Chapter 20
Abbott found an empty summer home two miles from Hutton’s cabin. The owner agreed to allow them use of the place as a safe house and command center. Dex, Mick, Noah, and Colt set up a triage area, in case there were any injuries. Every time Mason overheard them discuss various scenarios they may encounter, he visualized Jess beaten. Shot.
Or worse.
What if they were already too late, and Jess was dead? He hadn’t told her how he really felt. She was the first woman who had grabbed his heart and owned it—and she had no idea he had completely fallen head over heels in love with her. Why hadn’t he told her how he felt before this op started?
Because this whole thing petrified him. Ultimately, what he feared most was that she may not share his feelings. So, he had decided not to let her know how he felt, because he didn’t want to face rejection.
Fucking coward.
He glanced at the large kitchen island. The medic team had cleaned it off and lined the opposite counter with various medical instruments, towels, and other things. All he could envision was Jess’s body, blood seeping out of bullet holes, dripping into puddles on the expensive tiled floor. Her eyes vacant, looking straight at him, but not seeing him. The light gone. Never having the chance to tell her that she had changed his life forever. To thank her for allowing him to love her, even if it was for such a short time.
No. He couldn’t think that way. He shook his head of the visions, and just imagined her. In his bed. Alive. Calling his name as he brought her to a climax. In the kitchen, smile across her face—did she realize she smiled constantly while she cooked?
He had to see her that way. He couldn’t go into the mission worrying they were going to be too late. That caused anxiety. Anxiety forced men to forget the plan and make bad decisions. Bad decisions would be what killed Jess. Not the RRA.
He closed his eyes and ran through the plan over and over in his mind. Most every part of the training had become muscle memory. Entering a building. Where to go. When to shoot. It was the variables—the things that were exclusive to each op that had to be committed to memory.
Riley set up a forward staging area in the great room, and hooked up her laptop to the massive TV hanging above the fireplace. Smaller screens from other rooms in the house were filled with information, as well. They were connected to the TOC back in Newport, and Riley would be able to monitor everything Holt was able to see. This was not the optimal planning scenario. Usually they wanted weeks—days even—but they were forced to come up with a plan in a few hours. It was starting to get dark, and time was not on their side.
The team preferred to go in under the cover of darkness. During a raid of the RRA training compound in Colombia they had been forced to go in during daylight hours. The mission had been a success—they had rescued Mia Rowland, killed a top RRA leader, and blown up the compound—but it was by pure luck they had gotten out almost unscathed. Mia had injuries from being kicked in the ribs by steel-toed boots, and Ben Wells had been shot in the leg.
No deaths, though—and that was what really made it a success.
Mason stared at the map of the property. One road in. Two level cabin. Just over five thousand square feet plus a basement. Mason would bet good money that was where Jess and her mother were being held.
If they were still…
He closed his eyes, and banished the thought from his mind.
Enter through the woods at the back. Send probes to determine manpower, firepower, any obstacles they might encounter. Locate all points of entry into the house.
Each member had a job. A position. Mason was on the team that would head straight to the basement. Riley and Lance had tried to talk him out of doing it, most likely worried how he would react if they were too late.
He was firm, however, and convinced them it was better for him to be the first to find her. No matter what he found when he got there.
“Hanscom has two helo’s at our disposal,” Riley said. Mason opened his eyes. The couches and chairs in the room were filled with the other members of the team. All eyes were on Riley as she stood in front of the large TV screen. “The property we are on butts up against the Hutton property here—in the back corner. No fence, so no obstacle there.” She used a laser pointer to show where the property came to a point along the north end. “The land plat shows the only structure on the property is the house. There are several points of entry into the house at ground level. The covered drive has a door that leads into a vestibule. The back side of the house has a covered deck with French doors leading to the interior from each of the three bedrooms—here, here, and here—” she pointed to three doors along the southwest side. “Two sets of French doors flank the fireplace and lead into a great room. And a final set off a breakfast nook on the southeast end of the structure.”
Jake, the Captain in charge of planning and training, stepped up next to Riley and took the laser pointer she offered. “The back of both properties—this one and Hutton’s land—are dense forest. That should aid our ingress and provide ample cover. So far, we have not seen any activity in the woods, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any.”
“We’ll make our way through the woods,” Lance said. “Break up into teams—Lucas and Jake take the northwest side of the house; Gabe and Ben, you’ll be a the back; and Noah and Dex, check the northeast side. Scope the area and report back. The rest of us will hang back in the woods until we get a signal to come forward.”
“While this is a rescue mission, it’s also a kill/capture. None of these guys can be free this time tomorrow. Whether that means they are still breathing or not will be determinative on how things go down. But, this much is clear, gentlemen, no one gets away. Once Jess and her mother are recovered, and the tangos secured, we’ll go through the house and intel gather.”
“Any questions?” Riley asked.
Heads shook back and forth.
Lance grabbed his M-4 from the table beside him. “Let’s move out.”