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Chapter Twenty – Tank
Two sharp raps on my door alert me that we will be leaving in ten minutes. I pick up the photo of Jess and slip it into my shirt pocket and allow myself a small smile, remembering the debate Jess and I had over the pockets of my cammies.
Jess can’t understand why they’d sew so many pockets into a garment if no one was going to use them and teases me mercilessly when I slip things into my boots to carry. I explained to her that nothing is more important to a marine than the way he presents himself and stuffing pockets like the pouches in a purse is not compatible with the neat form we like to present. She rolled her eyes and told me there are way more important things in life than looking like a damn beefeater at the Queen’s palace, and I chased her around the coffee table in the living room and tickled her until she’d been so close to peeing herself that she’d apologized for comparing me to one of those pompous dicks.
This time, though, instead of slipping the photo into my boot, I place it in the pocket of my black civilian shirt underneath my bulletproof vest. I want her real close to me tonight. I’ve been feeling weird all day. I can’t get Jess out of my mind. The restlessness I can usually keep under wraps before an op is consuming, and nothing I did stopped the urge to pace.
I move the curtain aside, watching the blanket of stars stretch across the sky, and my stomach tightens. Millions and millions of klicks of freedom, and some people were at the mercy of evil. Garrett had sent word to us that things weren’t going well. Saeed Khan had come aboard to check on his merchandise only to find out Carys wasn’t a virgin as promised. Apparently, they’d killed the guy who reported that Carys was a virgin to begin with, and Garett was sure they wouldn’t have much use for her anymore.
I don’t know why, but I had a feeling that Garrett had made this mission personal. Never a good idea, and his head wasn’t entirely in the game.
I take one more look at the sky and let the drapes fall. I turn around, the full-length mirror bolted to the closet door reflecting just how antsy I am. I don’t normally go on rescue missions. Usually, the people I was saving were unseen and behind the scenes, the people of a town or country. This time, I knew what Carys looked like. I saw photos of her and had a dossier full of her likes and dislikes, down to her favorite color. It was mint, a lighter shade of green—Jess’s favorite. Everything felt too close to home. I couldn’t detach like I used to.
I rub my hands on my black pants. It was strange to go on a mission without my trusted cammies, but it made sense to wear black. I strap up the bulletproof vest over my long-sleeved top and pull my beanie down lower, switch off the light, and leave my room. I hope by the time I come back, our mission will be accomplished, and Carys will be on her way back to her family.
***
The shipping container is humid and stuffy despite the frigid air outside. We all sit on the floor, lost in our own thoughts. I kept running our next steps over and over in my mind, contemplating any possible diversion in the plan, coming up with Plan Bs, Cs, and Ds. This op had to be a success, no two ways about it.
Last night’s conversation with Emerly, Carys’s younger sister, had nailed me in the gut. She found my number on her father’s phone and called me, begging me to save her sister. I didn’t say much. What could I say? I told her we’d try our best. But our best wouldn’t be good enough unless her sister was home safe. I stretch my arms out in front of me and pop my knuckles.
“You’ll get arthritis, you know.” Harry doesn’t look up from his phone, his face and receding hairline glowing pale blue from the light of his screen.
“So they tell me.”
“Just think about all the things you’d miss out on doing when your hands are crippled.” Oliver, a scrawny lieutenant with incredible sharpshooter skills, pipes up.
“Yeah, like you could never choke the chicken again.” I shoot the rookie a glare and get back to thinking about tonight. All my focus needs to be on Carys and what has to be done to save her, not my team goofing around like college students. I look at my watch. It’s go time. “All right, ladies, let’s do this.” As soon as I say the words, Jess’s face comes to mind. She’d have my balls for that.
We slip out of the side entrance of the container, stealthily moving along the wall, making our way over to Galata bridge. The superyacht is about eight boats along the harbor. Boarding the yacht is no problem at all, and we do so without being seen. I give the signal, and as per the earlier briefing, the team splits into three. Two split to the right and left, and the rest of us climb the twelve or so steps to the second deck, where Garrett has told us they are keeping Carys. My eyes are on the prize, and nothing else will distract me. As I peek my head out over the top of the stairs, a red glow catches my eye, and I raise my fist for the guys to stop. A guy is standing at the rail smoking. The sweet smell of the tobacco wafts over to us.
What feels like hours later, but can only be minutes, he flicks his cigarette butt into the ocean, the red tip glowing like a dying flare’s ember. He takes in the view for a few more moments and then starts pacing the deck. I wait for him to turn his back to me, then make my move. I creep along the wall, looking around, making sure no one is watching. Without him realizing, I make my way behind him and put him in a chokehold, dragging him into the shadows where there is nothing to kick at and draw attention to us. I put him in a sleeper hold and wait till his body goes limp before lowering him to the floor. James, the rookie, comes over and helps me bind and gag him. Then we carry him around the corner and hide him under the stairs.
“While you were incapacitating the guard, Harry had a quick look around. He saw the girl. She’s in the first room on the right.”
“Jesus, why does he need to be a fucking hero? I told everyone what they needed to do.”
Harry comes up behind him. “At least I found her.”
“Just fucking do as you’re told. James, stay with the guard under the stairs, and Harry, I need you to be on watch.”
Harry glares at me, but I don’t give a fuck. I know what I’m doing.
I slip around the corner and into Carys’s room and shut the door behind me.
I see her the minute I walk into the room. She looks pale and about six seconds from bursting into tears as she backs against the wall, trying her best to shield her body covered by a thin cream baby doll lingerie set.
I avert my eyes. “Carys?”
I know it’s fucking Carys. She looks exactly like the girl in the pics, except her hair is a shade or two lighter than it is in the pics, and her bright red mane is disheveled, highlighting her wide eyes.
“Wh-who are you?”
I take two steps to the bed and toss the throw at her to cover her body.
“My name is Tank. I’m here with a special team to take you home.” She still looks at me with suspicion. “Your sister Emerly tells me Snickerdoodle, your wiener dog, is missing you and has been sleeping in her bed.”
Jesus, it nearly tore my heart to shreds when I heard that.
