Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (23 page)

1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta HQ, Fort Bragg,
North Carolina
A.k.a. “The Unit”

“Sir!”

Dawson
hailed Colonel Thomas Clancy as his Commanding Officer exited one of the
Operations Centers, an op obviously underway. Dawson had just finished
reviewing the briefing notes sent by Kane and had transferred all the data to
his secure phone. He hadn’t expected to run into the Colonel, though he wasn’t
going to avoid the man.

“Do you
have a minute?”

Clancy
continued to walk away from him, though did deign him with a glance over his
shoulder. “No, you’re on vacation. And I don’t want to hear from you, or
of
you, until you get back.”

Dawson grinned.

Blessing
received.

“Yes,
sir!”

Clancy
disappeared into another office and Dawson headed for his car as he formulated
a plan. If they were to infiltrate the castle, it would have to be a covert
operation. He had a dozen men on Bravo Team, but he wouldn’t need that many.
Half a dozen would be more than enough for any contingency.

And if
shit truly went bad, it would leave six men to ride in and save their asses
should it become necessary.

As he
returned to the park behind the Unit, he thought of how he hated to leave
Maggie, though it wouldn’t be the first time he had left her, his job demanding
it, though it would be the first time he had volunteered to leave, out on an
off-the-books mission for a friend.

Then
give it to them.

He
smiled at her words.

She’s
amazing!

He loved
his job and she seemed to love it just as much. They couldn’t really talk about
it, though just the fact he didn’t have to lie to her about what he did for a
living was such a relief. He had avoided relationships his entire career, not
wanting to become attached to someone he may one-day leave as a widow. He had
even spurned Maggie’s advances, but conspiring wives had encouraged her to keep
at it, and he had eventually folded.

Best
damn surrender ever.

He
arrived at the park and strode toward his team, everyone eating, Maggie now at
one of the picnic tables. Red rose and served him up a burger, handing him a
Diet Coke. Dawson noted the beers had all been stowed, sodas and water the
orders of the day.

“What’s
the word?” asked Red as the other members of the team joined them.

Dawson
took a bite and chewed for a moment before swallowing. He nodded at Spock.
“Almost as good as mine.”

“Grill
Master Corporal?” suggested Niner.

Spock
cocked an eyebrow at Niner. “You can cook next time.”

“I don’t
eat meat.”

“What’s
that in your hand?”

“Sorry,
I don’t eat meat I cook. You remember that one time I barbequed.”

Atlas
rumbled a chuckle. “You redefined charbroiled.”

“Exactly.
In Korea you never know if the meat is good, so you cook the shit out of it.”

Jimmy
groaned. “You’re American. Your parents were
South
Korean.”

Niner stared
at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my folks so well.”

“Just
your momma.”

A chorus
of “Oooh”s erupted, Niner snapping a kick at Jimmy’s head, it stopping at inch from
his chin.

Jimmy
didn’t flinch.

“I knew
you wouldn’t make contact. Otherwise I’d have to tell your momma.”

Dawson
laughed, swallowing the last bite of his burger then taking a swig. “Okay,
here’s the deal. Professor Acton’s parents were kidnapped last night and he
needs our help. It could be dangerous.”

“What
else is new?” interjected Jimmy.

Dawson
grinned. “Exactly. I guess that was redundant. Six man team heading for Europe in
less than an hour. Volunteers?”

Every
single one of the team stepped forward in unison. It made him proud, though he
had never doubted they would. It was what they were meant to do, to fight for
those who couldn’t fight for themselves, though the doc would probably beg to
differ on not being able to. There were only two civilians he had encountered
in all his years in this business that he could count on in a firefight, and
they were James Acton and his wife, Laura Palmer. With her wealth, she had
hired a former British Special Forces colonel to head her security team while
on dig sites, and after they began having some problems, expanded his duties to
train them on how to use pretty much every type of weapon, as well as basic
self-defense and other survival skills that had saved their lives more than
once.

They
were solid, reliable partners, but after what he had read, there was no way he
was going to let them go up against that castle and its occupants, even with
Bravo Team. It was one thing to use the skills you had as a civilian to get
your ass
out
of trouble, but you didn’t go rushing into it when there
were trained professionals willing to do it for you.

These
two professors had fought at their side before, even saved some of their lives,
so every single one of his team owed them.

And they
were eager to repay them.

“Okay,
Niner, Jimmy, Spock, Atlas and Jagger, you’re with me. Red, I want you to
remain behind with the rest of the guys on standby. There might be need for a
team here.”

“No
problem.”

Niner
slugged Jimmy in the shoulder. “That’s from my momma.”

“She
does like the rough stuff.”

Atlas
high-fived Jimmy. “Good one, brother.”

Niner
mock-glared at Jimmy then turned to Dawson. “So, where in Europe is this
shindig?”

“Italy.”

“Ooh,
I’ve always wanted to see Italy.”

Jimmy
slugged him in the shoulder. “You’ve seen Italy. More than once.”

“Really,
I’m terrible with math.”

“Don’t
you mean geography?”

Niner
gave Jimmy a look. “Okay, professor, geography. It obviously wasn’t very
memorable.”

“You got
shot at.”

“Huh.
Maybe if I
didn’t
get shot at, it would stick out in my mind.”

Jimmy
laughed. “Now
that’s
probably true.”

Dawson
slapped his hands together. “Okay, say your goodbyes, pack your gear and we’ll
meet at Fayetteville Regional in one hour. Expect to be gone three days so pack
enough undies, Atlas, last time I had to lend you a pair and I never got them
back.”

“That’s
because your size medium barely fit over my calf, let alone my ass.”

Niner
smacked Atlas’ ass. “I like big butts and I cannot lie, you other brothers
can't deny. That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist, and a round
thing in your face…”

Dawson
shook his head as Niner continued to channel Sir Mix-a-Lot, shaking his own ass
as he repeatedly smacked Atlas’.

“On that
note…”

Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

“Status?”

Leroux
looked at his boss, Leif Morrison, as he entered the operations center. “Chief,
we’ve got over one hundred possibles and we keep finding more as we access
additional cameras. One came up as stolen so the FBI is chasing that one down.”

“To the
exclusion of all else,” muttered Sherrie. “No way would pros use a stolen
vehicle.”

“Maybe
they’re not pros?” suggested Randy Child, one of the team’s newer, and
youngest, members. A whiz kid on computers, even by CIA standards, he had
proven to be a welcome addition. He just had to work on his brain-mouth barrier
a little better.

Leroux
shook his head. “Amateurs aren’t on two continents, coordinating an armed
robbery of a university in Italy, killing six people including four police
officers, and kidnapping senior citizens here. These are definitely pros, which
means that vehicle is going to be squeaky clean.”

“So what
are we looking for?” asked Morrison as he eyed the large list of vehicles on
one of the displays.

“We need
to narrow it down to no more than a handful so Kane can run them down on his
own.”

Sherrie
raised her hand slightly. “I’m doing nothing, maybe I can help?”

Morrison
nodded, Leroux’s heart leaping as he realized she was about to head out into
danger. “Do it.”

Sherrie
bounced, grinning in delight. She loved her job, that much was obvious to
Leroux, and she always jumped at the opportunity to go out on assignment. He
just preferred those assignments be black boxes, not ones he would be
monitoring.

Flashbacks
of watching her being tortured during the coup attempt had his stomach doing
flips.

She
kissed him on the cheek, patting the other. “Love you.”

He
smiled weakly. “Love you too.”

“Oooh,”
said Child, his youth shining brightly.

Sherrie
winked at him. “Jealous of your boss?”

“Insanely!”
Child’s eyes suddenly widened and his jaw dropped as he looked at Leroux. “Umm,
sorry, boss. I mean, well, umm”—his shoulders slumped in defeat and he stared
at his keyboard—“just sorry.”

Leroux
said nothing, instead exchanging a glance with a smiling Morrison. He waved a
final goodbye to his girlfriend as she left the ops center, keeping his
expression neutral while his insides leapt with pride at the fact she was
his
girlfriend and other guys found her attractive.

He
caught Sonya Tong glaring at the door Sherrie had just left through, then glancing
at him, her eyes immediately averted as she realized she had been caught.

I
don’t think I’ve ever had two girls interested in me. Ever.

He let a
slight smile slip.

Hell,
I never had
one
until Sherrie.

Morrison
cleared his throat, yanking Leroux out of his self-congratulatory fantasy.

“Sorry,
sir,” he muttered. “Okay, let’s reduce this list. Eliminate all those with
local plates. These guys will be from out of town.”

“Yes,
sir,” mumbled Sonya, her fingers flying over the keyboard. Dozens of the list
on the display began to turn red from green, the possibles quickly dwindling
into more manageable numbers.

Getting
there!

Maggie Harris Residence, Lake in the Pines Apartments, Fayetteville,
North Carolina

Dawson held Maggie tight, neither of them saying anything. It was a
scene repeated all too often in his job, and it was a scene repeated across
America every day. The difference between a husband or wife going on a business
trip and a soldier heading into combat was you were pretty much guaranteed your
spouse was coming back unscathed from that business trip.

The
soldier, you never knew.

Yet it
never stopped them from leaving.

No
matter how hard it was.

He let
her go and she wiped some tears from her eyes. “Hey, I’ll be okay.”

“I know,
you’re Teflon.”

“I’d
prefer to be Kevlar.”

She
laughed, swatting him. “You know what I mean.”

“I know,
I know.”

She
yawned. “Sorry.”

“Overdid
it a little today?”

She
nodded. “I think so, but it felt so good to be out.” She ran her fingers
through her hair, over her scar. “And nobody was staring at my head, so I guess
that was good. Gave me some of my confidence back.”

“That
is
good. If all the kids were able to ignore it, then you know there’s nothing to
worry about.”

“You’re
right, kids can be so cruel. It drives me nuts when I see kids pointing at
someone who’s different and their parents doing nothing about it.”

“What
drives
me
nuts is when you’re at a restaurant and they don’t control
their kids. Did I ever tell you about the time my sister and brother –in-law
took my niece to Denny’s?”

Maggie
shook her head.

Dawson checked
his watch. “Long story short, they were eating breakfast, quietly talking, and
there was another couple with a kid, same age as Jenny—about five at the time.
The kid was screaming and banging things and running around and the parents did
nothing, just kept eating. And get this, they were feeding him some of their
hash browns. On the table.”