The Winning Element (The Specialists)

by Shannon Greenland

  A black van sat idling, waiting. TL led us to it and opened the back door. Beaker and I climbed up and sat down. TL followed, shutting the door behind him, and the van pulled away.

  I stared across the cargo space at Nalani and a woman sitting beside her. They both wore black jumpsuits and black knit caps.

  “Hello, Sissy,” the woman greeted Beaker.

  Beaker looked up and blinked. “Ms. Gabrier?”

  Ms. Gabrier focused on me. “I was Sissy’s chemistry teacher back in her old life. I helped her find her way to the Specialists.”

  “Really?” I smiled. “That’s cool.”

  Ms. Gabrier turned back to Beaker. “I’m here to assist you with defusing the chemicals.”

  “You’re,” Beaker pointed at her, “assisting me?”

  Ms. Gabrier inclined her head. “Yes. I’ve been hearing good things about you.”

  Beaker furrowed her brow. “You have?”

  Amusement played across Ms. Gabrier’s lips. “Yes, I have. I always knew there was something special hidden in there.”

  Beaker stared at her for a few seconds and then glanced down to her lap. Shifting uncomfortably, she cleared her throat.

  I looked over at Beaker. She seemed so . . . amazed and honored, maybe even a little humbled.

  If Wirenut were here, he’d put her in a headlock and knuckle-rub her. I wasn’t a knuckle rubber, so I found a piece of gum in my backpack and handed it to her. She took it and smiled.

  TL opened a laptop and turned it toward all of us. A map of Barracuda Key and the surrounding areas filled the screen.

  He tapped on an island north of Barracuda Key, zooming in on it. “This is Mango Key. It’s connected to Barracuda Key via a bridge.”

  He tapped again, giving us an aerial view of a warehouse. “This is where Eduardo and his men have been all day. A huge delivery was made earlier today. Mike has confirmed it’s chemicals. ”

  “Mike?” I asked.

  “Mike Share.”

  “David’s dad? What is he doing here? I thought he was in the protection program.” I hadn’t seen him since the Ushbanian mission and his rescue. He’d gone into hiding shortly afterward.

  TL nodded over his shoulder. “He’s driving the van.”

  My attention snapped to the solid wall separating us from the driver.

  “He heard about the operation and put in a special request to come. Remember, he was best friends with your father. And aside from that, he has another personal reason for being here. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Personal reason? If I was going to find out soon enough, why couldn’t TL tell me now?

  Ignoring my confused expression, TL continued, “Tonight, at twenty-three hundred, Eduardo will commence auctioning off the smuggled chemicals. Buyers, most of whom are known terrorists, have flown in from all over the world. After all the chemicals are sold, they’ll begin the bomb-making portion of the evening.”

  “Sounds like they’ve put together quite the entertaining night,” Ms. Gabrier commented. “How many people are we talking about?”

  “Mike has been there all day with surveillance. Eduardo and his men are now up to twenty. There’re only thirty-one buyers.”

  “Only thirty-one buyers? That’s fifty-one in all.” I waved my hand around the van. “We can’t take down fifty-one people.”

  “The IPNC hired us to find Eduardo and track his next moves, which we’ve done.” TL checked his watch. “By now there are close to twenty IPNC agents in place, ready to raid the warehouse. I’ve brought in Specialists Team One: Piper, Tina, Adam, and Curtis. David met with them earlier and briefed them. They’ll be assisting with diffusing the chemical bombs.”

  Twenty IPNC agents and Team One? Still not very good odds. But then, one highly skilled agent was like two or three people. TL, for example, could easily take on three or more regular people and win.

  TL looked to Beaker. “How much time will you need?”

  “It depends on how far along they are with the bomb. What chemicals they used. How they mixed or premixed the chemicals. There’re a lot of factors that will tell me what defuse substances to administer.” Beaker shrugged. “Could take me hours.”

  “As soon as IPNC moves in and the warehouse is cleared, you and Ms. Gabrier get to work. Nalani and GiGi will assist, along with Adam and Curtis.” TL indicated a black suitcase next to Ms. Gabrier. “That’s got all the supplies you requested. According to intel, the warehouse has been set up like a chem lab. You’ll have a lot there to work with. Plenty of supplies.”

  He ran his gaze over each of us. “This mission has morphed into a size none of us expected. Beaker, stick close to Ms. Gabrier and GiGi to Nalani. Neither of you girls have the experience to be anywhere by yourself.”

  We nodded, completely agreeing with him. No wonder David had been too busy to text or call me.

  Nalani slid a duffel bag from beneath her seat. She pulled out black clothes and handed them to us. “Put these on before we get there.”

  Beaker and I slipped the loose-fitting jumpsuits over our regular clothes and zipped up. TL did the same. We three put black knit hats over our heads.

  TL handed me the laptop. “Cue into satellite. Let’s take a look inside the warehouse.”

  I keyed in the scrambler code, connected to our satellite, and X-rayed through the warehouse’s roof.

  Sure enough, one half of the warehouse mirrored a chemistry lab with microscopes, tables, safety equipment . . . pretty much exactly what Beaker’s lab looked like back at the ranch.

  In the other half of the building, boxes and crates filled the center of the room. People dressed in expensive suits stood around, sipping drinks. Men in military fatigues and machine guns lined the walls. Women in skimpy outfits hung on the arms of some of the suited men. Eduardo stood off to the side talking to one of the suited men.

  The van pulled to a stop, and the back door immediately opened. A team of gorgeous men stood there all big and muscular, decked out in dark clothes, Kevlar vests, and headsets.

  Simultaneously, they all folded their bulging arms and looked into the van.

  “Well, well,” Ms. Gabrier commented.

  I blinked a few times. Yep, definitely real.

  [14]

  The gorgeous men helped us down from the van out into a dark, slightly chilly Florida night.

  I took a second to survey the new location. Gigantic, grassy sand dunes spotted the landscape, and to my right, the ocean stretched to the horizon. Our van had pulled in between two dunes. Big oak trees bordered the area beyond the sand dunes.

  Men and women dressed in matching black/Kevlar/headset outfits milled around. IPNC agents, for sure. A couple of Jeeps and one Humvee sat off in the distance. A satellite occupied the top of a particularly high dune. I saw Piper, Tina, Curtis, and Adam next to one of the Jeeps. Adam caught my eye and gave me a little wave. I waved back.

  The whole scene seemed alien. All this high techiness out in the middle of a beach. We should have coolers and lounge chairs and bathing suits. And oddly, I wanted to remind everyone that it was illegal to walk on sand dunes.

  “Hey.”

  I turned around. “David!”

  He grinned and grabbed me up in a huge hug.

  My heart jigged around in my chest as I squeezed him back. God, this felt good.

  David let me go and took a step back. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine. I just want to get this mission done already.”

  “I know.” David turned a little. “You remember my dad.”

  Behind David stood Mike Share. He smiled.

  “Of course I remember your dad!” I gave him a hug. “How are you, Mr. Share?”

  “Fine. Doing great, actually.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “And how are you, GiGi?”

  “I’m good.” I pulled away. “TL told me you were driving the van. I couldn’t wait to see you. He said you’re here for a personal reason.” I waved that off. “But I know, it’s none of
my business.”

  He chuckled. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  That’s what TL had said.

  Mr. Share glanced beyond me to Beaker and held out his hand. “I’m Mike, David’s dad.”

  She smiled a little and shook his hand. “I know. I remember seeing you at the ranch after the Ushbanian mission. You can call me Beaker.”

  I moved closer to David. “Where’s the warehouse? And what about the other agents? I see only a half dozen or so here.”

  “Warehouse,” David answered, “is through the woods a half mile west of here. The other agents are already in place.”

  “Let’s move out,” TL shouted.

  I grabbed my laptop from the back of the van, and Beaker got her small suitcase of supplies. When we turned around, all the IPNC agents had gone. Including Mr. Share and Team One.

  Sheesh, they’re quick.

  TL and David took off at a medium-paced jog, and we followed in pairs—Ms. Gabrier and Beaker first—as Nalani and I brought up the rear.

  TL and David led us across the beach, between two dunes, and into the trees. Spooky thoughts popped into my mind as I took things in. Like something out of a fairy tale gone bad.

  Hundreds of live oaks towered around us, their knotted arms twisted together like gnarly, long, arthritic fingers. Their branches climbed out and up in a maze of thick coverage. Intermittent moonlight filtered through, casting weird shadows.

  I kept my focus on the terrain as we jogged through the dense woods, ducking low branches and hopping downed limbs. These were woods I definitely wouldn’t want to be alone in.

  Minutes later we trotted to the top of another dune. Down a sandy hill about one hundred feet away stood the warehouse. Crouching in the dark tree line, we surveyed the back of it. Fancy cars in neat little rows lined the sides of the place.

  A dirt road led out from the front, trailing away through dunes into the darkness. Four exterior lights, one on each corner, glowed softly, providing the only illumination. Night blanketed the rest of the isolated beachy area.

  This warehouse was so out of place. Like Eduardo had plunked it down in the middle of nowhere. But then, I knew from the aerial view that TL had shown us that this island north of Barracuda Key sat basically deserted.

  Men in military fatigues with machine guns patrolled the exterior. I counted ten in all, which meant ten more guarded the inside. Seemed like a lot. But then we were talking millions and millions of dollars here. Eduardo wanted to make sure his investment remained safe.

  “I trained a couple of those men,” Ms. Gabrier barely whispered. “Years and years ago. Don’t underestimate them. They know what they’re doing.”

  “Some of those guys used to be on our side?” I couldn’t believe it.

  She nodded gravely. “Bad pays better.”

  I didn’t care. It didn’t matter how much money someone paid me. I’d never turn bad.

  TL signaled for me to turn on my laptop.

  Stepping behind a tree, I activated the dimmer mode, assuring there’d be minimal glow. I cued into satellite and X-rayed through the warehouse’s roof.

  Boxes of chemicals sat open, some had already been transferred to the chem lab portion of the warehouse.

  “Keep an eye on that screen,” TL instructed me. “Tell Nalani as soon as they make their first bomb; then we’ll have all the evidence we need and can move in.” He turned to Beaker. “Don’t forget, Adam and Curtis will be on your defuse team. They know to go straight to the lab.”

  Beaker nodded, and, signaling for us to stay, TL and David took off into the woods.

  I felt bad for Nalani having to be my babysitter. I knew she’d probably prefer to be down in the action. “Sorry you have to stay here with me,” I mumbled.

  Nalani shook her head. “It’s not like that.” She pointed out different men on the screen. “Those are all known terrorists. We’re raking in quite the bundle on this bust.”

  Taking my eyes off the screen, I studied the side of her face for a few seconds. “I know about you and TL.” He would kill me for saying that.

  She glanced over at me with a sad smile. “I know.”

  Why are you two so distant? I wanted to ask. “Is everything okay?” I questioned instead. “I saw you crying . . .”

  Nalani switched her attention to my laptop screen, drawing mine as well. More chemicals had been sold and moved to the chem lab. But no bombs yet. As I watched, Eduardo carried a flask of green liquid to a table.

  “Our life is . . . unusual. We, um . . .” she hesitated, like she was trying to decide how much to tell me. “We knew each other when we were kids. We spent time in the same foster home.”

  Nodding to the screen, she put her finger over her lips, signaling no more talking. I focused in on the laptop as the buyers moved into the lab portion of the warehouse.

  Eduardo distributed safety gear, and, as the men suited up, he went to the front of the lab. The men began pouring chemicals, mixing, firing up burners. White smoke trailed upward as one guy poured his solution into a small metal container. He connected a wire and a small timer box.

  “That’s what we needed,” Nalani said. She pulled her collar up and whispered into an attached mike, “Move in.”

  Turning from the laptop, I focused down the hill at the warehouse.

  A patrolman silently dropped to the ground.

  I blinked. What the . . . ?

  One of our guys pulled him under a SUV to hide him. Wow, I didn’t even see him there.

  On the other side of the warehouse, another patrolman quietly dropped, and an agent slid him behind a huge palmetto.

  I scanned the area, searching for more agents, unable to locate them.

  One by one patrolmen dropped, and our guys slid them from view. I didn’t ask if the bad guys were dead or alive. I didn’t want to know. They may have been highly trained, but turning bad apparently had taken away their skills.

  With all ten patrolmen disabled, the place sat very still. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. No good guys, no bad guys. Just cars, the warehouse, darkness, and an occasional frog croak.

  I’d never actually watched a takedown of this magnitude before. We’d discussed it once in one of our PTs. But seeing it live . . . well, it was just plain impressive. These agents were amazing.

  On cue, everything happened at once. Piles of sand lifted and agents crawled from beneath them. Palmetto branches stirred and other agents slinked out. Shadowed figures materialized from the darkness, hidden only by the night. A tree rustled to my right, and I jumped as someone emerged.

  I glanced at Beaker. Her wide-eyed expression mirrored my thoughts exactly.

  Wow.

  Some of the agents wore black, others green, and others tan. A few had palm fronds sticking to their clothes. They all wore hoods to hide their faces.

  No wonder I hadn’t seen any of them.