Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9 (27 page)

“In and out,” Charlie said, suiting up beside him. “Piece of cake.”

It was hard not to share Charlie’s confidence. Thanks to a tiny, integrated circuit device (Charlie called it a “microchip”) surgically implanted beneath Brian’s skin, they knew exactly where he was. It was like something right out of the movies. They had global satellite imagery of the location that was almost as clear as a sunny day photograph, and digital scanners capable of picking up the heat signatures of any warm-blooded creature with a given range.

It left Jack with only one question.

“If you have all this, why did you need me?”

Charlie looked at him. “I like my toys, Jack, but they are no match for a highly-trained SEAL with your kind of experience. Besides, I’ve an ulterior motive.” Jack raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m hoping that you’ll decide to stay on.”

Jack grunted. He’d been out of the action for fifteen years, a hell of a long time for that kind of thing. “I’m just here to get Brian out, then I’m done.”

Grinning, Charlie slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Sure, Jack. Whatever you say.”

Sufficiently armed, Charlie led Jack through a series of tunnels (why was he not surprised), emerging into a garage several hundred yards away from the Range, where an unusual looking vehicle awaited them.

“What the hell do you call this monster?” Jack asked, taking in the matte black vehicle that looked like a cross between an Army Jeep and a tank.

“One of my new toys,” Charlie chuckled. “That, my friend, is a High Mobility Multi-Purpose Wheeled Vehicle, or a HUMVEE, for short. Been around since eighty-two or so, but they’re not easy to get. Can go anywhere, do anything, with both style and extreme prejudice.”

“You’re going to let me drive that, right?”

“Jack, sign on with me and you’ll be able to buy your own.”

The inside of the vehicle was far more impressive than the outside; the dashboard was a mass of gadgetry worthy of a cockpit. Jack couldn’t help but think how his son Sean’s eyes would light up. The boy loved vehicles of all kinds. He was the only kid Jack knew who dismantled his toys and put them back together instead of playing with them.

“Now this here,” Charlie said, waving his hand, “is all custom. Designed and built by a computer specialist in the NSA.”

“Another good friend?” Jack guessed, wondering just how far Charlie’s network extended.

“Aye,” Charlie winked. “Can never have too many good friends, I always say.”

––––––––

I
t had been a while, but Jack slipped easily into SEAL mode. At least mentally. Physically, it was a bit of a challenge. He’d thought he’d kept in fairly decent shape with a strict regimen of push-ups, sit-ups, and calisthenics, but he was breathing heavily by the time he hit his position.

Mind cleared, he sought that concentrated inner focus that carried him through more missions than he could count.

The fancy, mansion-like house and surrounding estate in an affluent suburb of northern New Jersey was about as far away as one could get from the Mekong Delta, but the underlying principles were the same: Get in, get it done, and get out intact.

Charlie reviewed the plan one more time, his voice ringing crystal-clear through the tiny earpiece. The front gate was locked, manned by a single guard. They wouldn’t be going in that way, but the distraction team would.

Jack would take the wall on the eastern perimeter, the one closest to the ten bay garage. From there, they would ghost their way past the security cameras mounted every hundred feet or so, avoiding the two guards who patrolled the grounds with canines. Then slip into the hidden service entrance around the back, descend into the underground area where they believed Brian was being held. Grab him and get out much the same way they went it.

Simple enough, in theory. Reality was almost always a different story.

A glossy black sedan with tinted windows drove up to the gate, which was their signal. “Go,” Charlie whispered through the earpiece, but it came across loud and clear. Just another shadow in the night, Jack made quick work of the wall, scaling the stone (not as easily as he once had, but not too bad for a thirty-eight year old bartender, either). His back and shoulders protested only slightly, probably because of all the hefting of kegs and cases he did around the Pub. He made a mental note to work on his finger strength, too, then shook that thought off. This was a one-time thing only, right?

He dropped down to the ground on the other side, silently landing in a crouch. And there was reality, ready and eager to bite him on the ass in the form of a slightly deranged-looking, Buick-sized Rottweiler in the process of relieving himself.

“Good boy,” Jack murmured. The dog tilted its massive head as if it couldn’t believe Jack had actually spoken to it, then let out a low, menacing growl.

“Hamburger with tranquilizer, left ankle pocket,”
Charlie’s voice said in his ear.
“Keep it close and ice it.”

Ice it, Charlie’s term for freezing, or staying unnaturally still.

Very slowly, Jack extracted the meat and tossed it in front of the dog’s nose. Keeping his eyes on Jack, the beast lowered his head and sniffed, then gulped it down in one bite. In less than a minute the dog wavered and sidestepped, then went down.

Things like that were exactly why he liked working with Charlie.

“Fang! Come,” a voice commanded from near the garage.

Jack looked down at the now-sleeping dog. “Fang? Really?”

A guard came around the corner and stopped under one of the spotlights, peering out into the darkness as he lit a cigarette. “Fang!”

From his position in the shadows, Jack did a quick analysis. Big guy, but not very smart if he was standing there in a pool of light. Probably armed, though whatever he was packing under that black jacket wouldn’t compare to the beauties Duffy had provided. Clearly, the owner of the mansion wasn’t overly concerned about his security. As the personal residence of one of the traffickers, they probably didn’t expect anyone to come looking for Brian here. But, according to Charlie, microchips didn’t lie.

Still covered by darkness, Jack reached out and shook the nearest bush, drawing the guard’s attention.

“Come on, you stupid mutt.”

Jack rattled the shrub again. The guard drew a weapon—– what looked like one of the newer SIG Sauer models –—and took a step forward.

“Fang!”

Come on, come on
, Jack silently urged. He needed the guy away from the light and the cameras before disabling him, and time was wasting. Thankfully, the guard complied. The moment he was within reach, Jack sprang up from behind the bush, took him down with one swift shot to the head with the butt of the gun, then dragged him behind the bush next to
Fang
.

“I’m in.”

Damn it
, Charlie was already inside and here he was playing footsie with Muttley and some
Scarface
wannabe. He was tempted to skip the zip-ties and duct tape, but opted for the ounce of prevention just in case things didn’t go exactly as planned. If he could eliminate another possible obstacle later, he would. After ensuring those two wouldn’t be causing any more problems, Jack high-tailed it around the garage, staying low as he slipped past a red Maserati and a black Lincoln Towne Car.

With the theme song from
Mission Impossible
inexplicably going through his head, he made a beeline for the back, where Charlie’s blueprints had indicated a door leading to the lower levels. Crouching behind the front end of a Bentley, Jack raised the small gun and pointed at the security camera above the entrance. With a deep calming breath, he lined the sights and pulled the trigger. According to Charlie, the fingernail-sized scrambler would freeze the feed for ten seconds, giving him the opportunity to slip in unnoticed. Jack figured it worked when he stepped up to the door, disabled the lock with another new-age-looking contraption, and entered without a gun in his face.

“I’m in
,
” he whispered.

“
About fucking time. What kept you?
”

Jack ignored Charlie’s ribbing and focused. Eight minutes. That’s how long he had to find Brian and get the hell out before the next guard came around the house and discovered the first guard missing.

He crept down the stairs noiselessly, moving quickly and on full-alert. When he hit the bottom, he waved the high-tech gadget again and heard the telltale snick of the lock disengaging on the door there. Charlie had some very cool toys.

The beefy guy on the other side turned, clearly expecting someone else. Before his eyes fully widened, Jack disabled him with a stabbing jab to the throat and sharp rap to the back of the head.

“Pathetic,” he murmured.

“Can’t get good help these days. Quit playing around and get your ass out here. I’m going for the girls. Going dark in thirty seconds.”

Girls that had been no doubt brought out as candidates for the possible buyer, a.k.a, Charlie’s distraction team.

Jack slipped on his night vision goggles, anticipating the impending blackout, mentally counting down the seconds. He found Brian in a small room off to the left, unconscious with wrists and ankles bound. Judging by the facial swelling, ugly bruises, and dried blood, he’d taken quite a beating. Like the warrior he was, Jack forced his emotions into the background to deal with later.

“Come on, buddy. Time to get you home.”

Charlie cursed in his earpiece.
“Jack, there’s another girl down there. New arrival, not with the others.”

“
On it.
”

“Five minutes.”

“
Yep. Got it.
”

Shite.
Jack heaved Brian over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, then continued down the hall, following the route he’d memorized from the blueprints. The plan had been for Charlie to get the girls, him to get Brian. But there was reality again, keeping things interesting.

The first two doors he came to were unlocked and unoccupied, the third wasn’t. Unlike the others, this one had an old-fashioned key lock, so waving the magic digital wand wasn’t going to help.

“Haul ass. You’re about to get some company.”

More reality. Terrific.

Heavy footsteps and shouts sounded behind him. Jack paused, turned, and fired two silent shots into the darkness, grunting in satisfaction when each was following by a dull thud. Then he aimed at the lock and fired once more.

In the dim light, he spotted a young woman cringing in the corner, arms raised defensively over her head. She looked like a college kid. A young, terrified college kid.

“
Tick-tock.
”

As if he needed another reminder.

“Hey, what do you say we get you the hell out of here?” he tried.

She peered up over her arms, understandably suspicious. They grew huge when she spotted Brian’s limp figure still bent over his shoulder. “Is he dead?”

“No, just resting. Let’s go.”

“He tried to save me.”

“And I’m trying to save both of you.
Let’s go
.”

She bit her lip indecisively, but pulled herself to standing, using the wall for support. Jack remained near the doorway, listening for the new arrivals that were sure to show any time now.

“Now would be good.”

“Move.
Now,
” Jack barked, making her jump. He didn’t like playing the hard-ass, but he didn’t have time to mollycoddle her, either. The command must have penetrated some of her fear, because she took one step forward... and all but collapsed.

Shouts echoed from the far end of the corridor.
Shite
. They were out of time.

He lunged forward and lowered his shoulder, half-dragging, half-carrying her as they hoofed it toward the exit. It wasn’t easy; Brian was heavy and the girl was stumbling, but the shouts of more armed guards pounding down the stairs and no way to reach his own weapons were powerful motivators.

Charlie was waiting at the exit, relieving him of the girl, then taking off into the darkness. Jack followed, noting a downed guard and another dog along the way. In a series of moves reminiscent of BUD/s training, Charlie handed the girl back to Jack and scaled the wall. The dead weight lifted from Jack’s left shoulder, then his right as Charlie hefted Brian up. Then Jack scaled the wall, came down on the other side. He took a brief moment to catch his breath before Charlie eased Brian and the girl down, then joined him. They jogged about a quarter mile to the waiting Humvee.

“Well?” Charlie asked as they drove away, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Did you have fun?”

“Too easy,” Jack said with a grin. Tomorrow, he’d probably hurt like hell, but tonight, his body was primed and racing with adrenaline.

––––––––

O
ctober 2015

Pine Ridge

Memories assaulted him as he went into the back entrance of the pub. The kitchen had been renovated, but he still half-expected to see Kathleen at the scarred table, or feel the push of warmth on his lower body as his boys rushed to greet him.

Now it was Taryn who greeted him with a smile and his grandchildren who attached themselves to his legs.

“Hey Dad,” Taryn grinned.

“Hello, lass. Is Jake around?”

A shadow passed over her features before she could fully mask it. “No.”

Jack knew that look all too well. It was the same one Kathleen had when she didn’t want to tell him something.

“Where is he?”

“He and Ian are out of town for a couple of days,” she said carefully.

Translation: they were on a mission. A mission he knew nothing about. Anger began to simmer inside him. Kane might be running the ops now, but they’d always kept him in the loop.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. Saw it in her sympathetic, violet eyes. They didn’t want him to worry. Jack was sick and tired of being treated like a fragile old man. As if he hadn’t trained every single one to be the absolute best, to make sure they always came home.