Page 103 of Always Been Mine

“If Porter hasn’t shown up, they might not be there and may be assisting him somewhere else.”

“I’ll go with him,” Travis announced.

“What?” Caitlin exclaimed. “I think the best idea is to forget this.” She turned to Beatrice. “I’m sorry, Bee, but your dad is a big pain in the ass. He tells us to do something and we do it and then he turns around and changes his plans without telling us.”

“What if something happened to him?” It was obvious it took an effort for Beatrice to vocalize her fears. Her face was pinched with worry. That thought had occurred to Gabe, but he hadn’t wanted to add to the anxiety of the group. Caitlin suddenly looked remorseful, and Travis looked stony-faced. Sam was standing quietly against the wall.

“You know the admiral better than that, Bee,” Travis said. “He’s too smart to let something happen to him.”

“If they have him, the more we need to get to the meet,” Gabe stated resolutely. “He told us to do recon on the area. We did so thoroughly yesterday, Travis.” The meet was at an old barn on a farm. Because it was winter, cover was scarce. There were no leaves on trees and only skeletal bushes dotted the area. At least, there was no snow on the ground because there was no white camouflage gear available.

Gabe was already suited up. Black cargo pants, military boots, black tee and jacket. The rest of his equipment and ammunition was in a backpack. He had a carbine to tote, a pistol in a thigh holster, and another in the back. He looked at Travis. “We’ve got an armory downstairs. Go gear up.”

“Just recon, okay?” Caitlin linked her hands with Travis. “Don’t get too close and don’t engage.”

“Just recon, babe,” Travis agreed. “Sam, can you call Nate and have him come over. Two men should be covering the safe house while we’re away.” Sam nodded and left to make the call.

“That goes for you, too,” Beatrice looked pointedly at Gabe. “Even if you recognize Redrook, let my dad deal with it. Right now, you guys are vigilantes and acting outside government sanction.”

Standing down with a target in sight, knowing he played a role in torturing Beatrice, was going to be difficult, but he would give Beatrice the reassurance she needed.

“You got it, poppy,” Gabe said, drawing her close and kissing her forehead.

“I got the barn in sight,”Gabe murmured through comms. The farm was set amid rolling hills and he had hunkered down along the crest of one, training his binoculars at the structure in question.

He and Travis parked their SUV a mile from the location and hoofed it the rest of the way. The short hike was beneficial in keeping them sharp. Oxygenated blood kept them warm and aided their focus. They had agreed to split their area of coverage. Travis covered the back of the barn, while Gabe was in charge of the front. There were guards stationed at the beginning of the long driveway leading to the barn, probably to check the buyers before they were allowed through. Caitlin was issued a QR-code for identification. Gabe and Travis knew what areas to avoid.

“Two guards,” Gabe added. “They don’t look like Fuego. I’d say they’re ex-military.”

“Mercenaries?”

Gabe adjusted his optics closer. “Yeah.” His reply was noncommittal. “But not too sure.”

“Copy that, buddy.”

Buddy. Gabe allowed the word to sink in. It might have been a slip on Travis’s part, but the man’s willingness to be his wingman in this op reminded him of their brotherhood in the SEALs.

“I see a car approaching the back of the barn.” Travis’s voice crackled through comms. After a few minutes, he said, “Fuck, it’s Zach Jamison.”

“Alone?”

“He has some underling carrying a couple of briefcases.”

The ST-Vyl virus.

“I don’t think Redrook is in that vehicle,” Travis added.

Unless Zach was Redrook, which was highly unlikely given his background. He checked the time. It was 9:45 p.m., themeet was set at 10:00 p.m. Usually in transactions like this, timing was very precise. Too early was not good and increased the risk of getting caught. A minute past meet time was a no-no as well because it increased the tension in the waiting party.

The buyers should be arriving in the next fifteen minutes.

There was a muffled curse from Travis, followed by a grunt.

“Travis?” Caitlin’s panicked voice crackled over their communication system. “Gabe, what’s going on?”

“Fuck,” Gabe muttered as he levered himself up from his prone position. A twig snapped behind him, and he heard a muttered expletive. The sounds were on top of him, so without looking back, Gabe fell to his side and swept his leg in an arc. His fishing expedition caught someone’s leg and sent the person crashing to his back. Gabe pushed to his knees and grabbed the pistol from his thigh holster, but a swift kick from his assailant, who was still on the ground, knocked the gun from his hand.

Stunned at the lightning reflexes of his opponent, Gabe withdrew his knife and pounced . . . and found himself flying in the air, somersaulting actually, and landing on his back.

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