by Matt Lincoln
“It’s Warner,” I snapped. “Stupid or not, we are doing this.”
Farr gave me a pained look. “Yeah, I know. It’s still stupid.” He glanced over at Bonnie. “Can we glean any information off that tracker?”
“Well, he’s alive,” Bonnie offered. “Heart rate is a bit high, probably because he is panicking. I can’t really blame him. He’s still in the building, too. I’m not sure what floor, but I know he is in the southwest corner.”
Farr shrugged. “Well, we have that going for us, at least.” He looked over at Header and me. “My guys are in the area. They’re mostly ex-military. They have firearms training, and they know the mission. They’re staying put until I call them in.”
I nodded curtly. “When are we going in?”
Farr sat back. “It’s your call. I’m staying out here.”
“Out here?” Header sounded surprised.
“Yes.” Farr grimaced. “I’m too old to be doing this crap. Besides, someone needs to stay out here with Bonnie.” He offered her a more genuine smile as he lifted the corner of his shirt to reveal a holstered sidearm. “I may be getting old, but I’m still a hell of a shot.”
Bonnie grinned appreciatively at him. “Thank you. I was a bit concerned about being left out here on my own.”
“Yeah, at the very least, I’m the more attractive target,” Farr offered. “They should all know who I am, and they’ll want to come after me first. That’ll buy you time to get out of here. Drive as fast as you can back to Brooklyn. We’ll get ourselves back.”
Bonnie gulped and nodded. I hadn’t seen Farr take an active role in the field since my days in the SEALs, and for his sake, I hope that wouldn’t change today.
“Well, we aren’t doing any good by waiting,” Header pointed out. “What do you think, Marston?”
I sat back and looked over at Header. I recognized the look in his darkening eyes. He was ready for this mission, and he was locked in on our goal.
“You read my mind, brother,” I assured him. “Farr, make the call.”
Farr pulled out his phone and quickly dialed a number before bringing the phone to his ear.
“We don’t know what floor he is on,” Farr said into the phone, “but we know he is in the southwest corner of the building. You already know what he looks like. We go in three minutes.”
Farr clicked his phone shut and looked at Header and me. “Start the countdown. They’re heading our way.”
I checked my watch so that I could keep track of the time, and then I sat back against the seat. I was armed and ready, except for the body armor. In hindsight, we could have thrown our body armor in the back of the SUV before we left, but none of us had anticipated a drive out to Queens. Beside me, Header checked his sidearm and his watch. We sat in complete silence as the minutes ticked by.
Out through the windshield, I spotted the occasional person pass by. They all seemed to be on their own, but I noticed a few things they had in common. They were all dressed in dark clothing and looked to be in great shape, but most importantly, every one of them had an all-too-familiar expression on their faces. It was the same expression I’d just seen on Header. They were Farr’s team.
As the three-minute mark approached, I turned back to Farr.
“We’re ready,” I reminded him. He nodded in acknowledgment.
“They should be clearing the way for you,” he advised. “You should go now.”
“Here.” Bonnie fumbled through a bag and handed a small box to each of us. “Earpieces. So we can communicate.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, jamming mine into my ear as Header did the same. I turned back one last time to look at Farr. “Keep Bonnie safe.”
“Go,” Farr warned, but he stole a glance toward Bonnie as his hand drifted toward his holster, and I knew he would do everything in his power to protect her.
Header and I both hopped out of the SUV and began making our way back around to the front of the building. It was eerily quiet out for the middle of the day, although considering we were surrounded by warehouses and storage units, I supposed that was to be expected. As we approached the entrance, we saw two armed men that had to belong to Farr slip inside. I unholstered my pistol and held it before me in both hands as I took the lead, inching up to the edge of the doorway and peering inside. I pulled back and chuckled to myself as Header searched my face for an explanation. I waved him forward so he could take a peek.
Header slid past me for a moment to glance inside and see what had made me laugh. He had his own sidearm unholstered, but his stance relaxed once he got a good look. When he stepped back behind me, he let out a chuckle of his own.
“Farr knows how to request backup,” he joked.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I agreed. “You ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
I stepped over the threshold and took in my surroundings, my pistol at the ready just in case something surprised is. The glass front doors had shattered and rained down to the ground, and the sunlight overhead reflected off the myriad pieces to create a mesmerizing rainbow of color on the tile floor. Beyond that, several bodies lay prone on the ground. Farr’s men must have snuck up behind them and offered a blow to the backs of each of their heads.
Header stepped around me and picked up an expandable baton that one of the security guards must have dropped. He quickly shoved it into his waistband and resumed his grip on his gun.
We were in a fairly nondescript lobby. The linoleum floors were a flat gray color, and the air felt stale and stagnant. There was a front desk that looked to be made of some type of cheap wood composite, complete with chips and dents from years of misuse. Along the far wall was a wall of elevators, and off to one side was a door that I presumed led to a stairwell. Header walked over and peered through the small rectangular window of the door and then turned to me with a curt nod.
“Stairs,” he murmured as quietly as he could. I lowered my arms and scanned the space as he joined me in the center of the lobby.
“How do we search? The southwest corner would be opposite the stairwell.” Header gestured toward the blank wall before us.
“One floor at a time?” I asked. “Stairs or elevator?”
“Neither one seems ideal,” he muttered. “The stairs will prevent our arrival from being announced in advance, even though we also risk being trapped from both sides.”
“Stairs it is, then,” I nodded. As we quickly and quietly worked our way over to the stairwell, I heard Bonnie’s voice in my ear.
“First five floors are clear,” she announced. “No sign of Warner.”
I grabbed onto the door handle and hesitated. “How many floors are in this building?”
“Sixteen,” she responded.
“We’ll start at the top and work our way down,” Header informed her. I nodded in agreement. As much as I wasn’t a fan of working our way all the way up the building, I had a sneaking suspicion that’s where we would find Warner.
The climb was mostly uneventful. There were a few run-ins with some of Farr’s men as they worked their way up the floors, but once we passed the eighth floor, the activity died down, and we were on our own. When we reached the sixteenth floor, I looked back and locked eyes with Header, and he stepped up behind me, ready to go.
I peered through the window, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. A blank white wall faced me, and as I craned my neck, I could see the beginning of a hallway lined with plain white doors. I readied my pistol and opened the door, clearing the hall before waving Header in behind me. Although I was confident that Header and I were on the same page, I made use of a few hand gestures to communicate my plan, anyway. I wanted to bypass all of the doors and head straight to the far end of the hall, to the southwest corner. Header nodded quickly, jutting his chin toward the hall as if to urge me forward.
We quietly worked our way toward the end of the hall, and I heard voices as we approached. The last door was ajar, and the men inside were speaking urgently and angr
ily. All the voices were heavy with New York accents.
“There are a lot of people pouring in through the front doors,” a gruff voice argued. “How long do you think we have?”
“What do you propose we do, kill him?” a younger snappy voice retorted. “Boss won’t be happy about that.”
“We need to get him out of here.” This voice was deep and angry. “Take him to the roof. I’ll call for a ride.”
“Oh, yeah, because the helicopter won’t give our position away,” the first voice spat.
“Well, do you have any other ideas?”
Header and I looked at each other as we hugged the wall. I held up three fingers as we listened to them argue, and Header nodded in agreement. There were three voices, which meant there would be three men. Hopefully, there would be no additional surprises when we rounded the corner. I started the countdown with Header, and once my last finger had dropped down to my palm, I grasped my pistol with both hands and rounded the corner.
The first thing I noticed was Warner. He was sitting on a broken stool in the center of what looked like a well-stocked storage locker with his hands tied behind his back and an angry scowl on his face. When he locked eyes with me, though, I recognized a flicker of fear. The terror would explain his heightened heart rate, but the anger was a nice cover.
A bullet whizzed past my ear, and I pulled back as quickly as I could. I heard Header grunt beside me as he did the same. We pressed ourselves against the wall on either side of the doorway as we both reevaluated the situation.
The three men that had been arguing had been standing in the center of the room, but none of them had been armed. They had all turned to face us when we barged in, their eyes lit up with fury as they registered our presence, but the shot had come from the front corner of the room. Header had the better vantage point, and he recovered quickly, whipping back around to shoot into the corner. I heard the round hit its target as a second shooter came into view. I had only a split second to respond, and pressed the trigger quickly, sending him down to the ground. Without knowing how many others were in the room, and not wanting Warner to get hurt in the crossfire, Header and I both maintained our positions outside the door. I quickly assessed the situation to try to find the best way to handle it.
“We know you aren’t alone,” the gruff voice announced. “We also know that you won’t keep us here. Our ride is on the way.”
“Yeah, the helicopter,” Header snarked. “We know. It’s very incognito.”
The man chuckled humorlessly. “It gets the job done.”
“We don’t want you, you know,” Header continued. “We just want our friend.”
“I think you want a bit more than that,” the man argued loudly. “We don’t like being threatened. We won’t stand for it. You’re on our turf now. You’ll never survive this.”
“He’s stalling,” I whispered under my breath.
“Of course he’s stalling,” Header replied loudly enough for the men to hear. “Aren’t you paying attention? He’s waiting for a ride.”
His pointed look in my direction told me that Header was stalling, too. I recapped everything that had happened so far. With the number of men patrolling the halls down below and how quickly they were working, it was only a matter of time before we had help.
“I am waiting for a ride,” the man snarked. “I’m also waiting for these two bastards to get the hell up off the ground.”
I groaned. The room had been dark, so I hadn’t been sure, but the man’s statement confirmed my suspicions. The shooters had the body armor that Header and I didn’t. If we gave them enough time to get back on their feet, then we would be in danger of getting shot at again. The fact that we weren’t currently getting shot at indicated that the three men only had two shooters with them. There were five of them and two of us. We could easily take them if we disarmed them.
I locked eyes with Header, and he beamed back at me. Damn, I missed working with him. It was easy to forget how seamless we worked together sometimes.
This time, Header counted down, and we both whipped into the doorway to face our adversaries. The two gunmen happened to be attempting to get back on their feet, so it was easy to disarm them. I ran over to the man I had shot, and spotting his pistol abandoned on the floor, I kicked it into the dusty corner and out of his immediate reach.
He saw it coming though, and quickly shot an arm into the backs of my knees, causing them to buckle. One of the men who had been arguing sent a scrawny elbow down onto my arm while the gunman yanked down onto my other arm, breaking my tight grip onto my pistol. I knew I was too close to use it properly, and I risked losing it unless I did something drastic. I tried to twist away, but the gunman reached up a second hand.
The last thing I wanted was to give up my firearm to the enemy, so I jerked my hand sideways, sending the loose pistol skittering across the floor into the dark. The gunman lunged for it, but I sent a boot down into his lower back. I was rewarded with an elbow into my own back. It sent shockwaves of pain up my spine, but I dug my boot in further and sent my elbow hurtling out to the side. It jabbed into the space between the other man’s lower ribs.
I hadn’t expected such great results, but the man was thin as a rail, so he didn’t have much cushion to protect him. He roared in pain and clutched his side before sending a fist hurtling toward my jaw. I dove out of the way, but he still glanced off my chin, sending my teeth clattering in my mouth. It also caused me to stumble enough to loosen my hold on the gunman, and he began army-crawling toward the corner.
I grabbed him by the ankle and hauled him backward across the dusty floor, but a solid knock to the back of my head sent me tumbling forward. I silently thanked the scrawny guy as I stumbled over the top of the gunman’s body toward the dark corner. A glint of metal caught my eye, and I allowed myself to stumble down toward it. I felt a firm grip on my ankle, but it was too late. My fingers wrapped around the grip, and I swung around with the barrel of my own gun pointed right at Scrawny’s face.
He swallowed hard and held his hands up in surrender, but before I could react, something heavy hit the side of his head with a loud thunk. His eyes widened as he fell, unconscious, to the floor. When I looked back up, the doorway was filled with the same people that we had seen on the sidewalk not that long ago.
“Backup is here!” Header cheered through gritted teeth. With the immediate threat subdued, I whipped my head around to find Header. Blood soaked his pant leg, and red streaked the previously white tile floor.
“There’s a helicopter coming,” I announced. “We need to get Warner out of here before they find out we’re here.”
“Let’s go, then,” a woman’s sharp voice ordered impatiently. A couple of men went over to grab Header, while two others set to work untying Warner.
“Are you alright?” another woman asked. Her blonde hair was slicked back into a no-nonsense bun, and she had yet to put her pistol away.
“I’m fine,” I announced. “I’m unscathed. Let’s go.”
I led the group down the hall, trusting that my team was in good hands. We swiftly made our way back down the stairs, with the blonde woman right behind me. We both kept our pistols at the ready, and when we reached the lobby, we cleared the area before letting the rest of the group out of the stairwell.
Outside the front doors, the familiar darkened SUV awaited us. Farr climbed down out of the passenger side with his sidearm in his grasp as we approached, and after a quick scan of the street, he quickly waved us out. Bonnie ran around from the driver’s side and held the back door open, and the group unceremoniously hurled both Warner and Header into the SUV.
“Here,” she said hurriedly, shoving the keys into my hand. “You’re driving.” She climbed into the backseat, and before Farr could close the door, I saw her bend down over Header’s bleeding thigh.
I turned back to the group, but they were all quickly dispersing.
“Thank… you,” I muttered uselessly at their backs. I looked over
at Farr, but he was already climbing into the passenger seat, unbothered by the sudden disappearance of our backup team. I raced around to the driver’s side, climbed in, started up the engine, and peeled off, hurtling in the direction I hoped the freeway was in.
“Hey, Farr,” I sighed as I allowed myself to relax a bit. “I’m driving blind here. I don’t know New York as well as you do.”
“You’re doing great,” he muttered distractedly. I stole a glance in his direction and saw him staring daggers into his side-view mirrors, checking for a tail. I sincerely hoped he wouldn’t find one. The day had been long enough, and I was desperate for an easy ride home.
“Bonnie, how are the guys doing?” I called out. I glanced in the rearview mirror, but I couldn’t see much other than the top of Bonnie’s head and the edge of Header’s shoulder.
“Jake will be okay,” she announced. “I’m no EMT, but I’m doing my best.”
“Warner?” I tried to crane my neck to see him, but someone cut me off as we approached the highway, and I had to turn my attention back to the road in front of me.
“TJ?” Bonnie asked kindly. “How are you? Are you hurt?”
“No.” I could barely hear Warner’s voice, but I sighed with relief when he spoke. If Header’s wound was the worst of it, we would be just fine.
“That’s good, TJ,” Bonnie said reassuredly. “We’ll get you back to the house and get you settled in no time.”
Bonnie’s statement was half true, at least. We did head straight back to the house, and I only made one wrong turn on the way there. The evening had settled over the city, and the traffic was horrendous. Although Farr sat forward for the entire drive, scanning the surrounding traffic repeatedly, nothing went awry, and when we finally reached the entrance to the military base, there was no one behind us.
I pulled into the driveway of the house and let the mental exhaustion crash over me. I slumped in the seat and let out a long breath as Farr climbed out on the passenger side.
“Come on, Marston,” he quipped, “Bonnie can’t carry those two in by herself.”
“Yeah, I’m coming.” I opened the driver’s side door and hopped down. I was hastily shoving the keys into my pockets in an effort to free my hands when I was accosted by a flurry of silky soft hair. I inhaled the scent of coconut conditioner as I wrapped my arms around Tessa’s waist.
