Shadows (Black Raven Book 1) (45 page)

Maybe.

He sure as hell hoped so.

“Ragno, Sebastian,” Zeus said. “Give me a few minutes.”

Sebastian nodded, as Zeus clicked off the shared communication line.

“Hello my sweet angel,” Zeus said. “How was school today?”

As they drove back to the hangar, Sebastian’s mind focused on extraction scenarios while listening to Zeus talk to his daughter.  As always, Zeus’s voice was calm and controlled. Yet when he spoke to six-year-old Ana, a soft lining in his tone revealed something the man didn’t often show the world-an attachment to something other than Black Raven’s work, an attachment that encompassed emotional depth and intense caring. Concern, love, and empathy were evident as he talked with his daughter about her day and her homework, then ended the call with, “I’ll talk to you in the morning. Love you, baby girl.”

***

Four hours after McCollum gave them the location, Sebastian and Zeus were standing before forty Black Raven agents in the hangar. There were thirty-seven men and three women. Some of the agents had backgrounds in military combat arms, others had SWAT experience. All had excelled in Black Raven’s rigorous training programs for firearms skills, problem-solving ability, and team compatibility. Sebastian knew the experienced, elite agents by name, and he was familiar with most of their backgrounds. Anything he didn’t know, Ragno and Zeus fed him as he talked. They split into ten four-man teams, with Sebastian and Zeus each taking a team. The other teams were led by the agents with the most experience in hostage rescue and urban warfare.

“Ragno, get McCollum on the phone.”

When McCollum answered, he said, “The operation will be noisy. I need you to mobilize a naval team to secure the perimeter and keep local law enforcement away. You might want to prepare after-the-fact press releases that it was a military drill. You’re good at bullshit. Think of something. Call me back ASAP with the name of the person who’ll be in charge.”

To the agent he had singled out, he said, “You’re in charge of the liaison effort. Naval personnel are not to get involved or have access to the premises. Perimeter security is their only role. Got it?”

He gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You are operating under orders of Senator Robert McCollum, who is reporting directly to the President. That is all you know. If there’s any issue, tell them to call McCollum. He’ll provide further support for keeping them off the property.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ragno, mobilize a team of Cleaners. We’ll need men here to deal with the fall out.”

To his agents, he said. “Goals. One, rescue Spring Barrows. Two, rescue Richard Barrows. Three, James Trask is not to escape. Ragno, stream their photos.”

She did.

“Now stream the photos of our former Black Raven agents who currently work for Trask.”

As their photographs appeared on a large monitor to his left, and individual iPads, he watched his agents. “Remember these faces. You may know them. They were once Black Raven agents. If these men are in Trask’s inner sanctum and if you encounter any of them, feel free to thank them for compromising the integrity of our operations in a manner that led to the death of our agents. Thank them in any manner you see fit and that is warranted by the situation.”

He didn’t need to be more explicit.

“Sebastian,” Ragno said, “That’s not-”

He spoke over her. “Sorry, Ragno. Now’s not the time for leniency. The teams with Zeus and myself are parachuting onto the roof.” The weather wasn’t optimal, but a HALO jump was possible. They could handle it. “Omega team will follow us. Omega team will remain on the roof and provide sniper coverage on the action on the ground and be on watch for Trask to attempt an air escape. Omega team will have surface-to-air missiles for use, if necessary.

“We don’t know what kind of alarms are in place,” he continued. “Landing on the roof may trigger them. The moment alarms are in play, we’re engaging in full assault with all teams. Alpha Team is my team. Beta Team is Zeus’s team. There are four potential rooftop entry points. Here. Here. Here. And here.”

Analysts on Ragno’s team were streaming images as Sebastian spoke. Close-range satellite imagery revealed rooftop details. “We’ll assess when we get there. We’ll make as much progress as we can into the building. The goal is to get to floors seven, eight, and nine, the floors that thermal imaging flagged for us, without setting off alarms. It’s highly unlikely we will make it there,” he said, acknowledging and embracing the uncertainties they were facing. “Once the penetration by Alpha, Beta, and Omega teams produces an alarm, we’ll use all other teams for the mother of all diversions at ground level. Goal is to draw all Trask security to ground level.”

“Two teams are to breach the property via water, disable all watercraft, and access the property that borders the waterfront. Two other teams will access the property in armored vehicles. The signal is go, go, go. Upon hearing that, from me or Zeus, go straight through the guard gate and into the doors of Trask Enterprises, using whatever force is necessary.”

Ragno interrupted, “Excuse me, Sebastian, but you’re authorizing all-out combat. Aside from the Geneva Convention, you’re operating on domestic soil. You can’t go in shooting to kill anything in your way.”

“Sorry, Ragno,” he said, “can’t hear you-”

“Sebastian-”

“I’m going to turn you off for a while.”

More instructions followed. Sebastian didn’t intend to let Trask, or anyone of importance, out of the building alive, and he made his intentions clear to his agents. By the steady, focused looks his agents were giving him, he’d bet that none planned on showing mercy. Their own had been killed. It was time for retaliation.

A half hour later, under cover of cloudy darkness and using night vision goggles, he and twelve other agents parachuted out of the C130J, the cold air enveloping him. He landed on the roof, unsnapped the parachute’s bindings, and pulled off his oxygen mask. He listened to nothing but a distant airplane, traffic on a nearby interstate, and the quiet steps of his agents as they assembled into their teams and readied themselves for the extraction. No alarm. At least none that he could hear.

He had reestablished connection with Ragno, and all team leaders were mic’d to her. “HALO successful, Ragno.”

“Fabulous. Good luck, all.”

Sebastian gave Zeus a nod when they isolated the best entryway, a service stairwell for air-conditioning units. Three shots, fired with a silencer-equipped Glock, took care of the lock. An agent opened the door, and he was in, his M4 Carbine hoisted. Seven cement stairs led to a door wired with an alarm. In the perfect world, he’d have time to disable it. He eyed the mechanism, figured that tampering with it at the door would only trip it. To disable the system, he had to go to another location, and they couldn’t get there from where they were. Time they’d lose by backtracking and attempting to disarm the system? Too much.

Team leaders were poised for his command.

“Go, go, go.”

Alarms rang. Short bursts of gunfire could be heard, as his men moved forward. Progress was reported in short, clear words and phrases. “Delta Team has docks clear and secure.”

“Three guards, at gate. Dead. Two in parking lot, weapons raised. Dead. Armored vehicle through plate glass windows. Two front desk security guards. Dead.”

“Two guards, lobby rear. Dead.”

“One guard running, North side of building. Running away.”

“Do not give chase,” Sebastian said. “Focus on building. Perimeter agent will take care of him.”

“Fifteen Trask guards, from stairwell, far right of lobby.”

As a barrage of gunfire filled the communication airwaves, Sebastian and Zeus and their teams made progress onto the top floor. They parted ways, Zeus down a hallway and Sebastian into the only door on the tenth floor. It led into spacious living quarters, with floor to ceiling windows. No one there. Moving as a unit, he and his team descended a spiral staircase to the ninth floor, into a large, sterile office. Television monitors displayed several other areas of the building, but he focused on only one, a monitor that showed what looked like a hospital room. There was one hospital bed, and a man lay on his stomach on top of it, arm draped down the side. Sebastian recognized Barrows.

There was no telling whether he was alive.

There was no sign of Spring.

Heart in his throat, he descended the circular stairs, leading his team. In room clearing formation, they entered a hallway. Empty. He pointed at the ceiling-mounted cameras. One of his men went ahead and disabled them with gunfire, as they moved stealthily down the length. There were eight doors.

Fuck.

They systematically opened each door and determined that each room was clear. In the seventh room they found Barrows. No Spring.

He ran to the bed.

“Barrows. Found,” he said. The man’s complexion was gray, his lips tinged blue. “Eighth floor. Unconscious. Sebastian felt for Barrows’ carotid, feeling profound relief when he found it. “Faint pulse. Bullet entry in shoulder, another in his back. Doctor?”

“Roger,” the doctor responded. “Heading in.”

“No. Stand by for clearance from Zeus.” He glanced at his agents. “Two of you stay with Barrows. Defend and keep alive. Field dress. Pressure. Get more instruction from doc.”

“Omega team,” Omega team leader’s voice was calm, but barely audible over the whir of an engine. “Foreign helicopter approaching roof.”

“At first positive ID that it is for Trask,” Sebastian said, “blow it out of the sky.”

“Roger. Still only assuming it’s Trask’s.”

He gestured to one of the agents on his team to follow him, then for the remaining two to stay with Barrows. Sebastian ran as he retraced his steps though the eighth floor corridor. The lone team member who was accompanying him ran in stride with him. There’d been no sign of Trask since entering the building. With the helicopter approaching the roof, Sebastian had his first clue as to where Trask was going. Exit strategy. Helicopter. Roof. Enough said.

“Omega under fire.”

“Activate missile.”

“Done.”

Within seconds of hearing the word, Sebastian heard the explosion and felt the repercussions as he ran.

“Sir. Eight Trask personnel. Exiting stairwell. Roof, eastern side. Spring Barrows is hostage. She appears unconscious.”

He reached the circular stairwell. Three floors to climb.

“Sir. They have the advantage.”

“Beta Team remains on seven,” Zeus said. “We do not yet have control of six and seven, but we will prevent their reinforcements from heading up. Copy?”

“Roger,” Sebastian said, taking the steps three at a time, not pausing to breathe, running through the ninth floor penthouse, and into the same air conditioning service area through which they had entered the building. He paused at the door, knowing he and his team member had the advantage of surprise on Trask and his men. They thought they only had the four-agent Omega team to contend with.

“Omega, talk to me.”

“They’re demanding we drop weapons.” The response was terse and whispered. “They’ve got us, two to one. Plus, they have the hostage.”

“Our chopper’s in the air,” Sebastian said, “Three minutes out.”

“Too long.”

“Tell me location of the hostage and the location of Trask. I’ll exit the stairwell on the western side of the building.” Same way he’d gained entry. He visualized the roof. He’d seen it in aerial shots, as he parachuted in, and when he’d been standing on it. “From there, will I have a clean shot at Trask?”

“Yes. Position is your ten o’clock. Ten yards. He’s fifth from your right. His back is to you. He just took Spring from the man on his right. She’s slumped.”

“I’ll take Trask, the man on his right, and the man on his left. You and your men handle the rest. Open fire as I do. Do not fire if there’s any danger of hitting the girl.”

Sebastian looked at his team member as he lifted his Glock. “Open the door on my nod. Omega, reconfirm position of Trask.”

He shut his eyes for a second, breathing deeply, as he listened to the verbal instructions. It wasn’t the first time he’d emerged from cover with an operation’s success riding on the accuracy of his bullet. The difference now was he saw Skye and Spring when he shut his eyes and the sight jolted him like an electric shock.

He could not fail. Could not even think the word failure, yet there it was, more than a thought. Failure was suddenly a tangible thing, inspiring the harsh reality of what would happen if he did not succeed. It was an f-word that had no business intruding into his thoughts, yet it was rocking him to his core, twisting his gut, making him realize with laser-sharp clarity why crossing the line in his line of work was something never to be done. He opened his eyes, shook off the f-word and the split-second of hesitation it had inspired, caught the puzzled glance of the agent who was watching him, and took a deep, calming breath.

Fuck.

The whole operation had been a nightmare. It needed to end, and when it did, he wasn’t looking back. He needed to feel like himself again. Another deep breath. One more, and he felt normal. One more, and Sebastian was in kill zone, where the world stopped spinning, and all that mattered was the precision with which his shot met its intended target. When he could hear the whump-thud of his heartbeat, when he felt blood crawling though his veins, he was ready.