by Melody Anne
“I’ll take that bet,” Brackish said. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“I can’t believe you’re proposing,” Green said. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Sleep said. “And I truly appreciate you guys helping me with this.”
“Hell yeah, we’re helping you,” Brackish said. “Not because we like you or anything, but because we want to see the moment when she turns you down.”
“Not going to happen boys. She thinks I’m amazing.”
Green suddenly frowned. “Hold up. What in the hell am I shooting?”
Eyes and Sleep laughed hard at that. Eyes had purposely left Green’s targets off the paper . . . just for a bit more fun.
“You’re going to drop rose petals over them as Sleep falls on his knee and pulls out the ring. And then after she says yes, if she says yes, you’re going to be hitting targets setting off fireworks over the ocean.”
“Damn, you put some real time and effort into this,” Green said with awe. “This is pretty bad ass.”
“Yeah, I love this woman big, and anything less than a spectacular proposal wouldn’t be acceptable.”
“So this is music I’m blasting out over the ocean,” Brackish said as he opened the drive on his computer. “Can you get any lamer with your choice of songs?”
“Yep, I’m sure I could,” Sleep said with a cheesy grin. “And I don’t even care. I love this woman, and there’s nothing you can say to embarrass me. I want her to know I’d do anything to make her feel special.”
“Damn. I hope I don’t ever fall like you,” Brackish said with a bit of horror.
“You might be next,” Eyes said. “With the way you’ve been carrying on about the waitress and all.”
“I just think she’s hot. But it isn’t as if I’ve had any time to pursue her lately. For all I know she’s been swept up in the past month while you’ve kept me on missions.”
“Ha. You’ve been spying on the diner so we all know she’s still very available,” Smoke said with a laugh.
Brackish didn’t respond. Eyes had a feeling the team was right. Brackish seemed mesmerized already, and he’d only interacted with the woman one time so far. He had a feeling that was changing real soon.
“Okay, Brackish is playing the music, Eyes and Smoke are bringing in the blanket, picnic basket, wine, flowers, and umbrella, and Smoke is lighting the fire. Then Green is dropping the rose petals, and waiting to spark the fireworks. We all have our mission. Let’s get down there and go over it until we know we’re a well-oiled machine. I don’t want a single thing to go wrong,” Sleep said.
“I still think she’ll say no,” Smoke said as he stood.
“Want to take bets?” Green asked.
“Nah, I’d feel bad when Sleep is heartbroken,” Smoke said.
“True,” Brackish said.
The men continued ribbing each other as they walked out of their top-secret quarters. This was one mission they were not only eager to begin, but excited to execute. They might be losing their brother, but it was in the best way possible. They were losing him to a woman who loved him. They still had him as their brother-in-arms.
“Let the mission begin,” Eyes said.
They jumped into their vehicles, and they were off . . . This was definitely the best mission any of them had ever had.
Chapter One
Steve Bregon had been called Brackish for so long that sometimes it was odd for him to be called by his actual name. He could switch back and forth, but once in a while it took him a few seconds. He even thought of himself as Brackish when he was stuck in his own mind.
He’d been involved with the military, or military type operations since he was barely out of high school, and in that time he’d worked with some of the most intelligent individuals on earth. No one could call him a humble man, but there was a reason for that. He was a tech god, and he’d created and written more backend network code over the past week than most men in the field did in a lifetime.
Brackish knew who he was and how good he was at his job, and because of that he was so confident he’d often post on forums, anonymously of course, and offer ridiculous sums of money for anyone who could break one of his codes. Only once had one of his codes been broken, and that was in the beginning of his lifelong career. Since then he’d acquired underground fame as many in his world had tried figuring out who he was and how he did what he did. To this day they didn’t have a clue. He was damn proud of that.
Because Brackish was as good as he was, Chad was able to send the men secure texts, alerting them when they needed to come in, when something on a mission was changing, and keeping them updated on day to day operations. They didn’t always meet at their headquarters, but they didn’t go a day without speaking to one another. There was too much to do for them to let time pass. For the first time in weeks the entire team was together in their secure location. Often at least one or two of them were on location and they couldn’t all come together.
In his first week in the secret compound Brackish had secured the premises tighter than Fort Knox. Their phones were protected, but beyond that, anything electrical had multi-level fail-safes. If something was connected to any type of network, it was encrypted beyond any hacker’s ability.
Brackish sat back at the table as the men chatted while waiting for Chad to begin the meeting, smiling at a job well done. Monitors filled the room, live streams of video from around Seattle and surrounding cities circulated while monitors buzzed, and printers quietly spit out reports. This was all done without them having to push buttons — while they slept, while they ate, while they played, and of course, while they worked.
“I hope you guys got your beauty sleep, because the next few weeks are going to either be heaven or hell, depending on your performance,” Chad said as his official start to the meeting.
“We’re already beautiful and don’t need any sleep,” Smoke said.
Smoke was named for his ability to get in and out of locations without anyone knowing he was ever there. The man had superhuman speed, and that was saying something because he was large. But he knew how to move in the shadows, and he was essential to their success on every mission.
“You only think you’re pretty,” Chad said with a roll of his eyes that had Brackish smiling. “But in reality, you’re old and worn.”
“Speak for yourself, Chug,” Eyes said. They’d named Chad Chug because he slammed down more coffee than a fleet of truck drivers on a snowy winter night.
Chad had been a SEAL and then moved on in his life. He had no regrets of where he’d been or where he was now. He was a very happy man who had experienced more in life than most could ever hope for. He had many more years to go, and a lot more adventures to experience. This team was giving him a new mission he was more than happy with.
“Our operation starts tonight. How are the vehicles?” Chad asked. He was used to his name now and didn’t even blink.
Brackish sat up, his cocky grin in place. “Along with all of the usual cool things like hidden cameras, microphones, updated Bluetooth, and wireless connectivity, which is kid’s stuff, I’ve added some tasty little treats,” he began. “Infra-red lights have been embedded in the front and back window trim giving us a steady low-level glow when the vehicle is shut down, and a strobe pattern when turned on. Just for fun we also have multiple tracker beacons for the drones to lock onto. Those drones will continually relay info to the conference room and all of you unlucky enough to be missing out on the action will be able to watch it live.”
“Wouldn’t that be you sitting here?” Green pointed out.
“Not always. This operation is so smooth, I can leave even the youngest behind to keep an eye on things while the big boys do all of the hard work,” Brackish said.
Green was the youngest member of the team, but he was absolutely brilliant, and they might tease him for his age, but they knew his knowledge and skills were invaluable. The man had done more in h
is short life than a hundred men put together.
“Don’t knock the young. We get more done in a shorter amount of time, without the aches and pains of the old,” Green said.
“Okay, maybe we can get back to work,” Chad said. Once the men got on a roll it could go on for hours. They were lucky to have Chad running the organization because they not only respected him, but he knew when to sit back and listen and when to call things to order. He and Eyes were the leaders of their group. Chad was the top dog of the operation center, and Eyes was the leader of the team. It worked for all of them.
“I don’t need to remind you guys, but I’ll say it anyway. Our operation tonight is incredibly technical. Green and Sleep are going to be working in the restaurant as servers.”
“Servers? Joy,” Sleep said with a sigh. Chad gave him a look that had him bowing his head.
“Eyes will be a patron eating alone, sitting at table three.” The screen in front of them lit up and Chad used a laser pointer to identify the table on a live shot of the restaurant.
“The staff believe you’re real hires. They know nothing of the double operation, so you have to stay within your roles.” He looked at each person and they each nodded.
“Our suspect is Jorge, this man here,” he said as a picture of the man in question popped onto the screen. “A very fast-acting laxative will be in Jorge’s second drink. Within ten minutes he’ll be up and running to the bathroom. From surveillance we know his second-in-command will check the facility first to ensure no one’s in there. When he’s inside and alone, the real fun begins.” Chad smiled, a look in his eyes very few people ever saw.
“Hell yeah,” Smoke chimed in.
Eyes took over where Chad had ended. “Green will give the signal once Jorge is off to the bathroom. Smoke will enter the restaurant as a bad actor who’s drunk, and he’ll instantly get belligerent with me. Once Smoke starts a fight, we’re going to have the chaos pushed straight at Jorge’s table. They will be armed — and we will neutralize them.”
“Piece of cake,” Green said.
“While we’re at Jorge’s table, Brackish will be slipping in through the back door. He and Sleep will take control of the package. He’ll be subdued and in the van before anyone has a clue anything other than a drunken fight is going on. Brackish will exit with the package while Sleep slips back inside the dining room and merges with Green to break up the fight.”
Each man nodded, confident in their rolls. A light in their eyes showed their excitement for their first fully joint operation. There was no doubt they’d pull it off even if complications occurred which could easily happen when civilians were present.
“Let’s fine tune,” Chad said.
In unison they leaned into the table, memorizing the floor plan of the restaurant, studying the live camera to see how the patrons moved about, and talking among themselves for alternatives should any of the players do something unexpected. By the time they left the bunker no stone was left unturned.
They parked their van close by and sat inside as they surveyed people coming and going from the restaurant. At 1800 hours they moved into position. Then Brackish sat back in the van, his heart steady, his body on alert, and his mind clear.
At 2000 hours a group of twelve walked inside the exclusive, small restaurant, their target in the middle, letting his family and colleagues shield him from any possible danger. He was a coward, a thief, and an all-around despicable human being. To this man, all human life, other than his own, was expendable — even the life of his wife of thirteen years.
The group had obviously dined at this place before because they strode inside, barely nodding at the hostess before moving to a center table that was set and ready. Eleven of the twelve members sat, while the last, a large man with steely eyes and massive muscles, checked out the other tables. Only a few had occupants — the others sat empty.
When Jorge had made the reservation, he’d wanted the entire diner to himself, but as some of the seats had already been reserved, the restaurant apologized profusely, but couldn’t deny their loyal customers who held advanced reservations.
The obvious bodyguard didn’t seem to deem any of the diners or the waitstaff a threat, so he leaned against a wall, keeping his eyes on the activity, but mostly seeming relaxed. Sleep stepped up to the table, keeping his eyes down as he delivered bread and olive oil, and filled water glasses.
Green stepped up as he finished. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Larry and I will be your servers tonight. I’ve been told this is a special occasion,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Yes, yes it’s a very special night,” Jorge said with a flick of his hand. He didn’t meet Green’s eyes, feeling the waiter way below his social status with no need to be polite or inclusive. That worked for the team. They were unseen to these people, just as they were in many missions, just as they wanted it to be. “It’s my beautiful wife’s birthday and she loves this little place. Anything she wants she gets, and this is where she wants to eat.”
“Happy birthday. I hope we help to make it special,” Green said.
“Thank you,” Jorge’s wife said, her smile bright as she looked Green directly in the eyes. She hadn’t been hardened by life like the rest of this group of thugs. There was purity in her eyes that shocked Green — and not much did that these days. The team didn’t know how involved the wife was in all of this, but from first impressions, Green was thinking she knew nothing of the underworld her husband and his thugs were a part of.
Green proceeded as any other waiter would in the next twenty minutes, taking orders, delivering drinks and appetizers, and offering friendly words that didn’t interrupt the groups conversation. He bided his time before the first part of the mission truly began. And right from the start, they had a problem.
The first operational hiccup came when Jorge purchased three bottles of a 2016 Domaine Romanee Conti La Tache in the 750ml bottle. The restaurant price for a single bottle was eighty-five hundred dollars. The problem was that the bottles would stay at the table.
The team, however, were more than capable of adapting to changes. It would take some work, and a very careful sleight of hand, but Green would get the needed liquid into Jorge’s glass.
As the evening progressed with the staff preparing Michelin-star food, the group became more relaxed with stories flowing and levity at a high. Even Muscleman, who hadn’t moved from his position against the wall, grew more relaxed, especially as one of the tables of diners finished and exited.
Green moved up to the table as the appetizers dwindled. “May I refill any drinks?” he asked. Several of the people nodded as they moved their glasses to the edge of the table.
“There’s no need to ask. If my glass is nearing empty, keep on filling it,” Jorge said with a smug smile, still not meeting Green’s eyes. Lucky for their team Jorge truly felt he was a king and liked his humble servants waiting on him.
“Of course, sir,” Green replied, keeping his expression neutral. He had a vile taped to his palm as he lifted the wine bottle and filled Jorge’s glass with the liquid dripping into the glass unnoticed. He then slipped the vile into his apron pocket before continuing around the table to fill the rest of the diner’s glasses.
On cue, the appetizer plates were taken away, and soups and salads were placed in front of each person as the conversation continued, no one suspicious of anything. Green didn’t even blink when Jorge next spoke.
“Server,” Jorge called across the room, making Green turn. “Where’s the bathroom?” The urgency in the man’s tone let the team know their plans were on track. Jorge stood and Muscleman came to attention.
“It’s at the back of the restaurant to the right,” Green said while slipping a hand inside his pocket and clicking a key fob with a single button on it. That push caused a miniature EMP that cut off all life to the cell phones in the room.
“Stay,” Jorge said to Muscleman, who looked unhappy to let his boss go into another room before he clear
ed it, but had been trained well and didn’t argue.
Perfectly synchronized, as soon as Jorge rounded the corner to the bathroom, Smoke stepped through the front doors of the restaurant. His clothes were stained and torn, his pants too short, and his shirt three sizes too big. Even his shoes didn’t match. His makeup had aged him at least fifteen years — making him appear the perfect homeless drunk.
Smoke staggered over to Eyes’s table and mumbled several incoherent words as he begged for spare change and some food. Eyes didn’t turn to acknowledge Smoke as he took another bite of his pasta primavera.
“Hey man, I just need a little food,” Smoke cried out more clearly.
Eyes didn’t reply.
The table in the middle of the restaurant had gone utterly silent as they gaped at the homeless man harassing a patron. They most likely had never seen something like that before while they were eating in their five-star dining locations.
Smoke reached out and tapped Eyes on the shoulder. Eyes barely turned, giving Smoke a dismissive glance. “Don’t bother me. Be on your way.” He then turned forward again and took another bite of food.
Brackish watched the scene unfold just as they’d planned, getting ready to jump into action. The people at Jorge’s table were horrified and fascinated all at the same time, but seemed unafraid with their bodyguard on alert. Another couple in a far corner of the restaurant were pushing themselves against the wall as if they might catch something foul from the dirty man who’d gone to one table far too close to theirs.
Muscleman obviously looked as if he didn’t want to deal with the pest of a man, but was probably weighing his options of whether he’d have to get his hands dirty. If the man approached Jorge’s group, the bodyguard would be left with no choice but to lay his hands on the dirty creature.
Right on cue Smoke grabbed hold of Eyes, pulling him backward, causing Eyes to hit the floor just as Green walked into the room, immediately heading toward Smoke and Eyes with a properly horrified look in his eyes.
