Street Game (45 page)

Griffen hesitated again.

“I need to know,” Mack said.

“We’ve got a small unit standing by. Special Ops. They’ll go in with the commander, take the sleeping terrorists to a waiting unmarked car. It will have tinted windows so no one can see in. The commander will go about his business as if nothing has transpired. The Special Ops team will take the terrorists to the North Korean embassy in Beijing. They’ll leave them right outside the gates and General Chun will be notified that they are on the way. He’ll have his men waiting. Special Ops will walk away, leaving the car and the keys for the North Koreans to just drive inside their gates.”

Mack nodded. “This Special Ops unit. Marines?”

“Of course,” Griffen replied.

“Then let’s use them to help us get inside. They have to be briefed on what’s going on, right?” Mack said. “Put them in the guard’s position on the side nearest the tunnel and tell them to stand down when we come over the fence.”

Griffen shook his head. “They don’t know about the kids. This is need-to-know only.”

“But they know someone’s going in and tranqing the terrorists. They know the cell is beneath the embassy, right?”

“Yes.”

“Put the Special Ops team in uniform and arrange for them to guard the fence near the tunnel entrance. They can know we’ll be slipping onto the grounds. Or just one of them. Tell their Top. We can make our way through the roving guards and the dogs both going in and getting out. The danger is at the fence itself, especially coming out with the children. If they know, they can let us slip over the fence with our packages. Once we’re clear, the captain can relieve them of their duties and they can get out of uniform and carry out their orders. They can strip down in seconds.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Griffen said.

Mack laced his fingers through Jaimie’s. “I wouldn’t mind this one over here admitting I’m right—all the time.”

“Not likely,” Jaimie said amid the laughter.

“But, damn, she does have a magnificent brain, doesn’t she?” Kane nudged Mack.

“Either that, or not one at all,” Jaimie interjected sourly. “This is crazy, you all know that, don’t you?”

“We were all born crazy,” Javier said with a cocky grin.

Griffen nodded his head. “I like it, Mack. At least it should minimize some of the risk to your team getting out. I’ll have the secretary general send you everything they have on the tunnels and the workings and security at the embassy.”

“This low-level paper pusher,” Jaimie said. “By any chance do you have pictures and data on him? If so, I’d like to see it. I’ll need everything you’ve got on all three of the traitors.”

“Already sent to you.”

“Not from Beijing?” she asked, holding her breath.

“No. The captain didn’t know who or what he could trust. He flew in to inform the secretary general.”

Jaimie let her breath out and went to her laptop, her fingers flying over the keyboard. The pictures of three men appeared, files flying across the screen, stacking up so fast Mack had no way of reading them. “Corporal David Shanty is our guard and this is his roommate, Corporal Fred Simmons. They entered the Corps in the buddy program. And Mack, this isn’t good. Simmons knows what he’s doing with computers. The captain was smart to worry that his computer might be compromised. The third man is Chang Lui, a fourth-generation gardener. Father is Chinese, his mother American.”

“Just because this kid is good on a computer . . .” Griffen began.

“Trust me on this, Top,” Jaimie said. “If they’re in it together, Simmons is the one providing intel. His major was in computer science. He knows his stuff.”

“What do you want us to do?” Griffen asked with a small sigh.

“Have them announce the dinner party immediately. Tighten security. Put a death grip on that place. As soon as it’s locked down, ask the captain to send me everything he has. Use the encrypted program, but before he does, have them check his computer. Tell them they’re looking for a hardware keystroke logger. If they’ve compromised his computer, that’s what they’ll have used. Tell him to change his password after they’ve removed the card and then send me everything.”

“You’re certain his computer is compromised?”

“If he’s the captain, everything going on in that embassy is going to go through his office. Simmons is keeping a low profile, but he’s working in the office. He’ll have had access to the captain’s computer at some point. It would only take a couple of minutes to slip a keystroke logger into an unused PCI mini slot. He’d just have to wait for the captain to log on. His log-in information along with everything he types would be recorded. When he’s waited long enough to be certain he’s gotten everything he needs, all he has to do is wait for the captain to leave the office again and recover the card. He has total access to all the captain’s files.”

“But the captain would change his password periodically.”

“Which is why I think the card will be there. In the meantime, even if they don’t find one, have him change his password before he communicates with me, that way we’re sure no information will be compromised. If we’re going in naked, at least let’s make certain no one knows we’re coming.”

“Done,” Griffen said.

“Let’s get our gear ready, then,” Mack said. “We don’t have a lot of time. Anyone have any questions?”

“How are we getting them out of there, Mack?” Gideon asked.

The others, gathered in the kitchen, turned to listen.

“Same way we go in. No one can see us. The idea is that no one ever knows the kids were at the American embassy. We slip in and slip out.”

“Through the Marines. During a heavily guarded political dinner.”

“Yep,” Mack said.

A slow smile spread across Gideon’s face. “Just like in the old days when we were training, boss.”

“Except this time,” Jaimie pointed out, “you’ll have a couple of terrified kids who may not understand you’re there to help them.”

“We don’t know what shape they’re in,” Mack added. “Jaimie, you’re good with languages. You’ll have to do all the reassuring.”

“You’re just as capable,” she corrected.

“Yeah, but you’re a girl,” he said with a smug grin.

“Paul can monitor everything from DC,” Griffen said.

There was a small silence. Paul stood up slowly, a scowl on his face. Mack held his hand up, silencing the boy. “Paul’s a valuable member of my team. You’re not going to cripple us by breaking up the team now when this is so important.”

“You said yourself that Paul couldn’t communicate telepathically and would endanger your team,” Griffen pointed out.

“That was before I knew him. He’s a good soldier and we’ll need him and his talents. He’s a member of my team, Sergeant Major. You can’t pull him without a reason.”

For the first time Griffen hesitated. It was clear he didn’t want to send his son on what might be a suicide mission, or one where, if they were caught with the children, they might be branded criminals for life—tried and convicted worldwide. Even if they were cleared later, the shadow would forever follow them. And they’d be exposed to the world. Considered a liability.

Griffen drew in a deep breath and glanced at his son. Paul looked excruciatingly embarrassed. The other team members were looking anywhere but at him. Griffen forced himself to nod. “Good, then. You must have a plan for communication.”

“I always have a plan, Top,” Mack said. “But the details of this mission I’ll keep to myself. It’s the way I always work and it keeps us alive.”

Griffen stood up. “I’ll leave you to get ready, then. I’ll be flying back home. Paul, walk me out.”

“You got it, Top,” Paul said.

CHAPTER 19

Jaimie crouched on the floor of the van, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it would burst through her chest. All around her, crammed close like sardines, were men in combat gear, full black from caps to crepe-soled shoes. Her mouth felt like cotton. She was an analyst, not a field operative. Why wouldn’t anyone pay attention when she told them?

They had traveled for so many hours, poring over detailed blueprints, talking out every possibility, covering the smallest points, until Jaimie was exhausted and had lost track of time. The clothing was all too familiar; it clung to her like a second skin, as if she belonged. The men trained every day—
every
day in hostage rescue. Each one of them was a marksman. Each spent hours and hours on the range making certain every bullet they fired hit its target. They were all in superb shape. She must have been crazy to do this.

She opened her mouth to make another protest and closed it abruptly. They’d gone over every single detail in the hours of flight. All of them had slept the moment they’d closed their eyes. They’d trained their bodies to rest anywhere they could, under any circumstances. She looked around at the men she regarded as brothers—at the man she loved—and she realized they were born for this work.

She heard the murmur of their voices as if from a distance, the soft ribbing back and forth. Once, Kane leaned over and inspected Paul’s pack. She felt the difference in the men even before the van began to slow. The adrenaline rush was unbelievable. For a moment, the chemicals running through her body nearly paralyzed her.

Just breathe through it, Jaimie,
Mack’s voice slipped into her mind.
You’ll do fine.

She nodded her head, but didn’t trust herself to speak. He looked so confident. She couldn’t imagine him not succeeding. Failure wasn’t in his vocabulary. It was in the way he carried himself, the set of his shoulders. He would have been an extraordinary soldier without his enhancements, and they’d only made him that much better at what he did.

She forced another breath of air through her lungs.

Twenty seconds,
Kane intoned.

Although there was an arsenal of weapons available, they all carried tranq guns. She opted for a double-barreled, compressed-air tranq gun loaded with small medicated darts, guaranteed for an instant knockout. She knew the men were just as deadly with or without their firepower. This time, they would be going in and out silently, like wraiths, and they’d leave it to the Special Ops to do cleanup. All that was important was the package.

Ten seconds.

Jaimie wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. The rain was no more than a misty drizzle. It was a night without moon or stars, a night made for some dark, deadly purpose. She shoved the gun around her neck, freeing her hands to go up and over the fence. They had to be in the right sector with the right guards. Once over the fence, they were on their own.

There was a distinct chill in the air despite the closeness of the bodies crammed in the van. She found herself shivering, her teeth wanting to chatter, the overload of adrenaline nearly impossible to handle without action. Mack laid a hand on her arm without saying anything, but his body was warm and comforting next to hers and settled her more.

Five seconds
. Kane’s voice was like the proverbial tolling of the bell in her head.

From down the street there was the sudden flare-up of automobile headlights, the whine of one vehicle, the purr of another. The honored guests at the ambassador’s dinner party were arriving in a steady stream. Sounds of laughter and music drifted on the night breeze. The damp night had not dampened the guests’ spirits in the least.

Kane slipped from the van. No interior light glowed. The blackness held intact and he became part of it. He moved in silence, sliding across the grassy shoulder between the road and the high fence. He could hear the sounds of activity just around the slight bend, but he was removed from them. The guard dogs patrolling with their handlers throughout the ten acres had obviously been doubled. Five buildings were connected with circular paths throughout the courtyards. Marine guards were on high alert, and it showed in their patrols. They were in constant communication with one another.

Kane approached the sector where the Special Ops guard was supposed to have been stationed. Gideon slipped out of the van next and worked his way through the short grass and flowers on his belly, his eyes and gun centered on the guard. Jaimie felt the tension instantly. For all of them, this was the most frightening moment. If the Special Ops guard hadn’t replaced the regular Marine, the mission could end before it began.

I’ve got him covered,
Gideon sent.

Kane moved into position and let out a low one-two whistle. There was a brief moment of silence. Jaimie’s heart nearly exploded it pounded so hard. She was afraid the others might be able to hear it. Then it came, that same soft whistle, a single high-low note they waited for.

Mack put his hand on Jaimie’s shoulder and sent Javier out. Kane went up and over the fence, clearing it in one efficient leap. He landed in a crouch, his weapon sweeping the complex.

Clear,
Kane whispered in their minds.

Javier didn’t hesitate. He went up and over, using the same technique, jumping from a crouch and clearing the fence to land on the other side like a cat. As Kane moved forward into the well-trimmed bushes marking one of the many courtyards, Javier swept the complex with his weapon.
Clear,
he said.

Mack tapped Jaimie’s shoulder. She found herself running toward the fence. It loomed in front of her, high and thick. Her breath soared through her lungs. She felt the adrenaline move through her body, felt her muscles like well-oiled machines. She stretched, went up and over, landing silently.

Javier used his weapon to indicate to her to follow Kane. She didn’t even glance at the soldier guarding the fence. She’d landed a few feet from him, the ground rising up to meet her feet as if she was a large cat, capable of jumping great distances. He had to wonder how they were doing it, but if he was concerned, he didn’t move, didn’t look toward them, staring off into the night as if they weren’t invading his side of the fence.

She ran toward Kane’s position, keeping herself low, reveling in the efficient way her body moved. Elation swept through her. She’d forgotten the sheer joy of using her abilities, having suppressed them for so long. She’d try re-creating the feeling by penetrating corporation’s security, but it wasn’t the same as life or death. It wasn’t the same as working with a team you trusted implicitly. Joy sang in her veins. Every sense was acute, her sense of smell, her eyesight, even tactile feeling. She’d forgotten so much.