Constantine elbowed his way around me to get to Carter. “Let me guess,” he began, “that pistol you have at your side doesn’t have rubber bullets. What are you planning later? Accidental crossfire?”
In all fairness, my Sig Sauer M17 wasn’t exactly shooting blanks. Hopefully, I wouldn’t need to use it tonight.
“If I wanted you dead, I’d look you in the face and do it, and you know that.” Carter’s words were a low hiss, a crackle in the night air.
We were outside Syracuse in Fayetteville, four miles away from Green Lakes State Park. The CIA’s location for a safe house was a bit of a question mark, and although my opinion on the Agency was less jaded than Constantine’s, I had some concerns about the officers who had the cleaner. Hence the pistol at my hip and the rifle I’d be taking with me tonight.
Jesse set a hand on Carter’s shoulder, urging him to step back. “We need to roll out.”
“Come on.” I grabbed hold of Constantine’s arm, mirroring Jesse’s moves.
“I’m sorry,” Constantine surprised me by saying. “I never said that to you back then. Only to her.” He drew his hands to his hips and bowed his head. “You weren’t just her friend in college. You were dating her, and I convinced Rebecca it was a bad idea to date a friend. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”
Ah shit. Well, I supposed the anger from Carter made a little more sense now.
“But you weren’t really her second choice. She should never have been with me in the first place, and she did go back to you.” Constantine spoke as if trying to reinforce his words with titanium so they’d deliver more of an impact. “I get it, you had to pick up the pieces after I left. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry she died.”
Carter’s shoulders relaxed for the first time since we’d arrived. “We were young,” he said. “And I’m angry she died. I’ll always be upset.” He shook his head. “Like you’ll always be upset about Bianca.” He jerked a thumb toward our SUVs parked side by side, a motion to get a move on. “Let’s just do what we came here to do.” And then he turned, and Jack followed him to the back of their SUV.
Constantine joined Hudson and Alessandro, and they began strapping on their vests. Prepping for the mission.
Jesse looked back at his team leader, then focused on me. “That was close. Carter’s not one to let go of a grudge.”
“I can see that. You sure he’s going to be fine to roll on this op?” I asked him.
“He’s one of the best, so yeah, he’s solid,” Jesse remarked with a nod. “And we’ve called in for backup just in case we get any unexpected visitors showing up looking for the cleaner as well.” He checked his watch. “But the schedule is tight. Not sure if they’ll make it in time, and we can’t afford to wait for them.”
“Let’s hope we’re first to the cleaner, then,” I said as Jesse reached out and patted me on the shoulder before joining his teammates.
I went over to our rental SUV and double-checked my Kevlar plate carrier vest. The ballistic vest came with chest plates for protection, a first aid kit, a grenade pouch of ten, twelve ammo mags, and more. And tonight, rubber bullets.
“I got a bad feeling. You?” Hudson asked as I adjusted my knee pads, then flexed my hands into fists, stretching out the tactical gloves.
“You feel like we’re being watched?” I looked over at the bank of trees off to my right.
“I do, so heads on a swivel.” Hudson patted my shoulder as Carter and his men joined us.
I clipped on my helmet and knocked my night-vision goggles up out of the way.
“Your comms.” Jack handed out the earpieces. “We’ll be in your ear the whole time. No need to tap them on or off.”
Alessandro positioned it into his ear, and I did the same. “You ready?”
“Let’s go over the plan one more time.” Carter had an iPad, and we gathered around him, since he was Alpha One, team leader tonight. And thankfully, Constantine hadn’t argued about that. “This is our insertion point.” Carter zoomed in on the aerial view of the cabin. “Only four heat signatures inside. Pretty light for the CIA.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking Uncle Sam didn’t approve of their grab-the-cleaner-from-the-border-mission.” Jack spoke up.
“It’s possible the man we’re hunting paid off those CIA officers,” Carter said.
“And does that man have a name?” I asked.
“No, but we’re hoping to find it out tonight,” Carter answered, eyes on me. “But still, no killing any officers. We clear?”
“Roger that,” we agreed in unison.
“We’ll advance together until we’re three hundred meters from the cabin,” Carter went on. “We’ll break off, and the assault force will move in, and snipers will head to overwatch.”
The assault team consisted of Jesse, Jack, Alessandro, and myself. Carter, Hudson, and Constantine, the best shooters, would move to higher ground to get to a better field of vision with the widest coverage, and they’d have our sixes as we moved in. Well, that’d been the plan Jesse had shared with us on our drive to meet up with them from the airport. With any luck, it’d be a quick in and out.
But historically, luck was rarely on our side, and shit always went sideways. And with that “watched” feeling having my spine tingling, I readied my rifle and lowered my NVGs, and the green glow filled my line of sight.
“Let’s do this,” Jesse said after we did a comms check; then he fist-bumped us all, and we scattered into our positions.
I kept tabs on the rest of my crew on the assault team over comms, since I couldn’t visually make them out anymore, our camo clothes blending us into the terrain. “Nearing target location,” I shared, and a pop of static filled the line, followed by bursts of rounds being fired off in the distance. And then there it was. The bad feeling coming to life. “The cabin is under attack. A sharpshooter somewhere. Probably two.”
“This is Alpha One,” Carter said. “Get down until we can make out their positions. Stay low until the threats have been eliminated.”
“The men inside won’t have time.” I low-crawled, trying to locate where the shots were coming from.
“This is Alpha Five, I have one scoped. Let’s hit the snipers at the same time. Can anyone locate the second shooter?” Hudson asked.
“This is Alpha Seven. I have movement. Prepping the shot.” I lined my sights on the man’s chest. Dialed in my scope to two hundred meters. Then, letting go of a breath, I relaxed my body in anticipation of the shot.
“On my count,” Hudson said. “Three, two, one.”
I squeezed the trigger, and the recoil came back and into my shoulder. Contact made. “He’s down.”
“Mine as well,” Hudson answered.
“Charlie Mike,” Carter ordered. Continue mission.
“Fuck.” I heard someone curse over the line not even a second later, certain it was Constantine. And then an order. “Shields the fuck up. We’ve got a swarm heading our way from behind. We were followed.”
“I have movement. There’s still someone alive inside,” I said amid the gunfire. Screw rubber bullets. We’d been under attack for the last five minutes from every angle. I’d taken three lives so far tonight, and as I neared the cabin to check for life, I had a feeling there were more kills to come. “Permission to move inside and check?”
“This is Alpha One, I’ve got you covered. Move in,” Carter answered. “Alpha Two, go in with him. We’ve got you.”
Maybe it was something primal inside me, but as I maneuvered along the side of the cabin to access the room where I’d spied movement, my body hummed, and adrenaline propelled me forward. This was what I was good at. What I felt like I’d been made to do. Fight. Win wars. Be a fucking gladiator of modern times.
I caught a flash of movement from the side, ensured it wasn’t someone from my team, and set my crosshairs on him. After a quick calculation, I adjusted and squeezed off a round. My fourth kill now.
“Keep your head down, Seven.” Constantine’s voice cut over the line, using my call sign, as I swapped my rifle for my pistol.
Jesse set a hand to my shoulder and tapped, letting me know he was there. I kept my head low and carefully opened the door. A bullet punched the door, almost hitting me.