Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Rescuing Annabeth (Kindle Worlds) (Team Cerberus Book 2)

by Melissa Kay Clarke

  sadder ctr Phoenix. fedora cell. 10-12 terrorists. 100-150 hostages. i'm underground. Riv / Hick inside. exits sealed except one. possible explosives. advise.

  He pressed send then silenced his phone.

  Within five minutes, the device vibrated, and the screen lit up. It was a message from Bruiser.

  Stay put. Bringing Bravo. ETA 90.

  Chapter 16

  Everything was going precisely to plan.

  The man could barely contain his glee as the truck slammed into the front of the Center with a boom that shook the surrounding buildings. He watched as various emergency workers appeared on the scene. Each time one tried to enter the building; they were forced back with yells and gunfire. It took several additional deaths before they listened and concentrated on the carnage outside the building.

  Zero Hour

  Phoenix emergency services were working diligently to remove the hundreds of injured people that had been waiting for the doors to open as quickly as possible. A large panel truck had backed over the waiting crowd and rammed itself in the doorway. Moments later, the facade collapsed as the truck exploded burying the front in a pile of rock and glass. The police were trying to restore some order and clear out the area to minimize more causalities. Three emergency workers lay on the ground covered in sheets from their attempt to breach the building. Though they could not see the shooter, it was obvious they were being watched very closely.

  Bravo team had been on site for twenty minutes now and was diligently collecting any data they could. They knew very little of what was going on inside. What they did know came courtesy of Toad holed up somewhere inside. Bruiser and Wolf stared at the blueprints spread out before them in the room they had commandeered in the Regency Inn behind the Sadder Performance and Exhibition Center. "This is the main exposition floor," Wolf stabbed at the large area. "They have shut down the entire floor, chained the exits and have the hostages here, in the center. The front was glass and stone. It's collapsed making an entry via the doors impossible."

  "Are we sure this is Fedora? He always blows shit up and then rants afterward," Mozart growled as he glared at the plans.

  "Toad thinks so. He said it was the same babble. I'm not positive what's holding them back, but you can bet your ass there's a reason." Bruiser assured them.

  Abe, Cookie, Finch, and Railroad marched through the door. The four of them were covered in grime with sweaty streaks trickling down their faces. The temperature was steadily climbing in the Phoenix sun making every step exhausting. Thankfully the air was still on in the center, or the increased heat could make the situation worse. The last thing they needed was short tempers on top of the already volatile state.

  "Sit-Rep," Wolf barked. He and Bruiser shared leadership for the group working in tandem like a well-oiled machine.

  "Good news and bad. Good news is the civilians who were upstairs when they hit are all evacuated through the upper balcony and down to the patio. That's a few hundred less potential casualties. Damn good that they chose today instead of tomorrow. Saturday is the biggest day, and there would have been thousands here. The bad news is, the doors at the stairwells are all sealed and the dogs hit on C4 on each one. The elevators are stopped, and the power's cut. They locked the doors going into the hall," Abe reported as he pointed to the plans spread out on the table. "They have wireless cameras installed at each door. It's going to be tough getting inside. They saw us snooping around and threatened to kill the hostages if we didn't get back. Toad confirmed via text there are cameras inside as well."

  "That's not all Toad found out." Bruiser dropped his cell on the plans.

  Benny leaned over and read the text out loud. "I overheard the guards talking. They are waiting for a bigger media presence. The leader, who calls himself Amir, plans on blowing the place on national television for maximum impact. He wants the world to see the U.S. fail on a grand scale."

  "Mother humper," Finch muttered. "It's a suicide mission. They have no intention of letting the hostages go. That also explains why they didn't just blow it allowing most of the potential victims escape. They are opting for exposure to a larger body count."

  "We need to buy some time. If they are waiting for a bigger media push, then we close down that avenue. Cowboy, you handle it."

  "On it, Bruise."

  Damn, but it was good to have Cowboy back with them, if only for a short time. He had been getting ready to leave for the airport when Toad's message came. Immediately, he canceled his flight and was ready to go with them. Toad, Hick, and River were brothers and SEALs never left SEALs behind. Ever.

  "We've got a slight advantage," Wolf reminded them. "We've got three on the inside."

  "Yeah but we're only in contact with one of them," Railroad reminded them. "And I have an idea on how we can fix that."

  Before Railroad could tell them, the door flew open and several men entered, approaching the table. The team bristled as one of them eyed them warily. "Christopher Feltzer, Homeland Security."

  A tall man wearing a dark blue suit stepped out from behind him. "Dave Ballard, FBI. My team is on the way. Thank you, but we have it from here."

  "Oh, hell no."

  "This is bullshit."

  "Forget it."

  Bruiser threw up his hand to quiet the outcry from his fellow SEALs. "With all due respect, Feltzer, we're not going anywhere. You can work with us, or we can work alone, but we're staying. Two of our team members are in there along with an ex-member and their women. We're not standing back and watching from the sidelines." He shook his head emphatically. "Besides, the U.S. military has been chasing Haafiz al-Bashir for years. We are pretty sure this is a sleeper cell organized by him. If we have any chance of finding where that bastard is hiding, we're going to need new intel. One of them in there has to know where he is."

  "This is our show, Marine. We'll let you know if we need you." Ballard snarled.

  The team stiffened. "We'll see about that. And, we're SEALs, not Marines." Wolf stalked off pulling his cell out. He made a call, talked into the mouthpiece then hung up. Turning back, he crossed his arms. Ten minutes of standoff ended as the cell in Feltzer's pocket went off. Pointing to the Fed, he deadpanned, "Your boss wants to talk to you."

  Feltzer's eyes widened in confusion. Taking out the cell, he pressed it to his ear. Feltzer's confusion turned to outright shock. "Yes, Sir." He listened a few more moments then nodded. "I understand, Sir." He punched the phone and dropped it into his pocket. "I don't know how you did it, but we're working with you." He turned to look at his counterpart. "They are taking point. The order came from all the way up." Narrowing his eyes his voice lowered. "But, you don't make a move without keeping me in the loop. Got it?"

  "Got it," they answered then turned back to the papers stacked on the table.

  "Go ahead, Railroad. What's your idea?"

  Toad knew they were in deep shit. From the little bit he had been able to piece together from the guards' chatter, the clock was ticking down, and he didn't want anyone near here when the timer hit zero. It was going to be up to him to get this situation under control as soon as possible. He was their wild card, their ace in the hole. The terrorists didn't know he was there. The plan Railroad and the others had hatched was a good one, but it was going to be tricky to instigate. So far, all was going to plan as he quietly pulled out the equipment he would need from the media center that faced the smaller stage sitting behind the bathrooms on one side of the exhibition floor. Toad was an expert when it came to surveillance equipment, and they were going to need all the tricks he could pull out of his hat to make this work. Glancing over his shoulder every few minutes, listening for any guards approaching, he worked the in-house equipment until he found the signal they used to monitor the cameras placed on the floor. "Twelve. It'd take too long to close them all down and loop back," he muttered to himself. Instead, he concentrated on the ones on one side only, creating a ten-minute loop for the two trained on the elevator and the corridor outside. He
winced when the guard wandered through the scene, paused at the elevator and peered into space. Turning around, he sauntered out of the view, crossing through the second feed and disappeared. Toad didn't have time to edit it out. Instead, he completed the task and broadcasted the signal back to the feeds. Holding his breath, he listened then let it out when it appeared nobody noticed the loops being activated. Perfect.

  Slipping out of the room, he peered down the hall, checking the way to ensure that nobody was there. The guard stood in the doorway of the elevator, his gun pointing up, head tipped to the side as he studied the space. Shit. What he wouldn't do for a weapon right now. Drawing out the knife, he pulled open the tiny blade and gripped it tightly in his hand. It was all he had, and he hated to defile Rayna's gift like this, but he didn't have much choice. One of the two of them wasn't walking away and he'd be damned if it was him. Taking a breath, Toad inched down the hall then struck. He grabbed the terrorist around the head, slapping his hand over his mouth as the fist clutching the knife slammed down, jarring the assault rifle from his grasp. It clattered to the floor of the hall. He winced at the noise, but he couldn't help it now. Hopefully, there were no other guards nearby to hear it. Quickly, he plunged the short blade of the pocket knife directly into the side of the man's neck, severing the jugular. Pushing him forward into the elevator, he kept the man pinned against the wall until he quit struggling and slumped to the floor in a growing pool of blood. Drawing the knife out, he wiped it on the man's sleeve, closed it and returned it to his pocket. Letting out a soft warble of a whistle, he glanced up at the ceiling hatch opened and a pair of legs thrust through. Quickly, Dude dropped to the floor and reached up. A black bag was lowered, and he grabbed it, stepping to the side. Railroad dropped through followed by Wolf. Railroad unzipped the bag, pulling out a Sig Sauer and handed it over. Toad checked it, popped magazine into the butt and shoved the pistol into the waistband of his jeans. He then took the earwig and mic set and put them on. Railroad held out a plastic bag containing two more Sigs, four magazines, and two mics.

  "Ready?"

  "Yeah let's get this party started," Toad muttered.

  Chapter 17

  The man kept silent vigilance from the balcony. He had warned Amir of the search party an hour ago and watched them leave quickly shortly afterward. Now the roof was clear and none dared to approach. He smiled. There will be only one outcome from this day.

  - 2 hours

  Every eye in the room was locked on the man walking back and forth, muttering to himself. He made a slow, tight circle, stopping every few moments to stare at a group of monitors that was sitting on one of the artist's tables. As he made his circuit, his booted feet crunched over swag, books and other litter strewn over the floor. Even from where Hick and the others sat in a group, he could hear him talking to himself.

  "Where are the trucks? Where are the reporters?" He stopped, looked at the screen then resumed pacing. "There must be more. Time is almost up."

  "What do you think is going on," Hick muttered to River.

  River's eyes watched the man as he curled his arms around Joselyn settled between his legs on the floor. Everyone in the room had been herded into the middle and all the furniture thrown carelessly against the walls. Every so often, a chair would shift, tumbling down the pile and making one of the hostages cry out in fear. Without taking his eyes off the leader, River answered. "I'm thinking they are keeping this quiet, not giving him the audience he craves. You heard him spilling his bilge earlier. He is looking for a big audience to watch this crapfest."

  "God, I've got to pee," Annabeth muttered. "My bladder is ready to float off. You may want to back up, Hick. I'd hate to wash you down when it lets go."

  She sat much like Joselyn did, back to his front with his legs cradled on either side. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed gently. "I'll see what I can do," he muttered into her ear. Scooting back, he slowly rose to his feet, his hands high in the air. "Excuse me."

  One of the six men roving around the area hurried over, pointing his assault rifle at Hick. "Sit!" He screamed at him.

  "We've been here for a couple of hours, and some of the ladies need a bathroom break. It's going to get smelly in here really fast if you don't let them go to the restroom."

  He heard Annabeth mutter to Joselyn, "He's channeling Die Hard."

  In answer, the man raised the gun and brought the butt down on Hick's shoulder. He hissed and doubled over as red sprouted in the area. "Sit down!"

  "What's going on?" The leader hurried over as Hick dropped to his knees with his hands up.

  "He says the women need to go to the bathroom."

  The leader glared at Hick who knelt, boldly staring at the man with barely concealed hostility burning in his gaze. "It's about to get messy in here really fast," he said in an even tone. "Could you please let them take a break? I don't want to spend my last few hours smelling urine."

  The leader touched the bloom of crimson darkening Hick's shirt. "What is this? Why are you bleeding?" He turned to the guard that had struck him. "What did you do? I told you to keep them quiet."

  Hmmm. No trace of an accent. The leader must be home grown. "It's nothing. I hurt myself a few days ago. I popped a stitch," Hick ground out.

  The man pushed the neck of Hick's shirt aside, exposing a white bandage with blood in the middle. Letting it go, he stepped back.

  "So about the bathroom?" Hick asked.

  "Very well." The leader pointed to two of the guards. "Take them to the bathroom eight at a time."

  Annabeth, Joselyn, and another six women walked ahead of the two terrorists out the only unlocked door and disappeared around the corner. Hick waited impatiently until they re-emerged several moments later. Likewise, another group was chosen and then a third.

  When the fourth group returned, one of the women broke off and approached them. Dropping to the floor beside Annabeth, she watched the next group disappear. When they did, she turned to him and whispered. "I have something for you."

  She looked up again and made sure no-one was paying attention to her before she continued in a low tone. "When I got to the bathroom, there was a man in there. I about had a heart attack when I opened the door, and he was squatting on the toilet. Thank God the guards stayed outside the door. He said his name was Toad and told me help is on the way. Then he showed me a picture of you on his phone and asked me to give you this." She pressed two small items into his hand. Hick looked down and saw they were mini earwigs like the ones they used on missions. That could only mean the team was here. Toad was able to alert them. There were no microphones, but at least he could hear what was going on.

  "Thank you," he whispered back. "You're very brave to do this."

  "Getting out of this alive that would be thanks enough." She grinned slyly. "Unless Toad's single?"

  Hick chuckled which pulled the attention of the guard returning with another group of women. Carefully making his face a mask of indifference, he focused on the floor. After a moment, another group of women was taken.

  "Yeah, he's single. After this is over, you should talk to him."

  "Thanks, I'll do that."

  The woman scooted off. Hick looked over at River and saw a quizzical look on his face. Glancing around to ensure no-one was looking, he tossed the second earwig over then stuffed his own into his ear. Relief flooded through him when he heard Wolf's voice.

  "We've got eyes on you. Fist for no, flat for yes. Can you hear me clear?"

  Both of the men flattened their palms to the floor.

  "Good. Here's the plan."

  Ten minutes later, the last of the women returned from their bathroom breaks. Starting from the other side, the terrorists rounded up a group of men and escorted them to the bathroom. There were far fewer men than women so he knew it wouldn't take as long. When it came to their turn, River and Hick stood and allowed themselves to be pushed unceremoniously through the door and into the utility hall. Once inside, Hick made his way to the enclose
d stall, bypassing the row of urinals.

  "Where are you going?" One of the terrorists asked in a harsh tone. He motioned toward the others standing at the urinals.

  "Man, I had tacos for lunch, my stomach is churning. If you want me to lay tracks in the urinal, okay, but it would be easier and a lot cleaner in the toilet."

  After a momentary hesitation, he nodded. "Be quick," he snapped then leaned against the row of sinks. Hick went to the last stall and entered, shutting the door behind. Bracing on the toilet he quietly lifted the lid to the tank, grateful they hadn't upgraded the bathrooms to the tankless commodes many places now favored. Just as Wolf promised, there was a plastic bag.

  He made a rude noise with his tongue. "Ahh.. yeah, that's much better. Sorry guys, more room out than in."

  Ignoring the chorus of groans and complaints, Hick opened the bag, took out the two Sigs, magazines and microphones. Stuffing the mics and extra magazines into his pocket, he tossed the bag back into the tank and recovered it. Sitting on the toilet lid, he made another farting noise, dragging it out as he slid the magazine into the base of each Sig and engaged the safety. Stuffing one of the weapons into the waistband on the side of his jeans, he put the second in his pocket and pulled his shirttail out of his jeans down over them. The two extra magazines went into his other pocket. He stood, flushed the toilet and opened the door. Hunching over slightly, he wrapped his arms around his stomach as if it were hurting and stumbled out of the stall. The terrorist's eyes swept over him until he stood at the sink, washing his hands then drying them. River stood beside him, washing his hands as well. They watched their guard via the mirror until he turned away. Quickly, Hick slid the pocketed Sig out and over to River who took it and pushed it into his pocket. Shuffling along with the others, the two followed the rest of the hostages back out to the floor. Hick felt better. His team was here, watching their six and they had each a weapon.