Operation Zulu Redemption: Hazardous Duty - Part 3 (14 page)

Waiting at a private airstrip abutting Dulles International Airport provided ample opportunity for doubts to breed on the fertile soil of fear. Rubbing her knuckles as they waited for the Leer jet, Téya reminded herself that she couldn’t trust The Turk. Which meant this was probably a trap. But she had to take one for the team, for Trace and for Zulu.

What if I die on this mission?

She’d asked that on every deployment, but this was different. This had her deliberately walking into a booby-trapped mission.

“This is insane,” Nuala hissed as she sidled up to her in front of the bank of windows overlooking the airstrip. “You realize this is probably a trap.”

Of course it was a trap. Why else would The Turk’s people ask
her
to break into a facility when they clearly had the skill, manpower, and know-how to become a notorious organization? If they could find out about her past, a record that Houston confirmed did not exist in her permanent file. . .then why her?

“You realize they’re probably going to try to kill you.”

There are easier ways to kill me
.

Nuala’s frantic pacing rubbed the raw edges of Téya’s nerves. “No. No, they won’t kill you. There are easier ways to get rid of you—a Remington 700 among them.”

“Plane just landed,” Rusty Gray said as he came toward them.

“It’s nice to work with you again.” Téya smiled at the former Special Forces operator. “Surprised Boone convinced you.”

“They’re paying me well.” Rusty lifted a rucksack from a vinyl chair. “Ready?”

They were paying him. But not well. Rusty was here because Boone wouldn’t leave Keeley’s side, and most likely, Rusty offered to come in Boone’s place. “You’re a good man, Rusty Gray.”

The guy had a Stephen Amell look happening that totally worked for him, especially with the brooding soldier attitude. Hoisting the ruck onto his shoulder, he started for the door. “Let’s go.”

She followed him across the tarmac and up into the belly of the Leer. He hesitated just inside the door, and Téya saw why. Two of the six seats were already occupied. Behind her, she felt Nuala crowding to get a view.

“Have a seat, Mr. Gray,” said the woman wearing a hijab.

Beside her sat a man in an untucked, pin-striped button-down shirt and skinny jeans. He grinned unabashedly at them. His dark brown eyes met hers. “Let’s get this party started, Miss Reiker.”

Did they have a choice? They’d already stepped inside, not only in the jet, but in the trap. They’d had it set, fully coiled, and now they’d sprung it.

Téya restrained the sigh that wanted to escape, grateful when Rusty moved past them and let Téya find a seat. Was it intentional on Rusty’s part that he took the aisle seat, leaving her and Nuala by the windows? Protected. As if seat position alone could guarantee that.

No, Téya was quite aware that she had been at the mercy of The Turk’s organization since the Roma slums. Maybe even before. They had her ticket, her entire life’s itinerary planned. She was merely the pawn.

“I do not like this,” Nuala whispered loudly.

Rusty said nothing. Neither did Téya. She wanted to sleep. Wanted to be unconscious so she didn’t spend the next umpteen hours stressing over which would be her last. When they’d decide they’d had enough fun and kill her.

For Trace. For Zulu. She’d do this for them.

What guarantee did she have that they would make good on their promise to write that Get Out of Jail Free card for Trace?

None. I just have to believe they will.
He’d done so much for Zulu, for each team member, sacrificing years to protect them. Attempting this was the least she could do, especially in light of the fact that someone was trying to take him down again.

Téya buckled in, pressed her head against the rest, and closed her eyes. Somehow, she dozed off quickly until a steady drone of quiet conversation lured her out of sleep’s strong grip.

“. . .yes, but without a cold zero, you can’t be sure of the trajectory,” Nuala was saying.

Opposite her, the gregarious guy was angled toward Nuala, chatting. He shifted toward Téya and his eyes widened. “Ah, you’re awake.”

Straightening in her seat, she rubbed the back of her neck, eyeing the two of them. How long had she slept? “Where’s Rusty?”

“Went to the loo,” the man said. He then laughed. “And no, I’m not British. I think that’s just a better word than saying toilet.”

Téya crossed her legs and tucked her hands there, hating the chill that seeped through the artificially cooled and oxygenated cabin. Hating that she had no idea who this man was or why he was with them.

Nuala rolled her eyes, careful to make sure the man didn’t see her as she shifted toward the window.

“I’m afraid I’ve chatted her ears clean off,” the man said. He was way too happy. Way too chatty. “I’m sure she’s glad you woke up so she doesn’t have to talk to me anymore.”

Téya would not let him dictate their feelings or situations. “Why aren’t you going after your master?”

“It’s far more fun to have you do it,” he said. Then laughed again. “I’m not going to risk my life breaking into a facility like that.”

“Like what?”

The man gave her a knowing but superior look. “No doubt you did research on the Impossible Fortress before you boarded this jet.”

She held his gaze but did not affirm his supposition, even though he was right. Of course they researched it. Who wouldn’t do their homework on a mission like this?

“What your research didn’t tell you, I’m sure, is that the Impossible Fortress has been an underground base for a group known as Red Wing.”

Téya’s nerves tightened. Red Wing. Jessie had that on her data wall.

“Yes,” the man said with quiet confidence. “You’ve heard that name, haven’t you?” When she didn’t answer, he scooted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees. “I can see why he let you live. You have a will of iron and a spine of steel. Do not be afraid that you will be giving away secrets, Miss Reiker. I know that you have an information wall that bears the words
Red Wing
. I know it has come up before.”

“Telling me things like that does nothing for breeding confidence.”

He chuckled then accepted a snifter of amber liquid the flight attendant handed him. He tossed back a swallow and leaned into the leather seat. “I do not seek to breed confidence. It is understandable that you do not trust us.” He shrugged, looking over his shoulder at the woman, who worked on a laptop, her small lips and stern brow giving her a severe aura. Or maybe that was just the woman herself. He slumped back against the chair, slouching slightly, as he lifted the snifter. “We do not need your trust. Only your raw skill.”

“For what? You have everything you need. Your organization is well known—”

“No.” His lighthearted, annoying attitude diminished as he came forward again. Ferocity filled his brown eyes. “No, that is where you are wrong. We do not have everything we need.” Then a one-shouldered shrug as he tipped his snifter toward her. “Unless you are speaking of yourself in that context.” His arms went wide. “For this mission, the vital, integral aspect is singular. It’s you. There is no one on this planet with the experience you have.”

“I was seventeen. I snuck in, blindly following nothing but luck.”

“No.” He shook his head with a laugh. “You are wrong again. It was not luck, Miss Reiker, but instinct. And we need those instincts.”

“Have you tried already to get in?” Nuala asked. “Is that why you’re coming to Téya now? Because you tried and failed?”

A soft noise came from the woman who sat up one seating group. She was shaking her head gently, and while she never joined the conversation or looked over at them, Téya knew that the theory Nuala put forward, while sound, wasn’t what was happening here.

“Good, Miss King,” he said. “You are considering everything. That will serve you well.” His gaze returned to Téya, and though he’d given Nuala a nod of encouragement over her idea, his gaze now was filled with. . .derision.

Annoyance.

Rusty dropped hard into the chair beside Téya, the leather hissing loudly as he adjusted.

The noisy intrusion had been intentional on his part. “Trying to steal national secrets, Nesim?”

“Nesim?” Téya repeated. But the man in the garage was named Nesim.

The chatty operative gave her a nod and lifted his snifter to her. “At your service, Miss Reiker.”

“How many people are named Nesim?”

He grinned. “She’s not,” he said pointing to the stern-faced woman, then pushed out of his seat and returned to his compatriot.

“Why exactly are we going to this place?” Rusty asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Because they want us to.” For whatever reason, she didn’t know. But they were going. She just prayed they’d come out of it alive.

Tucked in a van two miles from the bottom of the cliff-like setting, Téya had donned a black tek-insulated jacket and jeans. In her hand, she held a hood that would conceal her identity, as the initial recon of the fortress showed an incredible increase in the number of security cameras.

“Houston, you up?” Rusty asked as he accessed remote feeds.

“Copy that,” Houston said, his voice tickling in the tiny wire planted just inside her ear canal. Tiny enough to work but not to be seen. “I’ll be with you the whole time, lucky duckling.”

Téya rolled her eyes. “Guessing Nesim was right,” Téya muttered, watching as the small drone camera zoomed in and zipped up the cliff.

“What’s that?” Rusty asked as he manned the drone and recorded it on the small laptop he’d brought, compliments of Houston.

“He said the fortress was an underground base for some group.”

“Red Wing,” Nuala put in.

Téya nodded. Memories of this place were as dark and forbidding as the ominous image streaming through the live feed. Little vegetation aside from the small shoots that jutted out of the rocks. Almost no grass. Her mind skipped to the cemetery a mile north of the fortress. That’s where everyone hung out. Partied. Did other things teens shouldn’t be doing but thrived on because it drove parents insane and made the teens feel invincible.

At least a hundred feet, almost straight up. She’d never been daunted by heights and it wasn’t the height that bothered her. It was what lay at the top. The Turk. Was he really up there? She had more than an inkling of doubt.

He couldn’t want to capture her—too elaborate of a ruse. No, she had a distinct feeling he wanted her here for a reason. Not Annie. Not Nuala. Her. Téya Reiker.

And it still rattled her cage—how had he known she’d broken in here?

A light rap against the van’s hull came, and Téya knew she had no more time to think through it all. It was time.

The rear door opened and Rusty stiffened. Darkness swallowed the man who stood there, dressed in black from head to toe. Nesim II, she nicknamed him. The late hour made him appear larger and more ominous than he really was.

He wagged his fingers at her, motioning her from the van.

Rusty hopped out, crowding into Nesim’s space as he whispered something. Nesim patted Rusty’s chest and gave him a thumbs-up. “Ready?” he asked Téya as she stepped into the night. They jogged to the base of the incline. It was her responsibility to lead Nesim inside and help him get back out alive.

But things had changed. Like the electric fence that had replaced the aged, holey chain-link fence she’d crawled through as a teen.

Nesim had come prepared. He crouched at the fence and shifted a small box around in front of him. He connected something to the fence. After a small hiss of electricity, he started cutting up the fence, one piece at a time.

“You knew that was electrified.”

He said nothing but finished working, creating a hole. Enough for them to crawl through. He gave her a nod, and she slipped through. Maybe once Nesim got focused on a mission, he wasn’t as chatty. She was grateful for that. When he talked, no more than a couple of minutes ticked by before he shattered some misconception she’d held. And right now, she didn’t need any more shattering.

They climbed over a bed of boulders that lined the bottom of the sheer rock face. Téya took a second to scan up along the steep incline. Moonlight spotlighted the craggy face of the hill, daring her to try. Warning her she’d fail.
Was I crazy when I did this at seventeen?

“Second thoughts?”

Téya shifted. Swung her gaze to Nesim, her mind ricocheting off his words. Her boyfriend had said the same thing to her ten years ago. Back then, she’d flashed a smile at Ruzgar, who stood by the cemetery with the others, and grabbed the first hold, placing her foot on a flat-topped boulder. And the one beside her had a nice, swollen curve.

Wrong place. Téya glanced around and moved down three feet, finally locating the right one. Nesim watched her intently, probably second-guessing her change in position. That was fine. He could second-guess all he wanted. When they made it topside, he’d know. She climbed up on the rock and immediately found the first hold. Just like before.

So that was easy. She didn’t dare believe the rest would be. If it went easily, then she was in more trouble than she realized. The trap was bigger. The fall would be harder.

Okay, God. . .this is where I could use some help
. But would He help?

She’d prayed more in the last several years thanks to the simplification of life in Bleak Pond and the faith that helped the people she loved. But since Trace had yanked her back into the life of a soldier, she’d done things that went against the faith. Would God forgive her? Would He help her as she did something that broke laws?

Téya shoved the thoughts aside and focused on getting solid holds. Digging her fingernails into dirt and clinging on for dear life. Behind her, Nesim did the same, following her lead, gripping the same places she did. Her arms and thighs ached as she climbed. It took more than thirty minutes to make it to the top. She dragged herself over the ledge, experiencing the same exhilaration she had ten years ago that she hadn’t inadvertently committed suicide that night.

“Phew,” Houston’s voice tickled in her ear. “I’ve got the fly drone hovering above you, and I’m telling you—if I were on the rock, I’d have to change my pants by now.”

Téya wanted to groan, but then Nesim would know she was bugged.

“Twice,” Houston clarified. “Heights and I have a love-hate relationship. I’d rather throw them off a cliff.”

His humor was as bad as his flirting.

Téya glanced over the side and watched the agile Nesim scaling the rock as if he were a spider. And it struck her then, her sedated pleasure fading, as her mind slid into the past—why hadn’t she seen Tara following her?

Because I wasn’t looking at Tara.
She glanced to the cemetery where Ruzgar had watched.

Returning to the present, Téya rolled onto her back and then onto all fours, moving out of the way as Nesim came over the ledge. Téya crouched to the side as he sat on the ledge, huffing.

She swatted his shoulder, silently telling him they should get moving, and stood. When he grunted, as if pained, she frowned at him.

Nesim pulled to his feet awkwardly.

Was he clumsy? Already exhausted? “Maybe you should’ve sent Nesim the First, if this is too much for you.”

Even in the dark, she saw the glare in the whites of his eyes as he flattened himself to her right. “Up?” He said pointing to a pipe that protruded from what looked like a blasted section of the granite.

“This way,” she said, pressing the front of her body against the rock and shimmying around an outcropping that could easily toss them to their deaths if a piece broke away.

His fingers grazed her as she cleared the curve.

Téya made it, glancing down to verify she was in the right spot. The ledge was much narrower than she remembered. In fact, as she looked at the rock beneath her feet, she realized it’d broken. No, it was too clean of a break. That had been—blasted. They’d set charges and destroyed the space. Probably right after she’d broken in.

The moonlight caressed the ledge, seeming to highlight a vein. A deep one.

Crack
.

Her heart vaulted into her throat. “Wait.”

Nesim froze.

“There’s a crack.” She pushed her spine against the cold granite. “I’m not sure it can hold us both.”

“Where’s the entrance?” he asked.

Téya glanced up and over her shoulder. “Oh no,” she groaned. She’d used a sewer grate to haul herself up, then pried it open and crawled into the reeking space. But now, the grate was gone. In its place, a steel door.