Chapter 18 #2
“About fifteen seconds later,” Rafe adds, “I’ll head out with Tyler, Grover, and Trigger, and we’ll hide in the secondary cluster of trees to the east of the house. Saint will stay with the van, and as soon as he gets the signal, he’ll drive to the house to pick us up.”
“I’ll be watching for any unwelcome visitors, also,” Saint says. “Hopefully, at this time of night, we won’t have any. But just in case.”
In the dark of the car, Rafe’s features are lit only by the faint glow from Tyler’s laptop.
His expression is hard. Fierce. Determined.
“Once we’re all at the midway point, we’ll confirm that everyone’s ready.
Then Ace’s group will head out first.” He stops to look at me. “You’ve got the flashbangs, right?”
He knows I do, but I’m not offended by him asking. If I were leading the op, I’d do the same thing. Better overprepared than underprepared, and all that.
“I do,” I reply, patting my vest pocket. “Three of them.”
“Good.” Rafe nods again. “Once the flashbangs go off, we’ll all head in. Ace and Yara, you’ll look for Malik. The rest of us will engage the tangos.” He pauses. “We want confirmation that Malik is there before we decide what to do with them. Not that we think your intel is wrong, Ty. But—”
“I get it,” Tyler interrupts. “My source is good, but there’s always a possibility he’s mistaken. Or that Malik was moved.”
While searching for Malik, Tyler drew on the help of Leo and Matt, the other two computer experts for the Alpha and Bravo teams. But he also put out a call to a few other contacts, including one who works for the clandestine arm of the CIA, the Special Activities Center.
And that’s where we found the info that led us here.
“Assuming these are the guys who’ve been keeping Malik,” Rafe says, his voice dipping dangerously, “I think we all know what to do.”
No one needs to respond. We know what Rafe means.
“Here we are,” Saint says. He slows the van even further, then steers it off the dirt road and onto the patchy grass. As the satellite images promised, there’s a small thicket of maybe twenty trees or so, enough to disguise the van, especially at this time of night.
Saint shuts the car off, explaining, “Just in case anyone drives by with their window open. I don’t want them to hear the engine idling.”
Rafe turns in his seat. “Are we all ready to move out?”
“Affirmative,” Grover replies. All but one of us—Yara—echo the same.
“Guys,” Yara says quietly. Somberly. “I just want to say”—her hand tightens around mine—“thank you. For coming here. I know what a risk we’re taking. Sneaking into Iran, breaking who knows how many rules…”
She’s not wrong. The risk we’re taking is tremendous. But the alternative—waiting months for the military to stage their own rescue—isn’t acceptable. Not knowing Malik is still out there, nearly out of hope but still hanging on.
And, shit. What if I could have rescued Yara sooner? Or Sawyer? Would there have ever been a question, if I had the intel and resources to do it?
“Sometimes rules need to be broken,” Rafe interrupts. “And this time is one of them.”
“Malik was my teammate, too,” Saint adds. “You think anything was going to keep me from coming?”
“We don’t leave brothers behind,” Grover says. “Or sisters. Or people we love.” He stops, no doubt thinking about his wife, Sierra, who was held hostage for nearly a year before he found her. “Not when we can do something about it.”
Indy turns in his seat, then rests his prosthetic hand on Yara’s knee. “You’re family, Yara. Which means Malik is part of our family, too. And we’d do anything for family.”
Yara glances at me. The bit of light in the van catches the tears in her eyes.
Though we’re seconds from rolling out, I can’t resist giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll do anything for you,” I murmur, meaning it with all my heart. “Anything.”
Those three words fill my mouth, so big it’s almost impossible not to say them. But I can’t. Not now. I can’t risk the distraction. But later…
Once we get out of this, I have to tell her.
“Okay, so now are we ready to go?” Rafe asks with a hint of amusement. He reaches back to pat Yara’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get on with this.”
Yara forces a tiny smile. “Let’s do it.”
Rafe casts a quick look around the interior of the van. “Weapons ready?”
“Affirmative,” we all reply.
“Comms working?”
Everyone taps their earpieces to turn them on. When Rafe asks if we can hear him, our responses sound in our ears, just as they should.
“Okay,” Rafe says. He pulls his night vision goggles over his eyes. “On my signal.”
His hand comes up.
I put my hand on the door handle, ready to open it.
A second later, Rafe’s hand comes down.
Like silent shadows, we slip from the van and into the trees, where we gather into a huddle again.
In the direction of the building where Malik is supposed to be, a flickering light glows.
Tyler pulls out a thermal camera and scans our surroundings, his action bringing back memories of the day Garrett died. The pain of it comes so swiftly, so intensely, I can’t completely cover my sharp intake of breath.
Yara glances at me, her gaze disguised by her goggles.
But if I could see behind them, I know I’d see worry in her eyes.
Because she knows about that day. Not just the basics I revealed after my nightmare, but the details of it that I told her later.
So she knows about Alec and his thermal camera.
And she probably knows I’m having a flashback to it now.
Reaching for her hand, I lace my fingers between hers.
Is it the right time to be holding my girlfriend’s hand? No.
Do I care? Not really. Not when her touch is the only thing that eases my anxiety.
The old Ace wouldn’t have wanted to admit such a weakness. Except, is it a weakness, really? I used to think so. But now? I’m not so sure.
Something Yara told me a few days ago comes back to me.
She busted me checking the locks for the fourth time—and yes, I know it’s ridiculous considering how much security we have at the B and A headquarters, but I couldn’t help myself—and gently veered me over to the couch.
“Maybe you should talk to someone about it,” she suggested.
“I did. And it helped. It didn’t make everything better, but it helped. ”
“Maybe,” I told her vaguely, inwardly cringing at the thought of revealing my inner thoughts and fears to a complete stranger. “I’ll think about it.”
“Or you could tell your teammates,” she added. “They’d understand. I know they would.”