Firestorm: Book III of the Wildfire Saga (51 page)

Danika glanced at the door, ten feet away over Jayne's shoulder—she heard voices in the hallway.
 
She couldn't make out what was said, but she caught the word "harbor".
 
Reginald must have discovered her little surprise in Uig—she tried to calculate how long it would be before he uncovered her handiwork at the security outpost.
 
Would Cooper and his team slip through before then?

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” muttered Jayne as she fingered the stopper on the crystal decanter.
 
She struck a graceful pose despite the blood smeared in her hair and on her face, her cut up shoulder, and torn dress.
 

“I’m not thirsty,” Danika muttered, the warmth from the fire behind her warming her back.
 
She shifted the poker back to a two-handed grip.
   
Jayne, despite her calm demeanor, looked as spent as Danika felt.
 
It's now or never.

“Oh, but I insist!” shouted Jayne as she flung the decanter in a wide arc.

Time slowed as Danika watched the crystal sail through the air in slow motion.
 
She calculated the angle and realized in a heartbeat it wouldn't come close to hitting her.
 
That doesn't…shit!
 
The fire!
 

Danika dove to the floor as the brandy sailed past her and into the open maw of the crackling flames.
 
The decanter shattered and an explosion of alcohol-fueled flame belched into the room.
 
Fire licked at the exposed skin between her shoulder blades, forcing her to roll toward Jayne.
 
She ignored her now-smoldering dress and clambered to her feet, snatching the poker on her way up.

“Damn it.”
 
The sour odor of burnt hair tickled her nose as she stared at the open door and absently slapped out the fire that threatened to consume what was left of her dress.
 
Glad Reginald favors expensive silks.
 
If this had been a cheap synthetic, I'd have gone up like a torch.
 

Jayne had escaped.
 

Danika rushed forward, her bare feet slapping on the floor.
 
She was almost to the door when a guard stepped through, his pistol drawn.
 
She slipped on her own blood and skidded to a stop before him.

“Mistress Svea," he said, recoiling at the sight before him.
 
His eyes moved past her to the remains of Reginald's study.
 
"What the bloody hell—?”

Danika lunged across the last few feet of open space between them and swung the poker in a vicious backhanded strike.
 
The iron bar struck the man's temple with a resounding crack of metal on bone.
 
His eyes rolled up as he dropped to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.
 
As the shock of the impact made her arm temporarily numb, she let the poker clatter to the floor next to him.

She stooped to pick up his pistol and racked the slide, ensuring there was a round in the chamber.
 
“Thank you,” she said to the dead man.
 
She adjusted the halter-top front of her dress and hissed at the pain in her side.

Lifting the charred, bloody hem of her dress with her free hand, Danika carefully stepped over the body and went to find Reginald.

C
HAPTER
41

Skye, Scotland.

Dunkeith Castle.

C
OOPER
GLANCED
AT
THE
picturesque silhouette Dunkeith Castle across the lake.
 
Loch
, he reminded himself.
 
The Scots call them lochs…

He adjusted his binoculars and scanned the crenelations, picking out the guards in his enhanced night vision optics.
 
Numbers in the bottom right corner of his field of view indicated he was a little less than 500 yards away. Right where he needed to be.

He moved his head incrementally to the right.
 
"Any contact with the Brits?" 

"SAS confirms they received our coordinates and are in position.
 
RAF sent word to Command—they have drones on standby at our disposal.
 
Two of 'em, loaded with Hellfires.
 
We got four shots," replied Charlie in the darkness that enveloped the world outside Cooper's glowing optics.

Cooper turned back and peered through the pines along the west bank of the loch.
 
He raised his binoculars again and checked the range to target one more time.
 
From studying satellite imagery back onboard
Delaware
he knew Dunkeith Castle sat on a small peninsula, jutting out from the south end of the lake.
 

A small causeway connected the mainland to the peninsula and on this road sat four rectangular buildings that to the casual observer appeared to be tourist attractions and utility sheds.
 
The heat signatures were way off, however.
 
A drone overflight the day before had confirmed even at 3 o'clock in the morning, the buildings Cooper thought of as guard shacks were rife with activity and heat—consistent with security installations at high-profile targets he'd visited in the past.

Cooper focused the enhanced binoculars on the closest guard building.
 
It clocked in at just over 550 yards out.
 
The stark white exterior and thatched roof stood out like signs.
 
Probably fake thatch to convince the tourists,
he mused.
 
If it's not, more the better for us.
 
A Hellfire'll punch through that whole building in one shot.
 
Unless it's reinforced…

Cooper watched in silence as a side door opened and a figure stepped out to light a cigarette.
 
He easily spotted the small yet bright flare of light, magnified through his binoculars.
 

"Heads up, Striker.
 
We got live ones in those outer buildings.
 
Not too smart though, just spotted one lighting up a cancer stick."

"
Idiot
," muttered Jax's voice over the radio.
 
"
Don't he know he just ruined his night vision?
"

"I hear those things'll kill you…
" whispered Sparky.
 
Cooper had positioned the sniper a little further down the shoreline, high on a hill overlooking the loch, surrounded by pine trees.
 
From this vantage point Sparky sighted in and targeted the entire western half of the castle compound.
 

Sparky also had the all-important laser targeting system.
 
When Cooper gave the word, the sniper would hold that to his eye and paint the guard buildings with a laser.
 
The RAF drones orbiting above would use the laser to guide their missiles.

"All units reporting in," muttered Charlie in the darkness to Cooper's left.
 
"Our friends are waiting for your signal."

"Striker, 2-1 Actual, Overwatch
," said Sparky.
 
"Got a small convoy of vehicles leaving the castle town, heading north."

"Shit," muttered Cooper.
 
He swiveled the binoculars south until the headlights of the lead vehicle came into view.
 
"Overwatch, I count seven vehicles.
 
Looks like six cargo vans—how copy?"

After a brief pause, Sparky's voice returned to Cooper's bone phone set in his ear.
 
"Affirmative, Actual.
 
Lead vehicle looks like a passenger van, remaining five look like creepers.
"

In the darkness, Cooper turned to his left.
 
Charlie's silhouette moved, rustling some brittle pine needles on the forest floor.
 
"SAS just checked in—they don't know anything about it either, man."

"All units, Actual," Cooper whispered.
 
"Hold your fire."
 
He hated giving the command, now that everyone was in place and ready for action, but this was an unexpected complication—he wasn't about to risk the mission over something that could be a trap.

"Coop," Charlie hissed, "signal from
Delaware
.
 
Command just offered SIGINT: they believe the convoy could be carrying another Council HVT.
 
They came from Inverness—assets on the ground spotted several armed men in each.
 
I think we're looking at some reinforcements."

Cooper clenched his jaw.
 
"Who's the HVT?" he asked, zooming in on the lead van as it rolled up the long, sinewy gravel driveway to the castle.

"Actual, Overwatch.
 
I have at least five heat spikes in each of the vans…"
reported Sparky.
 
"Thermal's lit up like Christmas over there, man."

"According to SAS," relayed Charlie, "the HVT is one Anna-Maria Brunner, some aristocrat from Austria.
 
They're not sure if she arrived earlier or if she's in one of the vans.
 
Could be looking at an official rendezvous."

"What's the word from Command?" asked Cooper.

"They want us to bag her, too," replied Charlie.

That was good enough for Cooper.
 
"All units, Actual—prepare to begin the attack on my mark."
 
He switched frequencies.
 
"Overwatch—paint the guard buildings, dealer's choice."

"
Roger that,"
was Sparky's response.

Cooper watched through his binoculars as an infrared beam appeared over the calm waters of the loch and reached out to touch the closest guard building.
 
It held steady.
 

The man enjoying his cigarette smoke walked right through the beam, oblivious to the invisible threat it posed.
 
He strolled along the length of the building, then leaned against the corner, blowing smoke into the air.
 

"You're about to have a shitty day…" muttered Cooper.

"Target locked,
" said Jax.
 
"
I got good tone,
" he muttered.
 
"
Firing in three, two, one…missile away
."

"
Holding steady…
" announced Sparky.
 

Cooper stretched his hearing to pick up the sound of the missile as it streaked down from the heavens through the low cloud deck.
 
He heard only a faint
whoosh
a split-second before the entire guard shack disappeared into a ball of fire and flaming debris spreading out over the loch.

"
Shifting target
," reported Sparky as the muffled explosion reached Cooper's ears.

"Good kill, multiple secondaries," reported Charlie from his position to Cooper's left.
 
"Hey, you're not gonna believe this…" Charlie laughed.
 
"That guy with the cigarette made it out!"

"Missile two away,
" called out Jax.

"Bravo, Actual—stop those vans!" called out Cooper.
 
"All units, proceed with your attack!"

Cooper ignored the chorus of confirmations that echoed over his headset and focused on Jax as he and Sparky shifted their aim to the third building and let loose another unseen missile from the skies.
 
The second building exploded much like the first, showering the road and driveway with flaming bits of debris and burning thatch.
 

Guess it was real straw…

Cooper frowned as the lead van sped straight into the wreckage despite the withering fire from SAS commandos in the tall grass along the causeway.
 

The next missile decapitated the third guard shack in a spectacular fireball.

"Oh damn!  That guard just bought the farm.  You ran into the wrong building, buddy..." laughed Charlie.

"Actual, Bravo Six—be advised: that lead lorry's built like a tank!
 
Can't bloody stop it!"

"Bravo six, Overwatch.
 
Painting the lead van now—I got something for it,
" said Sparky.

"Good tone…hold it steady…missile away!"
added Jax.

"Actual, Bravo is moving to target."

Cooper slipped his binoculars inside his waterproof gear bag.
 
"That's our cue.
 
Let's go."
 
He swiveled in position and felt his legs hang out over the embankment that rolled down to the water.
 
One hand on his rifle, the other on his dive fins, Cooper pulled his arms tight to his chest and slid down the sandy slope.
 
His feet hit the water's edge with a quiet splash and found purchase among the rocks hidden in the water.
 
Even through the thick combat dive suit, he felt the chill of the loch's waters envelop him.
 
Charlie splashed in to his left.