Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (28 page)

A
display flickered and a satellite image appeared, Child zooming into the condo
building, nothing distinguishable.

“Just a
second.”

The
image changed, a hazy bluish green replacing everything. Leroux caught
something out of the corner of his eye. “Pan right.”

The
image shifted and he smacked his forehead.

“Is that
them?”

Morrison
put a hand on Leroux’s shoulder. “If I know Agent White, I’d have to say yes.”

Leroux
closed his eyes.

Why
did I have to fall in love with a woman with a death wish?

West Pratt Street, Baltimore, Maryland

Sherrie looked at Fang. “Ready?”

Fang
nodded and Sherrie took aim, pulling the trigger. The grappling gun fired, the
coiled spring sounded almost cartoonish, the rope piled on the ground beside
her rapidly playing out as it sailed from the top of the building they were on
to the condo unit across from them.

The end
slammed into the concrete rooftop, embedding itself firmly. She pulled the rope
tight, tying it off then hooking herself on. “See you on the other side.”

She
stepped off and enjoyed the ride, it the quickest and safest way into the
building. Her vehicle was fully equipped, she choosing it from the motor pool
specifically for that fact, knowing full well they might have to rescue the
hostages on their own. Entering the condo was risky because they didn’t know if
the doorman could be trusted, and they couldn’t ride the elevator to the top,
it guarded. That would have meant stairs and time.

But a
flash of her FBI badge in the building across the street had them heading
swiftly for the roof, and now sliding across to their target building.

Less
than five minutes.

Her
boots hit the concrete and she squeezed the brake hard, killing her momentum
then disconnecting herself. She glanced back and waved, Fang already leaping
off the other building.

No
fear.

Sherrie
held the line until Fang cleared the edge of the roof then headed for the door.

Locked.

She
planted a small charge as Fang joined her.

“I get
the impression you’ve done that before.”

Fang
nodded. “Standard training in the People’s Liberation Army Special Forces.”

Sherrie
guided Fang away from the door. “Remind me not to underestimate them.”

“You’d
be wise not to.”

Sherrie
triggered the device, the lock shredded an instant later.

She
reactivated her comm.

“Control,
Freebird. Any indication our hostiles just heard that?”

“Freebird,
Control Actual. Good to hear comms are working again.” Sherrie gave Fang a
“busted” look, her boyfriend’s response dripping with sarcasm. “Negative on any
movement, you’re clear, over.”

“Entering
the building now. Can you kill the power?”

There
was a pause. “Affirmative, let us know when.”

“Stand
by.”

Fang
pulled open the door and Sherrie took point, her Glock drawn. There was a small
landing then another door, it unlocked. She pulled it open, a set of stairs
revealed. She glanced over the railing and could see no one. She paused to
listen.

Nothing.

She took
the steps two at a time, stopping at the penthouse level door.

“Freebird,
Control Actual. We’ve got movement. One of the hostiles is heading for the
bedroom with a weapon drawn, over.”

“Shit!”
Sherrie glanced at Fang as she screwed a suppressor in place. “Ready?” Fang
nodded, twisting her own onto the end of her Glock. “Control, stand by on those
lights.”

“Roger
that, standing by.”

She
yanked open the door and Fang burst through, Sherrie directly behind her,
weapon raised as Fang took the right side, she the left. Two pops sounded from
Fang’s weapon then she shifted aim slightly, following it up with two more
quick shots.

The
hallway targets were down, Sherrie not having fired a shot.

I’m
glad she’s on my side.

They
continued to rush forward in silence. Fang covered them as Sherrie checked the
downed men’s vitals.

Both
dead.

She
activated her comm as she tossed a charge to Fang who immediately began to set
it on the door to the Penthouse suite. “Control, ready on those lights?”

“Affirmative.”

“Kill
the lights, now.”

The
hallway went dark, emergency lights kicking in as Fang activated the explosive
device, blasting the lock, the door swinging open. Sherrie flipped her night
vision goggles down and swiftly entered the room, three targets plainly
visible. She took the first target in her arc, eliminating him with a
double-tap to the chest.

“Kill
them!” shouted one of the targets, clearly shouting instructions to the other
room with the hostages. Two shots fired to her left, one of the targets going
down by Fang’s hand as she fired two more into the third.

“Langley,
have the hostages moved?”

“Negative.”

She
visualized the image from the drone as she raised her weapon, advancing on the
closed bedroom door.

A woman
screamed.

A man
shouted.

And
Sherrie prayed.

She
squeezed the trigger, firing round after round in an arc from left to right,
all at shoulder height. Holes tore through the drywall separating the rooms,
another scream from a woman, then a thump of something hitting the floor. She
grabbed the doorknob and pushed against the door, something blocking it. She
stuck her weapon then head inside and looked down at the floor, breathing a
sigh of relief.

It was
the fourth hostile, bleeding from a hole in his neck.

He
groaned, then tried to raise his weapon. She pulled her second Glock and pumped
three rounds into him, shoving hard against the door. Sweeping the room, Fang
watching the door, she looked at the two clearly terrified hostages, and
remembered they could see nothing.

“Control,
turn the power back on, over.”

She
flipped up the goggles, Fang doing the same, just as the overhead light
flickered on. The panicked woman stared at her then Fang, clearly still
terrified. Fang cut them loose and Sherrie knelt in front of them.

“Take it
easy, you’ve probably been sitting awhile; let’s get the circulation going
first.”

“Who are
you people?” asked the husband.

Sherrie
smiled. “Your son sent us.”

Operations Center 3, CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia

Leroux exchanged fist bumps with the team, offering up one to
Morrison who shook his head then chuckled, granting his underling some skin. To
say Leroux was relieved was an understatement. His girlfriend going up against
six hostiles was not how he had thought his day would play out, but it was
over. Acton’s parents were safe, and Sherrie could come back in, perfectly secure
while the Italian portion of the operation wound up.

Marc
Therrien cleared his throat. “Sir, I think I’ve figured out why they were using
that apartment.”

The
jubilation immediately ceased, everyone turning to the analyst.

“Go
ahead.”

“It’s
listed on SimplyStay, it’s like an Airbnb type place. You know, you list your
house or apartment for rent. It looks like he does it every time he’s out of
town on business.”

Sonya
spun in her chair. “Why would someone so rich do that? It’s not like he needs
the cash.”

“I
checked him out. He’s the CEO of that biomedical firm, but he’s an angel
investor in a lot of other companies, including this one.”

Leroux
pursed his lips. “So he’s testing his own product.”

“Yup.”

“What
can you tell us?”

“The
listing went up last week and it’s now showing as unavailable, so it was
obviously rented.”

“Can you
trace the transaction?”

“Should
be able to, give me a few minutes.”

Leroux
nodded, turning to Child.

“How
about we let Professor Acton know his parents are safe.”

CIA Safe House, Rome, Italy

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,
dear, we’re fine.”

Just the
sound of his mother’s voice had Acton collapsing on the couch, the adrenaline
he’d been running on done with, his exhaustion already taking over. He closed
his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks as Laura hugged him, Reading on his
feet exchanging a handshake with Mr. Verde.

Everyone
was elated.

Though none
obviously more than him.

“I’m
sorry I got you involved,” he managed, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I was
stupid.”

“What’s
this all about? Why did they take us?”

Acton inhaled,
holding it for a moment. “I got mixed up in something in Italy, but you’re safe
now.”

“Who are
these people?”

“I’ll
explain everything later. You’re with my friends, they’ll get you to safety.”

“Interesting
friends you have. We’re definitely going to have a talk when you get home.”

Acton
smiled, enjoying the scolding. “Yes, Mom. Where are you now?”

“We’re
just getting on the elevator. They’re taking us somewhere safe, I guess.” There
was a strange sound on the other end of the line. “Wait a minute, what was
that? Oh my God, no!”

“Mom!
Mom! What is it? What’s happening?”

He heard
screams and loud bursts of static, then nothing.

“Mom!”
He stared at the phone, the call ended, then looked at Laura. “Something’s
happened!”

West Pratt Street, Baltimore, Maryland

Kane pulled up outside the condo, parking behind Sherrie’s vehicle.
He had been pissed when he heard they had gone in without backup, though knew
he would have done no different.

And it
had all worked out.