Chapter 18
ACE
Fuck, I wish Yara had agreed to stay home.
As our van bumps down the dirt road, I can’t stop thinking of all the ways this op could go horribly wrong.
Going in blind like this, not knowing how well prepared our opponents will be, what kind of security the building has… and that’s not even considering the dangers facing us on the way back out of the country.
Shit, anything could happen.
The ground outside the house we’re headed to could be armed with tripwires, where one wrong step could mean death.
A stray bullet could catch one of us in the shoulder or thigh, severing an artery.
Malik’s captors could decide to blow up the building, rather than allow us to rescue him. I could end up crouched over another person I care about, watching their life fade away before my eyes.
And if Yara gets hurt? If I lose her, like I did in my nightmare? If I fail to protect the woman I’ve fallen in love with?
Fuck. Just the thought of it makes my heart feel like it’s dying.
“We’re less than one klick out,” Saint reports.
His icy blue eyes appear in the rearview mirror, calm and determined.
Yara’s former teammate has been enviably confident from the moment he arrived in Portland to join us on this mission.
One of the first things he said during our initial planning meeting was, “If Malik survived this long, it wasn’t for nothing.
We’re going to get him out. I’m sure of it. ”
If I wasn’t so damn scared for Yara, I might be more confident, too. After all, rescuing a hostage from enemy territory isn’t something new for me. In the Green Berets, and more frequently, Delta, we were often sent in on high-stakes rescue missions. And up until now, I’ve never failed.
Really? the doubting voice in my head asks. Never failed? What about Garrett? Sawyer? The op when you froze up and endangered your entire team?
That was different, I silently argue. With Garrett and Sawyer, we were set up to fail. And that one time…
Shit.
I could freeze up again, in theory. So could Yara. She could be triggered by any number of things—the sound of gunfire, explosions, blood—and end up in even more danger than she is already.
An image flashes before my eyes, of Yara standing stock-still in the middle of a room, her face ghost-pale and her eyes glazed over, caught up in her memories instead of the present.
I rush towards her, shouting for her to snap out of it, to get down, but before I reach her, she’s hit by a barrage of bullets.
And by the time I do, she’s lying on the ground in a pool of blood, crimson bubbling from her mouth, and—
“According to satellite images, there should be a cluster of trees on the right-hand side of the road,” Tyler says. He’s sitting in the passenger seat, staring down at his laptop. “Just about five hundred yards from the building. We still want to hide the van there?”
From the second row of seats, Rafe leans over Tyler’s shoulder to look at the laptop screen.
“I think we have to,” he replies. “As much as I’d like to park closer, there just isn’t enough cover.
” He turns to glance at Grover and Trigger, two guys I knew from Delta and old friends of Malik’s. “You guys comfortable with that?”
If it were just the Shadow team involved, Rafe wouldn’t have to ask. He’d know we trust his judgement. But with several non-Blade and Arrow members involved in the mission, I can understand why Rafe wants them to feel included.
When we first discussed this ambitious plan ten days ago, sitting around the conference table at HQ, I assumed it would be strictly B and A going.
But then Yara brought up bringing Saint in on the op.
“Ford has a kid, and Kai’s wife is expecting,” she explained, “so I wouldn’t want to ask them to take such a risk.
But I think Saint would want to be a part of it.
He and Malik were best friends, after all. ”
Yara was right. As soon as she asked him, Saint was in.
And then Saint mentioned Grover and Trigger, who were old friends of Malik’s back from their early days in the Army.
“I think they’d want in,” Saint told us.
“Especially Grover. Since he was held hostage himself. And you know them, don’t you, Ace?
” he asked. “They’re real stand-up guys. I think they’d be a real asset.”
Our times in Delta didn’t overlap much, so I don’t know them particularly well, but as soon as Saint brought up their names, I had to agree. Adding two more skilled operators to our mission would only improve our chances of success. And Grover and Trigger are some of the best.
So now we have seven people crowded into this rusty van—me, Yara, Rafe, Indy, Tyler, Saint, Grover, and Trigger. Webb’s back home, keeping an eye on HQ. It’s how we always do it, keeping one team member back at home to manage emergencies and protect the women, if necessary.
I wish Yara was back there, too. Not because she’s some helpless woman who needs protecting, but… Shit. I don’t want her here, even though she has every right to be. After all, if not for the comment Davis made to her, we wouldn’t have known to look into Malik’s death.
We—well, Tyler, really—wouldn’t have discovered that Malik’s death was faked, and the DNA evidence the Army found in a mass grave was only from a finger, but nothing else.
It’s not pleasant thinking about how the finger got there.
After it came up during one of our planning meetings, Yara came back to the apartment and burst into tears.
“I didn’t know,” she sobbed. “We were only told there was DNA evidence. Not that it was his finger.” She looked at me, stricken.
“What have they been doing to him, Ace? All this time, and I didn’t know. ”
Fuck, I hope we get him out of there. I’m not sure how I’ll face Yara if we don’t.
“Looks like the best spot to me,” Trigger answers. He lifts his chin at Rafe. “With it being dark, we should be able to reach the building undetected.”
“Agreed,” Grover adds. “And around here, there won’t be any light pollution to screw things up.”
“Good call, waiting the extra day for the new moon,” Indy adds. He glances back at Yara, his expression sympathetic. “I know it sucks, waiting. Especially knowing he’s right there…”
“It makes sense,” Yara replies. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it hard. “Rationally, I know one more day shouldn’t matter.”
I give her hand an answering squeeze. “You want to get him out. We get it.”
“We all want to get him out,” Saint adds. His gaze moves to the rearview mirror again, searching for Yara in the third row of seats. “And we will, Tink. We’re not going back without him.”
His words send a cold shiver down my back. I know he means we’re all going back to the States, Malik included. But I don’t like the other way his words could be taken—that our mission will fail and none of us make it home alive.
“The trees should be just around the curve in the road,” Tyler interjects. He gestures with his chin in that direction. “It’s not a forest by any means, but there should be enough to hide the van until we’re ready to leave.”
Saint nods. “Got it.” He pulls down his night-vision goggles and flicks the headlights off. “Going dark on approach.”
The tension inside the van thickens.
Everyone sits up even straighter.
There’s a collective inhale, as everyone prepares for what’s coming next.
Our plan is as sound as it can get, but it’s still far from a sure thing.
We won’t have much cover on approach, not in this part of Iran, with just a smattering of trees to shield us.
Though the area we’re in is relatively unpopulated, people still live here.
People who might notice an unfamiliar van and be suspicious.
People who might spot us making our way to the building where Malik is supposedly being held and raise the alarm.
If that happens, the mission becomes much more complicated. We don’t want to hurt an innocent local whose only mistake is being at the wrong place at the wrong time. But faced with possible exposure, we might not have a choice.
“Okay,” Rafe says. His voice takes on a low, commanding tone. “Let’s go over this one last time.”
The van hits a large divot in the road, bouncing us off our seats.
Saint mutters an unintelligible curse. “Sorry. I didn’t see that one.”
I wrap my arm around Yara, holding her steady. I know she’s capable of doing it herself. But dammit, I need to touch her. Feel her body snugged up against me.
She leans her head close to mine and whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” I whisper back.
“Because I know me being here is making you anxious,” she replies, soft enough that no one else can hear her. “I know you didn’t want me to come.”
She’s right. On both parts. My anxiety is worse than it’s been in years.
And I desperately wish Yara was back at B and A, being supported by Webb, Eden, Bea, and Noelle.
They’d all be gathered at Eden’s house, most likely, watching TV while Bea cooks like crazy—the same routine they always follow whenever the team has to leave on a job with any element of danger.
“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it,” I reply, still keeping my voice low. “I know you can. It’s just…”
“You’re worried about me,” she finishes. “I get it. Because I’m worried about you, too.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say automatically. “Don’t worry about me.”
Yara shoots me an are you kidding me look. Then she elbows me in the ribs. “That’s about as dumb as telling you not to worry about me.”
Fair.
But before I can tell Yara she’s right—again, she has a habit of it—Rafe starts talking again.
“I know we’ve been through this,” he says. “But better overprepared than under.”
Grover nods. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“So,” Rafe continues, “once the van is hidden, Ace, Yara, and Indy, you’ll move out first. According to the sat images, there should be a small cluster of trees about halfway to the house, so you’ll stop there before making the final approach.”
Indy, Yara, and I all make soft sounds of affirmation.