Chapter 23 ALPHA-Ready #3
Sydney had never been on full display while doing her job. She’d spent her career hiding in the shadows, like a vampire. Out at night, laying low during the day. She worked when her targets were most vulnerable.
At this moment, she and Caroline were standing on the press box roof in full-on SWAT gear, a rifle cradled in her arms, like a baby.
“Are they staring because we’re women?” Caroline asked.
“I think they’re staring because it’s impossible to miss us,” Sydney replied. “This is crazy, and it’s only going to get worse the second they flip on the stadium lights. When the sun sets and the skies darken, those lights are gonna blind me.”
“That’s not for another couple of hours,” Caroline said. “We’ll deal with that when it happens.”
Someone in the stands yelled up, “What’s going on up there? You gonna put on a show for us?”
“Yeah,” Sydney muttered. “I’m gonna give you an extreme closeup of my fist if you don’t sit the hell down.”
Caroline snickered. “There’s the sarcasm I know and love.”
“It’s all good,” Sin said, his deep voice filling the area with his signature brand of confidence.
Sydney needed to keep moving. If she lay on the metal rooftop too early, she’d get stiff. If she sat, same problem, so she paced.
Back and forth, her gaze sweeping the crowd.
“I’ve seen the photos of the remaining terrorists, including Muhammad Haqazzii, dozens of times,” Caroline said. “I feel like I should be able to spot them, but in a crowd of seventy thousand, it’s impossible.”
“That’s comforting,” Sydney dead-panned.
Again, Caroline laughed. “I appreciate how calm you are.”
“Yeah, I’m the pinnacle of chill.”
Caroline handed her a pair of binos. First, Sydney focused on the faces of the football players, next on the coaching staff, press, and VIPs on the field. As her gaze wandered through the crowd, she found herself looking for the luxury skyboxes.
“Do you know which skyboxes are reserved for the Prez and his guests?” Sydney asked as she lowered the binos.
Caroline stood beside her. “The three in the center, and the President will spend time in all three.”
With the help of her binos, Sydney eyed the centermost skybox. As she homed in, she saw the First Lady talking with her children. “How many children does the President have?”
“Four sons, but there are a bunch of kids in that suite.”
Sydney sighed. “My job is intense enough, but now I’ve got the added pressure of doing it in front of children and on TV. This is the ugly underbelly of evil that no one should ever see. I like it much better when I’m skulking around in the dead of night.”
“If the terror cell is going to strike, and you can take them out, you will. But you will not be responsible for the mental health of everyone in this stadium. Do you understand me Sydney Austin?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sydney replied. “And you tell me I’m bossy?”
“Sydney,” Tank said through the comm.
“Go,” Sydney said.
“How are you doing?”
“Nothin’ but chill,” Sydney replied as she peered into the next skybox. “Where are you?”
“In the hallway outside the luxury boxes. Greystone and I are about to check in with the President. We got a thing going on here.”
“Okay.”
“The server list for the skyboxes wasn’t scrubbed,” he said.
“Well, that doesn’t make my job ten times harder or anything,” she snarled. “If there’s someone in one of those boxes, it’s all you, bud.”
“If I’m taken out, if there’s an ambush—”
“Yeah, so that’s not happening,” she said. “How many BLACK OPS are with you?”
“Two per sky suite,” he said.
She moved the binos to the next suite. “I see Stryker and Emerson. Who’s in the other suites?”
“Greystone and me in the center box. Rebel and Brit in the third.”
“Where are my ALPHA spotters?” she asked. “I see SWAT on the sidelines. I don’t know everyone in ALPHA.”
“We’re the only ones in SWAT gear, unless Haqazzii and his team impersonate us.”
“This convo is really tanking, Tank.”
He chuffed out a laugh. “We got this.”
“These terrorists are bomb experts. We’ve been so focused on an assassination attempt, but there could be an army of people wearing explosives that are set to blow at the same time.”
“Everyone who entered walked through a metal detector.”
“What about explosives in plastic?”
“There’s a team of Secret Service and FBI undercovers on this level.”
“What’s the flyover situation?” she asked.
“Five Army Apache helicopters go first, then the Blue Angels jet past,” he explained.
“Fireworks?”
“No.”
“Anyone else for pre-game?”
“I’ll confirm.”
“What about halftime?” she asked.
“The West Point band and the Naval Academy band,” he replied. “What are you thinking?”
“Confirm the pre-game entertainment and halftime.”
“I’m on it.”
Sydney joined Caroline on the back edge of the press box. Caroline was peering out at the throngs of fans still filing in.
“It’s taking longer because they’re metal detectors,” Sydney said.
Caroline regarded her, but stayed silent.
“Sydney,” Tank said through the comm. “The Army Golden Knights and the Navy Leap Frogs both do pre-game parachute jumps into the stadium to deliver game balls, then the national anthem. After that, the Apaches fly over, followed by the Blue Angels. The President does the coin toss and the game begins.”
“Got it.”
“The announcer is two minutes from welcoming everyone. Televised coverage starts in thirty seconds. I was told that you and Caroline might be featured. Everyone is talking about the women in SWAT on the press box.”
“Can you stop them from filming us?” Sydney asked.
“I asked, they said they may or may not accommodate. It’s a ratings thing. Two badass women in warrior gear standing on the press box roof.”
“That’s effin’ great.”
“Sydney, it’s just a job.”
“You buying that?”
Silence, then, “No.”
“Neither am I,” she replied.
As the announcer began his welcome address, the crowd jumped to its feet and started cheering. The volume of sound in that stadium caught Sydney off guard. She worked in complete silence. This was deafening.
So, she did the only thing that made sense. She killed the comms in her ears to filter out the sound. That meant she was cut off from everyone, Tank included. Her only connection with another person was her sister standing three feet away.
The weight of the mission was falling squarely on her shoulders.
And she’d never been more ready—or more terrified—in her life.