Chapter Four
Chance didn’t want civilians in danger, and he hadn’t signed up to sit back and twiddle his thumbs. Still, seconds ticked by, and Jared didn’t share anything. Instead, he and Parker managed to have an intense, nonverbal conversation, leaving Chance to guess at what was happening.
He came up short. Both men were impossible to read. Jared didn’t let anything slip from his close control beyond what the big guy wanted Chance to know. Parker, less guarded but more analytical in nature, played his cards close to the vest as well.
Both men seemed like good people to work with. Chance even liked Boss Man all right. So far, he’d been fair. Even when he was an asshole.
“Something funny, Midas?” Jared barked.
He hadn’t realized he’d been smirking. “No, sir.”
Across the table, Camden coughed to cover a laugh.
Sawyer didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “That’s Chance’s happy grin. The man’s ready to get to work.”
“Not a lie.” Chance leaned back in his chair.
“Anyone else? Hagan?” Jared groused and muttered, “Anyone got anything to add to this chit-chat before we get down to work?”
“Well.” Hagan placed his elbows on the table. “I—”
“For fuck’s sake, Hagan. No. Your answer is no.” Jared rubbed the back of his neck. “Son of a bitch. Now, as I was saying…”
If Chance were a betting man, he’d guess that their team bullshitting around the table pleased Jared to no end.
Even if he constantly reminded them that he wasn’t ready for their team and they weren’t ready, period.
The more Boss Man said that, the more Chance thought he approved of their work.
They meshed well. Chance had fallen in with a handful of the guys—Liam, Hagan, Camden, and Sawyer—and got along with others.
Though, he got along with just about everyone.
Noticing the quiet that had fallen over the room, Chance refocused on Jared. He glared at Parker until he stopped typing. “If you’re finished sending dirty messages to your special lady friend.”
Parker smirked but didn’t deny it.
Boss Man shook his head then slammed a fist on the table like a judge ordering a court to order. “Thane Insurance. Everyone knows them?”
Hagan snorted and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Who doesn’t?”
Sawyer hummed their familiar jingle.
Camden chucked a pen at Sawyer. “Thanks, asshole. Now I’ve got that stupid jingle in my head.”
“‘Risk it all. We’ll cover your ass,’” Sawyer belted for Camden’s benefit.
“Right. Those people,” Jared confirmed. “And you all know Dax Thane.”
Chance nodded. Some guys rolled their eyes.
It wasn’t possible to exist in this world and not know Dax Thane.
A world-class pretentious prick. Dax Thane might be the exception to Chance’s belief he could get along with anyone.
The guy was a social media showman, the P.T.
Barnum of the insurance world. His recognizable face was plastered on every Thane Insurance ad, along with that smiling donkey in the football helmet.
Sawyer took the pen that had landed in front of him and tucked it behind his ear. “What’s that walking ego gotten himself into now?”
“Something that needs a rescue.” Hagan elbowed Sawyer.
Jared rolled his eyes. “You guys need to get out more.”
“That’s the truth,” Parker chuckled.
“Our newest client is Thane Insurance.” Jared’s lips thinned before he added, “And their esteemed leader has found himself in something of a hostage situation.”
The room settled down. Chance leaned forward. Hostage situations were interesting, even if they involved Dax Thane.
“Everyone’s favorite billionaire stepped in it big this time,” Jared explained. “In one of the most dangerous places on the damn planet.”
Of course Dax did. But, where? Each man in this room would have a short though debatable list of the worst places.
Jared pursed his lips. “We’re going in for the rescue, but be prepared to hear online about how far Thane Insurance will go to protect its client base.”
They were going to risk their lives so Dax Thane could score a few publicity points? Chance wanted to work but maybe not as much as he’d thought.
Hagan hunched forward, dragging his hands down his face as he shook his head. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”
Jared’s face darkened. “We can bitch and debate all we want about that guy. But this is the game changer. He brought along his loving family.”
“His wife and four-year-old son,” Parker clarified.
At that, a low grumble erupted from around the table. Jared and Parker remained stoically expressionless, but neither told the team to shut up.
After the ‘what the hells’ and ‘asshats’ were done, Jared called for quiet again. “Our job isn’t to provide a running commentary. It’s to save lives and keep our own.”
“So where we are talking about, boss?” Sawyer asked. “Syria?”
Syria was the leading contender on Chance’s list of shitty places to avoid.
“Bingo.” Jared’s jaw twitched. “Parker, fill ’em in.”
“From what we can tell.” Parker shut his laptop. “The Thane family is in or near a Syrian refugee camp outside of Aleppo.”
“Sounds like a high-stakes mission for a high-stakes—” Hagan caught a short look from Jared, obviously censoring himself as he finished, “client.”
“They’re high-value targets.” Jared’s glare eased. “No one is in better position to rescue the HVTs than this team.”
A totally preventable hostage situation. Chance chewed the inside of his mouth. The HVTs should never have been in Syria. That was the problem with people with too much money. Were they so bored that they had to invent life-or-death problems?
Parker removed a folder from a shelf behind him and passed out the mission details. “We have five HVTs.”
Chance flipped to the page profiling the family.
Parker continued, “Dax Thane; his wife, Gigi Thane; their son, Teddy Thane. Then there’s the nanny and a photographer.” He retook his seat and ran through the pertinent information on the family. “No security.”
Chance skimmed ahead, disgusted that the parents had brought their kid, and of course, that they couldn’t leave the nanny and photographer behind on their suicide mission.
“Forty-eight hours have passed since they landed,” Parker explained. “A ransom request of fifty million dollars came into Thane HQ last night. The abductors swear that once that money is deposited into their account, they’ll let the prisoners go.”
“Right,” one of the other guys said. “We all know how honest rebels who abduct billionaire families tend to be.”
“In your mission packets, we’ve designed a plan for every contingency,” Parker said. “Ranked by threat analysis and a risk assessment to human collateral.”
That was a cold, scientific way to categorize the situation, including the possibility of death. Chance grumbled, “We’ve got intel on the exact location of this refugee camp?”
“Nothing’s exact, and there’s more than one camp.” Parker flipped through their briefing papers. “Best we can do is piece together a series of delayed satellite shots and layer it with a thermal map from friendly drones.”
“Sounds far from exact,” Sawyer added.
Parker’s jaw tightened. “Statistically, we have a pretty good idea of the location.”
“And that’s saying a hell of a lot,” Jared grumbled, continuing to explain the best option that came with the smallest amount of risk.
Their course of action depended on how the ransom exchange and ensuing negotiation would fall out.
The quick and short explanation was for a secondary team to fly in and haul ass out, preferably with the HVTs in tow, when the ransom exchange went bad.
Parker directed the room to turn the page of their briefings to the possibilities of schematic.
Various entry and exit points were mapped across what was an always-changing landscape.
They didn’t have hard data on the site because blocks of what was once a city were now obliterated, abandoned buildings.
Some called it a fucking wasteland. Others, a humanitarian crisis.
The only thing Chance knew for certain about Aleppo was that the urban area had been decimated by war over the years, making it completely uninhabitable.
Anyone still living there was in danger, while anyone who fled for their life had been labeled a refugee.
“We’ll divide into two teams. One will arrive by vehicle.” Jared thumped a fist on the schematic. “The area’s marked on your map.”
“Who chose the location?” Hagan asked.
“Thane Insurance agreed to the ransom and terms prior to contacting Titan Group.”
“That was smart,” Sawyer muttered, rolling his eyes.
“When the deal goes south,” Jared said by way of agreement, “the secondary team will already be airborne. Collect the family and go.” Jared met the eyes of all the guys, one by one. “Got it?”
They all nodded.
“We’ve got to do this right the first time,” Jared added. “We fuck up, and there’ll be hell to pay.”
Chance shifted to the edge of his chair.
Jared cracked his knuckles again. “One final thing that’s not in your briefing.
You know what kind of trouble to expect in Syria, but you need to know what kind of people we’re going in for.
” He paused as though searching for the right words.
Tension ticked on his face. Diplomatically, he continued, “The contract was for the family. No specifics for the staff.” Jared’s jaw set.
“Once you’ve thought that over, forget about it. We don’t leave without everyone.”
Whoa. That kind of disloyalty hit Chance like a concrete-cast sucker punch.
“Any other questions?” Boss Man met every person’s gaze, one by one.
When he reached Chance, his personal turmoil brewed.
He had several questions, starting with what kind of idiot would work for Dax Thane?
And, what kind of parent would travel to Syria despite the government travel warnings?
Chance didn’t want to be around any of those people, whether they were family or staff.
“Midas?” Jared asked.
“None,” Chance managed.
The meeting wrapped, and they filed out, marching orders in hand.
Syria occupied Chance’s mind. He’d been there years ago. Right outside of Aleppo, too. His first tour. When he’d left, he clearly remembered thinking the same thing. You couldn’t pay me enough to go back there. Guess he was wrong.
If there wasn’t a kid involved, Chance might wonder if it would be better to let natural selection do its job. But the kid didn’t deserve to die just because he was surrounded by fools.