Chapter 4
The archaic window air conditioning unit sputtered and coughed to life, fighting a losing battle against the heat, as the small multicolored plastic streamers snapped and crackled out from the vent.
The Pit took up the entire end of the trailer, with one long table in the middle and metal folding chairs strewn in clusters around the room.
Delta Force, a specialized team who’d also been assigned to track down the Senator’s daughter, would be here any minute and he might finally be able to find his girl. If he could force himself to wait.
Aaron closed his eyes and leaned back, crossing his ankles and threading his fingers together over his belly, appearing for all the world a man relaxed, but his thoughts tumbled relentlessly to last month and the last time Celine had smiled at him. The last time she kissed him.
She'd launched into his arms, leaving him no choice but to catch her, and her delicate arms wrapped around his neck. She'd taken that first kiss from him, sweet, sensual and commanding, she demanded that he respond. And he'd been completely helpless to resist.
“I swear, you can take a nap anywhere.”
Aaron opened his eyes to see Merc towering over him, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed.
“If I'm not mistaken, I caught you dozing a time or two, too.” Aaron closed his eyes again. The meeting wouldn't start until all of Task Force Scorpion, TF-S, and Delta Force assembled.
“Yeah, you caught me napping one time. I'd gone two days straight with no break. Pretty sure that is a record.”
Aaron smiled, that was the only time he'd ever seen Merc display the slightest weakness. They'd been set up in a blind, cooking in the jungle heat on a drug cartel recon mission. When he'd seen Merc's eyes closed, he'd almost poked him to see if he was dead.
“It's okay, brother. I'll babysit you anytime.”
Aaron heard Merc snort and his heavy footfalls as he walked across the room. “Who the hell thought it would be a good idea to put this ancient piece of shit in here for an air conditioning unit?”
“Uncle Sam I bet. If you wanted coddling, you should've joined the Air Force.” Actually, their headquarters wasn't half bad compared to some of the places they'd been. At least here they had a roof over their head, an attempt at a/c and real beds.
“You got that right. Probably be put up in a four-star hotel right now drinking a beer with a chick on my arm,” Merc replied.
And just like that Aaron was thrust back into the vortex of guilt.
He'd had female company and he'd been lazy and sloppy and lost her.
Hell, why was he having such a strong reaction?
It wasn't like he spent years with Celine, or that they had really even dated. They’d had sex. That was it. One time.
And that had rocked his very core.
“Shit, man. Sorry I forgot for a minute.”
Aaron sat up and shoved a hand through his brown hair, not surprised that it was already dry in this heat. Normally his hair was thick and straight, but here it curled a little bit. “It's all right. When’s the rest of team supposed to get here?”
He was so tired of the guilt eating him alive. He needed action, needed to do something to fix the problem, but more than anything he needed to get Celine Latimer back in his arms even if he didn't understand why.
“How about right now?”
Aaron spun around to see Hunter enter the room, dressed in desert BDUs and carrying a “Got some new intel.”
Their team leader, Hunter, and his brother, Ranger, assistant team leader were followed by Jared, Hoyt and Cord, the team’s snipers. Riser, weapons specialist and assistant medic came before Ethan.
The men circled around the long table and watched in silence as Hunter pulled some papers from the folder he'd been carrying. “Our satellites caught an explosion here, in Helmand province.”
“Helmand? What the hell is out there?” The province was nearly all desert, a few poor farmers spread out over the whole area, definitely not populated.
“Not much, but one of our drones happened to be on a fly by and caught some movement and started recording. About thirty minutes later, satellites detected a fairly large explosion. We pulled the feed from the drone and this is what we found.”
Hunter threw down the papers, which turned out to be photographs. Aaron snatched up the nearest one, nearly crushing it in his grip when he glimpsed the photo. A line of black SUVs parked in front of a ramshackle village. Multiple men with guns. Two women being carried to the line of vehicles.
Aaron pulled the photo closer. One girl had short blond hair, just like Celine.
“How the hell did you get this?”
“Luck, man. The drone was in the right place at the right time. That’s it.”
Explosions in the Middle East were about as common as popsicles in July in Mississippi, but not out in the middle of the desert with no witnesses and minimal casualties. That was the exact opposite goal of any terrorist organization's standard operation procedures.
“You able to track the vehicles?” Aaron asked.
“We got a plate on the first one, the other is unmarked. Traced the number back to a compound in the middle of Kabul. Pulled the satellite footage, it’s about a four-hour ride from here.” Hunter handed over another aerial photo of a compound surrounded by a large concrete fence.
“You get a name?” Aaron asked.
“Just a fake. Abdul Jamar. He came into existence about a year ago. But I've still got intel searching for records, just in case he's used that name before.”
Hunter's phone chirped at his belt buckle and he answered it, stepping from the group of men. “What do you have for me?”
While Hunter stepped into his conversation, Aaron tapped on the girls’ photo again. “Did you get a shot of them being carried into his compound?”
“No, unfortunately. But I'm working on it. Can't tell if they were unconscious. We'll have to plan on carrying them out.”
“And make sure me and Riser are on the ground for medical. I've got my bag ready to go.” They could be drugged or knocked out or worse.
His stomach knotted just thinking about all the possibilities of what Celine and Caroline had been through.
He'd been in enough battles to see the truly ugly nature of some men and the vicious evil they were capable of doing to women.
He nearly broke out in a cold sweat thinking about what he'd seen before and the fact that Celine could be suffering right now without anyone there to protect her.
“Ranger, interrupt me if you disagree, but I think we should break into two teams. One for assault/breach and one for support by fire. We can put our snipers on over watch,” Aaron said.
Hunter shoved his phone into his pocket. “Change of plans. A’idah just confirmed they've contacted Sven Panchenko. He's supposed to arrive this afternoon.”
“You sure?” Ranger paled.
Aaron tried to read him, but he avoided his gaze. “Who the fuck is Panchenko?”
Hunter's deep voice filled the silence. “Russian human trafficking. His boss, Dmitri, has a particular fondness for young blondes.”
Dread rolled through Aaron. Girls that went into Russia that way never came out alive. “We move, now.”
“They're moving the girls for the drop. Meeting in Herat Province, remote location. Mountains are thick up there, so if we move in early, we can set up high for an ambush,” Hunter said.
“That's at least four hours from here,” Riser said. His second for medical went to the large topographic map on the far wall. “We might need a bird to extract the girls if they're non-mobile.”
“We can get a helo in from Bagram Airfield,” Ranger said, “I've got a buddy there right now.”
“So, let’s set up Jared on the south mountain, and Hoyt on the north mountain for over watch.
The rest of us will break into teams, each moving in from different locations and set up blocks on the road in and out of the meeting area,” Hunter joined Riser next to the map, pointing as he spoke, his dark hair a stark contrast next to Riser's blond. “What do you think, Aaron?”
“I like it. Our snipers can take out anyone if they get past our road blocks after the meet and drop. We try to keep as many alive as possible for intel.”
Ethan stepped forward. “But if the girls’ lives are at risk...”
“We take them out,” said Hoyt Crowe, his lips pulled to the side from a deep scar up his cheek.
Before his captivity and torture, he'd been all smooth and easy going, but now, the sniper rarely left his fiancée, Hayden, or spoke.
In spite of or because of his trauma, his accuracy with a rifle had only improved after he recovered and Aaron wouldn't want anyone else guarding Celine.
“I agree,” Aaron said.
“Me, too,” Hoyt’s brother Jared chimed in.
Merc, the silent one, stepped in and rapped his knuckles on the plastic table. “Anyone else ready to kick some ass?”