15
GAbrIEL
The biting wind off the ocean helped steady me as I fought the urge to light yet another cigarette. I kept telling myself I’d quit once we found Emersyn, but as the months passed, then years, we’d continued to fail and well, I’d just continued to smoke.
The events of the last twenty-four hours hadn’t helped either. In fact, it made the habit worse.
In a single devastating blow, I’d found out we had a traitor in our midst, and received the coordinates for Emersyn’s current location.
Then, I had to battle my way through a stressful team meeting where I’d had to lie to my team for the first time.
Ever. I loathed every second of it. Keeping something this big from them, especially Kyllion, had shot my stress levels through the roof.
And, it didn’t stop there, because once I sat down with Seven and Rune to plan the real job, we’d discovered where the coordinates led us.
Mahoney’s private island.
I’d had to take a moment after that news, because the implications were too heavy to fully wrap my mind around all at once.
When Rune came out to deliver the news that we only had twenty-four hours until the next guard rotation on the island, all I could do was light another cigarette and go into crisis mode.
Needless to say, I wasn’t quitting my smoking habit anytime soon.
“I don’t like this,” Seven muttered for probably the hundredth time.
Yeah, I didn’t like any fucking part of any of it, but this was what we were good at.
Intel often expired quickly when dealing with trafficking networks.
We were used to making plans quickly, and executing fast. The only difference was this time we were going undercover, and the only backup we had was Rune, until it was safe to get word to North.
I looked out over the ocean, a dull grey in the early morning light, and lost the battle against another cigarette.
I fought with the lighter and caught Seven’s brief glance.
While his face was expressionless, I knew him well enough to hear the question he didn’t ask. My jaw tightened in irritation.
I was fine.
We were just so close. Emersyn was out there, and we were going to bring our girl home.
Mahoney had sent a boat out to collect everyone on the docks, and it was a long and very cold two days at sea before the island abruptly came into view. The land was locked in with patches of fog that clung to the cliffs and twisted through the evergreens.
This was no tropical oasis.
The estate—an all black and grey monstrosity—rose harsh and gothic on the edge of the bluff.
It looked like something out of a horror film.
Just like in the photos we’d seen, the only entry point on this side was a small strip of black sand in a semi-sheltered cove.
The waves battered and hissed over the rocks as the foam slid back into the depths, like it had a vendetta against the land encroaching on it.
It took three trips in the inflatable boat to get us all offloaded onto the cold shore.
There was an iron door set into the rocks above the tideline that eventually led us up into the main hall of the house.
In contrast to the chill and gloom outside, the hall was cozily lit with golden accent lighting and plush, modern furniture.
Windows covered one entire wall and displayed the last of the sunset as it streaked pinks and oranges across the sky.
A large man in cargo pants and a long sleeve black shirt stood in front of the fireplace.
“Gentlemen, my name is Brooks. I’m the head of security here on the island. Welcome. Let’s get orientation started.”
About a million pages of NDAs and paperwork later, I stood with Seven near the back and sized up our fellow changing of the guard.
We’d learned that Mahoney ran a tight ship and rotated out his security on a fairly consistent basis every three months.
I saw it for what it was—control, and eliminating any risk of island fever.
Most of these men looked like regulars to the rotation, or men who didn’t necessarily have anywhere else that would take them.
Everyone was rough, dangerous and seedy around the edges.
Brooks whistled to catch everyone’s attention.
“Alright, last few things, gentlemen, and then we’ll get you settled in the barracks,” he said.
“That chip implant that you received has several uses. First, it is of course tracking your location and your vitals, but it is also synced to our perimeter. Meaning, if you leave without the proper permissions—” He made a gesture and sound effect indicating our heads blowing up. Lovely.
“Your room has a tablet interface that has a map of the island and this estate. It will also house your rotation schedule. Your chip implant will automatically allow you through the necessary doors that you have access to.” He continued on, explaining the dining schedule and the amenities available to us on our rotating, one day off per week.
“For those of you who haven’t worked here before, Mahoney is meticulous and rigid with his rules, but there’s plenty of fun to be had here too.
You have access to whoever is in the Menagerie on your off hours—if you don’t know what that is yet, you will soon—” He winked like it was some inside joke and some of the men chuckled.
“There is a state-of-the-art gym, gun range and hiking trails around the island, although please read the information on your tablets regarding the forest beforehand if you choose to tackle that.”
Brooks lifted his hands and gestured to the estate as a whole. “Otherwise, there’s plenty to explore on the estate grounds on your off hours, and only the second level of the east wing is off limits entirely. Now, go get settled in your assigned rooms—first rotations start in about an hour.”
Brooks dismissed us with directions to the barracks.
A brief walk through the estate later, we arrived at the far west wing of the building where the barracks were situated.
The men filtered off to their assigned doors and Seven and I did the same.
Seven stepped ahead into our room and turned to take it all in.
It was small and modest, but comfortable with two twin beds on opposite walls, and a seating area with two high-back armchairs in front of a large floor-to-ceiling window.
A small kitchenette sat in the corner and there were two additional doors, one to a small bathroom and the other led to a closet.
“Wow, a lot better than I was expecting,” Seven said.
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know,” he threw his duffle down on one of the beds. “Bars on the windows?” He scrolled through a tablet mounted on the wall near the door. “Looks like we’re on beach duty first.”
I grunted in acknowledgement and spent the next few minutes tearing the room apart looking for cameras and bugs.
“Room’s clean,” I said. “The rest of the place is a nightmare though.”
The entire house was a mine field of cameras and keypads. Everything was programmed in a very intentional way, where if necessary, they could track every single move a person made.
“Having our every move tracked is not ideal,” Seven agreed as he continued to scroll through the tablet. “Man, the forest sounds rough.”
“What do you mean?” I sat down at the table and pulled out some of the gear we’d brought.
There had been a list of approved gear an individual was allowed to bring.
It included two hand guns and a rifle, but on top of that, we’d brought communications gear, a tablet and some other odds and ends we anticipated for extraction.
“This says to stay on the trails because there’s noxious gas that sits in certain areas that can cause hallucinations, trigger manic episodes and even cause death. Plants such as poison oak and stinging nettles—what the fuck—I guess there are traps too—”
“Traps?”
Seven read ahead and laughed incredulously. “Yeah, historically this place was a popular pirate hideaway, and then later it was used for some sort of black site testing during World War Two so there’s even a mine field—okay, let’s maybe skip the forest.”
I grunted a reply, already deep into rechecking my weapons.
Even though I’d already done it several times, there was never such a thing as too much prep work, so I did it all again.
It was calming and methodical work, and helped to calm my already frazzled nerves.
I was supposed to be the steady one, but all I’d felt since receiving that email was a pit in my stomach.
I’d never been patient, but this drive to act was visceral and urgent.
All I wanted to do was tear this place apart, find Emersyn and get the hell off the island.
Seven finished reading and swiped out of the information packet with a frown on his face.
He came to sit down across from me and organized some of the surveillance gear we’d brought.
We worked in a comfortable silence, each lost in our own dark thoughts.
When the last bullet was racked and there was nothing left to do, we looked at each other.
“Ready?” I asked.
He nodded. “Let’s go get our girl.”