Chapter Forty-Seven
Helios
“We’ll get back to you.” I ended the call with Cypher.
“That’s a nine-seater seaplane, Ares. You still gonna tell me this is a fucking coincidence?
The Vulture lands in Miami with eight hired guns.
Then shows his ass at the farmer’s market, Haven hightails it home, and it’s radio silence for thirty-fucking-six hours?
While I was on my bike, Haven was on a run, and you were who the fuck knows where?
That was an easy-as-shit kill or capture when we were all solo. ”
“Not easy,” Ares argued. “Feralyn said al-Hashimi knew we were Delta.”
I got his fucking point. Neither of us would’ve gone down easy, but a sniper round was a fucking sniper round.
“They could’ve offed or grabbed any of us.
An eight-man tactical team should’ve been able to do that shit with their eyes closed.
Except nothing fucking happened. But now that we’re watching and Haven’s remote, this shit pops?
This isn’t one isolated incident, Ares. The Vulture’s bunkhouse yacht is empty, there’re no pay-to-play Russian mercs in sight, and a ghost flight is heading directly over Blue Island. We need to get the fuck back there.”
“We need confirmation.”
“How much more fucking confirmation do you want? A goddamn invitation?”
“There are over three hundred and sixty islands in the Exumas,” he stated, calm as shit.
“One.” I held my fucking finger up. “One goddamn island with a private asphalt airstrip.” And I owned it. “Drive to Executive airport.”
Ares kept fucking talking like I hadn’t said shit. “We masked the flight in and out when we dropped her off. All of our devices were encrypted. We built redundant security systems for the island, and there’s a bomb-proof panic room. Feralyn is safe with Saint.”
“Start the fucking truck, Ares.”
“If we head over now, we could be leading al-Hashimi directly to her.”
“If we don’t go now, whoever the fuck leaked the intel gets there before us.” And I sure as hell wasn’t risking that.
“You don’t know that there’s a leak.”
“How the fuck else could al-Hashimi have tracked her?”
“How has he stayed off the radar all these years?”
“Don’t know. Don’t fucking care.” I only wanted the motherfucker dead.
“You don’t want to know why he showed up now? Eight years after the fact?”
“No.” I didn’t make a habit of getting into the heads of fucking psychopaths.
“That fucking vulture could have a million reasons. Doesn’t matter.
Landscape’s ripe for a new leader.” By taking out hundreds of terrorist assholes months ago, Ghost had pulled off the ultimate chess move.
He’d also left the game board wide open for a new regime.
Normally, I didn’t think about that shit.
It was job security. But in this case, I was fucking thinking about it.
“Haven’s a loose end for al-Hashimi on three fucking fronts.
Her escape eight years ago, her relation to Ghost, and the fact that she’s attached to us and Paragon Ops by proxy.
Getting to Haven, going through us, that shit gives the Vulture all the street cred he needs to backfill his cousin’s shoes.
Sitting here on our asses is wasting motherfucking time.
We’re heading back to the island. Right fucking now. ”
Ares stared at me a beat. Then he started the SUV and made a call.
A ring sounded through the Yukon’s speakers before Cypher picked up. “Ares.”
“Helios and I are Oscar Mike.”
“Copy. Location?”
I threw Ares a warning look, but he was already ignoring Cypher’s question. “Relay to Nix and Chaos to hold position for another hour, then they can bug out. Also, quick favor. Check the encryption status of all our devices, including Saint’s and Feralyn’s.”
“That’s two favors.” Cypher started typing. “Also, this is your brother’s op. Why aren’t you or Helios giving Nix and Chaos a sitrep? I can guarantee none of your comms are compromised.”
“Run the check,” Ares ordered Cypher as he drove away from the Miami Beach Marina.
“Already on it. Message relayed to Nix and Chaos via text. All devices encrypted. Now tell me what the hell’s going on,” Cypher demanded.
Before Ares said anything else, I ended the call. “When we get to Executive, wipe our digital footprint while I do prechecks.”
“Cypher tracks the Denalis.” Ares stopped for a light. “He’ll know we’re there before I wipe anything.”
I heard the supersport coming in fast. “Doesn’t matter.” I glanced out the passenger side of the SUV. Fucking Chaos. The MV Agusta F3 pulled up alongside us. “Once we’re in the air, you’re gonna turn us into a ghost flight.”
“If al-Hashimi is on that Cessna, if they’re heading to your island, if they’re already there, flying in on your Citation will tip them off from a mile away,” Ares warned.
“That’s the whole goddamn point.” Show of force. “Tactical advantage.”
“Is there any point in reminding you there are two of us?”
“No.” Ares and I had gone up against a hell of a lot more than eight hired guns before. “And they’re not gonna know how many of us are in the damn jet.” I rolled down my window.
“Unless they have thermal imaging,” Ares countered.
“Then we’ll turn the flight into a fucking sauna.” I looked at Chaos as he flipped up his visor. “You had orders to bug out.”
“And you saved my life. Twice.” He tipped his chin toward Ares before looking back at me.
“Like I’ve said before, I’m a Church of Grayson Brothers convert.
Don’t hate the sinner. Hate the religion.
Where you go, I go. Besides, we all know al-Hashimi and his Russian guns were long fucking gone before we got here.
Nix is already heading back to the Paragon.
Let’s find this asshole and fucking eliminate him.
” Chaos flipped down his visor and revved the engine as the light turned green.
“Christ.” I rolled up my window. “Think we can lose Chaos on the way to Miami Executive?”
Before Ares could reply, my cell rang.
Glancing at the caller ID, I cursed before swiping to answer. “Saint. What’s up?”
“We’ve got company. Security was breached on the northern end of the island. Your sister is secure in the safe room.”
“Where the fuck are you?” If he’d left her side for one goddamn second, I was going to shoot him.
“We’re both secure.”
“Good. Fucking keep it that way. We’re Oscar Mike.” I glanced at my watch. “ETA hour thirty to touchdown, max.”
“Roger that.”
“Listen up.” This fucker needed to feel me. “If a single hair on her head is harmed, I’m fucking dismembering you.” I’d deal with him calling her my sister later. “You copy?”
“Lima Charlie.” The prick hung up.