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“I was interested in the military and aspects of it that related to 9/11. Like those kids. I knew what it was like to lose a parent. For seven years after 9/11, I was obsessed with it and my mom thought it was too much for a child as young as myself. She started to restrict my access and often told me that sweet young girls don’t want that kind of gritty life. But the more I felt deprived of the knowledge, the more I hungered to find out more about my dad, 9/11, the military, and the FBI. I guess I wanted to know it all, to understand what motivated my dad to serve, the mistakes and shortcomings of the agency that was supposed to keep us safe, and the terrorists who hated us so much they slammed planes into the Trade Center.”
Blitz slipped his hand into her hair, again cradling her head against his shoulder. He nestled his cheek against her hair. “Sometimes it takes a lot of information to make us understand, give us answers to our questions, and help us to find some peace. But often all that information just leads to more questions.”
“It was also a little terrifying, because my mom was there that day in New York.”
Bree turned her head, pressing her face into the curve of his neck, and Blitz’s hold tightened as he murmured, “I can imagine.”
“She was shaken when she got home, and I was so thankful to have her back. It was heartbreaking to see all the kids who had lost their parents. I guess, because I only had my mom, it caused a lot of anxiety.”
“I know you well enough now to realize you weren’t going to back down from your exploration or investigation.”
He’d pegged her there, and Bree gave him a wry look. “I approached my paternal grandparents when I was fourteen. Just called them up and asked to meet them.”
Blitz laughed softly at her shrewd expression. “No holds barred.”
She nudged him. “Nope. My mom hadn’t been very vigilant in making sure I had a relationship with them. We moved around a lot for her job, and she took every opportunity to relocate when there was a juicy position that would advance her career. They lived in Florida where my dad and mom were from, and I insisted that I wanted to spend the summer with them. My mom didn’t understand it, but then she was always scattered and not very emotionally attached to many people. She constantly needed the stimulation of work to keep her occupied. Anyway, I went to my grandparents, and they were wonderful. They showed me so many pictures of him, including the military ones. He was such a cute kid and grew into a very handsome man. My grandmother had his medals and his uniforms. She’d kept everything for me when I grew up. I was so thankful. She also gave me access to my dad’s stuff, and I found Sherlock Holmes. He was an avid fan and had all the books. I got hooked on the investigations, the clues, and the solving of the cases using his intellect. It filled something in me to have a connection with my father. It was what I needed, and it formed the basis of my future.”
“Your grandmother was a smart woman. Bless her.” His eyes mesmerized her, and his touch was infinitely gentle as he dragged his hand through her hair and caught her by the back of the head, leaning down. His lips were warm as he brushed a corner of her mouth with a whisper of a kiss, then roughly pressed her against him, his breathing uneven.
“As much as I would love to lay here with you, we need to get moving. PT?”
“Yes, please. Running?”
He made a face. “Cardio isn’t my favorite, but let’s see if I can keep up with you.”
She laughed and unabashedly watched him get out of bed. Had to be one of her best assignments ever. What a view, especially his honed-to-perfection butt.
9
The morningafter the G5 Conference party, the tactical staging area was full of Buck’s team preparing for the op. Blitz had shown up this morning with the same clothes that he’d worn to the embassy. He noted Blitz had left with Agent West.
Hmmm. Blitz had wised up and made a move on the lovely Agent West. He wasn’t as dumb as a mule. But Buck couldn’t help regretting that the lovely Bree was now off limits.
Buck slipped his tactical knife into its sheath on his vest. They had just gotten word that Boko Haram had kidnapped two US aid workers from a village in the Diffa Region where three hundred thousand Nigerians had been displaced by the armed conflict between the Nigerian government and Boko Haram. They were currently making a run for the Nigerian border. It was their intent to make a statement as the two women were nuns, and Boko Haram was waging a war against Christians and the West. Because the Niger military had been on top of the incident, it was still possible to stop the convoy from slipping over the border where there was no doubt the women would be tortured and killed, most likely on a world stage.
Twenty-six-year-old Caitlin Massy and forty-five-year-old Serena Lachey’s lives were now in their hands. Hands that didn’t falter, hands that had the skill and the capability to rescue them from their terrible fate—Buck and his teammates with an assist from the Nigerien military.
They could run.
They weren’t going to make it.
All tacked up, he grabbed his M4 and headed for the door. Speak of the devil: Bree was there waiting outside to see Blitz off. Since this op wasn’t related to the Ogdens’ investigation or the apprehension of Olenska and Achebe, she wasn’t part of the team.
He nodded to her, and she nodded back. He could tell by her expression that she wanted to go, but that wasn’t a surprise to him. She was a go-getter, more a direct-action participant if ever he saw one. Definite SEAL babe material. Warriors always wanted to be in the fight.
Thewhop-whopof the chopper, still a few minutes out, sounded in the distance.
“Joker, pull Blitz and Gator from the op and send them and Agent West to the briefing room. They’re needed,” Hollywood said. “I have two shooters from Bravo filling in for you. Baltimore and Shotgun are enroute and will rendezvous with you at the border.”
“Copy that,” Joker replied. “You heard him.” He nodded to Gator and Blitz. Blitz leaned over and told Agent West, and the three of them headed out.
The chopper landed and they headed for it. The op was relatively simple. There were two Boko Haram trucks headed for the border and they were going to pull a Captain Phillips. Take out the four Boko Haram members in the trucks simultaneously.
They boarded and settled inside. The plan was to overtake and pass the convoy, embed in the hillside, and complete the op. Buck was aware that terrorist activity was getting more intense in the region, and in fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if the political situation in Niger changed dramatically. In Buck’s opinion, the current president was under fire for pursuing many unpopular reforms and came from a minority group in Niger. Add to all that the fact that Niger had a history of political upheaval, and it seemed inevitable all the pressures of the region would impact the country. Isabelle had her work cut out for her.
One thing Buck was sure of—they weren’t leaving here without justice for their ambassador and his family.
The engines roared, the sound deafening as they sped adjacent to the route the Boko Haram convoy was progressing. In moments, they would be at the ambush point just miles from the border.
