One Minute to Midnight (Black Ops: Automatik) (14 page)

She ventured, “Breakfast in the lobby?”

“Not after their first night in bed.” A pang of unease hit his gut. “I think they’d split up to have their mornings. Shower, brush their teeth, all that ordinary stuff you don’t want to see after getting busy with a new hookup.” The idea of parting ways chilled him. Not just because he wanted days and days to discover her body. The whole town was heating up around them.

“We should be operating together.” She obviously understood the dilemma and chewed her bottom lip. “But I think you’re right on all points. She just wants to take a pee with the door open and catch up on social media.”

A laugh bubbled up through him. “Now I got that picture in my head. Thank you.”

“Any time, sailor.” She winked, picked up her bundled coat and tactical vest and walked to the door. He didn’t want her to go, but he opened it for her. They kissed one last time with her partly in the hallway. For show. And for them. Their connection. Their promise.

She sauntered down the hall. He watched her all the way to the elevator.

Bad things were happening in town. Things were going to get worse.

* * *

The man moved like shrapnel, closer to her heart with each rush of her blood. And the way her pulse raced with him, it would be all over for her soon. But was it dangerous? Was it death? It didn’t feel like it. Not the way she wanted more of him. More time to savor his skin and energy. His quick wit. The way he understood her and listened to learn more.

Mary sat alone in her room, in the way her alter ego would have, in accordance to Ben’s plan. But she wasn’t Mary Long. Instead of pretending to work on her laptop while surfing social media and checking prices on vacation airfare, she oiled her guns. The .38 and the 10mm were laid out on a microfiber cloth across the bed. She checked and rechecked the actions. The clicking metal was as comfortable as if she was cracking her own knuckles. The sights were still aligned the way she liked them, though she did most of her shooting instinctually now and could place her bullet on a dime at twenty paces with her eyes closed. She loaded the pistols and put them away before taking out her big single-shot break barrel.

The Barrett they’d found in the warehouse could reach out to a mile. She could touch and not be touched. But with the pistol’s short barrel, she’d be lucky to get half that distance. Though she wasn’t lucky. She was good. A sniper with a pistol. Stuck in a town full of menace. With Ben. At least there was a bright spot.

He messaged her phone, and she put the gun down.

Do you really golf?

She responded,
Like
a
sniper
.
Calm
,
cool
and
accurate
.

I suck at it. Can you teach me?

Her first instinct was to shut down more plans for the future, but her experience with Ben was starting to convince her that she needed to live.
I’ll
get
you
swinging
.

Some nice courses in SoCal. Can we get Harper in on it after my private lessons? He’s worse than me.

She was challenged further out of her solitude. The idea of socializing with her teammates lost some of the trepidation it usually stirred up. Ben helped bridge her. She answered,
First
thing
you
guys
need
to
do
some
yoga
to
loosen
your
hips
.

Her phone buzzed with another message. Automatik had run the information she and Ben had supplied. According to friendly on-base sources, the military was already aware of the missing shipments. They were actively looking and starting to make noise. She acknowledged the report and sent a message back, reiterating their need for a full assault team soon.

The response didn’t warm her heart:
First
insertion
after
midnight
.

She marked the time on her mental clock and responded,
Understood
.

The communication ended.

Ben messaged,
Gonna
be
a
long
day
.
I’ll
see
you
out
there
.
Stay
sharp
.

Always
, she replied.
You
,
too
.

She finished checking over her pistol before putting it away in its case and hiding it in the false compartment in her luggage, along with her tactical gear and 10mm. The metal wouldn’t be cold long. If the military knew the weapons were missing, then the gunrunners would get word. That was why they were on high alert, and it could explain the amount of private security who’d arrived over the last couple of days.

Her and Ben’s recon operation could turn quickly into a fight against the world. She’d been in those battles and had made it out. Any man who’d been a SEAL as long as he had must’ve, too. But it seemed so much more complicated because it was Ben. Not just a fellow soldier. A temptation. A hope for a future that contained pleasure and comfort and not just war.

She arranged herself in Mary Long’s clothes and headed out of her room. Her thoughts stormed behind her as she walked down the empty hallway. Ben was her teammate; she’d do anything to protect him. That hadn’t changed. But if any son of a bitch out there hurt him, she’d be particularly brutal with payback.

The idea of him being hurt drove heated anger high into her chest. She had to breathe it down before exiting the elevator in the lobby. Seeing Ben near the breakfast tables lit a different kind of fire in her. Down her belly and around her hips. Another breath barely calmed her. She didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to be out of that damn town and alone with Ben in a place where the time was theirs.

When she saw he talked to another man, her frustration receded and she went on alert. Ben and the man knew each other, but she didn’t recognize the Latino, who was a bit younger than Ben. Their casual postures didn’t reveal conflict. Ben spotted her and quickly moved his eyes away. He brushed his hand subtly across his thigh, flicking his fingers toward the door.

She understood and kept moving through the lobby. Who was Ben talking to? If he signaled her away, it must be trouble. She passed three men she remembered as hired security, drinking coffee and lounging in low chairs. They weren’t aware of the danger she felt. It was a poison cloud, sinking lower over the whole town. Only a matter of time until it took them all.

Chapter Fourteen

He was getting really tired of cold breakfasts of yogurt and cereal. But if he could endure living for a week on two days’ worth of MREs during a surveillance op on the Pakistan border, he could make it through this. Though a full spread of pancakes, bacon and eggs would’ve been much better if Mary was sitting across the table from him.

This morning’s brief text conversation with Mary had almost made him feel like a regular man talking to his woman until the Automatik status report interrupted them. He’d watched Mary’s responses pop up and knew she felt the clock ticking tight as well. Kit Daily and his crew would want to move the goods soon, so they weren’t all stacked in one place. Which was exactly why Automatik had to strike here and now. Midnight might be too late.

The way a man made his way directly across the lobby toward Ben, it seemed like the big dance was about to start. The Latino guy in a heavy flannel shirt and jeans was vaguely familiar, but Ben couldn’t place him. Definitely not from the teams, or Automatik. A genuine smile spread across the man’s face. He wasn’t there to fight.

“Whoa, I mean...” He seemed almost awestruck. “I didn’t know we had a genuine SEAL with us.”

Shit. He was a Navy man. Ben finally placed his face among the deck crew of the Shearwater, an aircraft carrier he and his team had used at times as a mobile base. Ben smiled back, despite the sense of dread that washed over him. “
Former
SEAL,” he corrected.

“Once you get that trident, like, does it ever go away?” The man extended his hand. “Lucas. Lucas Lara.”

“Yeah, from the Shearwater in the Mediterranean.” Ben shook his hand. “Ben Louis.”

“We never officially met, but I remember you and your Team.” Lucas beamed as he looked at Ben.

Mary appeared in the lobby, looking as fresh as if she’d slept all night and woken on a bed of rose petals. He’d already been made by Lucas and had to keep her as far out of the spotlight for now. He broke eye contact from Mary and motioned a signal he hoped she’d understand. Of course she did. Purposeful, but not hurried, she navigated through the lobby and out the front doors.

Lucas was oblivious. “I tried for SEAL training but never got accepted.”

Ben sat back down to his uninspiring breakfast. “If you still want the experience, douse yourself in cold water and eat a pound of sand.”

Lucas laughed, but a sadness haunted the backs of his eyes. “But I’m surprised we’d get a guy from the Teams on Pulaski’s run.”

“Pulaski’s what?” Things went from bad to worse. An irrational hope that Lucas had just happened to be passing through town slipped away, and Ben felt like he was starting to lose traction on the ground.

Lucas’s eyes went wide. He glanced around sheepishly and sat opposite Ben. “You’re not?” He winced and tried to explain. “It’s just part-time work for a local honcho. I’m taking shifts for a trucker going across country.”

“I’ve met Chief Pulaski.” Best to stay as honest as possible. “I didn’t know he was hiring for side jobs.”

“He’s retired Navy, like us.” Lucas gestured at himself and Ben, then vaguely at the other guys sitting in the lobby. “He does this a few times a year and helped me and some other dudes from the ship pick up gigs.”

Ben seethed inside. He needed to get this intel to Mary and Automatik. Pulaski was Navy. Daily the Marines. They pulled from their old contacts for the guns and the manpower to move and protect them. The fuckers abused their power and put citizens at risk. They put citizens in the ground.

The sadness in Lucas dragged his face down. “It’s my first time on the run. Hard to find good gigs these days.” He absently massaged a point in the front of his shoulder. An old injury? Probably the reason he wasn’t in the Navy anymore.

“Tell me about it, bro.” Ben maintained an outward cool while inside he was ready to tear down the whole town. “I’m out here hyping sports equipment for a company I didn’t start, I don’t own stock in...” He pulled one of the bracelets from his bag and gave it to Lucas. “Freebie, man. Maybe it’ll help with that shoulder.”

Lucas looked genuinely moved. “Thanks, Ben.” He slipped the bracelet on. “Big ol’ SEAL, I thought you’d be in the movies or something by now.”

Ben laughed. “I’m too pretty for Hollywood.”

“You’re too real, man.” Lucas fiddled with the bracelet and tested his shoulder. “Not like those plastic actors.”

Ben’s coffee was cool enough to taste how bad it was. “If I go to Hollywood, you be my agent.”

“Fuck yeah.” Lucas put out his fist, and Ben bumped it. “We’re trucking soon. You got to meet the other Shearwater guys. Might’ve been after your time, though.” He stepped away from the table and talked to a couple of the other men in the lobby, one white, the other looking Korean-American. They glanced Ben’s way with more curious caution than Lucas had shown.

Lucas returned to the table with the two men and made the introductions. “Ben, this is Frank and Chul.”

Handshakes all around.

Ben saw they weren’t as excited to meet him as Lucas was. “How’s it going, guys?”

They all went through the usual bullshit of talking about making a day wage and getting by and hardly being able to wait until bikini-wearing barmaids start throwing the icy beers their way in any beach town down the road.

Before the conversation strung too thin, Chul gave Lucas a pat on the back. “We should head out and report in.”

Chul and Frank receded, and Lucas lingered for a moment. “Good luck with the sales thing. I’ll see you in Hollywood, man.”

“Hell yeah, Lucas.” Ben shook his hand. “Ride safe.”

They parted ways, and Lucas bounded to his friends as they exited the hotel. Ben casually returned to his food. Nothing out of the ordinary. After a minute, he took out his phone and updated Automatik with what he’d learned. He informed them and Mary that he’d been recognized by a former Navy sailor. The news would flow quickly through town. The clock accelerated. It might become impossible to lie low and wait for the rest of the team. He needed to be operating with Mary. They needed to be ready on the trigger.

* * *

Morris Flats was a ghost town. Mary encountered no other cars as she drove what open streets she could. The police had blocked more intersections with cones and sawhorses, creating straight shots for the trucks into the train station where they could load up, then get directly on the highways that would take the guns to every corner of the country.

Ben’s latest message echoed like a rifle shot. He’d been identified. Now she understood why he’d waved her off at the hotel. He might’ve been compromised, but had kept her out of suspicion. For now. As soon as the information about his past made the rounds, everyone would look at her differently as well because they’d been seen spending so much time together. And with the town on lockdown the way it was, there was no telling what the gunrunners would do with unwanted variables.

She understood the connection between Pulaski and Daily as top dogs. They leveraged their military backgrounds for power. Anyone who didn’t follow their way was easily intimidated. Fitting then that a group of former military operators like Automatik would be the ones to drive a stake through the heart of their gunrunning operation.

But it was seeming less and less likely the strike team would show up in time. A full assault starting at the borders of Morris Flats would take too long and would alert Pulaski and Daily in advance. They’d be able to get guns out of town before the team hit the rail yard. That was where the fighting needed to start. And end.

Without Ben, she felt like she was orbiting off balance. They should be together now, covering each other’s backs. Now that he wasn’t trusted by the powers in control, nowhere would be safe for him.

She drove for another half kilometer and spotted the mayor and her husband parked near a blocked intersection. Their SUV doors were open and they stood in the street, the mayor on her phone. When Mary parked behind them, the mayor wrapped up her call and hung up but still clutched her phone. Her gaze bounced up the street and warily back to Mary.

Mary got out of her car, and Eddie approached with a smile and outstretched hand. “Well, this is no fun for you. You’ll have to come back in the summer when we’re all in our backyards grilling.”

She shook his hand, and then Donna Limert’s, before giving a nearby traffic cone a light kick. “Seems like this is more than just road work.”

The mayor waved off her concerns. “That’s just the easiest explanation. Chief Pulaski runs his men through these drills, and they all get very excited. Cars and trucks make a little bit of noise through town, and then it’s all over.” She smiled without conviction. “Really, no big deal at all.”

Mary ventured, “If any prospective buyers see it, we can just upsell it as an active and attentive police force.”

“I like that, Mary.” Donna still glanced up and down the street. “I’ll bet you could sell me a snow cone in February.”

Eddie chuckled, but his neck remained tense.

Radio voices blurted from inside the open SUV. Police chatter. “Squared away north of Maple.”

“Outstanding.” It was Chief Pulaski. It should’ve been a dispatcher.

Mary split her attention between the radio and the mayor. “Catch me on a day when I’ve had a couple of cups of coffee. I’ll sell you your own house and take Eddie’s commission.”

The Limerts looked like smiling mannequins. Beneath the plastic grins, they rotted just like Kit Daily and Pulaski, making the acid churn in Mary’s gut.

The police chief continued on the radio. “Car 77, break off. We’re taking on water and need to right the ship.”

He sounded more like a Navy man than a cop, and his vague metaphor couldn’t be good news. He was ordering his men on some sort of damage control mission.

A man’s voice responded, “Copy. Rolling in one minute.”

Worry started to crack through Donna’s usual polish, though she tried to remain bright. “See, those guys really know what they’re doing. If you do a zip code search for this area, you’ll see there are very few crimes.”

Eddie added, “And a great ratio of officers to citizens. A lot of protection.”

Protection for the gunrunning. “That’s a huge concern for potential buyers.” What assignment had Pulaski given car 77? And where was Ben?

The officer from car 77 announced, “We’re going out on a 10-29.”

Mary tightened when she heard the police code for a check for warrants. It gave them rein to stop whoever they wanted and question them. They were hunting. And there’d been a target on Ben’s back since he’d confronted those cops on his first night in.

Pulaski answered, “Keep sharp. Unknown variables, right?”

“Roger that.”

The radio quieted, but the voice inside Mary’s head screamed for her to get out of there and help Ben. She maintained a smooth exterior. “I guess today’s not the day to find a coffee shop to read in.”

The mayor seemed relieved to be rid of Mary. “Probably just want to hang out at the hotel until all the excitement dies down.”

Eddie nodded in agreement, maintaining his artificial grin.

Mary acquiesced with a wave and headed to her car. It was a struggle not to run, slam her door and screech away into the town. But she walked at a normal pace and pulled out her phone. Once in the car she messaged Ben, warning him of trouble coming.

No answer.

Driving through town looking for him would be a bad idea. The police were searching and could wrap up her and Ben in one maneuver if they wanted. She needed to operate on her terms.

She hung a U-turn and cruised back to the hotel. Not to sit and read, but to gear up and get to the high ground where she could find Ben and protect him.

Her heart pounded. The trigger had been pulled, and the hammer was falling.

* * *

Ben had felt backed into a corner at the hotel. Word would be out about him, and he didn’t want to sit and wait for the fallout in a building with too many blind spots and less-than-ideal egress. But driving on the Morris Flats streets wasn’t much safer. Blocked intersections locked the town down into a maze with no escape. The ramifications of him being identified as a former SEAL hadn’t caught up to him. But they would, and he had to be ready.

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket with a message from Mary. Before he had a chance to park and check it, a police car swung around a group of traffic cones on a side street and lined up directly behind him. Their lights weren’t rolling, and there were no sirens. If he pulled over now, he’d look guilty.

Maintaining the speed limit, he cruised through town, hoping to find a bar or restaurant where he could park and go in as justification for being out. But everything was shuttered. The citizens knew who the streets belonged to.

After two blocks of driving extra cautiously, but finding no exits from the road or places to park, he saw the police lights turn on behind him. The siren chirped once. He was already pulling to the curb when a voice commanded, “To the right and stop the engine.”

He complied and kept both hands in plain view on the steering wheel while watching the angry cop and another he recognized from the rec center step out of the car behind him. The partner took up a defensive position at the sidewalk to cover the scene.

Angry cop strode toward Ben’s car with his hand ready over his service pistol. He reached Ben’s open window but didn’t venture too close. “License, registration and proof of insurance.”

It was a bullshit stop. Ben hadn’t done anything wrong. But he knew better than to argue just then. “License and insurance are in my wallet.” He slowly pulled it from his back pocket and removed the cards for the cop.

The more ghostly members of Automatik had supplied him with a New Jersey driver’s license and other relevant IDs for this op. But how far did the fake identity go? Or were the local police even interested in running his info at all? Most likely they were just looking for a reason to make things deadly.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of breaking a law.” Ben kept his voice even.

Angry cop just stared at his ID, then back at Ben’s face. “Registration.”

“It’s a rental.” Ben shrugged.