Storm Warning (Security Specialists International Book 4) (35 page)

At first, she couldn’t process what she saw. When she did, she realized the bloody pulp on the floor was her father. Her first reaction was sweet blessed relief it wasn’t her mother. Then guilt followed quickly and like acid ate away at her gut. Tears filled her eyes as a sense of loss squeezed her heart. Her father was dead—and she’d never learn why he hadn’t loved her.

Choking back tears, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. The overpowering smell of blood and raw meat exacerbated her already chaotic emotions.

As memories swamped her, her vision began to fade and her surroundings receded. Images streamed across her mind’s eye. The terrified, abused little girl crying as she hid in her attic bedroom. Her pa killing the kitten DJ smuggled into her bed. Pa hitting her when she’d tried to stop him from hurting Momma. Him sneering at DJ and refusing to let her attend her grade school graduation. Pa denying her offers of college scholarships without telling her. Him telling her she was a useless female and he should’ve drowned her at birth.

DJ cried out in a thin, wavering voice, “Pa … why…” then finished under her breath, “…didn’t you love me?”

She was so cold … alone … unloved.

“Sugar, wherever your head is at right now, you need to come back to me.” Ace pulled her boneless body into his arms. He held her high against his chest, rocking her like a child. “I’ve got you, Dahlia Jane. Hold onto me, baby.”

His words—her Ace—reached her through the emotional sludge dragging her into the past. She moved her arms. It was as if she swam through molasses, but finally she managed to place them around Ace’s neck. She buried her face against his neck and breathed him in. He was her safe haven in a chaotic world.

She kept breathing him in and, gradually, the world centered on its axis once again.

Bracing herself emotionally, she raised her head and looked at the body once more.

“Gawd…” she whispered. She’d seen worse in war zones, but … the body was almost unrecognizable. There were just enough identifying marks to verify it was her father.

DJ looked at Ace and then at Paul and Loren. The men wore similar grim expressions. “Why kill him now? And where’s my momma?”

There was no doubt in her mind who’d killed her father—either one of the Varneys had or they’d ordered it done.

“I’ll search the house.” Paul’s voice said he doubted he’d find anyone, but he’d make sure.

“Falling out of thieves?” Loren’s suggestion mirrored her thoughts.

Ace set her on her feet, but kept a supporting arm around her waist. The trio stood in silence, listening to the sounds of Paul checking out the cabin. His search didn’t take long; the cabin wasn’t all that big and her mother obviously wasn’t here or he would’ve shouted the news by now.

When Paul entered the room, he held up the tracker necklace. “She’s not here.” He went to stand by his brother and stared at her father’s body as if it would give up its secrets. “Looks as if he really pissed somebody off.”

“Yeah,” DJ sighed. “He was good at that.”

“For whatever reason he was killed,” Ace said. “The whole situation comes back to what the Varneys’ want now—and wanted when DJ was here before.”

“Revenge.” DJ leaned into Ace. “They want revenge for what I did to Sean.”

Ace hugged her. “Maybe your father stepped up and argued against taking on SSI to get you. Maybe he finally decided he wanted no part of what the Varneys had planned for you.”

DJ shook her head. “Don’t make him out to be that smart or honorable. My father was a self-centered bastard. Whatever caused the breakdown in relations, it revolved about what he wanted. He’d never put himself out there to protect me or Momma. After all, we’re useless women, only good for one thing.”

The emotional pain from years of her father’s abuse and rejection rose with a vengeance. DJ let out a howl and struggled to get free of Ace’s hold. She wanted to run and scream—hit something until her fists were bloody. She needed to rid herself of the lingering, hurtful shadows in her mind and soul.

But Ace wouldn’t let her move away. He held her tightly and pressed kisses against her neck and cheek, all the while muttering words of love.

Exhausted from unleashing years of pain and hurt, she slumped against him. Her bleary-eyed gaze on the body, she whispered, “To him, I was a commodity—used goods, at that.”

Ace growled and shook her. “You aren’t used goods. If I ever hear you talk about yourself like that again, I’ll … Hell, I don’t know what I’ll do, but you damn well won’t like it.”

God, he was so angry. He hadn’t even gotten this mad when Crawley had tried to put the moves on her during training.

“Ace, I…” She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Dammit, woman, you should be.” Ace rubbed his cheek over the top of her head. He stroked her back. She wasn’t sure whether it was to soothe her or him, probably a bit of both.

DJ allowed herself a few seconds to find her balance. Ace’s words and touch helped her quickly shove the past back where it belonged. She wasn’t that helpless little girl any longer. She was a woman—Ace’s woman—and that made her stronger than ever before.

“I’m okay now.” She looked up and found only love in Ace’s eyes. She chanced at look at Paul and Loren and found looks of support, no pity.

“Yeah, you are.” Ace smiled at her as he said the words, but in the next second, his expression turned cold with determination and banked anger. “The Varneys won’t stop until you’re dead at their hands. That isn’t going to happen.”

DJ looked into her man’s eyes and found the Varneys’ death. “Then let’s go put the bastards out of business permanently and get my momma back.”

****

Tweeter studied DJ’s face as she turned the Hummer onto an unpaved, snow-covered narrow road, which led to a back way into the Varneys’ compound. He’d let her drive, because she knew the area and because it gave her a concrete task on which to concentrate. After her emotional collapse, he wanted to give her duties to keep her mind in the here and now.

Since they’d left her family home, she’d been quiet … pensive. Her expression, a blank mask. She’d done what he’d expected and buttoned up her emotions, but they were still there, lying under the surface, roiling and boiling. As with any trauma, it would only take the right trigger to set those destructive emotions loose once more.

At this point, Tweeter was worried that trigger might be seeing Sean Varney again—or, worst case, finding Nancy dead.

In the midst of her earlier meltdown, a vacant look had turned her aqua-colored eyes to silver. In that moment, she’d been completely helpless, unable to move or defend herself.

Tweeter didn’t want her that vulnerable while on enemy territory. He’d like to leave her with the Hummer while he and the guys went in and did what needed to be done to get her mom back. But his warrior-woman was back in full force and she’d fight him over such an order.

The reality of it was, he and the guys needed DJ and her knowledge to sneak onto the Varneys’ property and then into the main house without alerting the men living in the compound.

Could they do the rescue without her? Yeah, but at a greater risk of injury or death to one of them or even Nancy.

But, goddammit, every protective instinct Tweeter possessed argued against taking her along. He couldn’t allow her to expose herself to danger if her head wasn’t one hundred percent in the game.

Tweeter was team leader. He had to make the call.

“DJ…” He spoke softly. “Sugar … you okay?”

Several moments of silence settled over the Hummer’s interior. He was afraid she wouldn’t answer and, thus, force him into a making a unilateral decision that could harm the trust she’d placed in him.

DJ pulled the Hummer into a small clearing and shut the motor off, then turned to look at him. Loren, Paul, and Price were quiet in the back, but he felt the heaviness of their focus on him and DJ. For several seconds, it seemed as if no one took a breath.

Then DJ heaved out a sigh filled with so many emotions, he wasn’t sure he could identify them if he tried. “Ace, I’m fine.” She shook her head. “No, erase that. I’m operational. I’ll be much better once I have my momma back. That’s my lodestone. I swear … I won’t let this team down.”

“None of us would blame you if you wanted…” Tweeter shut up when she placed her hand on his thigh.

“I know.” DJ squeezed his leg. “I hated my father with every fiber of my being, but…” She inhaled and let it out slowly. “…no one should have to die that way. The ones who killed him deserve whatever justice is meted out.”

Her eyes blazed with an inner fire and her voice grew savage. “My momma loved that man once. My biggest concern right now is being strong for her—getting her free and then helping her deal with his death. Sean Varney is a piece of shit and has no place in my head—ever again. Same goes for his father.”

The atmosphere in the vehicle lightened. His brothers and Price had seen what he saw—a female warrior staking her right to go to battle.

Tweeter brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “Everyone on Sanctuary, plus the entire Walsh clan, will help your momma deal with what happened.”

DJ kissed the pad of his thumb. “I know, and I’m so damn grateful to have you…” Then she turned to look at the three men in the back. “…all of you helping me through this.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Loren said. “You’ve been family ever since Dev and Andy adopted you.”

DJ smiled at Loren, then looked at Tweeter. “I’m ready to kick Varney butt. How about the rest of you?”

A chorus of “hoo-rahs” was the response.

As they unloaded the back of the Hummer, DJ outlined the approach to the property and where the danger would most likely occur. Tweeter noted that Paul and Loren looked impressed as they listened attentively. Price winked at Tweeter. Price had the advantage of working with DJ during her weeks of training back in Idaho.

DJ waved a hand toward the west. “There’s a trail through the woods which leads to a crag with a five-hundred-meter drop, overlooking the Varneys’ compound. Using this route, we’ll avoid the front gate security and the majority of perimeter alarms. There won’t be cameras. The country is too rugged. Plus, we’ll be on public land for most of our entry. The state refused to let Varney fence his property where it abuts public lands.”

“Good thing we brought climbing gear,” said Paul.

“Never knew a SEAL yet who didn’t plan for all contingencies.” DJ’s lips tipped upward briefly. “We could’ve made it down without it, but rappelling will be faster.”

Price interrupted, “Heads up, team. You should’ve just received a text from Ren.”

Tweeter and the others pulled up the text on their phones. “Looks like little sis pulled in some favors. We’re now working for Homeland, which is partnering with the FBI and the West Virginia State Police.”

“The Feds will run interference at the front for us. We’re authorized under federal law to gain entrance to the Varneys compound to find kidnap victim Nancy Poe and secure her safety and the safety of any other innocent civilians.” Loren continued to paraphrase the lengthy text message. “We’re also to feed real-time intel to the State Police SWAT teams and Homeland agents, so they can enter and seize weapons, drugs, and any or all other evidence of terrorist/criminal activity.”

“Well, that takes the illegality out of anything we have to do,” muttered Tweeter.

“I want to be in and out before the fireworks start,” DJ said. “Ed Varney’s men won’t give up without a fight. This has the potential of being another Waco.”

“Let’s avoid that if we can.” Tweeter hit a number on his phone and put it to his ear. “Ren … we’re on the move. Entering across public lands from the south. We’ll feed intel to you and you feed it to the Feds.” Tweeter listened for a bit. “Roger that. Out.”

Tweeter shut the call down and made sure his phone was on vibrate, then placed it into an inner zippered pocket. “Ren said ATF has joined the party and is currently playing nicely with the Staties and the other Fed teams. FYI, ATF has an informant inside the compound. He’s going to try to maintain cover, go to ground, and stay the fuck out of our way. His picture has been sent to your phones. Check it out. We don’t want to kill a good guy.”

“The undercover agent have any intel for us about what we might find on the grounds?” DJ asked.

“Some.” Tweeter stayed next to DJ as she led the way to the crag. “There are weapons and munitions in a large pole barn on the south side of the property. The informant reported he saw the Varneys bring in an unconscious woman. They took her to the main house. He can’t tell us exactly where in the house.”

DJ’s mouth thinned at the news of her mother, but her stride never faltered as she picked her way over ground only a mountain goat could love. “I’ve been in that house many times. Ed was big on his people eating and drinking together. There are two floors and a basement. Lots of entry points. We can easily get in and out without the Varneys ever knowing we were there, especially if our law enforcement friends make a big stink at the front gate for us.”

“How many men does Varney have in the compound?” Paul asked as he walked and fondled his rifle.

“No exact number given,” Tweeter said. “Best guess from the area locals who were interviewed by Homeland, about thirty. Paul, we’ll find you some high ground once we’re in the holler so you can cover our asses with your sniper rifle.”

“Got it, baby bro,” Paul said.

“Assclown!” Tweeter slapped Paul on the back of the head.

Loren laughed. “Showed you, twin.

Tweeter snorted back a laugh as Paul flicked a pine cone at his twin. “DJ, Price, and I will breach the house. Loren can cover us on the ground.”

“Works for me,” Loren said.

Price nodded.

Tweeter swatted DJ on the butt. “Get us down there, sugar.”

DJ stood at the base of the five-hundred-meter mountain wall and pulled off her climbing harness. The last man down, Paul, would clear away any signs of their ingress. They still had another decline of about thirty meters to traverse through trees and knee-deep snow.

“I can see why we can’t get Nancy out the way we came in.” Ace came up behind her, pulled her back against his chest, and gave her a hard squeeze. “So, the exit plans you discussed?” She nodded. “Where are those resources … exactly?”

DJ looked out over the holler. The compound’s buildings were lit up like the Las Vegas Strip. “See the building on the northwest side,” she pointed, “the one with the large dark space next to it?”

“Yeah. What is it?” Ace said.

The other men had gathered closer and looked to where she pointed.

“That’s where Ed always kept a helicopter. He used to have a Bell jet helicopter. I figure he still has something similar. If not, there’s a lightly guarded side gate behind that building and we can just borrow a four-wheel drive and crash it through the wooden gate. Let the Feds do clean up.”

“Our main objective is the two-story Victorian house in the center of the compound.” She turned to Paul. “Since I’m sure there’s a chopper down there, if you take up a sniper position on that ledge over there,” she pointed at an overlook on her right, “I can hover and pick you up on our way out of here.”

“If there’s no chopper?” Loren asked.

“We’ll drive our ‘borrowed’ vehicle back to the Hummer and one of us can tend the lines so Paul can climb up to us.” DJ began walking down the slope, picking her way around trees and watching her footing. The deep snow covered all sorts of holes and rocks that could cause a fall. “Never left a man behind, ever.”

“Either way works for me.” Paul’s steady voice came over the headset as he made his way laterally to the position she’d pointed out.

After several minutes of silence, Paul reported in.“More than adequate view from this elevation. I have lines of sight on all the buildings at the back of the property and the rear view of the main house. Also, the hanger building. Have an oblique angle on the main gate and the guardhouse. I’ll set up. You’ll be covered by the time you reach the end of the tree line.”

“Roger that,” Ace said. “You handle all direct communications with Ren and any joint communications he sets up with the Feds and the State Police. Give us a heads up on what we need to know.”

Paul came back with a “roger that.” All was silent once more but for the wind whistling in the pines, the crunching of snow under their feet, and the team’s breaths over the headsets.

Once they hit the floor of the holler, DJ moved through a heavily treed area that led into the compound itself. They then wove their way between a few out-buildings, some empty, some used for storage. About halfway toward their goal, she signaled a halt and knelt down among a thick stand of pines.

“Guard,” she muttered into her headset. “Barracks.”

Ace placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating he understood. Loren slid out and shadowed the man. They waited and watched to see how many other guards were on patrol in the area. DJ didn’t want to take anyone down and have an alarm sounded too early. If they could sneak by the man, that would be best.

A minute, maybe two went by. All she could think of was how much damage a man could do to a woman in that short space of time, especially to a woman as petite as her mother.

Loren moved back to Ace’s side. “Only the one.”

“Confirmed,” Paul’s voice came over the headset. “Loren’s guy is now at the outer perimeter and heading in a clockwise patrol pattern. I see one other man on the opposite side of the compound also proceeding clockwise. Heads up. Five minutes. Feds knock loudly on the front gate.”

DJ stood and hurried forward, using the landscaping and buildings’ shadows to hide their progress. Her goal was the pool house which would give them cover to wait for the distraction the Feds would provide. After they’d passed the last set of barracks, she breathed a sigh of relief. So far they’d managed to avoid a fight in which they would’ve been outnumbered and outgunned.

She signaled another halt and crouched behind some shrubbery. The pool house was in sight.

A flash of memory hit her out of the blue.
The annual pool party for Varney’s men and their families. She was sixteen. She’d really blossomed since the previous summer. She wore a red two-piece swimsuit. She garnered far too much male attention.
That had been the summer Sean Varney really noticed her—and began to stalk her.

A dark vortex of emotions enveloped her, sucking her down so fast she gasped for breath—then Ace’s scent, his light touch on her arm, broke through the maelstrom threatening to swallow her reality. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she quickly shook off the past.

Opening her eyes, she turned and found the men motionless, alert—and waiting for her direction. The fact they trusted her, especially after her meltdown at the cabin, heartened her.

Back on task, she studied the approach to the pool house. They had to cross a wide open, well-lit area to reach the safety of the building itself. This would be the most exposure they’d encountered since they entered the Varneys’ land.

DJ silently thanked whoever had cleared off the pathways and cement patio around the pool house. At least, they wouldn’t be leaving any obvious tracks.

After several seconds of observation—and as her mental timer counted down to the Feds diversion—a certainty settled into her gut. They were alone and still undetected. She rose and motioned the men to follow her. Hunching low, she ran across the open space. She flattened herself against the side of the pool house in the shadow of the overhang. The men followed, one-by-one, moving swiftly and silently.

She opened the unlocked door and slid inside. The team followed on her heels. There was light coming through the many windows from the security lights dotting the compound, made even brighter by the reflection off the snowy landscape and the white cement patio. They’d need to stay low, below window level, so as not to be seen by any passing patrols.

“We should be safe here while we wait for the diversion. We also need to time the foot patrols around the house.” DJ duck-walked toward the windows facing the rear of the house. The distance from the pool house door to the house was around nine meters, less than thirty feet. “From here, you can see the brick balustrade which marks the steps down to the basement entrance.”

Ace knelt next to her. Loren and Price were on the other side of him. The men surveyed the objective.

“Let’s go over our roles,” DJ said as she spotted a guard walking a security perimeter around the main house. She set the timer on her watch to mark the timing between patrols. “Price?”

“Once we’re in the basement,” Price said. “I’ll go to the first floor, clear the back of the house, and then secure the rear entrance for our egress.”

“I’ll make sure y’all get inside the basement safely. Deal with any guards who might happen upon you,” Loren said. “Once you signal you’re in and hunting, I’ll make my way to the hanger and check on our transport. If there is no chopper, I’ll secure ground transport and advise where to rendevous.”

“I’ll search for Nancy with you,”Ace said. “I’ll clear the second floor. Take out any second floor guards. Rescue your mom if she’s up there. If she isn’t, I’ll come downstairs and back you up.”

Paul’s voice came over the headsets. “I’ll relay intel and also cover your entry and exit of the house.”

“Two men have passed by at approximately thirty seconds apart. If that’s their spacing, I should see another one”—DJ looked up from her watch—“right now.”

A guard walked by, smoking a cigarette, his rifle cradled in his arms.

“Thirty second intervals. We all can’t make it down to the basement door and inside in that short of a time frame,” Price said.

“DJ needs to go first. I’ll go second,” Ace said. “Price, you come once we indicate we’re in. Paul … we’re counting on you to give us the wider, bird’s-eye view on guards coming up on our asses so Loren can take them down, if needed.”

“Roger that,” Paul said.

“Then we’re set. Now, all we need is the diversion promised us. They’re late.” DJ looked at Ace, was reassured by his steely calm, and became calmer herself as if by osmosis.

“Typical bureaucracy. Probably arguing over which agency gets to use the bullhorn. DJ, keep your headset on,” Ace said. “If you run across the Var—”

Paul cut off what DJ was sure would’ve been a “do not engage” order. “Lights just went brighter at the front of the property.” The former SEAL sounded as if he were reporting a boring golf match. “The barracks y’all passed just lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas. Men on the run. Loaded for bear. Wait to make your move.”

“Roger that,” DJ said. “We’ll let them pass. Re-verify the house patrol timing.”

“On that,” Loren said as he lifted his wrist, ready to time, as he stared at the back of the house.

“With the increased threat level, they might move Nancy,” Ace said.

“No, they won’t. Ed Varney won’t run. He’d lose face with his followers. But he does have hidey-holes,” DJ said. “Though, he might increase the inside guards. So … watch your asses.”

The men grunted at her warning. She couldn’t help but grin. If acknowledgment grunts could sound insulted, theirs had.

As the real action neared, a sense of preternatural calm settled over DJ. Her vision and hearing became more acute. Her perception of the surroundings became more intense until she saw and heard not only what was there, but could intuit what might be there. These were the same feelings she had when flying a Black Hawk into the danger zone. She called it her mission-sense.

At that moment, she was zeroed-in on the target.

After about twenty men ran by without giving the pool house a glance, she and the others waited for Loren’s report on house perimeter guards’ timing.

“Shit,” Loren muttered. “Still one man every thirty seconds.

“Figures,” she said with disgust. “Varney would have his most reliable men protecting his ass in the house.”

For damn sure, Sean wouldn’t be at the front gate defending the compound. Both Ed and his son valued their hides too much to take on the Feds one-on-one. That’s what they had all the men surrounding them for.

In a way, she was glad. There was an ugly part of her that wanted to confront the Varneys.

After one guard passed, DJ stood and nudged Ace. “Get ready. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave—before the Feds overrun the place.”

Ace cracked a grin. “Don’t want to stick around and deal with government paperwork?”

“Hell, no.” She led the way to the door and paused before opening it, checking that the last guard had passed around the far corner of the house. “Had enough of that in the military.”

Mentally ticking off thirty seconds in her head, she ran toward the cement and brick wall that bordered the steps to the basement. She made it into the stairwell before Paul’s voice came over her headset. “Guard turning the corner of the house. Keep down, guys.”

DJ crouched in the darkest corner at the bottom of the stairwell. The guard walked by the entrance without stopping, without looking down. Not that well-trained. Guards should look in all directions on patrol, including up and down.

“Tweeter’s on the move,” Paul said. “Action at front gate has escalated. Varney’s men are now shooting at the Feds.”

The sounds of automatic weapon fire echoed off the surrounding mountains and buildings like rolling waves of thunder. World War III militia-style had come to Appalachia.

DJ needed to get inside the house. The Varneys would use anything and anyone to protect their own skins. Her mother was the perfect hostage to hide behind which was why DJ wanted her out of the middle of this clusterfuck sooner rather than later.

She turned to open the door, then stopped.
Shit. Damn. Fuck.
There was a coded alarm on the door. She could smash it, but that would definitely announce their presence.

This was a job for Ace. She turned to look up as he came down the steps as stealthily as a jaguar. She indicated the alarm system on the door. He pulled a small set of tools from a pocket and began working on the box, a penlight held in his mouth so he could see.

She covered his actions and the tell-tale light by placing her body between him and any danger from above. Her Beretta aimed upward, she worried her lip with her teeth and prayed the next guard was as lax as the last one had been.

“Guard approaching,” Price reported. “Are you in?”

She clicked twice for no.

“Roger that,” Price said. “Loren and I will hold and cover from the pool house until you are.”

Ace snorted, a low disgusted sound. She looked over her shoulder and found him still working on the alarm, his long, supple fingers flying over the small box’s innards.

“DJ!” Price’s voice again. His tone held a warning. “Next guard is checking high and—low.”

She sensed Ace stiffen for a split-second. She reached back and patted his hip. Holstering her weapon, she moved up the stairs.

Ace’s “fuck” came across her headset as a feral snarl, but he didn’t stop working on the door.

Stopping two steps from the top, she used the brick balustrade to hide her presence until the last possible second.

“He’s two meters from the opening,” Price said. “Go at my diversion.”

At the sound of glass breaking, DJ flowed out of her cover and was on the man whose attention was on the pool house. Simultaneously, her hand went over his mouth and her arm, around his neck. One quick, adrenaline-fueled jerk and his neck was broken.

Her knees buckled as she took the man’s body weight. He wasn’t much bigger than she was, but dead weight and her position at his back threw her off-balance. Just as she was about to drop the body and reposition to drag him into the shrubbery, Ace relieved her of the man’s weight and boosted him over his shoulder.

DJ turned and moved back into the shelter of the stairwell with Ace and his burden on her heels.

The basement door was open and no alarms.
Thank you, Jesus.