Into the Storm (14 page)

A command position was the one job Dave vehemently didn’t want, not ever. And particularly not now with this particular grouping of operatives.

But Dave had no choice in the matter. Tom had gently pointed out that training ops such as this one were for experimentation. How, he’d asked in his blandly reasonable voice, did Dave know for sure that he didn’t want to be a team leader if he never tried being a team leader? And what better time to try than here and now?

So here Dave was with his very first command, in charge of a five-person unit that included that oil and water of Troubleshooters Incorporated, Sophia and Decker.

Dave’s first command decision had been to make Decker their point person. Deck would lead their way through the growing darkness, all by himself, way out in front. As far as possible from Sophia.

Dave then assigned Tess the radio—letting her maintain communications with the other two “terrorist” cells led by Sam and Alyssa—although their hardware was ancient and didn’t work more often than not.

He, himself, and Sophia, ahem,
Señorita Diablo,
were in charge of handling the prisoner, leaving Nash at the rear, guarding their six and covering up their trail.

Phase one of Tom’s master plan to keep Lindsey out of the SEALs’ hands had worked like a dream. Of course it helped that the TS Inc team—with the exception of Lindsey—had spent the past few days exploring this area, both during the day and at night. The SEAL officers leading the opposing team, however, had only a few hours spent studying maps and charts. They were out here for the very first time tonight, as would be the case in most rescue scenarios.

Phase one, part A, involved little more than letting the SEAL scouts find Dave’s team—and the hostage. Their SEAL opponents were highly skilled—it didn’t take long at all before Tess got a crackly message from Alyssa’s team that they’d spotted at least one SEAL who was now following the hostage.

Phase one, part B, was more complicated. It involved a stealthy trek through the hills, filled with backtracking and following their own footsteps, as if they were trying their best—which they were—to cover their trail.

They ended up at an abandoned mine that Decker and Nash had found several days earlier. This area was littered with the ramshackle structures. But this one was special. It had a back door, so to speak. There was more than one way in and out.

Dave’s mirthless band had brought the hostage into the mine, meeting up with Alyssa’s cell. They’d traded Nash and Tess—who stayed outside, as if guarding the hostage—for who else but Tom Paoletti.

Like
that
wasn’t at all intimidating—having his boss suddenly on his team during his first-ever command. Still, there was no time to bitch and moan. Like a trip to the dentist, this, too, would eventually end. And it would hurt less if they just kept moving.

So Dave’s new, smaller, more compact cell took the hostage and boogied out the back door. As did the rest of Alyssa’s. Sam’s group was already in place, ready to ambush the SEALs who approached the mine to rescue the hostage.

It was going to be a bloodbath. Or at least a virtual one. The weapons both sides were using didn’t fire bullets, although they made the same attention-drawing racket of real machine guns. They were, however, just a higher-tech version of laser tag. There were sensors in the uniform jackets they all wore. A hit would render the wearer KIA, and turn a stripe on the sleeves a telling deathly shade of black. His or her weapon would cease to fire, and, according to the rules, that person would sit out the rest of the op, neither moving—unless carried out on teammate’s backs—nor speaking.

“What’s the word from Alyssa?” Dave now asked Decker, who had taken over Tess’s radio duties.

“She says we weren’t followed,” Deck reported.

The words were barely out of his mouth when a woman’s voice shouted. “Tom!” Then a scream that sounded much too real. Was that Sophia or Lindsey? The sound of gunshots exploded, all from just down the trail.

It was hard to say who moved faster. Decker may have gotten there first, but his lead over Dave could have been measured in mere inches. They rounded the corner, neck and neck and…

Sophia was sprawled on the ground. Tom Paoletti was, too. His jacket had a black stripe on the sleeve.

“Shit!” Dave wildly looked around for Lindsey, who was gone. He should have known better than to take a break. His team had been slaughtered, and the hostage had been grabbed.

Like Dave, Decker had his weapon up and ready, but whoever had taken Lindsey wasn’t hanging around. “Find the hostage,” Dave ordered Deck, who responded by dropping both his weapon and the radio and crouching in the dust next to Sophia?

She hadn’t been killed—her sleeves were unchanged. She was on the ground because she was…hurt? Dave went onto his knees beside her, too. “Are you all right?”

“I think I killed Tom.” She pushed herself up, reaching for the weapon she’d dropped.

“
You
killed Tom?” Dave couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice as Decker dragged her weapon closer to her.

Sophia nodded, embarrassed. “Thanks,” she told Deck, wincing as she discovered that she’d skinned her knee. It was bleeding through a tear in her pants.

“What happened?” Dave asked.

“Someone pushed her, knocking her off her feet while they snatched the hostage, that’s what happened,” Decker said. “And when I find them, they’re going to die.”

“I was sort of asking Sophia,” Dave told Deck mildly. “Although I’m sure she appreciates the macho warrior rhetoric. You want to beat your chest for us, too?”

It was possible that Tom, although dead, laughed.

“No one pushed me,” Sophia said. “And if you two are going to fight, I’m out of here.”

“Find Lindsey,” Dave ordered Decker again, as if he were a mentally challenged dog. He took the radio. He had to let Alyssa and Sam know that they’d lost the hostage. They had to start working on a plan to get her back. But, of course, the radio was completely dead. He couldn’t keep his frustration from his voice. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

“You’ll have to go to a higher elevation to get a signal.” Decker gathered up his weapon, smoothly pulling himself up in that athletic way he had that made everything he did look graceful. Dave was going to grunt at least twice, elbows and knees awkwardly akimbo, as he hauled himself to his feet.

“Which way did they take her?” Deck asked Sophia.

She shrugged apologetically. “I don’t know. That way, I think, from process of elimination.” She pointed north. “She was sitting on that rock. I was over here.” She pointed nearby. “I heard a noise and I stood up to check it out, and when I turned back, Lindsey was gone.” She turned back to Dave. “I didn’t hear anyone. It was like…she just vanished.”

“And no one pushed you,” Deck repeated, as if he didn’t quite believe it.

“No one was anywhere near me,” she admitted. “I was so surprised that Lindsey was gone. I shouted for Tom—I don’t know where he went, either—and I think I took a step backward and tripped. I must’ve grabbed my gun the wrong way—the only training I’ve had is with small arms. It started firing and…That’s when I must’ve killed Tom.” She looked over at him. “Sorry, sir.”

Dave again gave the order to Decker. Maybe third time would be the charm. “Go, now, and track the team that took Lindsey. Sophia and I will get a message to Alyssa, try to recoup the damage that’s been done.” He got to his feet with only one grunt, holding out his hand to help Sophia up. “We better move, because those gunshots surely drew some attention.”

Yet Deck still lingered. “You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked Sophia, who nodded.

It was only then that he left.

“Come on,” Dave said, leading Sophia in the other direction.

It was her turn to hesitate. “Are we really just supposed to leave Tom?”

“We’re terrorist scum,” Dave pointed out. “We’re supposed to remove his gold teeth, strip him of his boots and clothing, and leave him for the bobcats to eat for a midnight snack.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sophia told Tom again, as Dave pulled her with him down the trail.

“I’m not,” Dave grumbled. “It’s his fault entirely for making me a team leader.”

Shots had been fired.

Jenk had been sent to investigate, along with Izzy, Lopez, Orlikowski, and Gillman.

Izzy found the enemy first. “Tommy’s dead,” he reported gleefully.

“No way.” Danny Gillman couldn’t believe it.

“Go see for yourself, Fishboy,” Izzy countered. “He’s lying by the side of the trail. Black stripe.”

“No,” Jenk said. There was no time for Gillman to do his doubting Thomas routine. “Iz, did you see Lindsey?”

“No sign of her, M. Which could confirm they left her in that mine.”

“What this could confirm is that the mine has a second entrance,” Jenk said. It was true that Lindsey hadn’t been seen leaving the mine, but what about Sophia, Dave, or Decker? They hadn’t been seen leaving it, either.

“I didn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying,” Izzy continued, “but it looks like they’re splitting up. Decker’s going one way, Malkoff and Sophia are going another.”

“I’ll follow Sophia,” Danny and Lopez unisoned. What a surprise.

“You think you can keep up with Decker?” Jenk asked Izzy.

“Depends,” Izzy said. “Am I going to be dragging your sorry ass with me?”

“Fuck you,” Jenk said.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jenk turned to Johnny O. “Run this info back to Commander Koehl.” Their radios were down, which sucked, but was probably intentional. Technology was a gift, a pleasant bonus during those times that all the equipment worked as it should. But they always had to be ready to go without, which was why they could navigate using the stars and start a fire with a pair of sticks. Among other things, like resorting to message runners to communicate.

Orlikowski vanished.

“Follow Dave and Sophia,” Jenk told Gillman and Lopez. “Can you do that without tripping over your dicks?”

Izzy answered for them, even though they left just as quickly as Orlikowski had. “Lopez, yes. Gillman, no. But stupidity is contagious, so you just upped our side’s body count by two.”

“Maybe they’ll learn something,” Jenk said.

“Maybe.” Izzy paused. “When the fuck did we become the wise old-timers?”

“I don’t know,” Jenk said. But he was lying. He’d started growing up the first time one of his teammates died on an op. His recent trip to A-stan that nearly resulted in his own death was just the frosting. This particular cake had already been baking for some time.

“You ever think about crossing over?” Izzy asked. “You know, going to OCS before you get too old?”

Izzy was actually talking about becoming an officer, going to Officer Candidate School. And Jesus, he was serious.

Or was he? It was hard to tell with Zanella.

Especially when he segued directly into a different topic. “So Sophia Ghaffari,” he said. “She has the kids drooling. Doesn’t do it for
you,
though, huh?”

“She’s beautiful,” Jenk said. “But…I don’t know.”

“Remote,” Izzy agreed. “But I’d do her if she asked. I mean, who’d say no to that? Now Lindsey Fontaine. Totally bangable, right?”

Jenk sighed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Izzy said. “You pretend she’s just your friend, but I’ve seen you looking at her like you got a rocket in your pocket. On the Mark Jenkins Wham-Bang scoreboard, with a high-scoring ten being who? Julie Andrews?”

“Fuck you.” Jenk laughed. They had to get moving.

But Izzy had more to say. “There’s a solid affirmative. And dude, really, no need to be ashamed. Mary Poppins is hot. So Julie’s a ten, which means Lindsey’s, what? Off the charts with a never-before-seen fifteen? Ow.”

“We should probably shut up now,” Jenk said. They wanted to find Decker, not have Decker find them.

“And, again, I’ll take that as a yes.” Izzy was satisfied.

Which was fine with Jenk. Let him have the last word. Let him think he was right. Even though he wasn’t.

On Jenk’s nonexistent scoreboard, if he’d had such a thing, Lindsey Fontaine would have come in much higher than fifteen.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

S
ophia couldn’t believe that she had, in one magnificent screwup, lost their hostage and killed her boss.

Although maybe it was worth it—just for that one moment when Decker was crouching there next to her, concern in his eyes.
Are you sure you’re all right?

Her knee was badly bruised, and it stung where she’d scraped it. And the heels of her hands were pretty raw, too. She’d managed to conceal that from both Decker and Dave. Well, Decker, anyway. It was clear that Dave knew her hands were sore as he took her by the wrist and swiftly pulled her with him into a cave that was barely more than a crevice among the rocks.

“What—”

He shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips, then touching his ear. He’d heard something. Someone was following them.

How many?
She mouthed the words.

Dave shook his head. He didn’t know. He touched his ear again. He was listening.

There were only a few men on the planet with whom Sophia felt safe enough to occupy the same few square inches of space without discomfort, and Dave Malkoff was one of them.

He’d put on quite a bit of weight since the last time they’d been squeezed in together in a tight spot. It was funny that she hadn’t noticed, although come to think of it, he
had
mentioned recently that he’d joined a gym. And he did tend to wear loose T-shirts and baggy shorts.

His arms around her felt warming rather than threatening. She could hear him trying to slow his breathing, feel his heart. It was pounding. They were, no doubt, in even worse trouble than she’d thought.

It was entirely possible that they were surrounded by the SEALs who took Lindsey. Although why, if they wanted to kill them, had they waited until now to do it? It didn’t make sense.

Dave loosened his hold on her as he quietly attempted to work the radio.

Sophia tapped his arm.

Why are they following us?
she silently asked when he blinked down at her, their faces mere inches apart.

He leaned close enough to speak to her.

“I think they realized we don’t have radio contact with the other cells,” he said almost noiselessly, his breath warm against her ear.

Okay, now, this was awkward. Or it would have been if it were anyone but her good buddy Dave. She was pressed against him from shoulders to thighs, her left hand pinned between his chest and her breasts. Straightening her arm would mean her hand would dangle near a place she didn’t want her hand dangling.

“They know that as soon as we spread the word that Lindsey’s gone,” he explained, “our team’s priority is going to be to get her back. They probably realize that neutralizing us puts them at a serious advantage.”

Sophia’s wrist was on the verge of breaking, so she shifted her shoulder, moving her arm back around him. Which resulted in her upper body plastered against his, and his mouth not just close to her ear, but pressed against it as he continued, “I’m pretty sure they’re—Sorry. I’m…”

He pulled back, which was even more awkward because now he was looking directly into her eyes. His lips moved silently.
Sorry.

For several long seconds something hung in the air between them. Something palpable and aware and warmly sexual—and she wanted to cry, because this was Dave, for heaven’s sake.

He was her friend.

Or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was just another man who wanted to possess her. Maybe he was trying to worm his way into her bed indirectly. Maybe he was even worse than the others who were, at least, up front about what they really wanted.

And now Sophia had the choice of putting her left hand along his shoulder or his waist. Both were equally suggestive and she wanted to do neither.

“Shit,” he said. “
Shit.
How could you be afraid of me?”

How did he know? Was she really that transparent? Apparently, yes.

“Look,” he said, taking her face between his hands, obviously no longer trying to be silent, no longer caring who overheard them. “You’re a very attractive woman. I find you attractive—I’d have to be dead for, like, two years not to, and…I guess it’s sometimes hard for me to hide it. But please,
please
don’t think that I would ever act in any way that would jeopardize our friendship. Think about it, Sophia. I’m one of the few people who can actually guess the kind of abuse you survived in Kazbekistan. I would never take advantage of you.
Never.
I would rather die first.”

The look in his eyes was so completely Dave—sincere and honest and desperately true, and Sophia suddenly had the perfect place for her left arm. She wrapped it around him, as she held him tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so stupid.” Stupid and twisted and broken. Would she ever completely trust anyone ever again?

“No, this was my fault,” Dave told her, kissing the top of her head. “This is just a…a silly game, and I let the idea of winning it matter more than…” He shifted, as if to pull her out of the narrow cover that the rocks provided. “Let’s surrender. We can just walk out there, hands up. End this right now.”

She pulled back to look up at him, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing. And grateful to him, too, at the same time.

“I bet they’ll give us chocolate,” he said enticingly.

“You’d betray the cause for chocolate?” she asked, straightening her bandana and giving him her haughtiest glare. “Señorita Diablo spits on your shoe.” She pretended to do just that, and he laughed.

But his smile quickly faded. “You know, the fact that you’re out here at all is…I’m so proud of you.”

Dave was standing slightly bent over, shoulders hunched, so as to give her as much room as possible. How could she have ever thought he was a threat of any kind? He was
proud
of her. She wanted to cry.

“So okay,” he said. “We’ve lost Lindsey and killed Tom. You don’t want chocolate, so what’s next on the agenda?”

But now she had to laugh. “That was a very generous use of
we.
”

Dave shrugged. “I’m team leader. You might do it, but I own it. With that in mind, what are
we
doing next?”

“We need to get that message to Alyssa,” Sophia told him. “Try the radio again.”

He did, holding the headphones to one ear. “Still nothing.”

“Okay,” Sophia said. “Here’s what I think we should do.”

Jenkins rematerialized next to Izzy, sending a silent message with a shake of his head.

No one was following them.

This was surreal.

Izzy and Jenk were following Decker, who had gone in circles for quite some time, searching for something that he didn’t appear to find.

Deck had backtracked then, heading in the direction that Lopez and Gilligan had traveled as they’d followed Sophia and Dave Malkoff.

It wasn’t long before Decker—a former SEAL—had picked up Lopez and Gillman’s trail. He was now following them as they followed Sophia and Dave—and as Iz and Jenk followed him.

The Jenkster had clearly been thinking the same thing Izzy was, because he’d used hand signals to communicate that he was going to circle around behind them, make sure
they
weren’t being followed.

He’d ninja-ed into human mist and drifted away.

For all of Izzy’s disparaging comments, Jenkins was one of the better operators on Team Sixteen. Sure, he was no Irving Zanella, but he was tolerably close.

Jenk, now back, hand-signaled a well-deserved
What the fuck?

There was no way Izzy was going to be able to explain nonverbally why they’d all stopped moving, so he leaned over and spoke into Jenk’s ear.

“Sophia and Malkoff got spooked and ducked into a cave.” He quickly sketched out the location of the various other players in this game of Follow the Terrorist Leader. Jenk used his night-vision glasses to locate first Decker and then Lopez and Gillman, and finally the entrance to the cave.

No one had moved, for going on ten minutes now.

“What are they doing in there?” Jenk muttered, his glasses trained on that cave.

“Maybe that’s where they’ve got Lindsey,” Izzy suggested. “Or maybe they’re having a quickie.”

As if on cue, Sophia spoke, her voice ringing in the stillness. “Dave?”

Everyone froze. Izzy used his own NVGs to scan the areas where Decker and the SEALs were hiding. They’d all been nearly invisible before, but now they had completely become one with the rocks and desert scrub around them.

Sophia’s voice got louder. “Dave? Oh, my God,
Dave
! Help me, somebody, oh my God!”

It was the oldest trick in the book. Call for help, draw the enemy out into the open, and turn them into hamburger.

But Sophia didn’t stay concealed in the rocks. She ran out into the open herself. “Please, I know someone’s out there. We need a radio. We need a medic—please, Dave’s…I think he’s having a heart attack.”

Izzy looked at Jenk, who looked at Izzy.

“She’s shitting us, right?” Izzy asked.

“This is real!” Sophia sobbed. Her weapon dropped with a clatter on the ground and she held her hands up. “I’m unarmed, and I need help! Shoot me if you have to, but damn it,
help
us!”

Jenk shook his head, serious doubt in his eyes. Damn, if
they
were wondering if maybe Dave really was having a medical emergency, then Dumb and Dumber up there closer to the action were probably…

Izzy trained his NVGs on Gillman and Lopez. Fucking A, they were coming out of cover. Lopez, usually the smarter one, was leading the way. But Lopez was a hospital corpsman. He was physically unable not to risk his own life when the call went out for a medic. That, plus the promise of gratitude brimming in Sophia’s tear-filled eyes had significantly lowered his IQ.

As for Gilligan following him—he had no excuse.

“Yup, she’s shitting us,” Jenkins announced.

Izzy swung the NVGs over to the cave where, sure enough, Dave Malkoff was very much not in the throes of death. From the other SEALs’ and even Decker’s position he would be completely hidden, but Izzy and Jenk had a clear, unobstructed view of Dave tippy-toeing through the tulips, making a run for freedom.

Sophia, meanwhile, had collapsed, sobbing, onto her dusty stage.

And here was Lopez, trusting that just because her weapon was five feet away from her, she wasn’t going to up and shoot him.

Izzy looked up from his green-tinted view of the world as Jenk rapidly moved forward. What the fuck…?

But then he saw that Decker was moving, too. Moving just to the edge of the clearing, still hidden by the scrub brush, his weapon ready to blow Lopez and Gillman away. Jenk was trying to get close enough to eliminate Decker, but he never had a chance.

Because as Lopez and Gillman, the freaking idiots, approached Sophia, she pulled another weapon—Dave’s presumably—smaller and concealable, from beneath her jacket.

And she whaled on the trigger, sweeping the barrel, emptying the magazine.

Jenkie pancaked, good man.

Decker wasn’t as fortunate. He was as dead as Lopez and Gillman. Izzy could see the stripes on his sleeves reading bright green in his NVGs—which translated to black as seen by the naked eye. The dude rolled onto his back in exasperation. Sophia had killed him, and the big irony was that she didn’t even know it.

“Oh, man,” Gilligan said as he sat down next to Lopez. Their role in the game was over, and they both knew that the debrief was going to suck. They were going to have some ‘splainin’ to do. Lopez would play the medic card and as a result would receive at least a sliver of a pardon. But Gilligan was going to be hammered. Because what could the fishboy use as an excuse for following Lopez?
I’m sorry, sir, but I was afraid if Lopez went out there by himself and saved the day, he’d end up getting a gratitude screw, and I just wanted to make sure I was eligible for the honors, too.

“Sorry, boys,” Sophia said, as she shouldered both weapons.

“Come on, we better move.” Good ol’ Dave had hung back, waiting for her, instead of running like hell when he’d had the chance.

Sophia scolded him. “You should be long gone.”

“Yeah, well, you should be dead.” He held out his hand, first to reclaim his weapon and then to help her over the rocky terrain. “Good job, by the way.”

“Thank you. I can’t say the same to you—what if they’d killed me? They would have caught you right away.”

“But they didn’t,” Dave said evenly. “Shhh. We need to be quiet now.”

Izzy followed them. Jenk was behind him again, too.

“Yeah,” Sophia scoffed. “Shhh. You don’t want to talk about this, because you know I’m right. You should have started running as soon as I started distracting them. I’m telling Tom on you.”

“Kind of hard to do,” Dave commented, “considering you killed him.”

“But now I have more than just losing Lindsey and killing Tom on my résumé,” Sophia said. “I’ve got two SEAL notches on my belt. Well, I would if I were wearing a belt…”

Jenk was tugging on his sleeve, so Izzy turned.
Losing Lindsey,
Jenk mouthed. “Is she saying…?”

Izzy put his finger to his lips, not because they might be overheard—no chance of that with the way these two chattered. But Sophia was speaking again.