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It’s almost go-time.
I close the file and drop it to the floor. There’s nothing in there that will help me anyway.
I look out through the windshield, and my stomach knots as we approach our target. Our camouflaged vehicle should be visible within the next minute.
“Grizz, Tex, Waldo, I want you around the back and sides of the building. Secure all possible exits. Team one, stay in the tree line out front. Secure the vehicles on site—nothing gets out. Eagle, stay in the woods; stop anything that makes a run for it on my mark. No casualties.” Shifting my attention inside the car, I address my team in the front seat but keep my headset active so everyone is on the same page. “Hunter, hang back. We’re going in the front door. You’re on our six. We need whoever’s in that house alive. We aren’t a threat until we need to be. If this is only their tech team, there may be no resistance.” I pause to listen as everyone confirms my orders, then I return Logan. He nods his approval as he works to adjust his earpiece.
I’ve known Logan for almost ten years. I met him the morning I lost Jessa. We started out rocky, with him tranquilizing me to get me back to base. Our first days were tense as I went through eval. I was a broken man for a while after the op, and my evaluation turned into mandatory psych sessions.
Being paired with Logan on my first assignment after my all clear was hard to take. But after we talked and got to know each other better, we found common ground. I realized I had been projecting my anger onto him when he was just following orders. He did the right thing.
After that mess, it seemed we were always matched together on projects. As we worked together, Logan helped me to understand my pain, and he helped me focus myself better than those shrinks ever did. It turns out we had a lot more in common than I thought.
Logan knows almost everything about me. The only thing he doesn’t know is how wonderful Jessa really was. My descriptions never seemed to do her justice. I think he would have liked her.
A couple of years after we met, we retired from active duty to start our own security and ops company: Cypher Black Ops Security. The goal was simple: we contracted out work, chose the jobs and companies we wanted to work with, and set our own terms. Our company has grown from one small building into many locations around the country, including a few operational bases for tactical training and special assignments.
We provide security and other services to a large number of Fortune 500 companies as well as our own government for far better pay. Putting Maxwell and his team out of business would end a number of our outstanding contracts, and the bonuses alone would set us all up for life, financially.
Professionally, we would be able to secure more business with the news that it was our company who finally put an end to Maxwell Sparr’s syndicate.
“Jekyll, you’re with me on this. Front door. We go in cool.” Logan nods his head once more at his code name.
As the SUV rounds the last corner, leaving the cover of the trees behind, the farmhouse comes into view.
A large two-story house sits in the center of a cleared lot, surrounded by tree line on all four sides. As I look across the yard, I realize our three team members would have had a tough time crossing the large, wide-open space unnoticed.
Intel tells us this property has been owned by an untraceable shell corporation for a long time, so chances are it was set up as a safe house and left vacant until needed. Which is hopefully now.
It’s late morning, and the sun is shining brightly against a clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. I would have preferred to approach under the cover of darkness, but there’s a good chance they won’t be here much longer. Judging by the supplies loaded into the vehicle our team found out front, I’m pretty sure I’m right. They were preparing to run.
My heart skips a beat over the fact that we are most likely, and finally, ahead of them this time.
Grey pulls the SUV into the driveway and blocks the last road leading off the property. He keeps the car running. Logan and I open our back-seat doors at the same time and step out as Hunter exits the passenger side.
Checking the safety on my gun one last time, I secure it in its strap and move toward the front of the vehicle, meeting Logan and taking in the situation on the property.
Our team is in place, and everything is still. Nothing is moving except for the leaves on the trees, rustling in the breeze.
Logan and I walk together toward the stairs, with Hunter trailing ten feet behind us.
As we step up to the house, a shuffle around the side catches my attention, and Link’s voice breaks through my earpiece. “Man down. West side. No visual on the attacker.”
Looking up to the drone hovering one hundred feet away, I exhale an exasperated sigh. “Eagle, you there? Who’s on the west exit?” I ask our shooter, who’s still positioned in the woods.
His response is instant. “Waldo.”
I roll my eyes. Of course it’s Waldo. “Grizz, Tex, spread out. Find Waldo and make sure he’s okay, then cover the back and sides. And if he’s down, you know the rules. Grab a photo. I need something for the staff newsletter this month.”
“Copy that.” There’s a huff in Grizz’s voice. As long as Waldo is okay, there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun while we’re out here.
Looking at Logan and Hunter, I nod my head to continue, hesitantly, to the front door.
Someone definitely knows we’re here.
Logan stands as close to the door as possible so whoever answers doesn’t get a good look at our men out front. He rings the doorbell, and we wait in silence for half a minute before he rings it again.
Shaking his head in frustration, he takes a deep breath. I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s about to yell loud enough for those inside to hear.
