He sat alone in the darkened theater. The only active screen was the live video feed. Two bastards had come in and shaken Danielle awake. They forced her to drink and slapped her when she refused. Now, she cowered on the floor in the corner of the bare cell, her arms clenched around her knees, awake and terrified. She startled frequently. Obviously, there were sounds that were terrifying her. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see and feel her terror. He could taste her desperation.

He floundered in desperation, too. He'd fought to be included on the rescue mission. He’d had to be physically restrained at one point. Jason and Jacob had adamantly refused to let a “thief” go into a war zone, and Paul Greenfield had agreed. Justin didn't remember much after hurling a metal chair across the table at his brothers. Jared, Nic, and Zane had manhandled him back to the theater, shoved him into a seat and shouted, “Do. Not. Fucking. Move.”

He stared at Danielle. His fucking heart was sitting in the corner of a dark cell, and he was being told to sit here and wait. The bitter vitriol in his gut rolled and grew with each passing beat of his heart.

The door behind him opened and he heard footsteps, but he didn't look up. He knew by now Jacob and his team were gearing up. They'd be leaving, without him. Justin would have to endure being an impotent spectator relegated to sitting in front of the monitor, watching the woman he loved suffer.

"There's been a complication."

Justin lifted guarded eyes to Jason and Jacob. He steeled himself. If the men he'd thrown a metal chair at were here telling him there was a problem... "What?" His gut sank to levels he didn't know existed.

"From the intel we’ve just received that compound is the Daesh headquarters. They've pumped money into the security system. We've run all possible scenarios. No matter how rapidly they deploy, when Jacob's team breaches that fortress, the alarms will sound. Danielle will be moved—or more likely—killed." Jason extended the familiar courier's pouch to him. "I need a miracle, Magus. Get inside that compound and deactivate the alarm system, undetected. When the system is deactivated, notify Jacob. Alpha team will breach the fortress and rescue Danielle."

Justin stood and reached for pouch, surprised to see his hand trembling. "My equipment?"

"I have it waiting on the aircraft. Wheels up in thirty minutes. Get going." Jason cuffed him on the back and motioned toward Jacob who'd already reached the theatre door. Justin jogged up the steps and turned one last time to put his eyes on the grainy image of Danielle curled in on herself, her head resting on her knees. Justin gripped the door and swung it open. Hang on, baby. I'm coming.

* * *

The roar of the C-17s engine's drowned out most of the conversation that Jacob was having with his team. He watched as Alpha team poured over the blueprints, the same way he had. The drawings and information were lacking, and the location sucked. Four rifle pits at the top of the building had almost three-hundred-and-sixty-degree coverage. Answers to questions about the lighting and a backup power source went begging. The wiring for the security system would run true to most schematics, but he didn't know if it was fiber optics, copper wired or a point to point microwave shot. He could defeat them all, but not knowing what he faced going in put him at a serious disadvantage, exponentially multiplying his chance of exposure. There was no thrill to this mission. No underlying sense of satisfaction. He faced death if discovered, and not only was his death assured, but Danielle's, Jacob’s and every member of Jacob's team. The irony of who trusted him with their lives—he, the man who worked so hard to keep his family at arm’s length—wasn’t lost on him.

He glanced at his brother. He knew each of Jacob's men, albeit in passing. He believed Chief ran the business end of the complex in South Dakota. The twins, Dixon and Drake, were the training gurus, and Doc Cassidy, well, he worked at the hospital on the ranch.

Chief walked over to him and sat down in the jump seat next to him. He handed him an earpiece and a small box. "The earpiece will be turned on only if we need to communicate with you.” He nodded towards the twins who were laughing at something Jacob had said. “Having those two in your head while you work is a learned skill. This box is your transmitter. When you've neutralized the alarms, you flip it open like this and activate it by pushing down on the button. Throw it away or keep it, it doesn't matter, we'll be coming in."

Jacob moved over and sat down on the other side of him. "From what we can see of the cement construction of the walls and floors, we believe she's being kept in the lower level. The satellite photos show a sandstone structure, so we are confident she's in a basement."

Justin nodded. He'd surmised the same thing.

"We've got eighteen hours until the ransom is due to the Daesh. Greenfield was able to convince them he needed the time to get the specs from the government quality control inspector. It was a good stall tactic, but we will be pushed to get there, get in and get her out before the time elapses. You'll need to keep up. Are you in decent physical condition?" Jacob glanced at him.

Was he as bulky as his brothers? No. But he’d had cardio for days, and he was strong enough to free climb the side of a mountain. "I won't slow you down."

Jacob nodded. "Try to get some sleep. We are doing everything we can. Rest so you can do what you need to do when we land." His brother nudged him with his elbow. "So…a fucking cat burglar. One that can chuck chairs like a Nolan Ryan fastball."

He rolled his head against the plane's vibrating bulkhead and returned his brother's amused expression with a glacial stare. Cat burglar. He hated that fucking term. "High priced, high tech, high risk, information extraction specialist."

Jacob laughed and slapped his leg as he stood up. "Right. Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say."

Thank God for the roar of the aircraft's engine. At least it drowned out Jacob's laughter. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He needed to rest so he could do what he needed to do. That's what Jacob had said, and for once he agreed with his little brother. When he closed his eyes the image of Danielle shot across his memory like a photograph. A snapshot of her fear. He held that image as he slowed his breathing into measured lengths. Hang on, baby. I'm coming.

* * *

"Dude, we are about to land."

Justin blinked his eyes open and glanced around the cabin of the aircraft. Jacob, Chief, and the Doc were strapped in across the cargo bay from where he sat. One of the twins, he didn't know which one was which, sat on either side of him.

"So, you're like a thief?" The one on the right asked.

He glared but didn't respond. He wasn't civil when he first woke up, and that shit wasn't helping.

"Seriously, you steal shit, right?"

He groaned and leaned forward, scrubbing his face. He glanced at Jacob. A big ole smile split the man's face. Yeah, Jacob knew exactly what the twins were doing.

"No, I don't steal shit. I'm an information extraction specialist."

"Huh, fancy name for a crook, ain't it, Dixon?"

"Yep. I can list ten names for a thief that aren't that fancy." The one on his left spoke.

"Only ten? I bet we can come up with more. A thief is a thief after all."

"Seriously?" He glared from one to the other. They were never getting reservations at his restaurants. The jerks.

"Oh yeah, let's see. There is mugger."

"Prowler."

"Housebreaker."

"Wait, isn't that like for an affair?" the one on the right asked.

"Nope, that is a homewrecker."

"Oh, yeah, true. What about swindler?"

"Yep and then there is looter, robber, and filcher."

He dropped his head to his hands. He knew they were trying to lighten the atmosphere, but seriously? They were obnoxious pricks…in a little brother type of way.

"Oh, you forgot pickpocket, heister, bandit."

"And cat burglar."

"No, we said that."

"No, we didn't."

"Damn it, Dixon, I know I said that."

"Bullshit," the one Justin assumed was Dixon responded. "We started with thief then we listed and, I might add this is in order because I don't forget shit two minutes after it happens: mugger, prowler, housebreaker, swindler, looter, robber, filcher, pickpocket, heister, and cat burglar."

"You forgot bandit," Drake interjected.

At the thud of the aircraft landing gear and the sudden jerk of a full reverse engine stopped their diatribe, or at least Justin assumed it did. Thankfully it was too loud in the cargo hold of the aircraft to hear if they kept going.

He unbuckled his harness as soon as the plane stopped shuddering. He crossed to the bag that contained his equipment and lifted it. Raising his head, he met Jacob's amused look. The bastard. In the future, he was going to ensure O'Malley's was out of 2009 Tor ‘Beckstoffer To Kalon - Clone 4’ Cabernet Sauvignon every time his brother showed his face.

The ramp opened into nothing but darkness. Several of the men around him, loaded down with packs, headed down the ramp. He adjusted his bag in his hand and followed. They crossed the tarmac with only the strobing lights on the aircraft breaking the perfect black of the night.

"No landing lights for the pilots?" He asked Chief.

"They were on. They are turned off immediately so we can unload without any satellite imagery. If unfriendlies have infrared, we'll be seen as a heat source, but they won't know what we are unloading."

The two black jeeps that had been strapped into the cargo bay roared to life. When they rolled down the back ramp, several packs and his bag went into the rear one. Jacob and the Doctor were in that vehicle, and thankfully, his brother motioned for him to climb in. The twins and Chief were in the other. Jacob got in, put on a pair of night vision goggles and started the engine. As Jacob put the vehicle into gear and pulled away, Justin looked back and caught a glint of moonlight off the other jeep that shadowed their movements.

Doc's arm rested on the front portion of an M4. He knew what the weapon was because Gabriel had forced him to qualify with several different types of guns. He glanced over at his brother armed with three handguns, that he could see, and a knife that would make Crocodile Dundee envious. All he had was his brain and his skill. It would be enough. It had to be. He settled into the seat and gazed out the window into the darkness. They had a long drive ahead of them.