71
Brett tried the doorknob, nodded, then flung it open. Retro entered and fired immediately, taking out a hostile directly in our path. He went left and I went right, entering a makeshift kitchen. I saw a man with a hood on his head, another just beyond with an AK. I hit him with a double-tap, the weapon recoiling into my shoulder in a familiar caress. I swept the room, looking for other threats, but none remained.
I felt the adrenaline racing through me and fought to control it. To keep my wits about me, because now it was thinking time.
I said, “Backsweep. Clear this place completely. Watch the windows.”
Brett and Retro left, barrels going wherever their eyeballs went, and I jumped to the man on the floor. I pulled off his hood and saw it wasn’t Nicholas Seacrest.
Damn it.
He was unconscious and appeared to be drugged, his eyes rolling back in his head and his tongue hanging out. I laid him back down and called Jennifer.
“Koko, what’s your status?”
“We’re clear. Can we come in?”
Brett entered the kitchen and gave me a thumbs-up. “Yeah. Target’s secure. We’ve got one hostage. Where’s the other one?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.”
Which I knew wasn’t going to be good.
I looked at Brett and said, “Start SSE. Search this place for anything we can get.”
He said, “Retro’s already on it, but I don’t think it’s going to be much. These guys look like pipe-swingers. I think they were hired as local protection. I don’t think they’re part of the plan.”
I pointed to an Inmarsat terminal on the window ledge, its connecting USB cables dangling as if whatever had been attached had been ripped out. “Get him on that. See if there’s anything he can glean.”
Outside, I heard Jennifer say, “Coming in,” then a pause, her not wanting to get shot as a threat.
I said, “Come on. You’re good.”
She entered, taken aback at the carnage. She said, “I guess you guys had the same fight I did.”
Brett looked up, saying, “Really?”
“Yeah. Yeah. It was . . . not fun.”
Her eyes were glistening with a little postcombat scare, and I knew she’d seen the elephant. So did Brett. He nodded at her, saying nothing else, then went to get Retro.
Nung came in behind her and she pointed at him, saying, “He saved the mission. The man’s quick as a mongoose. They had a guy on the road. Hidden in the bushes.”
I looked at him, and he said, “You told me to protect her.” As robotic as ever.
Jennifer said, “Then he shot a guy trying to surrender.”
I glared at Nung, and he said, “He was trying to kill us.”
“Damn it! When will you get it through your head that I’d like to talk to one of these guys?”
He looked around the room, the bodies littering the floor, and said, “You missed your chance too, I guess.”
Retro entered and I pointed to the Inmarsat. “Can you get anything out of that?”
“Probably not. It’s just a terminal. I need the laptop that was using it.”
I said, “Well, examine it anyway.”
He went to work, and I asked Jennifer, “What happened with the other hostage?”
She told me the story, and I cursed. I saw her face fall, and knew I’d just blamed her. I said, “Not your fault. I’m just pissed. We were so close.”
She tentatively nodded, and I went into team-leader mode. “Jennifer, it’s not your fault. We were forced to execute. Forced to pull this out of our ass, and we did damn good. Nobody got killed, and we got one. We’ll get the others.”
At the mention of others, she perked up and said, “Where’s Kylie? Why isn’t she here?”
“I have no idea. This guy is out like he’s been boozing on Bourbon Street. We probably won’t get any answers until he wakes up.”
“What now?”
“Shit. I don’t know. I’d like to get some sleep, but I’ll be willing to bet that Blaine and Kurt won’t let that happen. You want to call them?”
She smiled. “Uh . . . no. That’s team-leader department.”
While Retro went through the terminal, I called Blaine. After I told him what I had, where we were, and the risks to the hostage we held, he ordered me to remain in place, feeling a medical team would have more freedom here than at our B&B. Less chance of compromise, which, given that I hadn’t heard any sirens, was probably a good bet. If we were compromised here, we’d already know it.
He called in the docs and a cleaning team, who were really getting a workout on this op, then said Kurt wanted to talk to me directly.
I knew why. I rang off and dialed. Kurt answered, saying he’d heard we’d rescued Travis Deleon, the husband of the governor of Texas. I told him, yeah, I thought so, but the guy was drugged out of his mind. I had no idea who he was. I gave him the rundown of what had happened.
He said, “Good work,” then got around to it. “Kylie?”
“Boss, she’s not here. I’m sorry.”
He said nothing. The silence grew, and I said, “But we came close. We’re on them now. They’re on the run. They had to run out of here without a plan. They had no time to figure anything out.”
“You said there was only one other hostage.”
“Yeah. The one in the car.”
“You think that was her? Or Nick?”
I gave him the truth that Jennifer had relayed. “Sir, the body that went into the car was a male. Almost positive. But it might have been her.”
He said, “I’m not sure what to wish for.”
“They’re both out there. We’ll get them both.”
“What’s your next move? Where from here?”
And that was the part of the conversation I didn’t want to broach. I had nothing. This lead was so thin it was a miracle it had worked out. Retro might get something from the Inmarsat, but it wasn’t likely. Whatever he had was historical, and these guys would be too smart to run to anything that they’d ever touched before.
I said, “Sir, we’re at a dead end. I’ve used up my magic. They’re on the road, and I have no idea where.”
“Shit. This hit might just get them to kill ’em. Dump them in a ditch somewhere.”
That took me aback. “Sir, you’re not suggesting—”
“No, no. No way. You got back one. Hell, you got back three. I’m just projecting.”
I said, “All I need is a thread. Just one lead.”
He said, “What’s that?”
“I said, all I need is a thread.”
“Not you. Hang on. Your pal Knuckles is talking.”
The phone went down, and I could hear murmured conversation.
He came back. “I gotta go. Get that place cleaned up. Get back to the bird in Shannon. Clear out of there and stand by.”
The urgency in his voice was unmistakable. I said, “What’s going on?”
“I might have your thread.”