Chapter 23 ALPHA-Ready
ALPHA-READY
SYDNEY
An hour later, she and Tank were SWAT-ready. Sydney checked her SIG and her Walther. After filling the magazines, she holstered them, strapped on her helmet, and pulled on her gloves.
Tank did a sweep of the room. “I’ve got my weapons. You all set?”
Sydney stood holding two rifle cases. “We got this.”
He took one from her. “Yes, we do.”
They left the hotel room, made their way down the hallway toward the elevator. A family with two young children were waiting.
“Are you a police?” asked the little boy.
“Yes,” Tank replied. “We are.”
“Are you going to the football game?” Sydney asked.
“Uh-huh,” answered the girl, who looked to be about seven. “Go Navy!”
The elevator doors opened and they waited for the family to enter before joining them.
“Why do you have a gun?” asked the boy.
“To keep you safe,” Sydney replied.
“Those are scary,” said the girl.
“They can be,” Sydney said. “That’s why you should never, ever touch one, right?”
The children stared up at her, their innocent faces searching hers. She offered a smile. As the elevator doors slid open, she said, “Have fun today.”
“Thanks for keeping us safe,” said the mom.
Sydney and Teddy waited for the doors to close. Alone in the elevator, he clasped her gloved hand. “We’re good.”
“I know.”
“We do our best, but this is a job, Sydney.”
The elevator doors opened in the underground parking garage. As they made their way to the ALPHA SUV, she said, “You can tell yourself that, but this mission is very important to you.”
At the vehicle, he unlocked the door, and she secured the rifle cases in the back before she rode shotgun beside him.
Once behind the wheel, he said, “You’re right, this mission does mean a lot to me, but you mean more. I need you to promise me you’ll be safe.”
Love filled her heart. “I will. Same for you.”
He started the engine, drove out. During the short ride over, Sydney pulled up a photo of the stadium. She needed to be as high as possible, but away from spectators. The stadium was open-arena style, so she didn’t have the advantage of standing on a partially-closed rooftop.
At the entrance gate, they were instructed to park in a small lot reserved for VIPs. Before they got out, she showed him the stadium photo.
“This looks like a press box on the south side of the stadium,” she said. “There’s a platform that hangs over the seating. I want to check this out.”
“Why not set up on the corner of the west side?” he asked. “It’s the highest location, plus you’ll have your back to the sun.”
“I’m concerned it’s too high,” she said. “I might not be able to see into the stands.”
“You’ll have spotters,” he said.
“That’ll help.”
“Pick who you want.”
“Caroline,” she said, without missing a beat. “There’s another platform on the north end that looks like it’s at the same elevation. I’ll want ALPHA Ops positioned on that, and along the top rows on all four sides, with several on the field.”
“You don’t want me spotting with you?” he asked.
She smiled. How could she not? He looked like a total badass, with lost puppy dog eyes. “You gotta guard the President.”
They exited the vehicle.
At the back of the SUV, Sydney removed the rifles from their cases. She shouldered her secondary rifle across her back, slung her weapons bag over her shoulder, and cradled her primary rifle in her arms.
This was it, and she was ready.
There would be no quick jaunt to the range to warm up, no opportunity to fire off a few practice rounds. If the terrorists were going to strike at the game, she had to take them out cold.
No other option.
And she had to make sure she didn’t kill a single innocent in the process.
Tank asked to speak with the head of stadium security.
A heavyset man bustled over, welcomed them to the stadium. “I’m Hal. The place is crawling with Secret Service,” he said as he shook their hands. “What are we expecting is gonna happen?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Sydney replied as she showed Hal the picture of the stadium. “I need to climb onto this. Can you help me?”
Up went his eyebrows. “That’s some crazy stuff, but sure.” He led them into the stadium, already busy with concession workers and swarming with local police.
“When do the cadets and midshipmen arrive?” she asked.
“They’re here,” Hal said. “They’re waiting in formation around the other side of the building. Once you get on top of the press box, you can see ‘em.”
“The game starts at three,” Tank said. “Gates open at noon, but tailgating has been going on for hours.”
Sydney checked her watch. Almost eleven o’clock.
Hal brought them to the press box. To her relief, the roof was flat.
“What’s the maximum weight on that?” Sydney asked.
“I have no idea,” Hal replied. “No one’s ever asked to set up on it.”
Sydney’s phone rang. It was Caroline. She answered. “I’m at the stadium. Where are you?”
“We just got here. The VIP lot is full, so they’re trying to figure out where to put us.”
“I’ve gotta climb up on a platform. Call me once you’re inside.” She hung up, handed Tank her primary rifle. “I’ll go first.”
She climbed the external rungs to the metal rooftop. A quick guestimate put it at twenty feet by twelve feet, but there were no sides on the structure. If she wasn’t careful, she could tumble off and into the stands. That’s where a spotter would make all the difference.
As Tank joined her, she set down her rifle and weapons bag.
From this location, she had a great view of the stadium. When she glanced down, she was too high to make out the faces of the football players practicing on the field, but that would be the spotters’ job.
She eyed the topmost parts of the structure, facing east and west. Either location would elevate her, but they’d have to clear the section of spectators. In seconds, she ruled those out.
Her phone rang. Caroline again. She answered, told her sister where she was, and hung up.
After peering across the stadium at the second press box, she focused her attention on the sky. A quick check of the weather app revealed a crystal-clear day. Few clouds, no precip in the forecast. Sunset at 4:40 pm.
Her chest tightened. She believed if Haqazzii was going to strike, it would be sooner than later.
“This is good,” Sydney said. “What do you think?”
Tank walked to the end of the platform, peered down. “Hal, where does the President watch the game?”
Hal answered, but Sydney had pulled out her tripod and gotten busy setting it up.
Seconds later, Tank walked back over to her and pointed. “The President will be in one of the three center luxury suites.”
She nodded, then hoisted her rifle onto the mount, stared through the lens. In a sea of thousands, she would be reluctant to open fire unless one-hundred-percent confident she would hit her target.
“You got company,” Hal called up.
Seconds later, Caroline climbed onto the platform, followed by Grey. Sydney joined them.
“Great spot,” Grey said.
“Yeah, I’m gonna work on my tan,” Sydney replied dryly.
“How are you doing?” Caroline asked.
“I’m doin’ okay, shweetheart,” Sydney said in her best gangster impersonation. “How you doin’?”
Caroline smiled. “I’m happy to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“I need you to be my spotter,” she said.
Caroline looked over her shoulder before pointing to herself. “Me? Not Tank?”
“Tank and Grey should be with the President. They have three skyboxes filled with family and guests. I don’t want to work with an Op—”
“I’m an Op—” Caroline said.
“You’re my sister, and I need someone who can read me, someone who knows me, someone I don’t have to filter my words with. If I need you to look left, I need you to look left. If I’m about to take a shot, I need you to be quiet.”
“Admit it,” Caroline replied, “you just like to boss me around.”
Sydney smiled.
“I got you,” Caroline said.
“Tank, will you be monitoring the terrorist chat rooms during the game?” Sydney asked.
“I can, but they go quiet the day of a strike.” He jumped on his phone.
Silence while they waited.
After a long minute, he said, “Nothing.” Then, his gaze shifted to Sydney. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Yuck,” she replied. “I can’t work on a full stomach.”
“It’s gonna be a long day,” he pushed back.
“No food,” she said.
“What about water?” Grey asked.
“We’ll have to use the bathroom,” Sydney replied. “I’d be gone for too long, same for Car. I’ll drink later. I’ll be doing a lot of drinking later.”
Grey walked to the edge. “Hal, who’s using this press box?”
“The Naval Academy folks are in this one. West Point’s across the field.”
Sydney joined Grey at the edge, peered down at Hal. “I can’t have anyone in this press box.”’
Hal’s eyes widened. “Oh, boy. That’s not gonna fly.”
If anyone opened or shut the press box door when she fired her rifle, that would jolt the platform. It could affect the trajectory of the bullet, it would most definitely affect her concentration, and it could have devastating results.
“Nobody in this booth,” Sydney pushed back, then glanced at Grey. “You gotta make that happen.”
“I got you,” Grey said.
“The press box stays locked,” Sydney added.
“Love how calm you are, Syd,” Caroline said.
“Nerves of steel,” she said dryly. “Gotta keep it together. So, I’ll need BLACK OPS posted on either side of this building. If someone decides it would be super cool to climb up and say hey, it’ll turn into a hot mess real quick.”
“Done,” Tank said. “What else?”
“Spotters throughout the stadium.” She started pointing to various locations.
“At least ten, but the more help I have, the better. And the most important thing… I will need confirmation. I will not—I repeat—I will not open fire if we don’t have a one-hundred-percent confidence level.
I’ve got a perfect track record that I am not screwing up today. ”
Tank extended his hand to her. “I got you, both of you.”