Chapter 28
Jordan had trained thousands of hours over the years so he could extend the gray zone during combat and operate without physiological stress responses screwing up his reflexes and fine motor skills.
But, right now, panic had a stranglehold around his throat, and his lungs hurt as his heart thrashed wildly in his chest.
He couldn’t lose Daisy.
No one could operate effectively in the black zone. He was useless to everyone, especially her. He started tactical breathing. Count of four inhale. Hold for four. Count of four exhale. Hold for four. Repeat.
He felt his heart rate begin to slow and his blood pressure ease.
“What’s our ETA?” Alex demanded, checking his sidearm and watching him with concern.
“Three minutes out,” the pilot told them, after contacting air traffic control over Richmond to clear the way.
Krychek got his finger out of his ass and called Mac to update the task force. He’d call Kurt when Daisy was safe. She was going to be safe.
“Bocharov attacked Daisy in her home, and he set fire to her building. She called me.” Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What if that was the last time he ever heard her voice?
“She and Agent Cisco are looking for a way out. Jon Regan is missing.” He feared the worse for the senior agent.
Bocharov wasn’t one to show mercy. “We notified emergency services. We need to make sure there aren’t any snipers in the area preventing Daisy and Cisco from getting out.
” Like the bastard who’d killed his sister—and the one who’d killed former Special Agent Jenna Stork.
The same person?
Perhaps.
Bocharov sure didn’t have the patience or the skill.
“We need Gold Team routed to Richmond, ASAP.” He couldn’t believe coherent words were coming out of his mouth.
“You need to alert the airports. Put out BOLOs on Bocharov. Shut down all private flights. Alert the traffic cops and port authorities, and let’s catch this sonofabitch.
He’ll be armed and dangerous, and he won’t want to go to prison. ”
“I’ll make the calls. You concentrate on getting Daisy and Agent Cisco out of that situation. Keep me updated.” Mac hung up.
Jordan checked his weapon and then scanned the early dawn sky.
“There.” He pointed. Black smoke was faint against the muted grays.
The pilot had already spotted it. He turned the aircraft slightly and increased the throttle.
They flew fast, but it seemed to take forever to reach the burning building, every second an eternity. They hovered over the street and Jordan was relieved to see firefighters rolling out hoses and beginning to pump water on the base of the structure.
The house had been a glorious mint green Queen Anne style Victorian with a turret at the front and decorative gingerbread trim that was singed with brown as the paint began to blister and ignite.
He knew Daisy lived on the top floor in the converted attic, but that was all he knew.
Even from here, Jordan could see the ferocity of the flames on the ground and middle levels—there was no way for a human to survive in those flames.
The sight of it threatened to drag him back to that other time when he’d helplessly watched from the sidelines.
Not this time.
“The roof. Take me to the roof.”
“Wait. What about snipers?” Alex asked.
“Doesn’t matter.” Jordan swallowed, needing to get to Daisy and Cisco.
“It matters if we get gunned down and can’t rescue anyone.”
Fuck, he was right.
Alex indicated a park at the end of the street. “Drop me there. I’ll watch the buildings facing the fire, and if anyone appears with a rifle, I’ll make sure they don’t get the chance to aim for very long.”
Even though every second counted in a fire, it was a good idea, especially when he remembered what Jenna Stork’s face had looked like after that sniper’s bullet found its mark.
“Hurry,” he urged the pilot.
Alex jumped out before they’d even landed and sprinted away.
They swooped straight back up into the air, and the pilot swung to approach from the south. Flames were licking the eastern hip of the roof.
“Drop me there.” He pointed. “Wait.” Jordan couldn’t believe his eyes. “You see what I see?”
Because of the shape of the roof, the women weren’t visible from the front.
“Damn straight.” The pilot grinned, bringing the bird in closer to the roof. Daisy knelt against the roof on all fours, whereas Cisco sat up and then, stood, waving.
“You’re going to have to get real close.”
“I know it.”
Jordan climbed over the seats into the back and clipped into the safety harness.
The tall chimneys and the steep pitch of the roof made it incredibly dangerous for the pilot to get close without the main rotors or tail rotors touching something and killing them all.
The east end of the roof suddenly collapsed, sending up a wave of sparking embers.
The turbulence sent the machine rocking wildly for a second.
The women below cowered, trapped between burning timbers and deadly blades.
Jordan leaned out of the machine, stretched out his hand and caught Florence by the forearm.
She gripped tightly and he swung her onboard as the pilot struggled to steady the bird.
She got her foot on the rail and boosted herself into the cabin.
He leaned out farther, and the pilot once again hovered closer to the roof. Daisy crouched away from the rotors but, when they got close enough, stretched out her arms to toss in her bag which he caught and threw on the seat. He didn’t care about her belongings.
“Get in the fucking helicopter!”
“I’m trying.” Her hair was damp and slicked back. Blood ran down the right side of her cheek. Dirt streaked her usually pale skin. He leaned farther out and Cisco grabbed his legs.
“I can’t hold position for much longer,” the pilot warned.
“Another inch closer.”
“This whole roof is going to collapse.”
“Jump, Daisy,” he shouted. “Jump! For the love of God, you have to trust me to catch you. Jump!”
He watched her make up her mind and then take a determined leap off the tiles. As she did so, the roof beneath her started to collapse, and the pilot began to bank away from the inferno to avoid the heat wave.
Jordan caught her wrists, clung, refusing to let go. Her feet scrambled, and eventually her knees found the rail. He hauled her inside, gathering her close as she collapsed against him.
Cisco placed headphones over Daisy’s ears. She’d already grabbed a pair for herself.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you.” Jordan could barely speak.
“I can’t believe you got to us in time.” Daisy’s voice was gravelly. “Another few seconds, and we’d both have been dead.”
He stared at the collapsing house which was way beyond saving. The idea of her dying in those flames ripped him apart. He closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed tight. Then pulled away as something in her backpack bit him.
It didn’t matter.
He pulled Cisco in for a hug too. She might be an FBI agent, but she was young and inexperienced, and she’d been through hell and survived. She was allowed to have a moment. They all were.
They landed back in the park, and the pilot began winding down. “Gold Team are rendezvousing here. ETA thirty minutes.”
Alex appeared at the open doorway and grinned like a loon.
“Cut it a little fine, but good work. No visible threats on the street. My thinking is they booked it as soon as the cops showed up.”
“There was a sniper earlier. They shot out the middle floor window when I attempted to open it.” Cisco wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, smearing soot as Jordan and Alex exchanged a glance.
Jordan helped Daisy and Florence climb out of the bird, shielding them with his body and guiding them away from the deadly tail rotors. “Let’s get you two somewhere safe so a medic can look at you.”
“I’m fine,” Daisy insisted, touching the cut on her cheek with a wince. “A few minor scrapes.”
Cisco pulled away. “I have to find Regan. I’ll check the van.”
“Wait. The bomb squad needs to check that vehicle first,” Jordan warned.
Cisco looked startled by that.
“Another of Bocharov’s little tricks.”
“You know how to check for explosives,” Daisy insisted. “Let’s go see if Regan is in there.”
This fucking woman.
“You’re a target.”
“Jon Regan might be hurt or dying. I won’t take away resources that could help him.”
“Fine.” He wanted to be angry, but he wasn’t even surprised. He wanted to know what had happened to the head of TacOps even though he feared the worst.
“Hey, Harry Marcus is in town. They had him on the Hussein raid. We could call him in,” Cisco suggested.
“I don’t need Harry fucking Marcus to check for explosives.” Jordan ground his teeth. “I’m as highly trained as Harry when it comes to IEDs.”
Daisy raised her brow but thankfully didn’t say anything.
Now who had the big ego?
Jordan and Alex and Cisco shielded Daisy on three sides, though she might not have realized it as they hurried toward the front of the street where the van was parked.
“My vehicle is parked behind the van,” Daisy pointed out.
All three of them were scanning the row of houses in front. Many of the residents were on the sidewalk, huddled in small groups or talking in shocked whispers.
The four of them stopped about twenty feet away from the vehicles and did a slow 360, looking for shooters.
Mesmerized for a moment, Jordan stared at the flames as the old Victorian continued to burn. It reminded him of his nightmares and would add another layer of horror, only this one involving the woman at his side. He’d prefer a million sex dreams to the scorching reminder of death.
Daisy’s fingers gripped his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything is okay.”
The fact she was comforting him after she’d been through such a traumatic experience made his eyes water, just a little, but he blinked the moisture away. This was no time for weakness. Bocharov was in the wind, and he needed to catch the bastard before he harmed anyone else.
“I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about.”