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Code Name: Nina's Choice (Warrior's Challenge)

Page 28

by Natasza Waters


  Lumin raised a hand. “Goodbye, Anthony.”

  “Thanks Tinman, you hit pay dirt,” Mace said turning from the long driveway that led to the deserted road after the gates swung open.

  Nina turned on the GPS.

  “I know which way is Vegas,” Mace said with a crinkle in his brow.

  “I know that, Mace, I’m programming in the address Mr. Porter gave us.”

  “Right. Sorry,” he said sharply. His guts were tied in knots. Now he knew what Ghost must have felt like when the Shark had taken Snow White. Tinman was one helluva SEAL, and so was he, but he had a fleeting wish that Ghost was here with them. Mace’s phone rang, and he checked the caller before answering. He’d had several pages from the base and so had Tinman. He was surprised to see Lieutenant Cobbs on the display. “Sir?”

  “Where the hell are you, Mace?”

  “Better you don’t know, sir. Plausible deniability.”

  “Tadpole, Ditz and Stitch are standing beside me, and instead of leaving us looking obvious as hell in front of this strip casino tell me where the fuck you are, SEAL.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he swore quietly. Nathan squawked.

  “Position,” Cobbs growled, losing patience.

  “Sir, you can’t be involved.”

  “Your squad does not leave a man behind, Sniper. I thought you learned that lesson in BUD/s. Civilian or SPECOP missions are not a qualifying factor. We left Fox and Ed behind. Ghost has put in a mock exercise and trumped Captain Harrington. Now where the fuck are you?”

  “Fifteen miles away, sir. We’re heading to an address someone gave us to find the guy who took Gabbs.”

  “Took Gabbs, Nina’s daughter? What the fuck? Do you have a room in town?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We meet there first. You’re going to fill us in, and then we’ll lay out a plan.”

  “Grand Palms, sir, twenty-five ten.”

  “ETA fifteen mikes.”

  “The rest of the squad is here?” Nina’s eyes widened.

  “Looks like. The odds just improved greatly, babe.”

  Nina covered her eyes, and leaned her head back. Tony reached over the seat and squeezed Nina’s shoulder. “Hey, red, you’re not letting doubt play pool with your brain cells, are ya? Squirt is going to be back in our arms by tonight.”

  Nina’s eyes twinkled and a small grin cocked one side of her lips. “Our arms?” she said.

  “Yeah, I mean you’re part of the team, so is little red. We’re family. One big, crazy-ass family.”

  The lights of the Strip weren’t more than a couple miles ahead of them. Mace winked at Tony in the mirror and got a thumbs-up in return.

  * * * *

  Within ten minutes the elevator door opened to the twenty-fifth floor and the guys were waiting in the corridor. Lieutenant Cobbs looked like he did before going into any mission—menacing. How he wooed a woman like Marg Cobbs to be his wife was beyond him, Mace thought. The aggressive warrior rarely cracked a smile, but when Nina exited the elevator his lieutenant grabbed her by both shoulders and looked into her eyes, his expression morphing into empathy.

  “Nina, I know your motherly instincts are kicking in, and there isn’t anything more dangerous than a mother who’s lost her daughter, but you’re going to leave this last part of the mission to us. Regardless of what’s going on here.”—he turned his silver-grey eyes on Mace— “We will fix this.”

  Nina began to argue, but the warrior turned on a look that read you don’t have a hope in hell of arguing about this.

  Mace opened the door to their room, and they rallied in a circle on the queen beds.

  “All of it. In brief,” Lieutenant Cobbs demanded. “I’ve got my own explaining to do when I get home. I left Marg drowning in moving boxes. She’s not happy with me.”

  Mace nodded and gave Cobbs a debrief of Cayson, his role, and that he was neck deep in debt to some bad dudes.

  “You said you know where he is,” Cobbs stated.

  “Yes, sir. And it sounds like we have backup if things go bad. Steven Porter is the owner of the Grand Palms, and he’s well-connected. We have his number. If we call, he’ll bring civilian reinforcements.”

  Tadpole found a hotel room guide, and laid the fold-out map between them. “Here.” Mace pointed to a point two blocks off Tropicana.

  Caleb put the address into a satellite map on his iPad and they viewed the area. “Looks like a small pocket of residential homes surrounded by condos. These look like four businesses situated behind the homes,” he said.

  A mighty bang on the door made Nina jump. Cobbs’ brow lifted, and he wandered to the door. “Master Chief,” he greeted before Fox was even visible.

  “Having a search party without me?” Fox said, striding in with a churlish curl on his lip. Nina stretched her arms out, and Fox gladly received the hug. “So whose ass are we crackin’ tonight?” Fox plunked down in the only spare chair.

  “Wade took Gabbs and he’s asking for one million dollars.”

  Fox shook his head as if something was stuck in his ear. “I’ll catch up, keep going,” he said.

  “Steven Porter gave us this address, but it doesn’t mean he has Gabbs and Cayson there. This is probably only one of his hiding holes in the city,” Tinman added. Guys like this have plenty of floor space to move to in case someone is trying to find them. We have to be certain she’s there, grab her and go. If we screw this up, we won’t get a second chance.”

  “Agreed.” Cobbs turned the map to study it. “We start with what we know. Cayson and Gabbs will be together, and I’m betting Cayson is as much of a hostage as Gabriella right now.” Cobbs looked to Mace and then to Nina. “We’ll recon first. If we confirm their location are we bringing them both out?”

  Nina inhaled deeply, and her gaze shot to him biting her lip at the same time. “Sir, I—” Mace didn’t know how to answer that or even if he had a right to.

  “No.” All heads turned toward Tinman. “Cayson created his dugout; he can deal with his own sandbags.” Once again, all heads turned, and they looked to Nina.

  “I—don’t care about Wade, I just want my daughter.”

  A nodding of heads confirmed her decision.

  “Let’s go get a lay of the land, shall we?” Cobbs suggested.

  Mace had to admit with the squad mostly present and accounted for, and their lieutenant putting it on the line with them, they were going to get Gabbs back.

  Cobbs led the way out the door, before opening it he turned his sharp gaze on Mace. “We will retrieve Gabbs tonight, but like any mission we go in with eyes wide open, and all good training within your abilities at hand. More so than any task you’ve deployed to achieve none of us, I repeat none of us, can get injured or killed. If that happens, we’ll all be working at McDonald’s.”

  “Good copy, Lieutenant,” Mace said.

  Cobbs turned his harsh attention on Nina. “You can come as far as the car park downstairs, the rest is team business. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” Nina nodded.

  Lieutenant Cobbs popped the trunk of his car.

  “What’s this?” Nina asked.

  “Compliments of the U.S. Navy.” Cobbs started handing out comm sets and vests. “Just a few things that might come in handy.” The guys pulled the weapons from a duffel bag Cobbs unzipped.

  “We’re gonna be in big shit if the locker hound finds these missing,” Ditz stated.

  “Friends in high places.” Cobbs checked the chamber and racked a magazine, then shoved it in a holster on his chest. “We clean ’em and have them back by tomorrow afternoon, no one’s the wiser.”

  Mace couldn’t believe how the squad had put everything on the line for him and Nina. “Guys, I don’t know what to say.”

  Fox loaded his weapon, and snagged two more magazines, tucking them in his pocket. “Sniper, you’ve saved all our asses at least once over the years. Brothers stand beside brothers.” Fox adjusted the comm set and clipped the box to hi
s belt. “And when we get back home, you’re getting a tattoo for keeping this from me.”

  “Uh—” He was going to argue when his eyes set on Tadpole, who had a grin stretched clear across his young mug. “Green and white ink would be preferred.”

  “I could stay in the car.” Nina grasped his hand. “You could use another set of eyes.”

  Mace shook his head. “We’ll bring her out, Nina. Trust me.”

  “Mace. There hasn’t been a second since I’ve known you that I didn’t believe in you.”

  “Good, then you won’t mind marrying me when this is all over.”

  Nina’s eyes doubled in size. All movement stopped, including the guys. They exchanged glances.

  “Did you just…is that a…here in the…?”

  With every part sentence Mace tilted his head a little more, offering her no help and an innocent expression.

  She ran out of air and stared at him, then blinked once. “Yes.”

  The guys chuckled and gave him a congratulatory swat on the back. He counted down from five because he knew Nina, and stood ready for the attack when she flew into his arms and kissed him. Dying tonight wouldn’t be so bad. His redheaded siren was his forever girl.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Cobbs pushed a shopping cart along the sidewalk. One wheel squeaked in protest as he maneuvered it across the cracks in the cement. He stopped at a garbage can, scrimmaged through the contents and threw a couple plastic soda bottles in his cart.

  Tinman squatted beside Mace, taking cover behind a green city service box as they watched their lieutenant. A tattered ball cap concealed all but his mouth and chin. With a ripped trench coat and a quick roll around in someone’s front garden there was no distinguishing Cobbs from the hundred other bums wandering the outskirts of the Strip and back alleys.

  “Next house, Lieutenant,” Ditz communicated in the comm set while searching the night with infrared glasses. “There’s a guy sitting on the front porch. Looks like he’s just out for a smoke. Could be a guard.”

  Cobbs continued his slow ramble down the sidewalk. The address Steven Porter had given them was a small house with a lawn burned to a crisp by the Nevada sun, and a sickly-looking palm tree sitting on the right corner. A rickety six-foot high fence flanked both sides of the house. On the front porch, a small light poorly illuminated the peeling paint and badly scarred door. Cobbs stopped to dig through the garbage can. The guy sitting on the steps flicked his cigarette. The hot end glowed in the night until it rolled into a crack on the broken walkway.

  “Hey, get the hell outta there,” the guy yelled at Cobbs.

  Cobbs shuffled around and jerked his head. “You got a few coins to spare?” he said, then coughed.

  “No, man. Get out of here.”

  “How about a smoke? Haven’t had one for days.”

  The guy on the front porch heaved himself up, his cowboy boots clicking on the pavement. “Jesus, man, take it and go,” he said, flipping the smoke toward Cobbs.

  Cobbs let it drop to the ground instead of snatching it out of the air. “Thanks,” he mumbled and scurried after the smoke. He lit the thing, and then hummed as he pushed the cart down the sidewalk. After passing two houses he spit the smoke out. “Fuck, those things are awful.” He coughed and said, “Listen up, the guy’s packing a weapon. House has blinds, but there’s definitely others inside. I saw the movement of two men. House can’t be more than seven hundred square feet. I’m going to wheel around to the alley and check it out from there. Everyone stand by.”

  “Copy,” Ditz said.

  “Doubt it has an alarm system,” Tony said.

  “This is only a holding house,” Cobbs mumbled. “I have my doubts Gabbs is here, but there might be someone inside who knows where she is.”

  “Be my pleasure to get the information,” Fox chimed in from his hiding spot down the road.

  They waited until Cobbs cut between two post war homes, and began his trek up the alley. “All’s clear in the rear. Three men inside that I can see. Is the guy still out front?”

  “Roger that,” Ditz answered.

  “House is in pretty poor shape. Getting in won’t be a problem. Sniper, you, Tinman and Tadpole enter from the rear.”

  They could hear Cobbs running. “I’m going to have a conversation with the guard out front.”

  Mace and the guys made their way to the alley. No movement, not even the bark of a dog broke the still, cold night. They slipped through the back gate and ran low to the back of the house, he and Tadpole on one side of the door, Tinman on the other.

  “Caleb, I want you in the car and ready to go,” Mace ordered. “These guys aren’t going to appreciate our company. We’re going to be dodging bullets. I’m going to keep one alive to get our answers. Civilian police will be called and on their way within minutes. Ditz, keep those glasses scanning. No runners from the house.”

  “Rogers,” came from the squad. He, Tinman and Tadpole pulled their weapons. He nodded at Tinman to take the door down.

  Tinman, the squad’s Lead Breacher kicked the door and dropped to his knees. That’s all the time Mace had before the bullets started chipping into wood and drywall. Two guys went down as he and Tadpole fired around the corner. The third guy leaped into a side room to take cover.

  “Listen to me,” Mace yelled at him. “I’m not going to kill ya. I just want information. If I don’t get it in the next thirty seconds, we’re coming in there. There’s one of you and many of us. You want to live another day, gun down, hands up, out here.”

  They all heard the clunk of a weapon, and saw it slide into the room. Hands appeared from the doorway.

  “On your belly,” Mace shouted. When the guy appeared, Mace drove him to the floor and restrained his arms. “I want my daughter back.”

  All weapons pointed toward the door when it flew open. Cobbs dragged the guy inside and dropped his body with a thunk.

  “Where is Pedro? He has my daughter.”

  “If I tell you, he’ll kill me. I’m dead either way.”

  “I’m not going to kill you, and the highway isn’t far. Get your ass outta town, I don’t care. At least with me you got a chance of living. Where is she?”

  “Griffin Industrial Park, east end. He’s holding her there.”

  “Is Wade Cayson with her?”

  The guy nodded.

  Mace glanced at the squad, and then hammered the guy on the head with his weapon. “Tie him up. Gag ‘em. We don’t want him singing to Pedro when he wakes up.” Tadpole retrieved a strip of bed sheet from one of the rooms. “Ditz?”

  “Got it, Mace. It’s about twenty minutes away, and hurry the hell up. I hear sirens.”

  “Let’s go,” Cobbs ordered.

  They darted into the waiting car, and cut through a few side streets then headed for the industrial park. Mace dialed and waited for an answer on the other end of the line. “Mrs. Porter, Mace Callahan.”

  “I’m putting you on speaker phone. Go ahead, Mace,” she said.

  Mace heard the echo of being switched to speaker. “Mr. Porter, Griffin Industrial Park sound familiar?”

  “Moira, think it’s the kid’s bed time.”

  “Come on, babies, Mom’s going to read you a story, okay.”

  “Night, Daddy,” a little girl sang out in the background, echoed by her brother.

  “Night, babies.”

  Mace waited. A quick look in the side mirror kept his hopes up. No red and blues on their tail.

  “Griffin Park is owned by Pedro. It’s not a large complex, but it’s out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “We can see that on the satellite image, sir.”

  “He takes people who need a heavy hand out there.”

  Mace heard Cobbs talking on the phone to someone, relaying what they knew. Who the hell was he talking to? “Do you know how many men he travels with for protection?”

  “Not for certain, I’ve seen him once or twice and he’s usually got five or six guys flanking
him. He’s made himself plenty of enemies.”

  “We’ve left a few guys at the address you gave us.”

  “Any of them alive?”

  “One, but he’s either in police custody or hightailing it out of Vegas.”

  “Can he identify any of you?”

  “Nope, and don’t think he was awake yet to see what we drove. All he can report is a bunch of guys with masks in dark clothing.”

  “Mace, Pedro runs his operation like an army. If he’s out at Griffin Park he’ll have lookouts a mile away. There’s only one road in, and it’s surrounded by desert. It’d be a miracle if they didn’t see you long before you get there.”

  Mace grunted. “We’re pretty good at being unseen. Afghanistan is a big desert.”

  Mr. Porter chuckled on the other end of the phone. “That it is, but what if you had air support?”

  “Sir? I think they’d hear a helicopter.”

  “Sure they would, but what if it was only a diversion?”

  “That would help, but we’re kinda flying under the wire here, sir. We don’t plan on stealing any aircraft tonight.”

  “Don’t have to steal ’em, son.”

  A mile and a half away from their destination they parked the car in a shallow gully on the side of the road. The desert opened up in front of them. The closest business was a mile behind them. A clear night with a half-moon hung in the Nevada sky. They checked each other’s gear, just as they did on every mission before setting out on foot.

  “If there is someone watching as outpost he’ll stay to the main road. We should head east for a quarter mile, and then turn north to the target,” Fox said, scanning the landscape with the infrared. “There’s no one sitting behind a tumbleweed. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  “Tadpole, you’re maintaining position here,” Cobbs ordered.

  “Sir, we don’t know how many tangos are in there.”

  Cobbs adjusted his earpiece. “We’re going to need a backup extraction. You’re it.”

 

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