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It was so much more than that. An invitation, an apology, and an olive branch.
Hope.
He glanced away, but couldn’t escape another set of peepers boring into him. Parker’s. They all wore headsets, but no one was talking, and he was grateful for the background drone of the ’copter. White noise. It didn’t totally suppress the chaos in his brain, but flying was better than talking right now.
Compartmentalize.I’m nothing more than an operative going after a bad guy.He had no country, no family, no responsibility outside of that.
But neither woman’s observation left his face, and it was harder to ignore Parker than Lori. He didn’t need to look at her to know what she was forcibly trying to communicate with him. He was a dog and she held the leash. If he defied her orders, she would jerk that leash and shut him down.
The thought made him twitchy, and he hated to do it, but he shoved her into her compartment and slammed the door. She knew his vulnerabilities, more so after what they’d just been through, but he couldn’t afford to let that new level of intimacy affect him. He was going after a traitor, a kidnapper, an abuser. He would not allow the fact the man might be a blood relation to affect him in any way.
At least that’s what he told himself.
His gut nudged him, his brain circling something that he couldn’t put his finger on. He looked at Lori. “Lydia told you about Ghost Fox?”
“Yes, a few days ago,” she said. “Why?”
Two pieces of the puzzle slid together but didn’t quite connect. “She’s been with the group since its inception four years ago. Why did she wait to tell you?”
Everyone was listening. “We haven’t spoken in several years. She reached out a week ago and told me she had what we needed to put an end to Maddox and his blackmail, and that we should meet while she was in the States. I asked why she was here and she told me about her work with Ghost Fox. I think she misses MI6.”
“How did you find out about her abduction?” Parker asked.
“During the car chase, before RING got her, she sent me a text and said she was about to be kidnapped and needed my help.”
Moe looked at Parker. She stared back. It was as if they were on the same wavelength. “Why would she call you rather than Emit or the CIA?”
Lori’s hesitation was brief, her attention going to the window next to her. “Because she knew Bryant was behind it. Her text mentioned Operation Traitor. That’s what we called our plan to take him down. She’d already told me that she’d put the evidence on the watch but she said not to worry about her. That the CIA would rescue her and for me to go to the airfield as planned. Either she or someone else I could trust would be there with the watch. That I should hide it until she made contact again.”
“Two minutes, folks,” Colton informed them. He’d picked a field fifty yards from the main building to set down in. They were coming in noisy and hot since there was no way to hide their approach.
Romalov was three miles out. Emit had already shown them a satellite image of a Ford Bronco on the only access road heading in. It was now there, and Moe felt adrenaline pumping through his veins. He did not doubt that it was his father behind the wheel of that vehicle, and he had no idea how he was supposed to feel about meeting the man for the first time under the circumstances. So he did what he always did—he shut down. He was a soldier. He would do his job.
And if his fist connected with the old man’s chin, well, he’d accept whatever punishment Parker and Beatrice doled out. The guy would be lucky if that was the worst that happened.
The others checked their weapons as the helicopter began its descent. Parker rattled off instructions. She and Lori would stay behind, Parker with her computer tablet in hand reviewing video feed from each man’s tactical vest. Those were also seen by Emit, Beatrice, and Rory at the ops center.
She’d paired Colton with Moe, Cal with Trace. Jeb would take up a position on top of the hangar with a rifle and scope. The two-man teams would cover the front and rear exits while Jeb kept eyes on the landscape and Bronco. The vehicle was parked alongside the building, suggesting its driver was inside. As the helo set down, they watched for Maddox to flee, but no one emerged.
The main hangar’s doors were open, the ghosts of planes in the stalls. Weeds had grown up through the cracks in the formerly well-maintained runways. The once white and orderly-looking buildings scattered between them were now stained and dirty, some of their windows broken.
A plume of thick dust enveloped them as the skids touched down. Moe slipped goggles over his eyes, flung open the door on his side, and jumped out. He didn’t glance in Parker’s direction, the burn of her betrayal making his lungs tight. How could she deny him this? To confront his father? At least he knew the truth—not about his parents, but about her belief, or lack of, in him.
Truth was, he deserved it.
The helo blades slowed, the others taking up their positions. He sidled up to the truck, noting the keys were still in the ignition, the hood warm. Colton joined him and they pressed their backs to the exterior wall, working their way to the entrance. When the others were in position, Parker said in their ears, “Go.”
Apprehending Maddox was their goal. Romalov was closing in fast. The front door was open as if Maddox was expecting someone, but as Beatrice had said, they hadn’t had time to thoroughly investigate him. Running on the assumption he would be armed and not happy to see them, rather than the RING leader, caution was needed.
He and Colton took up positions on each side of the entrance. No sound came from within. Cal murmured into his comm, “We’re inside the rear door. No sign of target.”
Moe nodded at Colton and the man swung into the open threshold, back out. Shook his head. No one called out, nor did the breach illicit gunfire. That was good. They exchanged silent communication via hand gestures and Moe took the lead.
Unlike its commercial counterparts, this building had few windows. Those that allowed light to filter in offered an eerie glow amongst the shadows. Dust motes hung in the air, and an assortment of abandoned desks, chairs, and partitioned walls, some fallen, were the only things visible.
He moved on silent feet, weapon raised as he scanned the front and sides, Colton watching his back and doing the same. Time slowed, his focus sharpened.Where is the bastard?
In his peripheral vision, he caught movement. Jerking the gun in that direction, the adrenaline in his body nearly had him pull the trigger before he even found the source.
