“Yes, but it’s hard to conceal,” Dana said dryly. “As long as you have the handguns and the Tasers, we’re good.”
“My guys will come geared,” Dale said.
“It’s not for you,” Dana responded. “You need eyes inside and a distraction, right? If you’re right, there’s only one thing that’s going to get you through the outer perimeter and inside, and it’s not a bunch of strapping guys who are obvious military. If you pose as a homeless derelict stumbling into their lair, they’ll shoot first and dump the body.”
“So what are you proposing?” Dale raised his brow. “If you think I’m taking civilians into an op like this…”
“I believe we called you, so technically it’s our op.” Dana’s expression hardened. If Janet hadn’t known of Dana’s military background before, she’d have been forcibly reminded of it now, because her expression mirrored Dale’s. “I’m a combat veteran, Marcie is MMA trained and has used it—more than capably—for her job in corporate investigations. She also knows her firearms.”
Marcie nodded. Her brown eyes were cool, her hip cocked and arms crossed.
“As for Janet,” Dana tilted her head toward her, “some of her nicknames at K&A include Ice Bitch and Scybo. It’s an acronym for She’ll Cut Your Balls Off. Sorry if you didn’t know that, Janet.”
“No problem. You left out Dragon Lady. HR likes that one.”
“Sorry to be rude, but you’re blind, soldier.” Dale reached out, tapped Dana’s forehead with one finger.
“Thanks for the newsflash. The blind have over-developed proximity senses. Consider it like the Force. I could have caught hold of your wrist just now and broken some shit, but didn’t want to mess up your trigger finger.”
Dale set his jaw, but before he could say anything else, Janet stepped forward. “I get it,” she said. “You don’t feel comfortable with this. But they’re right about the eyes inside and distraction, aren’t they? It would be ideal if all three of us had your training, but perhaps that’s not what this moment requires. It simply requires the ability to stay cool under pressure, to play a role no matter what stressors occur. The firepower, the strength, the accuracy, the response—that will be your area, yours and your guys. Dana isn’t overestimating our abilities. There are women who work as cultural support teams to SEALs, women with military training, aren’t there? This is like that.”
This was how she accomplished things for Matt. Lay out the facts, the logic. Though she’d never compared meeting arrangements, legal documentation and handling the schedules of five busy men to planning a military op, she expected some of the same advance planning skills and anticipation of contingencies were needed. As well as a cool, level head. She could do that. Because if she looked beyond that, there was terror, trembling…the smell of blood permanently embedded in her nose.
Dale blew out a breath. “Max said you’d been watching way too many SEAL training videos. Okay, soldier,” he directed that to Dana, “tell me the plan. But let me make one thing clear.”
He swept a hard gaze over all of them. “I am in charge of this op, which means you follow my orders from beginning to end. If you don’t convince me that what you’re thinking is a sound plan and our best chance, then you’ll obey my order to stand down and let me and my men handle this. The objective is to get Max out of this alive. You have to trust me to know the best way to do that. All right?”
Dana and Marcie didn’t speak. Instead, they looked toward Janet, and she saw Dale did the same. By stepping forward, she’d taken the leadership role, and Dana and Marcie had deferred to her. Though Janet knew she had formidable organization skills, she didn’t think that topped their tactical skills. They were deferring to her because they somehow realized she had the most to lose. That terrified place inside her trembled hard, and she clamped down on it like a pit bull. Reminding herself she was the Ice Bitch, she gave a short nod. “Fair enough. Dana, tell us what you’re thinking.”
When Dana was done, Dale had grilled her twenty different ways on it, tweaking and refining. Janet and Marcie jumped in here and there to add additional details, which seemed to increase Dale’s confidence in all of them. By the time he seemed satisfied, the others had arrived. Four strapping men was a good description, though it wasn’t because of their size. Lawrence was no taller than five-seven yet stocky with muscle, and Neil had a rangy Jimmy Stewart build. Billy was closer to the size of Dale, and sounded like he’d come straight out of the West Virginia hills. But they all had the same stamp she’d noticed on Max. They were men trained to undertake dangerous jobs and not let anything stop them from succeeding.
The fourth man was Aaron, but rather than having him come to the church, Dale explained he’d sent him to collect intel in the field.
The ticking clock in her head was going to drive her mad. Terence had been clear. They were to take Max, hold him for Dino, and the street intel said Dino wasn’t coming in until after dark. It was closing in on five o’clock now. Max had to still be alive, unless something had gone wrong on the snatch, and if that had been the case, Dale would have found his body. She swallowed over a jagged ball in her throat.
“Master Chief?” Neil extended his cell phone to Dale. “Might want to show them our target.”
Nodding, Dale turned the picture on the screen to them. “This is Dino—”
“Delgado,” Janet finished, staring at the picture. “I know him.”
The world had tilted. Dale reached out to steady her, Marcie slipping a hand around her waist. Janet’s mind fought through the swimming hysteria. No. It’s been over fifteen fucking years. I am not letting this control me.
“I was involved with a man in Mexico, years ago,” she said. “This was one of his associates. He was very low on the totem pole then, but obviously he’s moved up.” Probably due to the gap she provided by taking out Jorge.
“So does that help us or harm us?” Neil asked.
“Helps,” she said, firming her chin. “It will make our cover more believable. We can adjust the plan like this…”
The initial objections were fierce, because the adjustment put her at the front of the approach, but they couldn’t argue with the logic to it, not when she laid it out as coolly as she did, pointing out flaws in any argument against it. After the strategy was mapped out thoroughly with all players, there was a moment of significant silence. Dale shook his head. “Max won’t forgive me if you get hurt, Janet.”
“I’m not concerned about his forgiveness. He’s mine. I’m getting him back. You said if the plan wasn’t the best way to go about it, you’d say so. You’re not saying so.”
The SEAL met her gaze, nodded. “Yeah. It’s a sound plan.”
He drew his men away, going over tactical issues relevant to their placement outside the potential location. Janet and Marcie looked at one another, Marcie reaching out to cover Dana’s hand. “One of us needs to call Savannah,” Janet said. “Tell her what we’re doing, so if something goes wrong…she’ll know what happened and can notify Matt, do damage control as needed. Know how to find us.”
Anticipate contingencies, make sure the flow of information was adequate to keep all necessary parties informed. Who knew being a secretary would prove to be so useful on a special op?
“Agreed,” Dana said. “She’ll bring Rachel into the loop. We might need her before the night is over. She can pave our way into medical facilities with few questions. Unless we’re dead, of course.”
“Yeah.” Marcie gave them her serious smile, though her brown eyes glinted. “On the plus side, if this goes well, Ben is going to be so pissed at me. I can’t wait.”
“You twisted freak,” Dana said with fond exasperation, but then she closed her hand on Janet’s, linking the three of them. “Are you okay, honey?”
She’d never been the type of person anyone would call honey. In fact, no one had ever used an endearment on her. Except Max. He called her Mistress, meant it like that. “I can’t lose him,” she said tonelessly. She felt like an iron furnace, everything locked down yet containing hellfire. “I just found him.”
“We’re getting him back,” Dana said resolutely. “Count on it. You knowing the target is going to be a big plus, Janet.”
Marcie nodded, putting her hand on Janet’s other arm, squeezing hard. Despite her joke, the young woman’s eyes were sharp as a knife blade. She could handle herself in this environment. They all could. They’d all been there, in one way or another. Janet thought of the blood on her hands, running down a sink, and closed her fingers into fists. She’d killed Jorge when she was in her twenties. Now, in her forties, she could endure, handle anything. Except losing the man she’d finally given her heart.
Dale had insisted on a thorough understanding of how she knew Dino. She hadn’t told him she’d murdered Jorge, because no one in the world but Matt and Max knew that, but she told him she’d gotten away from Jorge and then heard he’d been murdered by a competitor. All technically true, so she didn’t feel it hampered their efforts to leave it like that. Going after a man who’d been kidnapped, who might be killed, was one thing, and bad enough. Making Dale and the rest of them accessories after the fact to her crime was a whole other scenario.
As a result, she understood why Max had wanted to go after Dino on his own, to avoid putting his fellow SEALs in the position of breaking the law to come to his aid. Yet the day Dale had given her his cell number, his direct look had been a silent, clear message. That was Max’s choice, but Dale had the right to make choices of his own. Just as Dana and Marcie had made the choice to be here with her now, the three of them risking their lives for Max.
“Got him.” Dale snapped his phone closed, turned around. He met Janet’s eyes. “Aaron says they moved him to another abandoned warehouse right off the waterfront. It’s a maze down there. Even better, it’s the typical rathole where, if the cops ask, nobody sees anything. Got three guys on the outside, four inside. They’re part of Dino’s crew from Mexico, not locals. That works in our favor as well.”