Witness Protection 2: The Return of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

by Holly Copella

  They heard a floorboard creak just outside the partially opened bedroom door. Both men spun toward the door with their guns aimed. The door slowly opened to reveal a slightly unsteady Monroe with his own gun aimed at them. Both men relaxed.

  “Are you up to some recon?” Kirk asked Monroe.

  “Yeah, just point me in the right direction,” Monroe announced and steadied himself.

  “You’re with me,” Kirk announced. “You can search the back of the lodge, and I’ll head out back to find Lee and Ross.”

  Monroe nodded and followed Kirk from the room with Beck on their heels. They then went their separate ways with different missions.

  †

  Lee sat on the tree stand platform while hugging her bare legs to her wet shirt. She shivered slightly from the chill in the air. Even during the summer, nights in the wooded mountains were cool, and being soaked from her dip in the pool wasn’t helping. She heard someone moving within the woods. Lee held her breath while remaining silent and still. She saw Tonya darting through the woods, but she was too far away for Lee to call out without attracting attention to her location. She had to reach her friend and bring her to the safety of the tree stand. Lee climbed down until she reached the last rung eight feet from the ground. She dangled from the rung and allowed herself to drop to the ground. She landed softly, although it was uncomfortable in her bare feet, and hurried through the woods in the direction Tonya headed.

  “Tonya,” she called in a hushed whisper, attempting to catch her friend’s attention while minding where she stepped in her bare feet. “Tonya!”

  Tonya suddenly stopped and turned from nearly twenty yards away. She saw Lee and appeared relieved. Tonya took a few steps toward her then stopped as horror swept over her face. Lee’s expression dropped. She quickly turned and came face-to-face with Jericho. Before she could scream, he struck her on the head. Lee dropped to the ground. Tonya stared at her fallen friend then met Jericho’s evil gaze from nearly twenty yards away. His devious smile mocked her.

  †

  Only moments later, Ross approached the large tree and looked up to see the empty stand. As concern swept over him, he scanned the surrounding woods, but there was no sign of Lee. His expression hardened to something resembling hostility. Ross hurried through the woods and back toward the lodge. There was the faint sound of movement, causing him to spin with his assault rifle aimed. Kirk aimed his weapon at Ross as well. Both men relaxed. Kirk looked around then met Ross’s gaze as his brows knitted in silent concern.

  “Where’s Lee?” Kirk demanded.

  “She’s not in her perch,” Ross announced sternly. “Get Beck on that damned laptop. I want her position, and I want it yesterday. I’m going to sweep the grounds. If you find anyone who doesn’t belong, take them alive.”

  Kirk nodded and ran back for the lodge and entered through the kitchen, casually stepping over the pool of blood collecting around the two dead men. As he headed into the back corridor, he nearly collided with Beck, who was on his way down the backstairs. Beck looked thoroughly confused.

  “You didn’t find anyone either?” Beck asked.

  “Ross said Lee is missing,” Kirk informed him. “He wants you to pull up heat sensors on your toy. I’m going to continue my search down here. Maybe she ran back inside.”

  Beck nodded and hurried back up the rear stairs. He ran along the second floor hallway and entered his room. Tonya sat on his bed with his laptop open in front of her. She looked at him, jumped up from the bed, and gasped slightly as he aimed his weapon at her. He slowly relaxed and lowered his assault rifle.

  “We’ve been looking for you,” Beck remarked and approached her where she stood near the bed. He indicated the laptop. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I was just--”

  Beck removed his handgun from his pants. “You know what,” he announced curtly and aimed the gun at her while shaking his head, “I don’t even care.”

  She gasped when she saw the semiautomatic aimed at her. “What are you--?”

  “Save it, sweetheart,” Beck snarled. “Lee is missing, and if I find anything has been tampered with on my laptop, I’m putting a bullet in your head.”

  Tonya’s stunned look suddenly turned hateful. “Well, that’s just rude.”

  A shadow loomed over Beck. As he started to turn, someone struck him on the side of the head. Beck dropped to the floor, both his weapons clattering as they struck the hardwood floor alongside him. Tonya raised a skeptical brow and looked at the man standing near Beck’s unconscious body. Jericho grinned and aimed his semiautomatic at Beck’s head.

  Tonya suddenly leaped forward and gasped, “No!”

  Jericho looked at her and appeared surprised then irritated. He anxiously tightened his finger on the trigger.

  “What possible reason is there to keep him alive?” he demanded in a gruff tone.

  “There’s something very important on his laptop. He was interested in something Monroe brought back on a flash drive, but I can’t open the file,” Tonya informed him. “I don’t know what information was passed along to him or who it came from, but it could be important to us. We need to know what he was sent, and if it’s stored somewhere else in case we need to delete it. We need him alive.”

  Jericho frowned with disapproval and lowered his weapon. “I certainly hope that’s the only reason you want him alive,” he snapped. “Because if I find out--”

  Tonya carried the laptop beneath her arm and approached Jericho. She smiled seductively.

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” she informed him and touched his face. “You’re the only one I love.”

  Jericho grinned, pulled her roughly against him, and kissed her aggressively. He broke off the kiss as quickly as he had initiated it then looked at Beck on the floor.

  “Let’s get him out of here before the others find us,” Jericho announced. He swiftly zip tied Beck’s wrists behind his back and duct taped his mouth.

  Tonya opened the laptop and studied the screen that revealed the body heat of those still alive within the lodge. She cast a quick glance at Jericho.

  “Did they get Lee away from here?” she asked then resumed studying the computer screen, checking the location of the rest of the team.

  “Yeah, she’s halfway to the rendezvous by now,” he announced while straightening.

  Tonya looked up from the computer screen. “You have a clear path to the front door,” she informed him. “The guys are all toward the back of the lodge and the rear grounds. I’ll be ten minutes behind you,” Tonya informed him then stuffed the laptop into his backpack. “I just have one loose end to tie up, and then we won’t have to worry about Whiskey Tango Foxtrot ever again.”

  “Ten minutes,” he threatened while slinging the backpack over his shoulder. “If you’re not at the meeting place, you’ll have to keep up this charade for another few days.”

  “I understand,” she replied. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  Jericho nodded and swiftly picked up Beck, tossing him over his shoulder, and approached the bedroom door. As Jericho headed toward the main stairs, Tonya snatched Beck’s discarded semiautomatic and headed in the opposite direction toward her suite. She hurried across the suite and into her bedroom. Bogart clutched his bleeding head but seemed barely conscious where he sat on the floor alongside the bed. He wasn’t even aware she had entered the room. Tonya approached him, paused only a few feet away, and aimed the gun at his head. Bogart sank against the bed with a groan and never even opened his eyes. He was out more than he was awake. Tonya’s finger tightened on the trigger. Someone grabbed Tonya around the neck from behind, causing her to gasp, as a cloth covered her nose and mouth. She struggled only a moment before her eyes rolled back and her body fell limp into her captor’s arms. Mac lowered Tonya to the floor, grinned, and casually tossed the cloth aside.

  “This just isn’t your lucky day,” Mac informed the unconscious woman as she opened a large duffel bag.

&n
bsp; Chapter Twenty-eight

  Mac casually crossed the quiet lobby strewn with blood and dead bodies. She carried the duffel bag over her shoulder and stepped over several bodies on her way to the main entrance. She heard the sound of a gun cocking behind her. Mac suddenly stopped, hesitated a moment, and then slowly turned to see Kirk standing behind her with his semiautomatic aimed at her.

  “Put down the sack,” he ordered gruffly, “and put your hands in the air…or I put a bullet between your eyes.”

  Mac stared at Kirk a moment, smiled sweetly, and hoisted the duffel bag from her shoulder.

  “Just relax, handsome,” she announced. “I’m not looking for trouble.”

  Mac suddenly swung the duffel bag at Kirk. He couldn’t shoot in fear of killing the person in the bag. The heavy bag struck him, taking him to the floor. Kirk flung the bag from him and sprang to his feet, but his gun was left pinned beneath the bag. He faced Mac and sneered his annoyance.

  “That was a mistake,” Kirk informed her.

  He threw a fast, hard punch for her face. Mac blocked his punch and struck him in the face with her own fist, startling him. Before he even had a chance to defend himself, she kicked him twice in the side and punched him in the face. Mac then spun into a roundhouse kick and struck him in the chest, knocking the large man down to his knees. She seemed pleased with herself and straightened while grinning at the fallen man. A high-flying foot suddenly struck her in the chest, sending her rolling several feet across the floor. She came to a stop in a crouched position and glared across the lobby. Zack straightened while staring at her, his face void of emotion. Mac glared at Zack and appeared annoyed.

  “Oh, you wanna play?” she snarled then smiled sweetly. “I’ll play with you.”

  Zack removed a baton from his back pocket and gave it a flick, extending it to two feet.

  “So that’s how you want this to go down?” she demanded.

  Zack remained in attack position with his eyes locked on her. His silence was chilling. Mac suddenly ran for him. Zack swung with his baton. Mac slid between his legs and struck the bottom step with her booted feet. Zack spun, prepared to strike. Mac leaped to her feet, kicked out one of the wooden railing rungs, and leaped over the railing as Zack swung at her. He struck the railing instead of her. She grabbed the discarded rung where it now lie on the steps. As Zack went for a return strike, she deflected his baton with the wooden rung. Zack ran up the outer side of the stairs, leaped over the railing from above, and kicked Mac with both feet on his way down. She toppled down the last three steps and struck the floor. As Zack approached her, she sneered while standing and straightened her leather jacket.

  “Now you’re just pissing me off,” she snarled.

  She lunged for him. Zack and Mac punched and kicked each other with amazing martial arts skills. Batons, fists, and feet were flying in every direction, although each was blocked by the other. Kirk gathered his strength after his surprise attack and stumbled toward the discarded duffel bag. While matching Zack blow for blow, Mac spun in time to kick Kirk in the chest, knocking him back to the floor. She turned in time to block Zack’s flying kick. Kirk writhed in agony on the floor not far from the duffle bag. After another minute or two of kicks and punches, Zack deflected Mac’s right fist only to have her left fist connect with his crotch. He doubled over in agony. Mac straightened near him while grinning proudly and cocked her head to the side.

  “The great equalizer,” she informed him.

  Zack punched her in the crotch. Mac cried out with pain and surprise, clutched her crotch, and nearly fell to the floor. Zack straightened, showing some discomfort from the groin shot he’d received.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he snarled softly. “Did that hurt?”

  She sneered at him while slowly straightening and removed a small bottle from her jacket pocket. She hurled the bottle at him. He easily deflected the bottle flying for his face. The small bottle shattered against his palm. He flicked the liquid from his hand, took a step toward her, and then suddenly stopped. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed to the floor. Mac smiled slyly at him and then collected her duffel bag.

  “We’ll play again some other time,” she announced sweetly. “Nighty night.”

  She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and left through the main door. Kirk crawled across the floor and attempted to reach his discarded gun, but by the time his fingers touched the handle, she was gone.

  “Son-of-a-bitch,” Kirk snarled then collapsed to the floor with a groan.

  †

  Bogart slowly woke to Ross crouching over him and lightly slapping his face. He groaned while clutching his head and nearly fell back to the floor alongside the bed.

  “It was that bitch, Tonya,” he muttered to Ross.

  Ross stood over him while Monroe stood just inside the doorway holding an assault rifle.

  “And you were supposed to keep an eye on her,” Ross snarled his annoyance for the newcomer. “How the hell did she get the slip on you?”

  Bogart frowned and shrugged. “Just one of those things,” he replied lowly.

  “You rolled over and fell asleep,” Monroe launched back with disgust.

  “No, I didn’t roll over and fall asleep,” Bogart snapped while glaring at Monroe. He then fell silent and groaned. “That girl has the stamina of a mechanical bull.”

  “I knew it was a mistake depending on you,” Ross remarked and pointed a demanding finger at him. “You had one assignment. Keep an eye on Tonya, and you blew it!”

  “We’ll find her,” Bogart announced and attempted to stand, although he was having a difficult time maintaining his balance from his head injury. He made it to his knees and stopped, clutching the bed to keep from falling.

  “She’s gone,” Ross launched back with a look of rage in his eyes. “She’s gone and they took Lee!”

  Bogart stared at Ross and the look of hostility on his face. He frowned, unable to hide the shame of his incompetence. Ross turned to Monroe.

  “Find the others,” he demanded. “I want to know why Beck hasn’t reported the location of those roaming the property. Make sure nothing happened to him.”

  Monroe nodded, cast a glare at Bogart, and then hurried from the room with his assault rifle. Ross looked back at Bogart, who remained kneeling on the floor alongside the bed while clutching the mattress for support.

  “Your assignment is over,” Ross snarled. “We’re dropping you off in town, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “I messed up, I know,” Bogart said in an apologetic tone. “But I can fix this.”

  “I told you that woman was up to something,” Ross lashed out. “I told you she needed to be watched. Kirk said she called someone yesterday afternoon. You knew the score, and you blew it! If any of my men are dead because of your fuck-up, you’re going to wish you never met me!”

  Ross turned and left the room. Bogart allowed his hand to fall from his bleeding temple. He frowned while pulling himself up from his knees and collapsed into a sitting position on the bed. He lowered his head and clasped his hands between his knees.

  “I’ll make this right,” he muttered softly.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  The helicopter touched down just three hours later toward the back of the partially renovated lodge. Ross, Monroe, Kirk, and Zack hurried for the helicopter, each carrying a duffel bag. They tossed their gear into the storage compartment as the helicopter’s rotors slowed. Jackie climbed out of the front, tossed her headset on the seat, and glared at the already grumpy men.

  “How the hell did you lose both witnesses?” she demanded then considered. “And a team member? I haven’t seen Holden this angry since, well, since I left him handcuffed to a bed.”

  All four men cast glares at Bogart as he approached with less enthusiasm. Ross looked back at Jackie.

  “It’s a long story,” Ross muttered through gritted teeth. “Was Holden able to locate any private planes taking off in the time frame I’d given him?”<
br />
  “There was one heading to Chicago in your time frame. He’s almost certain that’s them,” Jackie announced as she attempted to collect her emotions. “Holden has men at the major airports and at several private fields. If they’re expecting a welcome party, the plane is small enough to land just about anywhere, and you’re shit out of luck.”

  “How much of a head start do they have on us?” Monroe asked as he approached.

  “They took off two hours ago. They must have had a plane waiting at the same private airfield where I landed,” Jackie informed him. “The guy who lent me the helicopter confirmed a plane took off shortly before I arrived. If they are heading to the Chicago area, they’ll be landing in about an hour.”

  “It’ll take us a little more than three hours to reach Chicago from here,” Ross remarked and groaned. “If Holden’s men don’t intercept them, they’ll have a two-hour head start on us.”

  “Hey, I got here as fast as I could,” Jackie remarked. “But I can shave a half an hour off your flight time once we reach the private plane, if I break a few laws.”

  “Do what you can.” He looked at the others. “We need to go--now,” Ross informed his men.

  They climbed into the helicopter. Bogart prepared to climb aboard but lacked enthusiasm. Jackie studied his defeated look then folded her arms across her chest.

  “I assume this was your screw-up.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Bogart muttered then climbed into the back with the others.

  Jackie shook her head and jumped into the pilot’s seat.

  †

  The private plane no sooner landed before the steps dropped. The remaining members of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot wasted little time running down the steps with their gear slung over their shoulders. Bogart took his time walking down the steps with his bag nearly dragging behind him. Jackie followed him and studied his defeated attitude. It was possibly the first time she appeared sympathetic toward the man.