Crossfire (Book 1) (The Omega Group) (13 page)

Mirissa watched as her father used zip ties to secure the
unknown man to a heavy wood chair that was placed in the middle of the living
room. Once Han had brought him back, Ken took control of the hostage and now
held his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head.

So far, no one had asked him any questions and he hadn’t
uttered a single word.

Beck and Jackie were in the kitchen tending to Carter’s
wound. It was a simple through and through gunshot to the shoulder so they were
more than capable of handling it.

Once Steve was confident their prisoner wasn’t going
anywhere, he nodded to Myrine. Looking at Ken she said, “All right. It’s time
for you to do what you do best.”

Mirissa gripped the cushions of the couch. Although she
understood what was at stake, the thought of witnessing a man, even a bad one,
being tortured was more than she could take. She watched as Ken grabbed a small
black duffel bag from under the desk and brought it over to the chair. She
found it odd that he looked so calm when her heart was about to slam out of her
chest.

Kneeling at the man’s bound feet, Ken opened his bag and
drew out a black box, about the size of a small paperback book. Reaching up he
grabbed the man’s right hand and twisted it upwards until his palm was facing
the ceiling. He then took the black box and slapped it on the prisoner’s
upturned hand.

Her sharp intake of breath caused everyone in the room to
turn toward Mirissa, including the man strapped to the chair. Still holding the
couch cushion with a white knuckled grip, her eyes were wide with trepidation.

Myrick sat down beside her and placed one of his huge hands
over hers. “He’s just getting the man’s palm and finger prints, lass. Nothing
to fret about.”

As realization dawned on her, she felt her cheeks blush with
embarrassment.
Some badass I turned out to be,
she thought. Giving
Myrick a look that she hoped said both “thank you” and “please don’t ever bring
this up again” she took a deep breath and leaned back.

With an understanding smile, Myrine brought her attention
back to their prisoner. “While we’re waiting on the machine to do its thing,
why don’t you tell us why you were watching us tonight?”

The unknown man simply sat there, staring straight ahead.

“OK,” Myrine said. “Have it your way.”

A few seconds later Ken brought his laptop over to Myrine so
she could see what the fingerprint search had turned up.

“Mr. Grainger, you had an exemplary career in the army. You
retired with full honors and several commendations under your belt. What are
you doing mixed up with the likes of Daedric?”

Still no reaction from the man in the chair.

“You don’t seem to understand the predicament you’re in
here, Mr. Grainger. You
do not
have the right to remain silent. You
do
not
have the right to an attorney. Everything you say
will
be used
against you, but
not
in a court of law. And if you can’t afford an
attorney, we don’t give a rat’s ass.”

The prisoner let a smile curl his lips and turned his gaze
to Myrine’s. “So you know who I am. I also know who you are. I guess we’re
even. Can I go now?”

Myrine walked behind Grainger and gently put her hands on
his shoulder as she lowered her head to speak directly in his ear. “You will
tell us everything we want to know about your boss and his plans. The
alternative isn’t something you want to even think about.”

A short laugh escaped him. “Look. You can keep this little
charade up as long as you want, but we both know that you aren’t going to hurt
me. Your little girl pretty much gave that away. At worst, you’ll turn me over
to your pals at the CIA, who will then turn me over to the FBI, who will put me
in some federal country club where I’ll get a bed and three meals per day. Not
quaking in my boots,
your highness.
”

Myrine straightened up and moved to stand in front of her
prisoner. “Is that what you think? I thought you said you knew us. No, Mr.
Grainger, we aren’t going to turn you over to the CIA or the FBI or any other
agency for that matter. And, you’re right, we aren’t going to torture you
either. That’s just not who we are. What we are going to do is let you go.”

Pausing to let that sink in, Myrine watched as confusion
flittered through his eyes.

“In fact,” Myrine continued, “we’ll even be so kind as to
give you a ride. I’m sure Daedric would be most grateful to have you delivered
back to him by our agents without a scratch on you.”

Mirissa watched as an almost imperceptible change went
through the prisoner as the reality of his situation dropped on him like a ton
of bricks. His arrogance and surety was immediately replaced with fear, then
resignation. Daedric would never believe that he hadn’t betrayed him. Even if
by some miracle he did believe him, Grainger’s punishment for being captured
would be just as deadly.
  Nice move, Mom.

Hanging his head in the posture of a defeated man, Grainger
said, “I can’t tell you anything. He’ll kill her. My life is worth nothing, but
hers…”

Understanding seemed to dawn on Myrine at the same time as
everyone else in the room. “Who does he have, Bill?”

“Meghan. My wife.”

This time it was Steve that spoke. “I know what it’s like to
have the woman you love ripped out of your life. To go to bed every night
imagining all of the horrible things that could be happening to her, and to
wake up every morning knowing you can’t do anything about it. Believe me when I
tell you I understand. But what you need to understand is that we are your only
chance right now—your wife’s only chance. If you really do know who Myrine is,
then you know that she will do everything in her considerable power to get your
wife back. I won’t lie to you, the odds are against us, but if you do nothing,
you are guaranteed to lose her. Help us, and she has a chance.”

Grainger looked at Steve and then at everyone else in the room,
one by one. “All right, but you need to promise me that no matter what happens
to me, you will get my wife out.”

As each of her team nodded in agreement, Myrine made it
official. “You have our word.”

“There is one major problem.” Grainger looked almost
sheepish as he said it. “I already called in your location. Daedric’s team will
be here any minute, if they aren’t already.”

Switching to military commander mode, Myrine pointed to
Phoenix.

“Already on it, Myrine. Give me a second. OK, I’ve got a
host. Checking the perimeter now.”

While they waited on Phoenix to report on their situation,
Myrine told Steve to cut Grainger loose, and issued orders to the rest of her
team.

Mirissa waited to get her orders, but they never came. “You
are not hiding me away again, Mom. I’m not a kid anymore. Let me help.”

Before Myrine could answer, Phoenix interrupted. “We’ve got
company. I see about a dozen or so men covering the front of the house. They’re
heavily armed. There are four, no five, all-terrain vehicles closing in from
the north and south on the beach. Three black SUVs holding about six more guys
a piece are heading into the neighborhood now, too.”

Myrine looked at Grainger. “Do you know anything about that
team that will help us?”

“No. Daedric only said that they would be more capable than
me.”

Myrine continued her orders. “Myrick. You, Greco, and Steve
go to the garage and bring the rest of our weapons in here. Ken, make sure all
of our defenses are online and ready to go. Han, you and Asteria cover the back
while Orano, Jackie, and I cover the front. Carter, what’s your status?”

“I can hold my own but it’ll be a couple of days before I
can shift, thanks to dickweed over there.” Carter gave a droll stare to
Grainger who gave him a somewhat apologetic look in return.

“OK,” Myrine said, “you help cover the back. Phoenix, I’m
counting on you to keep us informed on their whereabouts. Beck, you stay with
my daughter. No matter what happens, you have to keep her safe. Understood?”

“I’ve got her back, Myrine. You don’t have to worry.” Beck
moved to Mirissa’s side like a bodyguard.

Before she could argue, Mirissa was rocked by a blast that
obliterated the front door. Bent steel twisted in a macabre pattern and shards
of glass and wood flew through the room toward her but were deflected by an
invisible shield emanating from Beck’s hands.
All right
, she thought.
You’ll
get no further argument from me.

Orano ran to the edge of the hole where the door used to be.
Swinging his body around to face whatever was on the other side, he flung his
arms like a baseball pitcher, releasing energy balls at their attackers,
covering Myrick, Greco, and Steve as they ran past the opening with their
supply of weapons. Once everyone was armed with their weapon of choice, except
for Orano who needed only his hands, they each took up their positions to
defend the house.

The bulletproof windows were still intact but wouldn’t hold
up under the assault for much longer. Pockmarked and cracking from the
continuous barrage of bullets, the protection they offered would be lost within
moments. The noise was deafening and Phoenix had to scream his updates on the
enemy’s position just to be heard.

Mirissa watched, helpless, as the living room window beside
Jackie was the first to go. It shattered under a hail of bullets as she
crouched low, covering her head. Ken was furiously typing on his laptop
keyboard and yelled, “D1 detonation in 3-2-1…”

A series of explosions in the front yard had the intruders
screaming and scrambling away from the house. Black smoke billowed into the air
and through the openings where the door and living room window used to be,
lowering visibility in the room to almost zero.

Gunshots could be heard in a never-ending stream from the
front yard, but they were no longer hitting the house. “They’re aiming at the
ground!” Ken screamed. “They’re taking out our defenses. D2 is offline. D4 as
well.”

Now it was Phoenix’s turn. “Watch the back! They’re coming
in hard and fast.”

Ken slammed his keyboard. “D5 in 3-2-1…”

Another series of explosions rocked the back yard, but this
time their enemy was ready for it. Only a couple of their soldiers were caught
in the blast and the rest continued their assault. Steve joined Asteria just as
her window disintegrated. With a quick nod, they both leveled their rifles on
the windowsill and returned fire.

Mirissa watched in horror as all hell broke loose in the
house. The windows were all but gone now and bullets were ricocheting
throughout the house. Ken had blood running down the right side of his face as
he worked the defense system as best he could. Orano kept his energy blasts
going even though he was covered in cuts and other injuries. Her dad, Asteria,
Carter, Myrick, Han—everyone—was fighting and bleeding. Everyone, that is,
except her. Beck’s shield was holding out every bullet and piece of shrapnel,
but it was also stopping her from joining the fight. As she took in her
surroundings she saw, too late, the red dot on her mother’s forehead, a
targeting laser from some unknown enemy outside. She tried to scream a warning,
but her words were lost in the maelstrom. Milliseconds before the floor lamp
behind Myrine’s head was blown apart, Grainger plowed into her mother, driving
her down to the ground.

Phoenix yelled, “They’re making a run for the house. We don’t
have much time!”

Nodding her thanks to Grainger, Myrine responded, “Is the
beach clear?”

“Yes. They’re all coming at us now.”

Myrine turned to Ken. “Blow everything we’ve got, Ken. We
need to buy some time. Everyone! Get to the tunnel. Now!”

In a cacophony of explosions from the remaining defense
systems outside, everyone ran to the kitchen. Yanking the pantry door open,
Myrick lifted the hidden hatch in the floor and held it open as, one by one,
the group dropped through. Letting her shield down so Mirissa could fit through
the hatch, Beck followed closely behind. Once everyone was in the tunnel,
Myrick jumped in and pulled the hatch closed behind him just as a group of men
entered the kitchen. “Go!” he yelled. “I’ll hold them off.” Firing his weapon upward
through the pantry floor, Myrick stayed behind as the others ran through the
tunnel.

********

It would take them about sixty seconds to reach the exit on
the beach, but, as a grenade fell from above, he knew he wouldn’t be able to
hold these guys off that long. Running as fast and as far away as he could,
Myrick covered his head and ears as the explosion tore through the tunnel.
Trying to shake off the effects of the concussion caused by an explosion in
such a confined place, he noticed a small stream of water pouring out of a
crack in the cement wall on his right. Leveling his rifle at the crack, he
emptied his magazine until the small stream turned into a deluge of water from
the pool that lay just outside. He knew there wouldn’t be enough water to fill
the tunnel, but it might slow them down enough to give the others a chance to
escape. Running through the water that was now more than a foot deep he wished
they’d built a larger pool. Swimming for him was so much faster.

Bullets ricocheted off the walls all around him as their
attackers shot blindly through the waterfall. They would come through it soon
and when they did he would be a sitting duck. Giving everything he had to
increasing his speed, he looked over his shoulder just as two men emerged from
the wall of water. They raised their rifles and Myrick knew he was finished.
The almost simultaneous muzzle flashes, the looks of satisfaction on the men’s
faces, then the... nothing. Did they miss? Turning back around, he saw Beck
standing ten feet away with her arms raised. Her shield had saved his life.

Running side by side, they reached the beach exit and joined
the rest of their group behind the rocks. Myrick gave Beck a quick wink and his
usual cheeky grin—his way of saying thanks.