Chapter 21
C ameron Ridge had never been more grateful for his years of training, first as a SEAL and then as an agent. Being in the field was his comfort zone, far more than pushing papers behind a desk, as he had been doing for the past few months since taking command of his new team. When he was on a mission, as he had been for most of the last decade, he didn’t have to worry about people’s feelings and whether or not his employees liked him. Budget constrictions didn’t bother him. He never had to worry if the copier was on the fritz or if someone didn’t get the time off they requested and would now quit and leave him short handed. In the field only one thing mattered: failure or success. But unlike every other mission he had ever done, the stakes had never included the life of someone he knew, someone he personally cared about. That was why he was thankful for the training that allowed him to compartmentalize his emotions and focus on the job at hand. For now, he wasn’t rescuing Maggie; he was simply carrying out a mission, and failure was not an option.
It was likely, but it wasn’t an option.
“You know what this means,” the Colonel had said when he showed up at Maggie’s house soon after Ridge cleared it. The fact that he arrived in person was a testament to the seriousness of the situation. One of their own had been taken by terrorists on their own soil, and no one took that lightly. It didn’t help matters that Maggie was well liked by all who knew her and had eyes as gentle and kind as a newborn foal .
“I know what it means,” Ridge had replied, and from there he was on his own. He had gone outside their agency to assemble a team he trusted, a mix of current and former SEAL guys who could do an op, do it well, and keep it covert. There was no protocol for what he was about to do, no written rules, and no budget to pay any of the players. They were there because they lived by a certain code—a brother in trouble is in need of help, the end. None of them even knew Maggie, but they knew Ridge and, by extension, knew he wouldn’t be asking for their help for anything less than the direst emergency. And truth be told, they were the crazy adventurous sort for whom breaking into a well-guarded Saudi compound sounded like a fun way to spend a Friday night.
The only fly in the ointment, as far as Ridge was concerned, was the complete lack of preparation. He liked to have a plan, and he liked to run it at least once before they carried it through. Planning made or broke a mission. But he had enough experience to know a plan wasn’t always possible. Sometimes in an emergency, one had to roll with the punches. Maggie in the hands of a couple of madmen qualified as the highest sort of emergency.
So he threw together a team, told them what he knew of the house and its occupants, and that was that. Lethal force had been authorized for anyone who got in their way. Within two hours after finding Maggie’s house empty, Ridge was back at the party site with his assembled team, all of them dressed, armed, and ready to go.
First they had to cut the concertina wire surrounding the compound. There were no dogs, and for that Ridge was thankful. He hated it when they had to dispose of animals, hapless victims who had no choice in what their owners were up to. The lights were off outside, and that was strange. They had been on when he and Maggie left the party, which was still in full swing, despite being the middle of the night. Maybe the party was continual, a constant source of cover. They split into three teams of two and flanked the back entrance, but there were no guards outside.
Ridge and his team looked at each other. No lights, no guards, and no dogs. Was it a trap? They proceeded to the door to disable the security system, but it wasn’t on. In fact, the door was ajar.
The forward team opened it and swept the hall before signaling the next team inside. The third team would wait outside and guard the door.
They turned the corner and saw two guards posted outside a door. They were down before they had time to raise their weapons, easily and silently. The forward team waited outside while Ridge and his partner opened the door. Maggie stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed over her chest as if she had been waiting patiently the entire two hours, as if she was certain he would come for her.
“Cam?” she whispered, tilting her head at him. He was in full gear and not easily recognized. He nodded and motioned her forward, his eyes scanning her for obvious blood or bruises.
“Are you hurt?” he whispered.
She shook her head. He wanted to sag in relief, but he couldn’t because, somehow, they had to get back out again. He sandwiched Maggie between himself and Ethan, his partner, and they turned to go.
They made it almost back to the door when a man stepped out of a room, intercepting their path. The forward team raised their weapons, but before anyone could act, Maggie rushed forward and threw herself in front of the man.
“No,” she hissed, shaking her head .
“Maggie,” Ridge exclaimed, albeit in a whisper. All Sam had to do was reach out an arm and secure it around her neck, thereby using her as a handy shield.
“He’s on our side. He helped,” Maggie insisted. Sam remained motionless, staring at them with unreadable eyes. Everyone looked to Ridge for direction. Slowly, he reached out a hand and pulled Maggie back to his side.
“Hands up,” Ridge said, and Sam complied. “Face the wall.” Sam turned and put his hands on the wall, but his head swiveled to watch Maggie and the team as they finished their exit.
Maggie turned to look at Sam, pressing her fingers to her lips before offering him a wave goodbye. She may never see him again, but she couldn’t think about it now. She couldn’t think about anything, not until they were safely away from the compound.
Outside, things became dicey. Their presence had been discovered, and the four remaining guards were back.
“Take her and go,” Ethan said, shoving Maggie toward Ridge and turning toward the guards. They went forward to engage and provide cover while Maggie and Ridge made their escape. The guards were coming from the area of the hole they’d made in the concertina wire. There was no choice but to go around the building, back up front, and leave by way of the party.
Ridge had a firm clasp on Maggie’s hand, and she flat out ran, despite the fact she was barefoot, in her pajamas, and it was freezing outside. But they made it, and there were no guards left to give chase. He shoved her into a car and peeled off.
“Where are we...” she began but he shook his head, his finger to his lips. She had no idea what that meant, but her brain was too tired to do anything but obey. Instead of talking, she sat back and stared at him in the dim moonlight. He looked a little like a bug, black helmet, black glasses she assumed were equipped with some type of night vision, black clothes, vest, weapons, ammo. He was foreign and intimidating, but when he rested his hand on her leg and gave it a gentle squeeze, he was all at once familiar.
After a long drive to the middle of nowhere, he pulled off the road, got out of the car, and motioned for Maggie to do the same. To her shock, he then turned her around, pressed her against the car, and began to do a combination of a frisk and full-body scan.
“What is going on?” she managed to whisper.
“Searching for bugs,” he whispered in her ear, using the opportunity to push aside her hair and scan her neck and there, below her left ear, was an invisible little dot. How he saw it, she had no idea. How it had had been placed there without her notice was an even bigger mystery. Carefully, he peeled it off, tossed it inside the car, and closed the door. When that was done, he turned her to face him and wrapped her in a hug, the full weight of his body smashing her against the car.
“Are we able to talk now?” she whispered.
He nodded. His face against her neck felt odd with so much plastic protection between them. He must have realized the same thing because he ripped off his helmet and goggles and tossed them aside.
She found that, now she could talk, there was too much to say. The words bottlenecked inside her, so she contented herself with holding him and being held in return. There was no air between them, as if they both felt desperate to reassure themselves of the other’s safety using only the power of touch. They were plastered together, their faces pressed to each other’s necks .
“Maggie,” Ridge breathed, loading the one word with all the mixed up emotion he felt—guilt, terror, relief.
“It’s okay,” she assured him. Her fingers smoothed over the back of his neck, trying to ease the spot where he stored the most tension.
“I…” Ridge began, but the sound of an approaching motor broke them apart. Maggie tensed, but Ridge seemed to relax. A similarly dressed operative stopped a motorcycle two feet away and slipped off, coming to rest beside Ridge. He peeled off his helmet and goggles, surveying Maggie with a charmingly lopsided smile. “You must be Maggie.”
Maggie nodded, dazed. She had no idea who he was or what was going on.
“I’m Ethan. Look how adorable you are, in your jammies and everything.” He picked her up in a quick, tight hug before setting her down.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Maggie said.
“I’m Ethan,” he repeated before turning his attention to Ridge.
“How many casualties?” Ridge asked.
“Three but I don’t think any fatalities. In and out, the guys are probably already out celebrating and disappointed it was so easy,” Ethan said.
“I owe you,” Ridge said.
“If only there was some way to repay me,” Ethan said, bestowing another smile on Maggie.
“Not a chance,” Ridge said. “Here.” He handed Ethan the keys to the car, and Ethan gave him the keys to the motorcycle.
“Um,” Maggie began, but Ridge interrupted.
“I’ll explain in a minute, Mags, I have to give Ethan some instructions,” he said, not really looking at her. He and Ethan were doing the guy thing where they dismissed the female presence, a punishment for not having enough testosterone to be part of the club.
“But I have this, and I think it should go to the Colonel,” Maggie said, holding aloft the flash drive Sam had given her. Now she had the men’s full attention.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ridge asked.
“According to Sam, yes,” Maggie said. She couldn’t be certain, but she suspected it was everything they needed to know about whatever Sam’s uncles were planning.
Ridge palmed it and stared at it in silence.
“That should go to the Colonel, and he’ll want to hear about it from you,” Ethan said. His tone held a teasing note Maggie didn’t understand. “You go do your report. I’ll see to Maggie.”
“If you need to go, then go,” Maggie said, though the last thing she wanted at the moment was to be left alone with another strange man, even if he was apparently someone Ridge trusted completely.
Some kind of internal battle raged through Ridge’s features before he eventually pressed the flash drive into Ethan’s palm. “I don’t have to tell you how many lives might depend on this making it to the Colonel. Tonight.”
“Such a worrier, LT,” Ethan said, rolling his eyes. “Now, you kids have fun.” He knocked his fist against Ridge’s bicep before turning his attention back to Maggie. “Maggie, a true pleasure to meet you. Something tells me I’ll be seeing more of you in the future.”
She stood on her toes to hug him. “Thank you so much for coming to get me, whomever you are.”
“She said ‘whom’” Ethan said, giving her a tight squeeze before letting her go.
“I told you she’s a librarian,” Ridge said, sounding amused .
“I thought that was her handle,” Ethan replied.
“She doesn’t have a handle. She’s not in the field,” Ridge said.
“She is now,” Ethan said, his arms swinging wide to encompass the fields around them. “How about QT?”
“How about you get out of here and leave her to me?” Ridge suggested.
Ethan put up his hands and took a step back. “Just a suggestion, LT.” He winked at Maggie, slid behind the wheel of the car, and drove away.
“Why did he take the car?” Maggie asked.
“Car’s bugged.”
“But it’s bugged by the agency, right?”
“Yes, and that’s the problem.” Ridge turned to face her. “The agency can’t be trusted anymore. There’s a mole.”