HERO Force Boxset Books 1-8

by Amy Gamet

  One of the reporters called out, “In the cafeteria.”

  “Quick, run and grab it,” said Matteo.

  “Mr. Cruz, were you aware your father-in-law had a heart condition?”

  Matteo’s head snapped up. “You should go. Get out of here. We need to make room for the medics.”

  The reporters didn’t budge.

  Matteo stood and pushed at cameras and microphones. “Get out of here, now. His life depends on it, you fools. Back up, dammit.” He was pushing at the reporters now, aware of the lights in his face and the footage that was recording.

  None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that Vasile survived. Grace had already lost her child. He couldn’t stand for her to lose anyone else.

  He had to get out there himself, had to try to find Nico.

  He pushed the last reporter out the door and closed it tightly behind him. His eyes found General Talia’s. “I need access to weapons. Lots of them. And transportation. HERO Force is landing in fifteen minutes and I’m going to find my son.”

  34

  Matteo stood back as the chopper landed on the helipad. Hawk was only off by a few feet. Not bad for somebody with as few flight hours as he had.

  Bending at the waist, he jogged to the door, opening it for his teammates. It felt like more time had passed than a few weeks, like these men were from a different lifetime, and it struck him that he felt torn between his life here at the mansion and his former identity as a member of this elite team.

  He was the husband of President Vasile’s daughter, father of Nico, lover of Grace. But this was who he was, too.

  Cowboy hopped down to the ground, nodding in acknowledgment over the roar of the slowing rotors. Next came Logan and a lanky man Matteo didn’t recognize, followed by Hawk.

  When the noise died down, Cowboy said, “Red, this is Austin. The latest addition to the team.”

  Matteo eyed the other man and shook his hand. “When did you start?”

  “Twenty minutes before we took off.”

  “Welcome aboard,” said Matteo. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  The men made their way across the roof to the entrance of the mansion stairwell. Matteo briefed them as he walked, his voice echoing off the cinderblock. “The baby was taken from his room this morning. We’re operating under the assumption that it’s the same people who left a threatening note in his crib and the president’s study before I arrived, a group called Ten Komanda.”

  “Have they made any demands?” asked Hawk.

  “They asked Vasile to resign, which he has done. There’s been no further contact. We have search dogs on the way. Do you have anything for me?”

  Logan piped up. “I did have some luck with the household employee list you gave me. Trudy Winslow, a maid, has been living with Vladimir Petrov, one of the Ten Komanda members, for about six months now.

  Matteo stopped short. “That’s the father of Grace’s baby and her personal maid, who has access to Nico on a daily basis. She didn’t come in today. Do you have an address?”

  “Twenty-seven eighteen Wilshire Boulevard, apartment three.”

  “Then we start with Trudy.”

  The men piled into Vasile’s private car, giving the address to the driver.

  “Drive like your life depends on it,” said Matteo.

  They made the trip across town in record time, but it was still too late for poor Trudy. Cowboy broke down the door of the apartment and found her dead and wide-eyed, staring in the ceiling from a pool of her own blood.

  Matteo cursed under his breath. “Quickly. Search the apartment.”

  The men spread out and started to move. “What are we looking for?” asked Cowboy.

  “I don’t know. Locations. Events. Anything that might have to do with the baby or their plan to sully Vasile’s name.”

  “Baseball tickets,” said Cowboy.

  “What?” asked Matteo, coming up short.

  Cowboy fanned out a dozen ticket stubs. “I’ve got ten bucks says these are the tickets they used to get into the stadium and plant the bomb.”

  Suddenly, Matteo knew what they were looking for. “The subway. Look for anything that happens to do with the subway. I think they’re planning their last and final terrorist attack on the subway.”

  Matteo went through drawers, throwing things out of his way as he searched. Inch by inch they frantically searched the tiny apartment for anything that could lead them to Nico.

  “South Street Station,” called Austin from the bedroom. “Over here! I found a map of South Street Station.”

  “South Street Station?” asked Logan. “Oh, no. Holy fuck. What’s today’s date?”

  Matteo looked at his watch. “The sixteenth.”

  Logan put his hands on his head. “The vigil is tonight. The vigil for the people who died in the pedestrian bridge bombing.”

  “What’s the connection?” asked Cowboy.

  “I watched hours and hours of the satellite feed from the bridge area. It starts at South Street Station.”

  “Shit!” yelled Matteo. “They’re going to do it again, in the same place with the people at the vigil.”

  “And the subway. It’s all right there, Red,” said Logan.

  “What time does the vigil start?”

  “Nine o’clock.”

  Matteo looked back at his watch. “It’s eight twenty-five. Move! Let’s go now.”

  35

  Grace walked into her father's bedroom. She hadn't been in here since the night her mother died, something which would have made her emotional to begin with. The fact that her father was now lying on the bed right where her mother had passed away, and that he looked nearly dead himself, was her undoing. Tears spilled from her eyes onto her cheeks and she wiped them away with the backs of her hands.

  When did he get so old? In her mind, he was as formidable now as he had been her whole life, but reality struck her in stark contrast. The old man on the bed was not formidable in any way.

  He was frail.

  He was sick.

  He was dying.

  She made her way to the edge of the bed. He couldn’t die yet. They had too much unsettled between them, too much to fix in the time they had left, and the possibility that her relationship with her father would never be mended struck Grace in the face.

  I should have tried harder to get along with him. He just wanted me to do a good job, do the right thing, be a good person. She wiped at her runny nose. Her father opened his eyes. They were gray and watery and for a minute he didn't seem to realize she was there.

  "Hi, Daddy." Her voice cracked and she wished she could stifle these emotions, hide from him just how upset she really was, but that thought only had her crying harder.

  "Gracie." He reached for her hand, his grip surprisingly strong.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. It was the question that had been haunting her since she’d spoken with her father's physician. Her father knew he was ill. He'd known for some time.

  "It wasn't important."

  "It was important to me. There's so much I need to say to you, and now we don't have much time."

  "I'm sorry, honey. For what I said about Nico."

  Your bastard child.

  His eyes drifted closed. "He's beautiful, my grandson."

  Those simple words were the only balm her soul needed, and they washed over her like the highest praise. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you more, and that I haven't been so nice to you since Mom passed away."

  "I understood. She was your favorite."

  Now Grace was the one hanging on tightly. "No, Daddy. You were. I loved Mom so much, but she was easy to love. I always wanted to be like you."

  She watched as tears spilled from his eyes and rolled back into the pillow. She'd never seen him cry, not even when her mother died.

  "I know what you're thinking," he said. "I cried for her every night. Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't love her."

&
nbsp; "I know you did." Grace looked at their joined hands and it struck her how time had flown by, taking hers from that of a little girl to a grown woman, and her father’s from a young man to an old one. Each of them had a limited amount of time on this earth to do with what they wanted. Every moment counted.

  She was grateful her parents had loved each other. Had each other to share this life with.

  Just like I love Matteo.

  She covered her mouth with her hand. Hadn’t she known it for quite some time now? Since the first night she’d let him sleep in her bed on the other side of the baby?

  They made a little family, and for too long, she’d told herself it was the fantasy she was falling in love with, not the man. But it wasn't true, she could see that now. It was the other way around. She'd been falling in love with the man and the fantasy they’d created. That perfect little family was real if she would let it be.

  She just needed her son back and she would have everything she’d ever wanted.

  "I need you to do something for me," said her father. "For all of us."

  “All of us?” There had only been the two of them for so long.

  "I want you to run for the presidency in my place.”

  She shook her head frantically. "You're going to be okay. You're going to pull through this."

  "Even if that were true, I collapsed on television in front of the nation. I can hide this no longer. It was never my intention to lie. I just had to make sure the bad guy didn't win. I did what I did to protect this country."

  "I know you did."

  "But now I can't do it any longer. It's up to you." He looked at her pointedly.

  "I'm not a politician. I don't have the experience—"

  "The people love you, perhaps even more than me. You are well versed in the topics required of the presidency, pruned for this since you were a little girl discussing politics over breakfast. You have watched me do this job, helped me do this job, and you are ready to do it yourself now."

  He believed in her.

  Even more so than him asking to her to take over the run for the presidency, the fact that he believed in her—thought she was capable—was what filled her with awe. How had she ever believed this man didn't love her?

  She could do it. She knew she could. When it came to politics, she and her father were of the same mind. She knew just what he wanted for the country, because she wanted it, too. And she realized he was right.

  She could do this.

  "I'll need your help to guide me," she said. "I don't want you giving up the fight, thinking I'll take care of it, do you understand?"

  "It isn’t up to me, Gracie."

  "Of course it is. Just tell God that Nico needs his grandfather." She wiped at her tears. “And I need you, too.”

  Her father squeezed her hand.

  "God willing, Nico will come back to you. But you have a larger family than you realize of people who depend on you. Of those to whom much is given, much is expected, and you have been given a great deal."

  She nodded. "I know."

  "You've already made great sacrifices. There will be more."

  "I know."

  "You did a good thing marrying the HERO man. Do you love him?"

  "How did you know?"

  "I knew he was meant for you when he told me he would not be my spy, that he was your husband first. From then on, it's just been a matter of time.” He patted her hand. “Now you should let your father rest and go tell your husband you wish to marry him for real."

  "What if he doesn't feel the same way?"

  "Of course he does. And tell him I'd like to see the ceremony, so he better hurry it up."

  “I need Nico here with me first.”

  “Then go out there and find your boy.”

  36

  Logan tapped his cell phone. “GPS says we’re eighteen minutes away from the station.”

  Cowboy banged on the glass that separated them from Vasile’s driver. “Go fucking faster.” The car sped up considerably.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Cowboy.

  Matteo held up his hand, his cell phone to his ear. “Talia, it’s Matteo. Ten Komanda is going to blow up South Street Station during the vigil tonight. I’m on my way there with HERO Force. I need you to get word to the police that we’ll be there with weapons, so they don’t think we’re the terrorists. And I can’t get Grace on the phone. Let her know what’s going on and I’ll call when I can.” He hung up the phone and met Cowboy’s stare. “Voice mail.”

  “You love this woman?”

  He saw Logan and Hawk staring from his peripheral vision. “Yeah.”

  “Really love her?” asked Hawk.

  Matteo turned to face him. “I’m going to marry her.”

  “I think you already did,” said Cowboy.

  “For real, this time.”

  “This map doesn’t make any sense,” said Austin. “According to this, three subway lines converge at South Street Station, but only one set of tracks is shown.”

  “Maybe it’s an old map. I looked it up online and they made some changes to it fifteen or sixteen years ago.” said Logan. “Let me see.”

  “All right, kids,” said Hawk. “We’ve got your standard issue AK-47s, we’ve got some spiffy new nine mils, we’ve got some CS gas and masks if we need ’em and some military-issue pepper spray coming at you.” He started passing weapons to the men.

  “Let me see if I’ve got this right,” said Matteo. “They’re going to have explosives and we’ve got pepper spray?”

  “And righteousness,” said Hawk. “Don’t forget righteousness.”

  Matteo shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it. The crowd is their greatest weapon—the threat of casualties. We need a way to get the crowd to disperse so their explosives can’t hurt anyone. How are guns going to help us do that?”

  Hawk snapped his fingers. “Great minds think alike.” He reached into a big canvas duffel bag and withdrew a bullhorn. “I figure I tell them what’s about to go down, and they won’t be able to run away fast enough.”

  “If that doesn’t work, we can just start shooting. That should make ’em run,” said Austin.

  “Some will run, some will get down on the ground. Not what we’re going for,” said Cowboy.

  Matteo’s mind was whirling. “Tell me they won’t bring Nico here. Tell me they’re two separate plans that have nothing to do with each other.”

  The men just looked at him.

  “Fuck.” Matteo shook his head. “The crowd isn’t their biggest weapon. Grace’s baby is.”

  Logan turned the map upside down. “Austin’s right. This map is fucked up.”

  The car pulled into the parking lot of the subway station, which was already full. Hundreds of people filled the adjacent park.

  “The station itself is directly underneath that park,” said Logan. “With entrances to the subway on either corner. The vigil is about to start in the grand gazebo, right smack in the middle of the park, and dead center over ground zero. As for the tracks, I just don’t know.”

  “Objective number one is to clear that park of people,” said Matteo. “Then we find the boy.”

  “Hopefully Talia got your message in time to let the local beat know we’re the good guys,” said Hawk.

  “One way to find out.” Matteo hopped out of the car and headed for a mounted policeman, then jogged back. “We’re good. They’ve been told.”

  The men got out of the vehicle, immediately drawing attention with their camouflage uniforms and large black guns. Hawk pulled out the bullhorn. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen. We have a public safety situation at hand and we need clear the park immediately. The candlelight vigil will need to be rescheduled.”

  Everyone was looking at Hawk, but no one moved to leave. Hawk looked to Cowboy, who shrugged, then put the bullhorn back to his mouth. “Terrorists are going to blow up the subway station! Get out of here, now!”

  The people ran.

&nb
sp; “That definitely worked better,” said Cowboy.

  Matteo led the way. “Let’s get down to the station.” He checked his watch. We have less than eight minutes until the vigil was supposed to start.” They split up, one man going down each set of stairs so they covered all the entrances. Foul, hot air blew up from the station as Matteo made his way down.

  He could hear Hawk on his bullhorn spreading panic and sending tons of people up the stairway past Matteo. By the time he got all the way to the bottom, the only people there were the HERO Force men themselves.

  The station was empty.

  Matteo spun in a circle. All that was down here were some bathrooms, an empty ticket booth and the tracks themselves, the tunnels leading away from the platforms. “Three subway lines. Four tunnels here that branch into six tunnels away from the station,” he said.

  “And only four of us,” said Logan.

  “Where do these tunnels go?” asked Matteo. “What’s most likely?”

  Logan pointed to one set of tracks. “It’s a crapshoot, Red. I can’t tell.”

  “Fuck.” Matteo shook his head. “So, we’ve got an eighty-three percent chance of picking the right line, and a hundred percent chance of having one of us against a handful of them.”

  “That’s right,” said Logan.

  “Are the trains running?” asked Hawk.

  “Who the fuck knows.” Matteo moved to Logan. “Did you bring the map?”

  Logan pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Matteo, who spread it out on the ground. He lined up the drawing of the subway platform with the single line in the map, then stood up and pointed. “I say we go that way. Two go left and two go right.”

  “What if they’re on the other line?” asked Logan.

  “They’re not. This map means something to them. It doesn’t need to mean anything to us. They had it for a reason. We take this track.” He folded up the map and tucked it in his own pocket. “Doc, you’re with me. Hawk, Austin, and Cowboy, you go that way.”

  They started walking down the middle of the tracks in the opposite direction from the other men, flashlights blazing.