52 |
52 |Burj Khalifa, Room 141B Dubai, United Arab Emirates
“So far so good.”
Atlas stepped out of the bathroom as the team cleared the room, nodding at Niner. “Yeah, but getting in is always the easy part.”
Dawson had to agree. Gaining access to their room had been easy, and judging from the duffel bags piled on the bed, it had been fully prepped by the CIA contacts here in Dubai. He activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One, do you have eyes on the target yet?”
“Zero-One, Control. Micro-drones are coming into position now. We’ll have eyes and ears—oh, God. Stand by, Zero-One.”
Dawson could hear the horror in Leroux’s voice. Though the guy was young, he was skilled, and Dawson had worked with him on multiple occasions.
And he couldn’t recall him losing his cool like he just did.
He pointed at the bed with the equipment. “Something’s wrong. Let’s gear up.”
Atlas, Niner, and Spock went to work, emptying the bags, a quick inventory completed.
Niner gave a thumbs up. “Everything we asked for is here.”
Spock shook his head. “You have to love the fact we have enough arms to start a war in pretty much every country in the world, conveniently stored in those countries.”
Niner chuckled. “God bless America!”
Atlas picked up an MP5. “Amen.”
Dawson pointed at the large window providing a magnificent view of the city below, the sun long set, the bright lights of the metropolis twinkling from this height. “Prep Plan B. I have a feeling—”
“Zero-One, Control. You have to move now. Karlsson is being beaten and appears near death, Acton has a gun to his head and is bleeding, and Palmer is in another room, and it looks like they’re about to…”
Dawson didn’t need to hear the rest of it. “Understood. Bravo Team proceeding in sixty seconds.”
Niner and Spock made quick work of prepping Plan B as Dawson and Atlas geared up.
“Rules of Engagement?” asked Atlas.
Dawson growled. “Take the bastards out. Rape is an automatic death sentence.”
Atlas smiled. “With pleasure.”
“Done!” announced Niner. Dawson didn’t bother inspecting the job. He trusted Niner and Spock’s skills as he trusted his own. He headed out the door and toward the stairwell, the others on his heels. They were committed now, their gear in plain sight. He only hoped Langley was able to provide them with some cover by manipulating the security cameras.
But hotel guests were another thing.
They made it to the stairwell, rushing up the steps to the next floor, then paused at the door.
“You’re clear on target floor. Cameras overridden.”
Dawson shoved open the door and sprinted toward the target room. Atlas readied the entry ram as Dawson reached the door. He pointed and Atlas didn’t miss a beat, swinging the thirty-pound device away from the door, then slamming it into the lock, splintering it open.
Dawson kicked it open the rest of the way with his foot as Atlas stepped back, tossing the ram aside as the team surged inside.
Both of Laura’s hands were gripped tightly, her arms stretched across the bed in preparation for being tied down, spread-eagled, so these bastards could take their turns.
But her legs were still free.
She snapped out her right foot, catching one of her accosters in the side of the head, and he stumbled backward as two more advanced, their eyes eager with the anticipation of what was about to happen.
Not if I can help it!
She pulled both knees up then let a double-footed kick out, catching another in the chest. He fell backward, his head slamming into a mirror, the glass shattering as another loud bang in the main living area of the suite brought everything to a halt.
And as her would-be rapists paused, she took advantage.
She swiveled her hips, her right leg swinging toward the man holding her left hand, his head turned toward the shouts in the next room. She nailed him in the face. His grip broke and she rolled in the opposite direction, preparing to do the same, when the barrel of a gun greeted her instead.
Acton, defeated, sat on his knees, praying for the assault on his wife to stop, his captor making no effort to halt any of the horrors happening in the suite despite his capitulation. Instead, the man just continued to smile at him while he made a call, probably to inform his puppet master of his success.
Then the door to the suite flew open, four men with guns drawn surging inside.
Four men that were the most beautiful sight he could imagine right now.
Dawson led the way, his weapon belching lead, everything he aimed at dropping. His trained eye swept the room, ignoring Acton, then he broke off with Niner, heading for Laura’s room as Spock and Atlas rushed into Karlsson’s. Gunfire erupted from both rooms, the suppressors taking the edge off the shots, all the shots, indicating their captors never stood a chance.
A round of “clears” sounded from both rooms, and Acton struggled to his feet as Dawson reappeared, holding Laura. She pushed from their friend’s arms and rushed into his, uncharacteristically sobbing. He held her tight, saying nothing as she let the emotions pour out as they should.
For there was nothing he could say beyond platitudes.
From the struggle in the next room, he was fairly certain nothing had had a chance to transpire beyond the terror of what was to come.
Their Delta friends had arrived just in time.
Suddenly she stopped, pushing back slightly, tilting her head up, concerned with his still bleeding head wound. “Are you okay?”
He chuckled. “I think that’s supposed to be my line.”
She sighed, patting his chest. “I’m fine. My foot’s a little sore from where I hoofed one of the bastards, but I’ll live.”
He gave her a quick squeezing hug. “That’s my girl.” He tore off his pin then hers, handing them to Dawson. “They’re listening in on these, maybe watching us.”
Dawson pulled a small case out of his pocket and placed them inside. He snapped it shut. “That’ll block any signals. Langley can analyze them later.” He motioned to Niner. “Check the Doc’s noggin.”
Niner quickly grabbed a med kit from a bag near the door that they had dropped on their way in. He sat Acton in a chair then wiped the blood away, examining the wound. “It’s deep, but you’ll live.” He squeezed an expanding foam wound sealer into it, temporarily halting the bleeding. “We’ll look at this when we’re safely out of this shithole.”
Acton looked at the opulence surrounding them.
Niner frowned. “Okay, maybe not shithole.” He turned to Laura. “Did they, umm…”
She shook her head. “No, you guys got here just in time.”
His shoulders slumped as a heavy sigh escaped. “Thank God.” He flashed a smile. “Due to the circumstances, I won’t hit on you.” He winked. “At least not until I patch the Doc up a little better.”
Laura gave him a quick hug. “Don’t ever change, Niner.”
Atlas appeared from Karlsson’s room. “He’s in really bad shape. I don’t know how we’re getting him out of here through the main lobby.”
Acton’s jaw slackened as he realized they weren’t safe yet, and this was just the beginning of their rescue. He stared at the phone on the floor and cursed. “I think we might be getting company.”
Dawson spun toward him. “Why?”
Acton pointed at the phone.
Dawson cursed. “Was he on a call?”
“Yes. And I heard someone shouting after you shot him.”
Dawson activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One, what’s our status?”
He cursed again.