Night with a Seal (Hot SEALs #1) (12 page)

“Will do.” Rick nodded, his gaze holding Jon’s. “Stay safe.”

Jon nodded and delivered his usual response. “That’s the plan.”

~ * ~

“Ugh. There’s not going to be anything on any of the regular networks except this hijacking.” Ali reached for the remote control to switch to one of the cable stations.

Darci opened her mouth and shut it again.

Pausing, Ali glanced at her friend. “Do you want me to leave it on?”

“No. It’s fine. Change it.” Darci shook her head. “It’s just after so many years, it’s hard getting used to the fact I don’t have to stay glued to the television when anything bad like this happens.”

Realization hit Ali. “Because you thought Rick might be there.”

“Yeah. Funny how his ‘trainings’ so often coincided with these kind of international happenings.” Darci made air quotes to emphasize the word
trainings
. “But he’s not there this time. He’s safe and sound at home, so change it. I’m good. Try the cooking channel. Or no, the home decorating network. It’s a new year. I have an itch to redecorate and have a fresh new home too.”

Ali eyed Darci and then the television, which was still showing the same shot of the airplane that had been on screen for the past half hour.

“Rick’s friends might be there. Guys you know.” Men who Ali now knew too. She said it as much to remind herself there was good reason she and Jon couldn’t give in to their attraction, as to remind Darci it was natural for her to be concerned.

“I know. I hope Zane is done with his booty call, just in case they’re called in.” Darci’s joke rang hollow.

Ali knew Darci would worry about Zane and all the guys, no matter what she said. So would Ali, about Jon in particular.

It was an impossible situation, she and Jon. So why couldn’t she get that midnight kiss out of her mind? She hit the buttons to change the channel and forced herself to be interested in the woman decorating her dining room with antique silver for a New Year’s Day brunch.

A commercial break came on and changing the subject seemed like the best course of action to get both of their minds off the guys. “I can’t believe we have to work tomorrow.”

“I know. It sucks.”

“Yup.” With that topic covered, Ali needed a new one. “More coffee? Or juice?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay, well let me know if you want anything. Or just help yourself.”

“All right.” Darci wasn’t helping much.

Ali gave up on trying to make conversation. She went back to pretending to watch the TV, but her mind wasn’t on the show. Not even close.

CHAPTER 12

The aircraft bounced onto the runway and Jon stretched. “Home again.”

Zane lifted a brow. “Maybe this time we’ll be here longer than twenty-four hours.”

His butt numb from the length of time spent in the uncomfortable seat, Jon had to agree. “One can only hope.”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out and turned on his phone. After a few seconds, voicemails and texts began to flood in, sending the vibrating cell into a jig in his hand. Next to him, Zane’s phone did the same.

Jon frowned. “What the hell? What did we miss?”

They’d been brought in as back up for the unit stationed on the Horn of Africa, who was already on site in Ethiopia. After flying to Djibouti, Jon’s unit had cooled their heels for a bit in the SEAL encampment on Camp Lemonier waiting for orders. Finally, they were brought to the airport where the hijackers held the airplane and the hostages. There they got to sit around and wait some more.

They’d been gone less than a week. Even so, it was obvious something had happened in that time.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Eyes on his cell, Zane started to press buttons. “Look’s like the bulk of them are from Rick and they came in today.”

Crap. Rick always kept in touch but he’d never blow up Jon’s phone with messages when he knew they were gone. Not like this. Not even when some pretty important shit had happened in his life, like when he’d gotten hired at his new job and when he’d finally gotten a call from the girl he’d given his number to.

“Something must be wrong.” The texts all said basically the same thing in different variations.
Call
. Jon moved on to the voicemails, hoping they might yield a clue.

“Hey, y’all get a shit ton of messages?” Brody leaned over from his seat.

“From Rick? Yeah.” Zane continued to scroll through his texts as Jon pressed his phone to his ear to listen to the voicemail.

“Not just Rick.” Brody shook his head. “Chris texted more than once telling me to call him ASAP. Something must’ve happened.”

Jon nodded. There was no other conclusion he could come up with based on the evidence.

Yeah, in past when anything huge happened in the world—such as the taking out of Osama Bin Laden—Jon had gotten a bunch of messages from anyone and everyone who knew what he did for a living. Everyone assumed he’d been on that mission. The truth was, he’d been training in Mississippi at the time. Not that it mattered. He would have told everyone he wasn’t there, that he’d been training, even if it weren’t true.

This mission hadn’t been anything like that. It wasn’t even like the high profile rescue of Captain Phillips from Somali pirates that Jon had actually been on, which had also yielded a bunch of texts, calls and emails.

This mission, the hijacking in Ethiopia, was small potatoes in comparison. One shot had been fired, and it hadn’t been by Jon, but rather by one of the guys in the unit currently stationed in HOA. The head hijacker had given them a clear shot when he dragged a hostage to the open main cabin door of the aircraft. The mistake cost him his life. After that, the rest of the hijackers had come out with their hands up.

Yes, it had probably all played out on television, as much as they’d tried to keep the news crews away, but it shouldn’t have garnered this kind of response, and not from seasoned operatives like Rick and Chris.

A feeling of sickness settled in his gut as the voicemail message came on and Rick’s panicked voice filled his ear.

“
I’m trying all of you guys even though I know damn well you won’t get this if you’re still on the mission or in the air. Fuck! I don’t know what else to do. Just call me when you can. Please.”

Something was wrong but Jon still didn’t know what. Giving up on the messages, he hit the button to dial. “I’m calling Rick now.”

Brody nodded, focusing on his own cell. “I’ll hit up Chris and see what I find out.”

Rick answered Jon’s call on the first ring. “Jon. Thank God.”

“We just touched down and got your messages. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Darci. And God, Jon, Ali too. He’s got them locked in the bank.”

Fighting his own reaction, Jon said, “All right, Rick. Slow down and give me the SITREP. Who has them locked in the bank?”

Rick drew in a loud, shaky breath. “Okay. A witness outside the bank saw a masked man carrying an automatic weapon walk into the building at approximately eleven-hundred. She called 9-1-1. He’s locked three bank employees inside with an unknown number of customers.”

Jon glanced at the time. Ali and Darci had been hostages for more than three hours.

“So one hostage-taker and at least three, possibly more hostages?”

“Yeah. The news says that a couple of the bank employees had gone on break right before the gunmen walked in. Christ, I wish it had been Darci.”

“I know, Rick. Keep it together, man. Everyone’s going to be fine.” Jon had to believe that himself. “Are the authorities in phone contact?”

“I don’t think so. They have a negotiator on a bullhorn trying to convince him to release at least the women. That’s all I know. I’m behind the police barricade with the rest of the civilians and press.”

“Did you tell them your sister is in there?”

“Yes, of course. They don’t give a shit.” Rick’s frustration was clear in his voice.

The police wouldn’t want any collateral damage if things went bad, but Jon understood Rick’s feelings perfectly. He just couldn’t let his association with Darci or Ali cloud his thinking. Jon moved on to trying to find a motive for the situation. “Has the gunman claimed affiliation with any organization?”

“No. I don’t think so. Not yet. They haven’t mentioned it on the news if he has.”

That was strange. He’d figure a man risking his life to take a bunch of bank employees hostage would want to shout about why he was doing it.

Rick drew in a breath and continued, “But who the hell knows for sure? I’m getting more information from the internet than the authorities on site at this point.”

 
“What’ve they got there? How are the police set up?” Jon asked Rick something he would be able to answer.

 
“Not just police. A few suits just showed up that have the look of Feds to them. I’d say close to sixty men, which includes uniformed police, S.W.A.T., tactical support units and the suits I mentioned. Squad cars blocking the roads. I see one, two, three snipers on surrounding rooftops.”

“What’s the layout of the bank building?”

“Glass entrance foyer on the south side. Double sets of doors leading into the lobby area with the tellers’ counter. Drive up window, north side. Offices off to the east side with windows in the front. No windows or visibility on the west side of the building.”

By now every member of Jon’s unit was up and out of their seats and clustered around him, listening to his side of the conversation. He resisted the urge to hit speakerphone. The others on the flight didn’t need to be privy to all that was happening.

“Where is he holding the hostages?” He kept his voice down while reaching to release his safety belt. The Air Force crew would lower the ramp any minute and the crew chief would give the order to disembark.

“From what I’ve overheard, they think they’re in the vault.”

“Location?”

“North-east side of the building.”

Jon pictured the building in his mind. “How many stories?”

“One.”

That was good news. The roof could be the weak point. A team, choppered in, could fast rope down and at least place a listening device so they could hear the state the hostages were in.

The hostages
. . . Jon had to objectively think of them as faceless, nameless, but they weren’t. He knew at least two of their names, and he knew a lot more about Ali than just her face. And Darci—he could only imagine what Rick was feeling right now.

Jon wrestled his focus back to where it needed to be. “They have anyone on the roof yet?”

“No, but that’s what I would do if it were up to me.” Rick let out a sigh. “These S.W.A.T. guys—Jon, I’ve seen them work in this kind of situation. They go in guns blazing. It’s amazing the hostages aren’t killed right along with the hostage-takers.”

Talking logistics had seemed to bring Rick back to his years of training and put him in work mode. He’d sounded calmer for a bit, but now the panic returned to his voice when he talked about the possibility of casualties.

He knew Rick would feel better to be doing something rather than cooling his heels. So would Jon, and maybe there was something he could do about that. “We’re getting off the transport now. I’ll get there as soon as I can, but listen. If there is any chance, even a suspicion that this guy is a foreign terrorist, or even an American with ties to Al Qaeda, they could bring us in.”

“I hear ya. Let me see what I find. I’ll call you back.”

Rick sounded more hopeful before he’d disconnected. Jon giving him a task, and some hope, had helped.

Jon lowered his cell and glanced around him. “You guys hear all that?”

Brody dipped his head in a nod. “Yeah, and Chris filled me in on what he knew. He’s on site with Rick.”

Jon checked the time again and blew out a breath. “It’s coming up on four hours since he locked down the building.”

Anything could have happened inside that bank during that time and the authorities might know nothing about it.

Zane cocked a brow. “Jon, you know how these things go. It’s all sit around and wait. If he’d killed a hostage, he’d have announced it somehow to prove he’s serious.”