Chapter 18 Taking Her Shot
TAKING HER SHOT
TEDDY
Monday, at four in the afternoon, every available ALPHA Op had taken their positions in the parking lot of Santini Ristorante. Over sixty employees stood like sitting ducks, body armor and concealed weapons their only protection against the enemy.
Teddy and Sydney said very little on the drive over, both so focused on the big event. On the rooftop, they got busy setting up.
Hawk piloted the drone from his SUV, parked behind the restaurant, patrolling from the skies above for whatever may come their way.
Sin and Dakota had jumped into action to ensure the nearby office buildings stayed closed—including the eleven-story building where Sydney and Teddy lay in wait.
When the brothers got resistance to their “request”, Sin pushed back—as only Sin could—threatening to reveal any well-kept secrets of the building managers.
Everyone had one and, even if Sin was bluffing, his confidence carried him. It always did.
The road had been closed in both directions. BLACK OPS stood near the temporary blockades wearing police garb. Detour signs had been set up to route traffic away from ground zero. Parked on scene at the blockades, their bulletproof SUVs offered protection, should the terror cell ambush them.
Greystone stood on the makeshift stage behind the podium in front of the restaurant.
Slash and Carrera were lying on a rooftop near the east-facing blockade.
Addison and Brit were in position on a west-facing rooftop.
Binos in hand, they were the team’s lookouts.
On the next street over, Rebel lay on a rooftop scouting for anyone driving perpendicular toward them.
Sin and his wife Evangeline stood in the restaurant parking lot, their close friend and investigative journalist, Alexandra Wilde sandwiched between them.
Though Alexandra wore a Kevlar vest, Teddy didn’t want any civilian on site, but Sin insisted the live feed would help bring attention to their event.
On the rooftop, Sydney unearthed three rifles.
After setting up both tripods, she attached one high-powered, long-range weapon facing east, the second facing west. The third rifle lay by her side.
Then, she added suppressors to help muffle the gunshots.
Next to Sydney, Teddy lay on the rooftop, binos pressed to his face.
He’d watch the east, crane west. Back and forth, again and again.
BLACK OPS had suited up in SWAT gear, helmets on their heads, but only Teddy had attached night goggles.
The stage had been set. Now, they needed their bad actors to take the bait.
From her prone position on the rooftop, Sydney said, “Shooter ready.”
Though Sydney had a comm wedged in her ear, she’d turned it off. Chatter interfered with her ability to stay focused on her sole goal.
Take out any terrorists that crossed their path.
Her challenge? She had to be one-hundred percent certain the bullet she fired was headed for a Haqazzii soldier and no one else.
Though their comms were on a private frequency, they’d come up with code names. They assumed the terrorists were watching their every move, might’ve even found a way to hack in.
“Here we go,” Teddy whispered into the comm. “Oly in position,” he said in regards to the Olympian by his side.
“King Cobra ready to rock,” Greystone said.
“Birdman flying high,” Hawk said. “Skies all clear.”
Slash and Carrera checked in, same with Addison and Brit, and Rebel. The ALPHA Ops watching the perimeter barriers confirmed their readiness.
Let’s do this.
They were ready, they were well-equipped and, now, they needed Lady Luck on their side.
Using the binos, Teddy homed in on his brother as Greystone began his speech. Teddy shifted toward the street, sweeping his gaze left and right, then as far back as he could see.
As he listened through the comm, he stayed vigilant.
“Good evening,” Greystone began. “On behalf of the Santini family, we’re excited to announce a Season of Giving to a community that has been our extended family for decades.”
Greystone paused while the audience of ALPHA Ops applauded. Though the event was bait for the terror cell, the brothers’ desire to give back was real.
Teddy’s guts roiled as a car came to a stop at the east barricade.
“East One, talk to me,” Teddy murmured to Slash.
“Two men in the front seat, two children in the back,” Slash replied. “They look lost.”
“We’re donating all profits to two local charities,” Greystone continued. “Sinclair and Evangeline Develin’s, The Develin Center for Runaway Children, and Maverick and Carly Hott’s HOTT Foundation—Helping Others to Thrive—which helps veterans struggling with PTSD.”
Teddy continued searching for a person on foot, on a bike, or in a vehicle.
“East one here,” Slash said. “ALPHA Ops confirmed, the stopped vehicle is following the detour.”
Teddy breathed.
Caroline moved from the makeshift stage to the podium beside Greystone. “Tonight, we’re kicking off our fundraiser that ends on New Year’s Eve.”
As Caroline talked about the difference those charities had made over the years, Teddy kept his gaze trained on the street. He did a one-eighty, searching for anyone coming their way, but the street was void of vehicles and foot traffic.
The frustration that lived just beneath the surface seeped into his thoughts. Would this be a complete bust? Were they doing this for nothing? If the terrorists were tracking them, had they figured out the event was a ruse?
Using the binos, Teddy watched as Greystone and Caroline moved away from the podium so Sin and Evangeline could take center stage.
“Good evening,” Sin said. “I’m Sinclair Develin. Along with my wife, Evangeline, I’d like to kick off the evening with donations to both charities.”
“A vehicle has pulled up to the barricade,” Addison said through the comm. “Talking to lookout now.”
Teddy shifted the binos, but he couldn’t see beyond the curve in the road.
“Evan and I invited journalist Alexandra Wilde so she can interview Greystone Santini, one of the owners of Santini Ristorante,” Sin said, his signature grin front and center.
Teddy eyed them through the binos, appreciating how relaxed they looked.
“All clear,” Addison said through the comm. “They’re new to the area and had no idea where the detour would take them.”
Alexandra and her cameraman got into position next to Greystone and Caroline.
“I’m Alexandra Wilde, live at Santini Ristorante in Old Town, Alexandria,” the journalist began.
“The owners of this popular, upscale eatery are doing something wonderful this holiday season.” Alexandra discussed each of the charities, explained to her audience that while the restaurant was closed for a private event that evening, and they’d be open for business the following day and ready to make a difference.
“Every dollar earned goes toward their chosen charities,” Alexandra said. “Stop by for lunch or dinner, enjoy authentic Italian cuisine, and donate to a good cause. I’m Alexandra Wilde with news channel seven.”
Greystone thanked Alexandra, waited for her, Sin, and Evangeline to step down. For a man who said very little, his brother continued talking for another fifteen minutes before he invited Caroline back to the mic. She spoke for several more minutes, then they thanked their special guests.
Alexandra Wilde interviewed a handful of “spectators” in the crowd, then asked Greystone and Caroline a few questions, all while the camera was rolling and the live feed broadcast their location to anyone who might be tuning in… or lurking in the shadows, watching their every damn move.
A full hour later, they invited everyone inside for the private party.
As the ALPHA Ops made their way into the building, Teddy asked Sydney, “Are you ready to pack it up?”
“It’s too soon,” she replied. “Ask BLACK OPS doing street patrol to keep the temporary barricade in place until we leave.”
Teddy did as she requested before checking in with his team.
“Birdman is staying in position,” Hawk said.
“East One is holding steady,” Addison said for her and Brit.
“Same with West One,” Slash said.
One by one his team confirmed they weren’t moving.
“I’m bringing Paul Revere inside,” Sin said of journalist Alexandra Wilde.
Teddy continued his lookout job. Another hour passed. Their advantage? The sun’s rays had set, darkness had settled over them. Now, the soft glow of street lamps illuminated the sidewalks and shuttered stores.
Both he and Sydney had changed positions several times.
“How you doing?” he asked her.
She sat up, cracked her back. “Hoping the monsters show and my aim is exact.”
At eight o’clock, the team was still in place, but at 9:30 pm, Carrera broke rank. “I’m heading to ground zero.”
Fuck. Fuck.
Frustration morphed into anger. Teddy had fully expected the terror cell would take advantage of the situation and attack. It would be a tremendous win for them, clearing the way to go after the Eagle.
At 10:10 pm, Teddy stood. “It’s over.”
“I’m staying here until everyone leaves the restaurant, but don’t tell them,” Sydney said.
“Team, thanks for your efforts,” Teddy said into the comm. “Time to call this. Head inside, dinner is comped. Detour barricades remain in place.”
Within minutes, the BLACK OPS SUVs pulled into the restaurant lot, parking out front.
“Team, drive around back,” Teddy instructed them.
“No,” Sydney pushed back. “Keep them out front. Those oversized SUVs with their black-tinted windows scream law enforcement. It’s like we’ve posted a banner across the restaurant that says, ‘Here we are! Come and get us!’”
After Teddy told the team to leave their vehicles out front, he asked Sydney, “What are you thinking?”
“My gut says this isn’t over,” Sydney replied. “And my gut is rarely wrong.”
SYDNEY