Blue Forever (Men in Uniform) (17 page)

27

“So how the hell are we going to get him out?” Kip called over the noise of the helo’s rotors.

The small, private craft was flying low over the water to avoid detection, bringing them to a large yacht anchored just inside international waters. The vessel’s owner was a Hong Kong businessman who apparently had business dealings with STORM and Commander Bridger.

Everyone but Jaeger—who’d be staying on the yacht running com—had changed into black, full-body rash suits and put their equipment into dry bags. After sunset, the yacht’s speedboat would ferry them close to shore, but they’d be swimming the final half mile or so.

Once on the island, Julie Severin was supposed to meet them and provide transportation. After that—

“Fuck if I know,” Quinn returned with an irreverent grin. “I’m open for suggestions.”

Kip had been afraid of that. He was all about being flexible, but there should be at least a glimmer of a plan to start out with.

Making a face at the noise, Jaeger handed out high-tech earpieces, and they all put them in.

“Waterproof,” Jaeger said.

Kip could barely tell he was wearing the small, sleek set. He was definitely impressed with the technology STORM issued to its operators.

Quinn tapped his earpiece and said, “STORM lima, STORM zulu, STORM romeo, this is STORM alpha six testing com. Do you read me, over?”

Despite the noise of the helo, Kip had no trouble hearing. “Loud and clear, alpha six, over,” he responded. He’d been designated lima for Llowell. Zulu was Zane. Rand Jaeger was romeo. Alpha meant the away team, and six was the standard designation for team leader—in this case Quinn.

“That’s an affirmative, over,” said Zane.

“Yep,” said Jaeger.

Quinn had explained that STORM generally used a relaxed military com protocol, strict enough to keep things orderly when the situation heated up, but loose enough to be casual when the bullets weren’t flying.

“So, any ideas how the fuck we’re going to pull this off?” Zane asked no one in particular, picking up the discussion again now they didn’t have to shout.

“Do we even know where Romanov is being held?” Kip asked.

“According to our sources, they’ve still got him locked up at the navy base,” Quinn said. “But word is they plan to move him to the new high-security prison in Tiandu.”

The prison had been marked on the map Kip memorized before jumping in. He’d paid special attention to the area around it in case he ended up there himself.

“When’s the transfer?” he asked.

Quinn shook his head. “Don’t know.”

“Swell,” Alex Zane muttered. “I love stakeouts.”

Quinn looked at Jaeger. “Do we have eyes in the sky yet?”

The South African pursed his lips. “There’s a NOAA satellite I could redirect—optics aren’t ideal. An army Predator—at least thirty-four hours out.
Impeccable
’s got a ScanEagle—only a twenty-two-hour flight window and bound to show up on radar.” He shrugged. “Shit for choice.”

Kip wasn’t about to ask if they actually had permission to change the focus of NOAA’s satellite, or to use either of those unmanned aerial vehicles. He had the distinct feeling these guys lived as close to the edge as he did and wouldn’t really care about such technicalities.

“What about the Russians?” Zane asked. “They got anything flying around?

Jaeger just snorted and muttered, “Sputnik, maybe.”

Kip chuckled. He was also coming to appreciate how skilled these STORM operators were, so he suggested, “How about spoofing a Chinese UAV? Surely, they’ve got something up there.” When the other three just stared at him, he said, “Hell, you’re already planning to hijack a damn Chinese AUV prototype. Water, air, what’s the difference?”

For a second no one reacted. Then Jaeger grinned. “I knew I liked you.” Then he pulled out his tablet and was instantly immersed.

The helo banked a few minutes later, and approached for a landing. They’d reached the yacht.

After setting down, they piled out with their gear and were greeted by the yacht’s captain. If the man thought it strange three of them were dressed as frogmen, he didn’t comment.

Jaeger picked up his stuff and went below without a backward glance. From the looks of the antenna array poking up from the bridge, he’d have no trouble coordinating communications between the away team, STORM Command, the Russians if necessary, and the submarine when it was at radio depth.

“Sure you want to join this war party?” Quinn asked Kip as they hopped down onto the speedboat. The sun was just setting, and they were oscar mike. “Still time to bail. No one would blame you.”

“Hell, no.” Kip tossed his dry bag into the hold and grabbed a seat next to Zane. Already adrenaline was hitting his bloodstream. “I live for counting coup.”

Quinn tilted his head and studied him. “Damn, I may just have to offer you a job, Major,” he said in that molasses accent of his. “Ever think about leaving the Marines?”

Kip didn’t quite know what to say to that. “Not really. I like what I do.”

“I can see that.”

The speedboat took off immediately, heading for the darkening mass of the big island. It was a narrow black cigar boat, incredibly fast and surprisingly quiet. The kind drug dealers used.

Half an hour later, they pulled on their snorkel gear, dropped silently into the water, and started swimming toward the shore, aiming for a deserted enough spot that they could make landfall unobserved.

Tired as Kip was, it felt good to stretch his muscles and push himself a little physically. The water was warm, the stars above twinkling brightly, and his companions easily kept pace. He was totally in his comfort zone.

Well, except for the conflicting thoughts zinging through his head. The adrenaline had kick-started his mind as well as his body.

What should he do about DeAnne? Anything? Or should he just let it be . . . ? He felt like a ping-pong ball, his inclination bouncing first in one direction, then the other, then back again.

On the plus side, they had chemistry together out the wazoo. And they liked and respected each other. A lot. They seemed to have similar values and ethics. And, despite the danger and uncertainty of the past few days, they’d also had fun together. He could well imagine that a life with DeAnne would be everything he’d ever wanted—if he’d ever wanted to settle down.

Which brought him to the minus side.

He didn’t want to settle down. He liked his exciting life just the way it was. Yeah, he could easily see her in it, sharing time when he was home, relaxing and having phenomenal sex.

Hell, he could even imagine sharing his adventures with her. She’d been amazing on this trip. Always keeping up with him. Never complaining about the hardships or the danger. Even when she was terrified, she’d kept her cool. If she were a Marine, he’d want her in his unit, absolutely.

And right there was the other downside in a nutshell.

She wanted nothing to do with a Marine like him. She wanted a domesticated, non-adrenaline-junkie kind of guy she could marry and have a family with. Someone she could rely on. Someone who’d be there day in and day out.

But Kip wanted nothing to do with marriage or family.

At least . . . he hadn’t.

Not until he’d met DeAnne Lovejoy.

Now? He wasn’t so sure. To accept being in a relationship, she needed a commitment from him. More than he’d been willing to give, up until now. But he was having a really hard time picturing his life without DeAnne in it.

How could he make himself walk away from her, from something this good, just because he didn’t want to deal with his snobby, controlling family, and the trust fund that would change his life inexorably, and forever?

Jesus.
Talk about shit for choices
.

He’d come no closer to making a firm decision one way or the other when they reached the island, hitting a necklace of waves that crashed along the beach. Beyond the narrow band of glistening sand lay a dark void of dense jungle, which they’d have to traverse to reach the rendezvous point where Julie Severin waited with their transpo.

Hopefully.

Pulling off their masks and fins, they ran as silent as wraiths across the sand to the cover of the trees. At the edge of the jungle they tugged on their boots, slid on their night-vision goggles, and slung the dry bags over their shoulders. They would change clothes once they got to the car, so they wouldn’t soil or rip their civvies on the nighttime trek through the thick vegetation.

Quinn tapped his headset, and said quietly into it, “STORM alpha six to romeo, over.”

“Alpha six, romeo. How’s the weather out there, over?”

“Storm is brewing. Going to find shelter. Over and out.”

The exchange was short and sweet, using prearranged phrases to let the home team know they’d made it safely to the island.

Quinn got out his lighted compass, Kip pulled out his Ka-Bar, and Zane drew his weapon, all at the same time.

Their gazes met. As one, they flipped down the eye-scopes of their NVGs.

Zane grinned. “Time to rock and roll, baby.”

“Hoo-ya.”

“Let’s go get us a Ruskie.”

28

When Darcy’s phone rang it startled DeAnne. It was so peaceful and calm up here where they were standing on top of the sail that the mechanical melody was totally out of place.

“Damn. I forgot to put on my headset,” Darcy muttered, pulling a satellite phone from her windbreaker pocket. “Zimmerman,” she answered, then listened for a brief moment and winced. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m doing it right now. So, did the package arrive safely?”

She listened again, fishing in her other pocket, and a measured smile broke over her lips. “Great. Let me know how she likes it.” She rolled her eyes, sliding on a thin headset. “Yeah, yeah. Love you, too, sweetie.”

“The guys?” DeAnne asked anxiously.

“Jaeger. The guys’re good. They made it onto the island and are hoofing it to the rendezvous with Julie Severin.”

DeAnne blew out a breath of relief. Albeit short-lived. The real danger was just beginning for the men. “I can’t believe they’re even attempting this. It’s insane to think they could succeed.”

Darcy made an I-wouldn’t-be-so-sure face. “I don’t know, Quinn’s a pretty enterprising operative. It’s why they put him on the STORM Board of Command. And Zane is as brave as they come.” She slanted her a look. “Your man seems like he’s cut from the same cloth.”

“Not my man, Darcy,” she said automatically, turning her gaze west, to the vast expanse of black sky and indigo water that lay between them and China. The moon spilled a streak of liquid silver over the undulating surface. They were too far out to see the island even if there had been daylight, but she sent good vibes in that direction.

“Uh-huh. Because you didn’t just spend three hours in bed with him. Or maybe you were”—she made air quotes—“just sleeping.”

DeAnne couldn’t help but laugh at Darcy’s amused skepticism. Mainly because she was right, and they both knew it.

She let out a long sigh. “Yeah, that’ll be the day it snows in Hades. Honestly, Darce. I can’t control myself around the man. I turn into some insatiable sex maniac or something.”

Darcy’s eyes danced. “You dream about him, too, I’ll bet.”

DeAnne slapped her hands over her eyes and groaned. “I am in so much trouble.”

“Why? Great sex is a rare thing. When you find it with someone, you should hang on to that guy.”

“Only if it’s the right guy.”

She could feel Darcy’s curious gaze on her. “Why isn’t he right? He seems amazing.”

DeAnne glanced up at the spangle of stars overhead, and the dark clouds scudding across them. “Oh, he’s amazing, all right,” she said resignedly. “It’s just . . . Well, our lifestyles don’t exactly mesh. He’s a Marine. And I’m . . .” She nibbled her lip. “I need a man I can rely on to be there for me. With me.”

Darcy’s eyebrows lifted. “And you don’t think a Marine can be that?”

She knew she was on shaky ground, considering the other woman’s occupation and circle of friends. “Not in my experience.” She gave her a bleak look. “My father was a Marine. I didn’t have the best childhood.”

“Issues, huh.” It wasn’t a question. More like a commiseration.

“You could say that.”

“Join the freakin’ club.” Darcy’s words were ironic but serious. “And the funny thing is, Quinn’s been the only person on the planet I’ve ever really been able to rely on to be there for me.” Her eyebrows flickered. “Once we got past the other women, of course.” She sighed and looked up. “He was a Marine, too, you know.”

“I didn’t. But I’m not surprised. About the Marine thing, anyway.” She winced. “Sorry about the other women.”

Darcy shrugged. “My own fault. We had . . . an arrangement . . . so I didn’t tell him about my feelings for a long time. He was just being a guy.”

“Trust me, I know all about men’s dislike of commitment from my dad. Which is exactly what I’m afraid of with Kip.”

“That he’ll use you and then abandon you?”

DeAnne hadn’t thought of it in precisely those terms, but now that she mentioned it . . . “Pretty much.”

“I get it,” Darcy said, folded her arms, and leaned over the rail of the crow’s nest, concentrating on the sub’s wake as it cut through the waves, the white foam illuminated by the moonlight. “It’s tough to put your trust in someone so completely when you haven’t had a lot of luck doing that in the past.”

It sounded as if Darcy was speaking from experience. All at once DeAnne felt an unexpected kinship with her. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Really tough.”

They watched the inky waves for a few minutes, enjoying the warm night breeze and the feeling of being high above everything.

“I’m having a hard time setting our wedding date,” Darcy confessed. “Not because I don’t love Bobby Lee,” she hurried to say, “because I do. Deeply and madly. It’s just . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Hell, I don’t know why.”

“You’re afraid.” DeAnne could totally relate.

“I’m terrified he’ll change his mind and leave me standing at the altar like a fool. Terrified I won’t know how to keep him happy. Terrified he’ll grow tired of me after a year or two and trade me in for a newer model.” She gave a little laugh. “Dumb, huh?”

“No. Not dumb,” DeAnne assured her. “It’s every woman’s worst fear.”

“Sounds like you and I have a bigger dose of that fear than most.”

DeAnne smiled wanly. “Lucky us.”

Just then, one of the crew stuck his head up through the barrel hatch. “Ma’am? Lieutenant Commander Walker and Master Chief Edwards are asking for you.”

They both turned. DeAnne shivered against a sudden chill. She’d been so wrapped up in the girl talk she’d totally forgotten about the mission that was the reason they were there on this submarine.

“We’ll be right down,” Darcy told him.

“What do you think they need?” DeAnne asked her after the rating disappeared back down the ladder.

“Lord knows.”

She knew Clint and Rufus were in charge of executing the daring plan to pull a switch on the new, cutting-edge Chinese AUV, so the U.S. Navy could design countermeasures to prevent a fleet of them spying and possibly wreaking havoc on our shores in the future.

“Think something has gone wrong with the plan?” she asked.

Darcy looked worried. “God, I hope not.” She headed for the ladder. “Come on. Let’s go find out.”

* * *

Kip was getting that feeling again. The one on the back of his neck that was telling him something was not right.

He, Quinn, and Alex Zane had been traversing the jungle for a couple of hours now, making good time. The two STORM operators really knew how to move silently and swiftly, their trail of disturbance nearly imperceptible. They would easily fit in with his own crack Intelligence unit. So he felt more than comfortable with their level of competence on this op.

And yet, something was bugging him. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Probably the whole DeAnne issue worming its way into his mission mentality. He hadn’t quite been able to banish his conflicting thoughts about her to the back of his mind, where they belonged during a dangerous mission. No doubt that’s what was niggling at him.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. The landing had been textbook, they’d made contact with Jaeger, and hopefully Julie Severin would be waiting with a car in the appointed spot, which they were fast approaching, along with unavoidable civilization.

Quinn signaled a halt a quarter mile from the perimeter of the jungle, and they stopped to powwow while they pulled off their NVGs and rehydrated.

“We should make the rendezvous right on time,” Quinn said quietly, consulting his watch after taking a long drink. “But we still need a plan of action. Anyone come up with a brilliant idea?”

“I say we do it old-school,” Zane said, gesturing with his water bottle. “A stickup on the transport vehicle, guns blazing. Grab him and run.”

Old-school was right. But the idea had merit—since they didn’t have time or equipment to set up anything more elaborate. In fact, it was probably about the only option.

“We’ll need intel on when they’re making the transfer,” Kip pointed out. “If we’re not already too late.”

“That would totally suck,” Zane muttered.

Kip smiled. The kid was a man of many contrasts. He had a colorful vocabulary, but his speech patterns reflected a good education. Which matched the air of well-kept affluence about him, even dressed in BDUs. But those guarded eyes were windows into an uneasy depth that lurked well below all that surface stuff. Definitely not anything you’d want to meet in a dark alley.

Quinn got out his cell phone, set it to speaker so they could all hear, and punched in a number. A few seconds later, Jaeger answered.

“Yep.”

“How are those party invitations coming along?” Quinn asked.

“They’ve been delayed. Tanya’s got a sample for you.”

Which, decoded, meant Romanov was still being held at the naval base, the transfer was set for tomorrow, and Julie had the details.

“You seen them yet?”

“Just the basic design. Should have more tomorrow.”

Which meant he’d managed to find eyes in the sky somehow and was focused in on the naval base, but hadn’t spotted Romanov yet. Hardly surprising since he was being held indoors.

“Tanya still coming over tonight?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Sounds good. Talk to you later.” He hit the “off” button.

“I don’t like it,” Kip said with a frown.

The others looked over at him. “What’s bothering you?” Quinn asked.

“If the decision has already been made to transfer Romanov to Tiandu Prison, why wait until tomorrow afternoon? It’s only fifteen klicks between the two places. Not like the transfer needs a lot of preparation.”

They regarded each other somberly in the darkness. None of the possible reasons for the delay were pleasant to consider.

“If they’re torturing him, we’re screwed,” said Zane, voicing what they were all thinking. “We need him mobile.”

Quinn rubbed a hand over his chin, and the scratch of stubble broke the silence of the jungle. “Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “Well, we’ll ford that stream when we get to it. And carry him if we have to.”

Kip noticed that the water bottle in Zane’s hand was shaking slightly. Not a good sign. “You doing all right?” he casually asked.

“I’m good,” Zane answered, a little too fast.

Kip nodded, and stuck his own empty bottle back in his dry bag. “Of course, the other possibility is that they’re expecting a rescue attempt, and they’re busy setting up a trap for us.”

The two operators looked grim as they stowed their empties.

“Fuck that,” Zane said, and took off toward the road where they were supposed to meet Julie Severin.

“We’ll just have to be ready for them,” Quinn said, and moved off after him.

Right.

Kip thought briefly of the two PLA jeepfuls of soldiers he and DeAnne had barely managed to elude—how determined they’d been, and how gun-happy. And how badly they were going to want revenge on the man who’d played them for fools.

And then he wondered how damn many soldiers they’d send out to man their trap, if the Chinese had the slightest whiff of a plan to rescue their prisoner. A dozen? A hundred? A whole fucking battalion?

Oh, yeah. Five hundred to one. The three of them could definitely take on those odds and win, no problem.

Fucking piece of cake.