by Desiree Holt
He also apparently knew everyone in the United States who flew anything that could get on the ground. One of his contacts had helped make arrangements for them to set the bird down at a very small private airfield. That’s where they’d analyze the information and finalize their plan.
Through the magnification viewfinder on the camera he was holding, Troy took in every detail of the landscape below him. The house looked almost exactly as Kat had drawn it, an edifice to Olberman’s ego. It sat amid meticulously landscaped grounds, surrounded on all sides by forest. Even the driveway leading up to it cut through pristine forested land, not emerging until it was almost at the house.
He could tell there was a perimeter wall, but Mark would get that, as well as identify any places they could rappel in and ghost their way to the house. They had a great little gizmo that read heat signatures, pinpointing the location of live bodies. But they needed to be on the ground to do that. It wouldn’t work this high up and so far away.
Ed made one careful pass, then zoomed away. Part of the plan depended on not hanging around in the air long enough to arouse anyone’s curiosity. Ten minutes later they were on the ground at a well-designed little airfield. The runway was long enough for an executive jet, which was either in the air or in the hangar sitting off to the side.
As soon as Ed shut down the rotors, a side door in the hangar opened and a short, compact man in jeans and an old flight jacket headed out toward them. Ed exited the bird, jumping down to the ground and held out his hand to the man.
“Ed Romeo,” he introduced himself. “You must be Charlie Wakefield, Hy’s brother.”
The man nodded. “Hy told me not to ask questions and as far as anyone else is concerned, you’ve never been here.”
“You got it. Thanks a lot for letting us use the facility.”
Charlie grinned. “Are you kidding? Just wondering what’s going on makes my day. Come on into the hangar. I’ve got a big table you can use and I put on a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Thanks,” Ed told him. “A lot.”
“I might need you one of these days. Listen, Hy just gave me a sketch of where you’ll be flying. There’s not much traffic in that airspace but just to give you some camouflage, a few of my buddies are doing some flight time in their choppers for the next couple of hours. You can get lost in them.”
“I owe you big. You can collect any time.”
“I’m gonna take a short run to my house for a while. Let me give you my cell number. You can call me when you get ready to leave, so I can come back and lock up.”
“That’s a pretty tight fraternity you belong to,” Dan said as they all walked toward the hangar.
“We all run into dicey situations now and then. We’ve learned to rely on each other.”
“Please thank him for us.” He opened the door to the hangar. “Okay, everyone. Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty.”
They spent the better part of an hour going over every detail and reviewing the video from the cameras.
“Whatever electronic security they’ve got, we can put it out of commission,” Mike said. “You know that to get from point to point, base to site, all systems have to work on radio waves. Something as high-end as this system is bound to be is usually impervious to interference. But…”
“Yeah, but,” Rick grinned. “I’m real glad we did that favor for that engineer. He says the baby we’ve got now will jam every possible signal set to transmit to the base inside the house.”
Troy reran the video to a spot he wanted, then slowed it down to frame by frame.
“Here’s the best spot for us to make our landing. For one thing, there’s a small natural clearing here, so Ed can get down low enough for us to exit the bird. For another, it’s far enough away from the house that we won’t be seen. And Ed’s friend promised us enough cover with some choppers doing some recreational hours, so we won’t stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Just to refresh everyone’s memory,” Dan picked up, “the moment Ed gets us low enough, we’ll turn on the jammer. Once we’re on the ground, I’ll carry it in my pack and keep it on.”
“Mike and I will carry the readers for heat signatures,” Rick added, “and be able to pinpoint where the bodies are. Everyone knows what to do after that.” He turned to Troy. “We’re going to locate exactly where Lauren is. When we do, we put the rest of the plan into action and go in and get her. You’ll hold it together, right?”
As best I can.
“No worries. I know what to do.”
“Okay then.” Mike turned to his brother. “Ed, call your friend and tell him thanks for the hospitality. Everyone else, let’s get our firepower and the C-4 and test our mics. Come on, guys. Let’s roll.”
* * * * *
Olberman disconnected his call and took out one of his ever-present cigars, clipped the end and rolled it in his fingers. The conversation with the island’s ruler had gone extremely well. The man had not quibbled about the price.
“Twelve million is little enough to pay for someone who can save my son’s life,” he told Olberman.
“I’ll call you back to arrange a definite arrival time. I’ll check flying time with my pilot, but it will be sometime tomorrow.”
“Excellent. I’ll eagerly await your call.”
Now Olberman swiveled to look through the window at his favorite vista. As he did so, something in the sky caught his eye. A tiny black dot, moving swiftly from east to west. Picking up the handheld he used to communicate with his security personnel, he punched a button. He wished Reid was here to oversee things for the moment but he’d had another major assignment for him. But Greg Deluca was almost as good.
“Yes, Mr. Olberman?” Deluca answered.
“What’s that speck I caught sight of in the sky? Anything I should worry about?”
“No sir. I spotted it too and called the local tower. There’s some kind of club for chopper pilots out of Grand Junction. They requested permission to get some practice hours in today and the air controller gave it to them. That was probably one of them flying into the field where they gather.”
“I don’t like it,” Olberman growled.
“Not much we can do about it, boss. They won’t classify us as restricted airspace without a damn good reason.”
“I need to put some pressure on some of those senators whose campaigns I fund.” He sighed. “All right. Just keep an eye out for things and let me know when they’re done cluttering up my sky.”
Setting the little communicator on his desk, he pressed the intercom button to summon Vivian.
She knocked briefly and entered. “You need me for something?”
“Just checking on how our house guest is doing.”
Vivian’s lips twisted in a gesture of distaste. “The kitchen said she ate part of her breakfast. She’s a snippy little thing, isn’t she?”
Olberman smiled. “I like people with spirit.” The smile disappeared. “As long as she’s compliant and goes along with the program.”
“I’ll do my best to help make that happen,” Vivian assured him. “But you know with human nature, there are no guarantees.”
“Why don’t you have the men watching her parents and her brother and his family send along some photos to me? Maybe that will convince her I’m serious.”
“I’ll call them at once.”
When she had left to return to her desk, Olberman inhaled the aroma of the cigar and closed his eyes. The little bitch had damn well better do what he told her. He didn’t take kindly to failure.
Chapter Sixteen
The first part of the plan went off like clockwork. Ed managed to get them lost in the patterns the other helicopters were running until they reached the landing zone. Ed hovered briefly while the men tossed out their gear, then jumped to the forest floor. Ed was gone the moment the last man was out.
Bending low to avoid the backwash from the rotors, they checked their packs, their firepower, their ammo and the special equipment they ca
rried with them. Each man had his handgun and also carried a Larue Tactical Predator rifle with two additional bands of ammo strapped across his chest. Added to this were KA-BAR tactical knives, packets of C-4 explosives and tiny detonators with remote signal switches. And finally, every man had flash-bang grenades to blind and distract the enemy if necessary.
Dressed all in black, they moved silently through the trees, the box in Dan’s pack effectively jamming any signal along the way. Every so often they stopped, listening for any disturbance in the air, checking for the presence of human security the way they had in the military. When they caught sight of the house through the trees, Dan held up his hand for everyone to stop.
“Heat signatures,” he whispered into his lip mic.
Troy waited, barely reining in his patience, for the information.
“Four on the first floor,” Rick whispered. “Inside. Four more on the perimeter of the house. Those are the ones Kat saw.”
“Two in front and two in back,” Mike added. “Three more on the second floor. Two on the left and one on the far right.”
“The single one has to be Lauren.” Troy took a deep breath to settle himself. He’d be no help to Lauren if he let his anxiety and impatience overrule the habits of long training.
“Lower heat signatures on the move,” Rick reported.
“Four outside bodies fanning out,” Mike confirmed in the same whisper. He lifted binoculars to his eyes. “All fully loaded.” A pause. “Assault rifles, guys.”
“Two now in a moving vehicle.” Rick again. “It’s an ATV. Everyone, heads up.”
“Move out as planned,” came the word from Dan. “Troy, we’ll get you the distraction you need, so get moving.”
Troy began edging toward the open expanse of lawn on the side of the house with the single heat signature. Shutting out everything else, slowing his heart rate and his breathing, he focused on his sole objective, Lauren.
“What the fuck is going on?” Olberman smacked his hand on his desktop. The security monitor that he’d insisted be set up in his office, along with the central one downstairs, had suddenly lost its picture. The screen was filled with snow instead of images.
“Vivian,” he shouted. “Get in here.”
“I’m here, Mr. Olberman.” She stood in the doorway. “We have a problem.”
At that moment the communicator on his desk squawked at him. “Mr. Olberman? It’s Keith, at the back of the house.”
“What’s happening out there?” he demanded. “Why is the fucking security system off-line?”
“Two of the men are heading out to check the perimeter right now,” Keith assured him. “I’m on my way to look at the main box. I’m sure it’s just a malfunction.”
“The company that sold it to me promised there’d be no glitches,” Olberman raged. “I want answers now. We’d better still be secure.”
“We’re fine.” Keith’s tone was even, unaffected by Olberman’s anger. “Like I said, just a little hiccup. We’re riding the fence only as a precaution. You know this place is impossible to breach.”
“I know nothing’s impossible, you idiot. I want answers right now. Maybe I need to come down there.”
“No.” Keith’s voice was firm. “Please. Stay right where you are. We’ve got this under control.”
But at that moment he heard a loud explosion and the air beyond his window shimmered with the vibrations.
“God damn it.”
Troy waited silently behind a tiny but thick grouping of trees as the ATV made its way along the fence line. They’d spotted the cameras in the trees but Dan’s handy electronic gizmo had taken them offline. At the point where the stone fence changed to barbed wire, Mike stepped from behind a tree, aimed a dart gun at the two men and took both of them down. The tranquilizer darts would keep them unconscious until police could be called for a cleanup operation.
“Two bogies down,” Mike whispered
Troy moved over to the fence and in a crouch followed it toward the open area where the house sat.
“Lots of movement inside and out.” Dan’s voice, barely audible.
“What about on the second floor?” Troy had to ask.
“Still the same. Everyone forward. Institute phase two.”
As they reached the clearing, four of the men tossed flash-bangs toward the house. The explosions blended one with the other and produced an enormous flash of light and blinding smoke. As his partners moved forward, ready to take out anyone who got in their way, Troy raced for the spot on the ground beneath the window where they were sure Lauren was being held.
He heard shouts and some shots being fired, but he had only one thing to focus on. Balancing himself on the balls of his feet, he grabbed a climbing anchor and rope from his pack, tossed the anchor up until it locked on the balcony railing and shimmied up in seconds. Without waiting to knock, he smashed through the French doors.
A startled and very frightened Lauren backed away from him, staring. He knew what she saw—a stranger dressed all in black and armed to the teeth.
“It’s me, sugar. Troy.” He held out his hand to her. “Come on. We have to make tracks.”
“Troy?” her eyes widened.
“Yes. Hurry. We don’t have much time.”
Recognizing his voice, she hurried over to him. “Oh my god. Troy.” She threw her arms around his neck.
“Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on tight. The ride’s not over yet.”
When he stepped back out onto the balcony with her, he spotted a man below aiming an assault rifle at them. He took a step back, about to shift Lauren and aim his rifle, when he heard the rapid report that was distinctive to the LaRue Tactical Predator. A quick glance showed him the man down, along with three others scattered over the lawn.
He switched his mic to the frequency Ed was monitoring.
“We’re down and on our way. Get here now.”
With one arm around Lauren, he slid quickly down the rope, thanking his tours in Iraq for teaching him to do this under the worst circumstances. As they landed, two more flash-bangs went off to his right.
Then Mark’s voice in his ear startled him.
“Bogie behind you and to your left. I have him in my sight but—”
Just as he said that, Troy felt something bite into the soft flesh under the arm holding the rope. His grip loosened, and they slid the rest of the way down. It hurt like a sonofabitch but as he’d done other times, he gritted his teeth, set Lauren down and grabbed her hand.
“You’re hit.” She held tightly to his hand.
“I’m good,” he insisted, forcing back the nausea that surged up. The bastard had hit his armpit, where the shield didn’t protect him. He knew he was bleeding, but he had to get Lauren out of here. He heard shots behind him and hoped they were his partners and not the bad guys. Ducking his head, he raced toward the trees, his hand holding tightly to Lauren’s smaller one as he pulled her along with him.
Behind him he heard more shots, but he didn’t dare stop to see who was hit. His primary responsibility was to get Lauren to the clearing so Ed could pick her up. Just as they reached the cleared space, the helo flared out above them, leaves blown everywhere, slender trees bending with the force of the wind.
Steeling himself against the pain, he lifted Lauren in his arms and practically threw her into the bird’s cabin.
“Go, go, go,” he shouted to Ed.
“No,” she screamed. “You come with me. You’re wounded. Troy, you’re bleeding badly.”
But Ed was already lifting off.
Once the helicopter was away, Troy leaned against a tree, fighting the blackness rolling over him. He’d done this before. He could do it again. Dan met him as he broke into the clearing.
“Christ, Troy. You’re bleeding like a butchered pig.”
“Everyone else okay?” he gasped.
“Yes. We dragged those wounded but still alive over to the fence.”
Rick was just coming down the stairs w
ith Kurt Olberman in front of him, hands cuffed behind his back. Troy could hear him cursing a blue streak.
“You bastards fucked with the wrong person this time,” Olberman spat.
“No, that would be your problem,” Mark said. He looked at Rick. “Everyone else out?”
Rick nodded. “I’m taking him out to the gatehouse, where his assistant is already trussed up. She swears almost as well as he does. Olberman will be joining her in a minute. Then it’s one last bang, and we’re out of here. I’ll wait until then to make the call to the feds and tell them we left them a prize package.”
“You’re dead men,” Olberman continued to shout as Rick practically dragged him through the front door. “I’ll see you in hell.”
“You first,” Troy muttered.
The last thing they did was race through the main building, planting C-4 in all the key spots. Dan took Troy’s plastic explosive from him as well as the detonator. They’d already decided it was too dangerous to leave all of Olberman’s records for some other vicious human being to find.
“The feds would love to get their hands on his information,” Dan had said, “but we can’t take a chance that someone else will. This is the best way.”
Mark and Rick half-carried Troy over to the helipad. With Olberman down, Ed could land on the concrete pad. Dan made the call, and in less than a minute, Troy heard the sound of the rotors. Then the bird came into view, flared out and set down. Moments later, they were all on board and Ed lifted away.
When they were high enough Dan looked at them all and nodded. Immediately, all the remotes were pressed and in a blast that reverberated in the air and shook the ground, Kurt Olberman’s kingdom exploded into a gigantic pile of rubble.
Lauren crawled over to Troy. “Mark?” She looked at her friend. “How bad is it?”
“He’ll be fine,” Mark assured her.
But they were busy getting Troy out of his shirt and armor and packing the wound from a first-aid kit. Dan pulled a long strip of cloth out of the kit and bound it tightly over the packing.
Lauren clutched his hand in both of hers.
