The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (27 page)

They reached a corner and Chris slowed, swinging the automatic to her hip. She tipped her head to look around the edge of the wall and scanned the open space. More bulbs led off in a short line before hitting another T. Chris inhaled, trying to determine if the air freshened from the ne
w corridor. The stench of mold, wet stone, and disuse remained, but the air shifted across her cheek toward her back.

The corridor stood empty and no sound beyond their breathing came to her ears. She listened hard, trying to catch any indication of others near them, but the
hallway stayed quiet. Chris scanned the corners of the ceiling, but so far she hadn’t seen any cameras.
Lucky break.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“How do you know this is the right way?” MaryAnn’s whisper bounced off the walls.

“I remember and the air smells better.”

“That’s it? You remember and it smells better?” She scowled. “That’s stupid, Chris. You can’t smell anything.”

Chris gritted her teeth. “You’re right. And
it’s a good thing. If we smelled unwashed men and gun oil, it would be bad. So let’s get going.”

She slipped around the corner
without another word and ignored the sounds of the others moving behind her, particularly MaryAnn’s panting as she picked her way over the wet concrete.
I thought this woman was caught at a gym. Shouldn’t she be in shape?

She pushed them a little faster this time, ducking through the light spots just in case someone crossed
at the next T and glanced down their corridor.
So far so good
. No one had been patrolling the building since the last two had taken their deadly stroll.

Again, Chris paused when they reached the new corridor and sniffed the air. Definitely fresher
air to the left and muffled sounds came from the way ahead. Praying their luck would hold for escape without notice, Chris peeked around the corner.

Light blazed a few yards ahead from an office window beside a door. The door stood cracked open and voices in low conversation hummed from behind it.
Chris bit her lip. The only way out passed right by the window and door.

She glanced over her shoulder at the women. If they
stayed quiet and kept low, they could slip past and be outside before the men in the office discovered them.

“What’s going on, Chris?”
Lindsey’s whisper cut through the mumbles.

Chris eased back to the women. “We’re almost out, but we gotta go past the dam office and the door is cracked with someone inside.”

MaryAnn’s expression folded into despair and Lindsey’s mouth tightened. “So what do we do?”

“We’
re going out quiet. Stay below the window and head straight for the door to the outside. Once you’re outside, run for any cover you can find. Shrubs, trees, rocks, anything. You don’t want to be caught in the open. We’ll regroup when we’re in the trees.” She met two sets of eyes, one frightened and one determined. “Ready?”

“I can’t do this.” MaryAnn shrank back.

“Yes, you can, and you will. This isn’t time to argue or waste time. Didn’t you go to a gym each week? You’ll be fine.” Chris swallowed the urge to verbally smack the woman.

MaryAnn’s face crumpled. “I can’t. I only went to the gym to meet someone. I never worked out.”

Anger and frustration clashed in Chris’s mind. She damn near grabbed MaryAnn and threw her against the wall.
The stupid whiney bitch cheated on Bam-Bam?
The idea made Chris want to puke.
What the fuck are we doing this for, then?

“I’ll lay it out real simple. You stay here, you’
ll be raped and killed. I don’t leave anyone behind and I’m not staying. So get your ass moving because I’m not going to carry you. Are we clear?”

MaryAnn’s eyes widened
as she nodded and Chris wondered what she’d seen to make her agree.
Maybe it’s the ‘I’m-gonna-kill-you-for-this’ feeling I got going.
She stuffed the outrage on Killian’s behalf down deep and channeled her energy into sizing up the corridor ahead.

Nothing had changed. Time to go.

“Let’s move.”

Chris
stepped out into the corridor and listened for any changes coming from the dam office. The low rumble of the water going through the sluices underlay the murmur of voices and her heartbeat. She kept an eye on the door to the office, motioning to the others to get low.

S
he paused as the hair rose on the back of her neck.

The shadows from within the room shifted and the conversation changed as someone moved to the door. A large callused hand
pulled it wider and broad shoulders attached to a tall frame and thick legs emerged. The man hadn’t spotted them yet, but it wouldn’t be long, bathed as they were beneath a naked bulb.

He slowly turned his head and black eyes framed by bushy brows and thick black beard locked on her face.

Aw, fuck.

****

It didn’t take long to get the flight rerouted and a new energy ran through Beta Squad like lighting. Expressions turned cold, calculating, and hard as they landed on the tarmac at Osborn Air Force Base. Retro swore his heart would beat its way out of his chest with the new hope surging through him.

Don’t get excited. We haven’t seen the women yet.

But they’d definitely caught a break. Osborn AFB sat only twelve miles from the town of Lilliwaup. The abandoned dam spanning the Lilliwaup River sat six klicks upstream from there.

The s
quad grabbed their gear and headed for the base buildings. Retro’s mind already bubbled with ideas how to get in and get out. First, get the lay of the land then make plans. He glanced over at Magic and recognized the same light growing in his heart. Hope.

Inside,
Commander Whittleton gave them the Situation Report.

“We got Predators on approach to the dam taking recon. According to surveillance footage at the
Hood Canal Airport, a couple of guys loaded some suspicious cargo into a van seventy-two hours ago.”

“
Lieutenant Commander, drones are airborne.”

“Thank you,
Airman.” Whittleton unrolled a map onto the table and stabbed his finger against the contour lines. “This is the dam. No one has been there for years according to county records, but the structures are still sound. When we have eyes, we’ll know better what we’re dealing with before going in.”

“Do we know where the targets are being held?” Retro
’s soured at calling the women something so impersonal, but keeping emotion out of it would help them all.

“Not as yet. The drones have infrared and should get heat signatures.”

“Three minutes to ETA, Commander.”

Whittleton nodded as
Magic scanned the map. “This looks like pretty hilly country, sir. How are we going in?”

“Let’s see what
the drones show us then we’ll plan our route.”

Magic didn’t say anything, but his jaw clenched. Three minutes ticked by like an eternity when they’d come so close.

“I got eyes, Lt. Commander.”

“Thank you,
Airman. Show me.”

Every man glanced up at the large video screens ringing the room. Two views showed the dam from different angles, one in infrared.
The dam crossed the river in a subtle crescent shape, the floodgates open on either side to allow the water to flow through. A steep rock wall on the south side of the river made approach dangerous, while the clearing on the north side offered an unobstructed view of the road and entry. Thick forest with undergrowth lined the road-side of the river.

The other drone provided a different view. Red and orange figures moved around within the structures beside the dam. Five glows appeared in a little room closest to the river while two sat in what must have been the control room. Three other pairings walked along the battlements of the concrete rim and through the woods on the near side.

“What’s this room, here?” Bam-Bam pointed at the room with five figures.

“Storage according to the old plans.”

No one said anything for a few moments and Retro’s stomach sank as he watched the figures move. The emphatic motions of the red blurs gave some indication of what they were doing and his hands tightened into fists to keep from hitting something.

“That’s where they’re holding the targets.”

Rage simmered in the air of the control room
as the silence thickened.
Get it together, man. Rape was always a possibility.
He’d known, but he hadn’t expected to watch the brutal evidence of it.

“We have to get in there, sir.”

“I know, Bam-Bam.” Whittleton’s expression had grown implacable and Jim suspected his anger rivaled theirs. “The best approach is upriver from the dam. You’ll helo in to this old logging camp at the top of the reservoir and insert there.” He pointed to a flat clearing two klicks up stream. “There’s still enough current to carry you down to the dam. Stanton, you’ll set up here with Bronco.” Whittleton pointed to a small rise along the river overlooking the dam on the south side. “Depending on visibility, I want you to find a nest and take out tangos on the span and in the trees.”

Bronco g
runted and Retro suspected he’d rather have been closer, but he said nothing else.

“Retro, Magic, you will be point for the targets
. Get in, get out, no tracks.”
Fuck yeah
. He’d be there with Magic to grab the women and make any assholes they met pay.

“Bam-Bam and Deli will
run interference
to take out the rest. Helo will pick us up at the front door. If the LZ is compromised, fall back to the campground here, one klick north.”

“Tertiary route,
Commander?” Stanton asked.

Whittleton slid his finger along the river. “
Upstream two klicks, an old pumphouse with enough space. I’m not expecting to need any of them. I want these dicks dead, but you know how Murphy likes to fuck with us.”

“When do we evac?” Magic turned his attention to the overhead views from the predator drones.

“Five minutes. I’ll be here coordinating the drones. Gear up, gentlemen.”

The room cleared out in a flurry of boots, everyone’s expressions tight. Retro’s heart sped up as the adrenaline kicked in. They had a plan and a target. God help the motherfuckers they’d encounter. Retro swung into the helo after Magic and strapped in, going over his kit in his head. Everything was cocked, locked, and loaded, and
nothing would stand in their way of rescuing their women.

Only
concern over the ladies sustaining injuries tarnished the general battle excitement.

Yeah, if you hurt any of them, you sick fucks, we’ll cut your chests open and feast on your blood.

Retro gritted his teeth and used the rage to fuel his energy, settling down into cold, calculating calm. He relished the opportunity to offer a “measured response” to the terrorists who’d taken their women.
Mess with the best, die with the rest
.

“Drop two minutes out.”

Retro rechecked his equipment, rolled his head his shoulders, and settled into his hunting mode.
I’m coming for you motherfuckers.
He glanced at Magic and the blond SEAL gave him a thumbs-up as the buzzer sounded. The doors flew open and they hurled themselves out into the rainy afternoon murk.

Retro hit the water and concentrated on moving away from the chop generated by the helo.
The sounds of two other bodies submerging behind him helped him focus. They had two klicks to cover in as little time as possible while Rimshot and Bronco settled on the high ground.

Surfacing in silence, he scanned the faces of his team and
motioned for them to precede him. Retro brought up the rear, submerging with the others to make the swim down the reservoir. Murky water made visibility tricky, but the current reduced the effort needed to cover ground.

Two hundred yards from the concrete span of the dam, he resurfaced and settled with the team under cover of the shoreline foliage. The others kept watch while Retro pressed the radio against his larynx.

“Bowstring, this is Arrow. All boots in the water. Waiting for confirmation of high ground. Over.”

The radio crackled from the helo. “Copy that
, Arrow. High ground dropped. Proceed to target when confirmed. Over.”

“Copy that.” Retro gave the squad a tight fist for ‘wait’.
“Rimshot, you copy?”

A few seconds passed as the river flowed by and the wind shook the trees overhead. Retro scanned the dam ag
ain, noting a few guards patrolling the concrete span.
Come on, Rimshot.

“Copy.” The response was barely more than a hiss, but satisfaction loosened Retro’s gut.

“Have you reached position?”

“Two minute ETA.”

“Roger that.” Retro signaled to the team to move in. “Closing on target.”