and two other deployment bags attached to the same rope out the door, far enough out to avoid them going between the chopper and its skid. After his cleared and dropped, Batman threw a second rope/bag combo out the door. There were two reasons for sending the bags down first—one less thing the team had to deal with during the drop, and the weight helped stabilize the rope. Ian stuck his head out the door and looked down, making sure the bags were touching the ground and the rope was free of knots.

  With the next hand signal, McCabe sat on the floor, swung his legs out of the bird, and set the balls of his feet on the skid. Holding the rope, he pivoted 180 degrees and faced Ian and the rest of the team. His feet were shoulder-width apart, his knees locked, the rope was between his legs, and his body was bent at the waist toward the helicopter. His upper, guide hand had a light grip on the rope, while his brake hand was tighter around the rope at the small of his back.

  There were two ways to fast-rope down and it depended on how far off the ground they were. At a much lower altitude, they could forego the harness and just use their hands and feet as their guides and brakes. However, from this height, they’d use a seat harness and their hands only—using their boot-covered feet could damage the rope at the speed they’d be dropping at.

  When Ian gave the “go” signal, McCabe flexed his knees and pushed over the skid, allowing the rope to pass through his hands. The eight-feet-per-second descent was smooth with no jerky stops. About halfway down, he started the brake process and felt the weight of Abbott starting her descent on the rope high above him. When his feet hit the ground, about a mile above the tree line elevation, he cleared his rappel ring from the rope, as Romeo landed a few feet away, then stepped out of the way of his teammates. Their female sniper was the next one with boots on the ground. One by one, alternating on the two lines, they landed. When they were all clear and unhooked, Ian dropped his end of the ropes down to them. Tilting his head back, McCabe gave their boss a thumbs up then watched as the helicopter gained altitude and headed back to the airport. From the time he’d stepped out onto the skid until all boots were on the ground, less than ninety seconds had passed.

  As Mancini, Morrison, and Reese wound the ropes up, the others untied the deployment bags. Once everyone had loaded the gear on their backs, McCabe checked his compass, then led his team to the east. They had plenty of miles on the rough terrain to cover over the next several hours before they could take a break for lunch. After that, it would be a repeat of the morning.

  Since joining Trident, McCabe had done quite a few missions in several parts of the world and in different climates, but it had been a while since he’d been up in the mountains. It didn’t take long for him, and the others, to note the lower oxygen levels in the higher altitudes, and he adjusted his pace so they wouldn’t be gasping for air anytime soon. It was going to be a long two days at any rate. Thank God I live for this shit.

  *****

  Holding the door open, Ian allowed Babs and CC, who’d joined them upon their return, to enter the little diner before he followed them in. He saw Angie waving them over to where she sat at a table for four at the back of the establishment. He was glad to see the color had returned to her face—she’d been so pale that morning. When they’d landed the helicopter at the airport, he’d called to see how she was doing and had gotten the response he’d been hoping for—she was hungry and would meet them for a late breakfast. Her day had started in the bathroom with some dry heaves followed by some very bland crackers, so the fact she had her appetite back made him feel better. He hoped her morning sickness would soon be a thing of the past. As her husband and Dom, he hated to see her ill or miserable for any reason—especially since getting her pregnant had caused it.

  Instead of joining the couple, Babs and CC veered off and took seats at the counter, telling Ian to enjoy a quiet meal with his wife. While it may have seemed like a kind gesture, the boss knew it was because they were both coffee addicts who didn’t want Angie getting sick to her stomach again. And God forbid they gave up their caffeine fixes for an hour or so.

  A
ngie didn’t miss their actions either. “They don’t want me throwing up all over the place, huh?” she asked as Ian sat across from her, with his back against the far wall of the diner, as was his custom. Like the rest of the Trident operatives, he hated having his back to the rest of a room, needing to constantly assess his surroundings no matter how mundane and harmless they might seem.

  Not answering the rhetorical question, Ian smiled. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?”

  “No. But you have told me that my breasts look even bigger.”

  He chuckled. “Well, they do. It’s a shame they’re too sensitive for clamps. I’ll have to come up with something else to torture you with until you beg me to fuck you silly.” Her eyes widened as she glanced around to see if anyone had overheard him, which he knew no one had. He gently took her hand, and her gaze returned to him and softened. “Since I’ve been remiss, let me state that you are beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, exquisite …” The corners of her mouth climbed upward, revealing two small dimples. “… and downright adorable, and I’m very close to saying to hell with breakfast so I can take you back to bed.”

  Her grin turned seductive and his dick twitched. “Mmm. While any other time I might be okay with that, Little Bit will not be happy, I can assure you. He or she is hungry, which makes mommy hungry, too.”

  “How about we feed Little Bit first, then go back to our room so Master Daddy can have his feast.”

  A blush stole across her face, but before she could give him a verbal answer, their gray-haired waitress ambled over. As Angie ordered enough food for sextuplets, Ian perused the menu quickly, before adding his choice to the list the older woman was jotting down.

  Handing the menus back to the waitress, he noticed the local Sheriff was standing by the counter next to Babs and CC, talking with the diner’s owner. Ian had met the lawman on several occasions when SEAL Team Four, and then the Trident Alpha Team, had come to the area to do the same training run Omega was doing at the moment. But Sheriff Wayne Collins didn’t appear to be his normally spit-shined self today. He was a retired Marine, and Ian had never seen him so disheveled.

  Worried something was wrong, Ian was about to stand when, not surprisingly, Babs turned and gestured for him to join them after evidently hearing something which caused her concern.

  “I’ll be right back, Angel.”

  Ian had called and left a courtesy message this morning with the Sheriff’s dispatcher as a reminder that he and his team were in town for a training run. It was always a good idea to let the local law know when they had trained men and women with military-grade weapons running around the area. All Ian had been told was that the man hadn’t been available to speak to him at the time, but the message would be passed on.

  Striding over, he got a better look at the fifty-year-old man. His eyes were bloodshot, and Ian’s uneasiness increased. Collins sensed a newcomer approaching, and when he turned, his eyes flashed with recognition.

  Ian held out his hand. “Sheriff, if you don’t mind me saying so, you look like shit. What’s up?”

  After shaking his hand, Collins went back to putting his uniform hat in a death grip. “Hey, Sawyer. Forgot your team was coming up this week, but now that you’re here, I could use your help. Did they get dropped in the usual spot?” When Ian nodded, the man continued. “My niece, Mallory, went hiking yesterday near Lower Blue Lake, and didn’t come home. Her father’s a buddy of mine from the Corps, who ended up falling in love with my sister, and he’s made sure Mallory knows how to handle herself out there. Her car’s still parked at the lookout she usually goes to. She’s an amateur photographer and sells her photos on some of those online stock sites. Every week, she goes out once or twice, and always takes a backpack with food, water, satellite phone, and bear spray, in case she runs into trouble.”

  “Any sign of her?”

  “No. Not her backpack, camera, or anything else. It’s like she disappeared off the side of the mountain. We’ve got people searching, but the initial K9s I brought in last night, before it got too dark, lost her scent about two miles down the trail she took. I’m just heading back to the search area after crashing for a few hours. We’ve also got a storm watch for tomorrow. There’s a possibility a cold weather front, south of here, might take a left turn. If that happens, we’re looking at about a foot of snow in some areas.” And a drastic reduction in the chances of finding the girl alive.

  “I can go back to the airport and see if there’s a bird I can take up to help search,” Babs volunteered.

  “I’ll go with you as an extra set of eyes,” CC added.

  After getting the approval from Collins, Ian nodded at his employees. “Do it.”

  The sheriff rattled off a description of the young woman, and what they thought she’d been wearing, to Babs as CC got their breakfasts to go. Ian pivoted to face Angie and held up two fingers before pulling out his cell. He dialed the satellite phone Knight was carrying and waited for it to be answered.

  It took four rings. “Miss us already, Boss-man.”

  “You wish. Listen, we’ve got a hiker missing since yesterday afternoon.” He gave them her description. “Keep an eye out for her; we’ve got no idea which way she was headed or how far she got. I doubt she’s anywhere near you at the moment, but you may cross paths as you work your way back here. When I get search coordinates and a better idea of what’s going on, I’ll call you back.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Disconnecting the call, Ian told the sheriff he’d be right back, then headed toward Angie to tell her their plans had changed so he could go help with the search. So much for his afternoon feast.

  CHAPTER 4

  The morning sun peeking through the trees hit Mallory directly in the face, waking her. She blinked several times and took in her surroundings. The cold from the air and ground penetrated her jeans and lightweight sweater and jacket, causing her to shiver. A small campfire that had given her some warmth had died out at some point over the past two or three hours. Her arms and legs were stiff as hell, and she tried to stretch the kinks out of them.

  Her hands were still restrained in front of her, and she was lying right where she’d been since late last night—in some sort of mountain camp, God knew where. It was at least a two hour hike at a decent clip from where she’d been taking photos yesterday. In addition to the two men who’d kidnapped her, two others had walked into the camp long after the sun had gone down. From what she could tell, they were related—three brothers, and the older man was their father. He’d been none too pleased with the two who’d brought her into the camp, and there’d been a lot of yelling and a few unanswered punches thrown by the patriarch of the family.

  When everything had died back down, she’d hoped they’d release her, but instead they’d taken turns standing guard so she couldn’t escape. A rope had been tied around her waist with the other end wrapped around a tree. Mallory had no idea what was in store for her, but she’d continue to do what she’d done ever since the men had grabbed her. She’d bide her time and wait for an opportunity to escape, then run like hell. The problem was she’d been so scared as they’d marched her through the woods for several miles, far from the main trails, that she was having trouble pinpointing where they were. All she knew was they’d headed east and then southeast based on where the sun had set.

  If it wasn’t four to one, she’d have a much better chance of escaping. Running through the woods wouldn’t be a problem for her with her cross country track team history. Her father and uncle had taught her many things over the years about what to do if attacked or kidnapped, such as how to escape from a car’s trunk, pick a set of handcuffs while wearing them, or snap a zip tie restraining her wrists. Who knew that last one would finally be put to the test? She just had to wait for the right moment.

  Out here in the wilderness, though, she had other things to worry about if she did manage to escape. Bears, mountain lions, lack of food, water, and warm clothing, and other hazards to
pped the list.

  A thumping noise began to pulsate through the trees and it took her a moment to realize it was an approaching helicopter. Could it be a search team out looking for her? Her family had to know she was missing and had undoubtedly contacted Uncle Wayne at the Sheriff’s Department.

  As the helicopter’s rotors cutting through the air got louder and louder, Mallory’s head whipped around. The trees were too tall and dense in this area, and there was no way she’d be spotted unless there was a clearing she could run to. As if knowing her intent, the burly man with the facial scar who’d first confronted her—his father had called him Jessup, as well as a fucking asshole, which she agreed with—moved closer and leered at her. “Don’t get any ideas, missy. There’s no way they’ll be able to see you from up there.”

  Her heart sank as she realized he was right and the helicopter move further west at a decent clip.

  “Why won’t you let me go?” It was a question she’d asked numerous times over the past fifteen hours or so, with no answer. For some reason, the four men looked familiar but she didn’t know why, and honestly, at the moment, she didn’t care. They obviously knew how to survive out here.

  “Because you seen us,” responded the brother who had been in the camp with his father when she’d arrived. He was eating what looked like beef jerky out of a pouch, and Mallory’s stomach growled in hunger. This one seemed much younger than the other two, and not as threatening. In fact, he appeared almost shy. Maybe she could convince him to let her go if the others weren’t around.

  “Shut up, Billy Ray,” the father growled as he stepped back into the camp. The way he was adjusting his pants, Mallory figured he’d just peed. And that made her own need to go register in her mind. “Darrell, give me her bag. Let’s see what the little girlie has in there.”

  The third brother passed her backpack to his father who opened it and shuffled through it. She hoped he would give her one of the bottles of water and a granola bar, but first things first. “I have to pee.” The older man glared at her as she struggled to stand. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but if I don’t get two seconds of privacy, I’m going to pee my pants. As unpleasant as that sounds, it’s the truth.”