Operation Zulu Redemption--Complete Season 1 (10 page)

“Téya,” Trace said, a stiff warning in his voice. “You can’t leave.”

“Watch me,” she snapped as she threw open the door to the room she had to herself. On the lower bunk, she stuffed on a boot.

Trace stood in the doorway. “I can’t let you leave.”

She stomped her booted foot down. “Trace, my grandmother is missing. David—that’s who was shot, right? What if they realize he’s not dead and go after him again?”

“We’re under orders. It’s too dangerous to be out there.” Trace folded his arms over his chest, a trail of tattoos peeking out along his forearms. “Listen, everyone they tried to kill was a precise hit. These guys don’t miss.”

“They missed Annie.” She slid on her other boot.

“That’s because she had help.”

She yanked the laces tied. “Exactly.” She stamped to her feet. “That’s why I’m going back there. They need me.”

“Think about it—David didn’t take a kill shot because they wanted to draw you out, so they could kill you.”

“I would rather take the bullet any day of the year than have someone I love and care about take one.” The cadence in her chest felt like an entire platoon on a march. “You can’t possibly think it’s right to keep me here when they need me.”

“They need you
alive
. That’s what they’d want.”

“If they’re dead, they can’t
want
anything.”

Trace took a step forward. “Téya, think it through. Put aside the emotion and think. I’ve already called in security detail for David. He won’t know they’re there, but they will be.”

“And my grandmother? What are you doing to find her, Colonel?”

He held her gaze but said nothing.

“She’s
eighty-two
. Do you really think she has a chance with goons like that?”

Now, his gaze said everything.

Téya drew up short. “You think she’s already dead.” She shoved her hair from her face and turned away. Paced the room. “I can’t… I need…” Covering her mouth, she worked to sort her thoughts. Figure out what she had to do. What if Trace was right? What if her grandmother was dead? A deep, strong ache started in her breast. She closed her eyes. “Do you understand what she did for me?” Téya shifted and gave him a sidelong glance. “She
lied
to the elders so I could live with her. She knew I was in trouble and needed help, a safe place. Do you know what the bishop can do to her?”

Trace Weston had been one impenetrable rock since the first day he walked onto the training field after Selection. His sandy-blond hair in an almost buzz cut, his tanned skin, and his green eyes softened the chiseled-from-stone personality that embodied the solider she admired and who made her want to be better and stronger.

And here she was, ready to defy him. She wanted David back. She wanted
Grossmammi
and the farm, the simple, nonviolent life of the Amish back. She wanted peace. “I don’t want this,” she managed, her throat constricting. “I was glad for the safety of my grandmother’s community.”

Trace studied her for several long seconds. “But you never felt you deserved it.”

Téya swallowed. How did he know that?

“You protect them by staying away.”

“How can you say that? He’s been shot! She’s missing. She can’t even get around without”—Téya gasped and took a step back, suddenly remembering—“her cane!”

Trace frowned.

“I can find her.”

He frowned. “With her cane?”

“She was having memory problems and got lost a few times, so I put a tracking chip in her cane.”

Trace

Bleak Pond, Pennsylvania

4 May – 1000 Hours

Driving through the quiet, quaint town, Trace saw farmers drilling oat or grain seeds with horse-drawn planters. While he could appreciate the simplicity of their lifestyle, he didn’t envy them. He didn’t want to be out day after day doing chores and the same ol’ thing. He liked the adrenaline rush and the adventure of new missions.

Then again, unlike him, these farmers and their families were relatively safe.

Except David Augsburger.

Trace couldn’t pretend a small amount of curiosity about the man. He’d gotten under Téya’s skin, and that was no small feat. She was a driven, hard-hitting woman.

“Sure can’t imagine living in a place like this,” said Martin Hill, the tech Trace borrowed from INSCOM to get a facial recognition workup of the man who’d hit David.

Off East Frederick, Trace turned into the parking garage of Lancaster General Hospital. “Let’s just get what we need and get out.” The longer they were here, the bigger the target on their heads.

They made their way to the main postoperative unit on the second floor. According to their records, David had surgery yesterday for a fractured fibula and to remove a bullet. They stepped out of the elevator and saw an elderly Amish couple exiting a room.

“Guess we’re in the right place,” Martin muttered as he hitched his gear pack on his shoulder.

Trace kept his eyes straight, not making contact with the couple. He waited till they went into the elevator, then he entered the room.

In a hospital gown and strung up to an IV tower, David Augsburger looked like an average Joe. A brace over his bed kept his leg elevated. Weights provided a counterbalance to keep his leg up, and the pulleys provided traction. Trace knew that pain all too well.

“I already talked to the police.”

Trace entered the room, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. “We’re not with the police.”

Suspicion crowded the man’s expression, seeming to darken the bruise around his left eye.

Trace wanted to put him at ease, but he had little information he could dish out. “I’m with a special branch investigating your incident and that of Mrs. Gerig and—”

“Katie.” The way he said her name showed his affection for Téya/Katie. “They’re both missing. Please—you have to find them.”

“Yes, sir. We plan to, but we need your help.” Trace indicated to Martin. “My friend here works in a criminology lab.” Not quite the truth, but close enough. “He’s an expert on reconstructing faces from descriptions.”

David nodded, but the suspicion hadn’t yet left his face. “You want me to tell you about the man who did this to me.”

Trace nodded.

“Look,” David said, glancing to the window where medical staff and patients moved up and down the corridor. “I’m not sure—”

Trace leaned in, placing a hand on the man’s pillow and forcing him to look up. “You care about Katie, right, David?”

He swallowed.

“So, I need your help. Tell him what you saw. Give us something to go after whoever did this. Whoever took Mrs. Gerig and Katie.” He hated deceiving the guy, but he could not know what happened to Téya. She had to remain permanently MIA.

“Okay,” David said with a shaky voice.

Martin swung the bag onto the food tray and unzipped it. “Okay, this will be pretty painless.”

Téya

Somewhere along the Maryland-Pennsylvania border

4 May – 1345 Hours

“In position.”

The coms report of Nuala brought Téya’s head up from the live feed she’d been focusing on. Listening to. Hearing David’s voice pressed against her composure. Anger and hurt churned through her. Too many things angered her right now: being forbidden from seeing David; making sure he was okay; someone going after those she loved; and her own stupidity putting
Grossmammi
in danger in the first place.

Pushing back the tears proved harder with each minute she spent sitting in Boone’s oversized truck. Téya looked toward the three-story building a quarter mile away where Nuala had taken up her position on the roof.

“There are three—nope. Four—
five
!” Houston went silent for a second, and Téya glanced back at him. “Yes, five tangos. Make that four. I think the fifth—lying down—is most likely the old lady.”

Téya glowered at the tech geek.

Boone glanced at Annie then Téya. “Ready?”

After a curt nod, Téya slid on the hat and did a press check on her Glock. She adjusted the bulletproof vest before climbing out of the truck. They used the shadows and patches of grass to conceal their movement.

“Looking good,” Houston spoke through the coms, watching them from one of his drones.

Boone led her up the side of the building, lowering himself to a hunch-run. Téya followed his lead, and Annie trailed, watching their six.

“I have joy,” Nuala said, indicating she had a line of sight on one of their targets. “He is alone and outside.”

“Take the shot,” came the deep, husky voice of Boone.

Hustling up to the side steps, Téya felt her heart skip a beat. Irrational as it was, she wondered what would happen if her grandmother got mistaken for a target.

A firm pat came to her shoulder as Annie said, “She’ll be fine.”

Téya drew in a steadying breath, grateful for the friendship and familiarity with Annie. They’d been able to read each other’s thoughts and predict moves since they joined the team.

“Tango down,” Nuala called.

They stacked up on the door, ready to breach. “Going in,” Boone said, his gray eyes hitting Téya then moving past her to Annie. He held up a gloved finger.
One
. Then another.
Two
. And a final one.
Three
.

He stood and rammed his heel into the door.

The steel flung open.

Téya pushed upward, weapon at the ready, and entered. She swung right, tracing the wall and scanning. Behind her, she heard Annie moving away from her. Boone stepped in as Téya flanked left and pied-out. Their beams crossed.

Téya spotted the paneled-off area and indicated that direction with two fingers. The others followed as she swept into what turned out to be a narrow corridor.
So much for one big open space
. Houston needed to update his description skills.

She moved decisively but cautiously. Down about twenty paces, a doorway gaped, begging for them to enter its ambush. At least, that’s how it felt.

Annie’s pulse sped. Her grandmother was in there.
In who knows what kind of pain
.

They’d need to draw out at least one more of the targets. Téya lifted a fist and stopped. Bending down, she lifted a crumpled soda can. She tossed it down the hall. It clanked and thunked noisily.

Téya shifted to the right wall, pressing her shoulder against it. Waiting. Listening. No cheesy dialogue. Just the soft crunch of boots. Whoever had taken her grandmother expected them to come after her.

A gun slid into view, held steady by two hands.

The next second seemed to take forever as Téya anticipated neutralizing this guy.

Boone slid past her, dwarfing her.

Like lightning, he grabbed the guy’s weapon. Wrapped a beefy arm around his neck. Clapped his large hand over his mouth. Pressed against the back of his head. And dragged him out of sight.

The guy went limp in Boone’s arms. He laid him against the wall and strapped on plastic cuffs. Boone gave a nod.

Téya eased up to the doorway, Glock up and ready.

A pat came to her shoulder. She pushed into the doorway.

Tsing! Tink! Tsing!

She dove to the side as more shots rang out. On the ground, she searched for the shooter.

“Taking fire!” Annie spoke through the coms.

“No joy,” Nuala said. “I have no joy.”

Téya’s stomach tightened—the shooter had her grandmother and Nuala couldn’t get a line of sight on him.
It’s up to me
.

Remembering the layout, where they’d seen the tangos and her grandmother on the thermal scan from the drone, she made her way to the opposite wall that was perpendicular to where the tango held her grandmother. When she made it to the corner, she squinted through the dim light available but had no better view. In fact, a four-foot wall a few feet from the tango concealed him.

Téya crouch-ran along the wall.

“Téya,” came a whispered warning from Boone. “Easy.”

She stretched out along the half wall, her knees digging into the dirt as she held herself out of sight.

“Why don’t you come out?” Boone’s deep voice echoed through the large space. “Save everyone some work and pain.”

“Not happening.”

The man’s voice sounded close—closer than Téya imagined.
Must be on the other side of this wall
. Téya traced the plywood structure. She couldn’t just fire through it since she didn’t know where her grandmother lay. A stray shot could kill her grandmother or just anger the guy.

She knew what she had to do. Téya used every stealth skill she had and turned onto her butt. Boots touching the wall, she gently tested them against the steel. Held her weapon in a cradle grip.

Blew out a breath. Closed her eyes. Imagined the setting. Imagined success.
God, help me
. She thrust herself backward. Landed on her back. Eyes took a split-second to adjust. She saw the man. Fired twice.

He slumped to the ground.

Téya hopped to her feet, weapon still trained on the guy.

Behind her, Boone and Annie ran toward them.

After verifying the guy was dead, Téya went to the corner where her grandmother lay in the corner, whimpering.
“Grossmammi.”

Wizened eyes widened. “Katie?” came her whispered disbelief.

She gathered her grandmother into her arms, holding the eighty-two-year-old trembling frame close. “You’re okay now.”

Slightly gnarled fingers gripped her shoulders. “You are a
soldier
?” Fear. Disgust. Shock. They all tumbled through the face Téya loved. Soldiering, violence, war were all the antithesis to the Amish community. To what her grandmother believed in.

“Let’s move,” Boone ordered.

Annie was at her side, and together they helped her grandmother to her feet. They started for the door. Boone went ahead, still sweeping with his weapon as they crossed the open area. At the corner, he found the guy he’d knocked out. Only now he bore two bullet holes to the head.

Boone cursed. But started moving again. “Nuala, we have a shooter. He killed the hostage.”

“Roger, shooter spotted.” Nuala’s calm seemed preternatural. Scary calm, and her skills never failed. If someone met the Barbie-like girl on the street, they’d never know she was a top-notch sniper. “Target acquired. Rooftop.”