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Chapter Seventeen

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Kai strode into the warehouse through the back door, a carrier with five cups of coffee in one hand and her duffel bag in the other. Her messenger bag hung across her body, and she felt the weight of the weapons inside resting heavily against her hip. After a brief stop at her storage room, she had gotten coffee for everyone before heading over to the warehouse they had used the day before. They had a long day ahead of them. Better for everyone to start off properly caffeinated.

“You look like a woman who’s not in the mood to be messed with,” Raj said, looking up as she went towards the group gathered around two large folding tables, sorting through equipment. “Is that your game face?”

“No, this is my I-haven’t-had-coffee-so-don’t-talk-to-me-yet face,” she retorted, setting down the carrier and dropping her duffel on the floor.

“Is that from your place?” Asher asked, his face lighting up. He put down the pistol in his hand when she nodded and reached for one of the cups. “You’re amazing. Thank you!”

“I thought you were joking when you said you were bringing coffee,” Rina said with a laugh.

“I never joke about coffee.” Kai lifted the strap of her bag over her head and set it on the table before reaching for a cup. “Is our fearless leader making an appearance?”

“Yes,” Jared said from behind her.

She turned in surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to come,” she said. “I didn’t get you coffee.”

He smiled faintly and held up a travel mug. “I brought my own.”

She nodded and turned back to the table, surveying the array of semi-automatic pistols, rifles, ammunition, and tactical gear. She reached for two leg holsters and opened up her messenger bag, sliding them inside.

“Is the van loaded and ready to go?” Jared asked.

“As far as the server equipment goes, yes.” Asher glanced up from where he was loading a clip for his pistol. “As long as it’s within a five-mile radius of the compound, I’ll be able to access the feed.”

Jared nodded and looked over at Raj. He and Kodak were at the adjacent table, sorting through explosives and charges.

“And your girl inside?”

“Ready to go,” he answered. “She’ll create an urgent need for plumbing assistance at exactly one twenty-five. The call should go out any time after that.”

“When it does, I’ll intercept it,” Asher said, lowering his eyes back to his bullets. “I can get an approximate location the workers will come from for you, but the rest is up to you.”

“We’ll take care of it, Ash,” Kodak assured him. “Just intercept the call.”

“Your truck is outside, parked in the back,” Jared told them, pulling out a set of keys and tossing them to Kodak. “It’s not pretty, but it won’t draw any attention.”

“We don’t need pretty,” Kodak said. “We just need it to get us there.”

“Speak for yourself,” Raj muttered. “I’d prefer a nice vehicle myself.”

“We’re workmen. We don’t drive nice vehicles.”

Jared touched Kai on her shoulder and she looked at him questioningly.

“I’d like to speak with you,” he murmured, motioning with his head for her to follow him.

She nodded and finished examining the Sig Sauer in her hands. Setting it down, she turned to follow Jared across the warehouse to the back door. They stepped outside into the sunshine and she dropped her sunglasses down from the top of her head, covering her eyes.

“The weather forecast is holding and I got confirmation that the SEAL team is a go for tonight,” he told her. 

“That’s good news,” she said. “No delays.”

“They’re coming in on schedule, two teams, just as we anticipated. There’s a change in our predictions, though. One team will drop into the compound while the other stays in reserve. Once they secure the compound, the second team will go in.”

Kai frowned. “That’s not what our intel said they’d do,” she said. “We planned for both teams dropping in together.”

“I know. Apparently this platoon does things a little differently. It works for them, so they’re doing it their way. Once they realize that it’s not going as planned, they’ll do one of two things: pull out and send in a gunship to blow the whole compound sky high, or the reserve team will go in. You need to have Masha’al out of there before either call is made.”

“Of course. We already knew that.” Kai tilted her head and studied him through her sunglasses. “This doesn’t change anything, really. What are you worried about?”

“I got some additional intel about the team going in,” he said slowly. “Their Lieutenant is very experienced, and from what I understand, he’s as tough as they come.”

“Of course he is. He’s a Navy SEAL.”

“Yes, but this one’s different. He actually thinks.” Jared crossed his arms and stared down at her. “He won’t just take Masha’al’s death at face value. He’ll go in and check.”

Kai was quiet for a minute. “Maybe the blood packs wouldn’t have been overkill after all,” she finally said. “How fast does he move? Do we have any information on his past performance? Do I need to worry about him getting into the building before it blows?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded. She knew it was a long shot asking. It was amazing that Jared had been able to get information on a specific soldier at all, let alone the Lieutenant slated to lead the assault team. But Kai had stopped trying to figure out how Jared knew the things he did a long time ago.

“I’ll stick to the plan, then get Masha’al straight into the tunnel,” she said finally. “If this Lieutenant makes it into the building before the charges detonate, what do you want to do?”

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment, then Jared exhaled.

“We can’t rely on the reserve team having seen the execution,” he said. “We need a witness to survive. If he gets in too soon, find a way to keep him alive. He needs to convince them that Masha’al’s dead.”

“And the rest of the SEAL team?”

“We just need one.”

Kai nodded. “Understood.”

“Any means necessary, Ruby. Do whatever it takes to keep him alive.”

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Dean clicked the mouse and studied another grainy photo of Masha’al Al-Amin from a different angle. He stared at the profile, memorizing it, then clicked again, moving to the next photo. He’d been through these a hundred times and knew that the images were burned into his brain, but he kept clicking. Going through the motions helped to ease some of his tension.

“You’re still looking at those?” Brian demanded behind him. “Dude, if you don’t know what he looks like by now, you never will.”

Dean sat back in his chair and looked up at his friend. “I know what he looks like. Just killing time. It makes me feel busy.”

“How about you come get your gear together instead? I’m heading down there now.”

“Weather reports are holding?”

“Yup, so let’s go get ready to rock ‘n roll.”

Dean looked back at the screen one last time before closing the lid to the thin, portable laptop. “Are the others there?”

“Not yet. Ron’s rounding them up now.”

He picked up the laptop and turned to walk with Brian towards the door of the common room.

“Is the gunship ready?” 

Brian shot him an unreadable look. “You know it is.”

Dean nodded, feeling rather than seeing Brian’s searching glance as they stepped into the hall. An AC-130 gunship was on standby, ready to level the compound to the ground if they were unable to breach it and extract the terrorist. Their orders were to take him alive, but if that turned out to be impossible, Masha’al wasn’t living to see another day. Brian would call in the gunship if Dean’s team failed. It was a call that no one liked to make, but if he had to make it, Dean and the others were already down.

“Look Ryder, if you’re having some mental issues, you need to get them gone before we get in the air,” Brian finally said, stopping to face Dean.

“Nah, I’m good.” Dean looked at him and shrugged. “I’m just going through it in my head again.”

Brian stared at him for a moment, then nodded and turned to continue walking.

“Good. You’ll be dropping into the middle of over twenty hostiles. I don’t want to have to worry about you on your way down.”

“They’re sticking with twenty, huh?” Dean glanced at him. “That seem a little low to you?”

He shrugged. “The bastard thinks he’s safe. It seems like the over-confidence of an arrogant dick to me.”

Dean grinned briefly. “Nothing I like more than kicking them down to size.”

They fell silent as they went through the labyrinth of corridors until they reached the room holding all their gear. Walking in, Dean looked around. They were the first ones there, and their bags were lined up along one wall where they’d left them, along with their personal firepower. Turning, he glanced across the room at the tables with body armor, holsters, and helmets.

“Just like home,” he murmured, moving towards his bag.

“Are you actually going to wear your body armor this time?” Brian demanded. “Unlike last time?”

“I was wearing it. Well, some of it,” he qualified. “That shit’s heavy.”

“That shit saves our lives.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean picked up his bag and carried it over to a table. “Since we’re going at night, I’ll humor you. If it was a day raid, it’d be like last time.”

“It is hot in the day,” Brian admitted after a minute. “But when I got hit with that shrapnel and machine gun fire—”

“Ugh!” Dean groaned loudly, cutting him off. “You need to stop with that story! I know it by heart.”

“Seventeen bullets, Ryder,” Brian continued, unperturbed. “Seventeen bullets! I was like Sonny in The Godfather. Six of those hit plates. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I swear that number goes up every time you tell it. Last time it was fifteen.”

“It was never fifteen. It was always seventeen.”

“What was always seventeen?” a voice asked from the door.

Dean looked up and watched as Ron strode in, followed by Doc and Brenner.

“Ressler’s body armor story,” he said. “He’s at it again.”

“For good reason,” Doc said, heading over to the bags. “It saved his life. I was there. If he hadn’t been wearing it, it wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“Oh God, not you too.”

“See? Wear the plates.” Brian pulled out his rifle and peered down the sight, handling it with the soft hands of an experienced shooter. “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Pretty sure it was fifteen last time,” Ron said, dropping his bag heavily onto the table next to Dean. “I think you’re right.”

Dean looked at Brian. “See? Not just me.”

“It was always seventeen. Ask Doc.”

“Hell no. I’m not getting in the middle of that,” Doc said, shaking his head. “It was enough to have killed him, all right? We’ll leave it at that.”

“Where are the others?” Dean asked, looking around. “They getting mani-pedis from the Flyboys?”

“They’re coming,” Ron said, pulling a modified sawed-off shotgun out of his bag. “Ah, my old friend.”

“You say that every time you pull that damn thing out,” Brenner said cheerfully. “It’s the ugliest piece of metal I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“This was the first gun I—”

“...modified right out of BUDS,” they all finished for him.

“That’s right. It’s good luck.”

“We don’t need luck,” Dean said, turning to go over to the body armor.

“Can’t hurt,” Ron retorted.

Dean grinned and reached for a tactical vest. He began sliding armor plates into the pockets as Brian joined him.

“Hey, at least it won’t be 110 degrees,” he said.

“That’s the only reason I’m using the plates,” Dean muttered, pulling the heavy plate carrier over his head and securing it. “I hate being slowed down with this kit. You know that.”

“Better to be a little slower than dead,” Brian retorted unsympathetically. “I can’t believe I still have to get on you for this. You’re a Lieutenant, for God’s sake. Lead by example.”

“I lead by instilling the fear of God in them. I make sure my guys wear their kit. What I do is on me.”

Brian grunted and let out a reluctant laugh. “Fair point.”

Dean glanced at him as he tightened the straps on his armor. “You’ll be in the nest, right? Not Jones?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good. I like knowing you’ve got my six.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I know if you mess up, Diane will kick your ass.” He flashed a grin and grabbed his Kevlar helmet, turning to go back to the table with his gear.

“Just remember, Ryder, I run interference for you,” Brian threw over his shoulder. “One word from me and you’ll have every librarian for miles lined up waiting for you when you go home.”

“Wait, what’s this about librarians?” Ron demanded with a grin.

Dean stifled a groan. “Nothing.”

“No, no. Ressler definitely said something about librarians lining up for you,” Doc chimed in as the door opened and the rest of the team came in.

“His wife decided I need a new girl,” Dean said reluctantly, biting the bullet. There was no point in avoiding it. They would just keep on it until they found out.

“You just got rid of the old one!” Brenner exclaimed.

“My point exactly!” 

“I wouldn’t mind having a couple librarians lined up for me,” Doc decided.

“When we get back, you can have mine with my blessing,” Dean told him.

“Deal.”

“I think Diane’ll have something to say about that,” Brian said, coming back with his armor tightened securely. “Tell you what, Doc. I’ll have her round up some nice nurses for you.”

“What’s it like being married to a matchmaker?” Ron asked.

“I have no idea. This is new territory for me. It’s all his fault.” Brian nodded in Dean’s direction. “She’s decided he needs saving.”

“Saving from what?” Dean demanded, looking up, startled.

“Yourself.” Brian laughed at the look on his face. “She means well.”

“God save me from well-meaning women,” Dean muttered. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“I’ll let you try and convince her of that.” Brian hesitated, then shot him a suddenly serious look. “Make sure you go home in one piece so that you can.”

“I’m wearing the damn plates, aren’t I?” Dean grunted. “The rest is up to fate.”