“Why don’t you have your own plane? You can afford it.” Megan was undeterred. “You could call up a plane dealer and order a Cessna in pink.”
People started to chuckle as Rachel stared at Megan. “It really doesn’t take much to amuse you, does it?”
“Nope.” Megan grinned at the woman.
“Okay.” Callum stood. “Dimitri, this is your op. We’re here for you. But Lake has a lot of experience in extractions like this. I’d take his advice. Ryan, Joe, you two head to the office and pick up the gear we’ll need. Grunt, Lake, Dimitri and myself will get started on the planning. Any questions?”
“Yeah, what about me?” Megan said. “Don’t I get to come too?”
“No!” Every man in the room shouted at the same time.
Megan sat back down in a huff. She folded her arms and glared at Dimitri. “The only reason you aren’t getting an argument right now is because I know how important this is.”
“And because you don’t work for me any more,” Callum pointed out.
“Oh,” Megan pouted. “I forgot about that.”
Dimitri leaned over, clasped the back of Megan’s neck and kissed her hard. “I appreciate you want to come, Buffy, but I need you safe too. I can only handle worrying about one woman I care about at a time.”
Megan seemed a little stunned as Dimitri turned back to Callum. “What about protection for Megan while we’re gone?”
“Ryan and I will stay here. Durand is still a problem. We don’t want to take risks.”
“I’d like to point out, again,” Megan said loudly, “that I don’t need a keeper. I can actually look after myself. I have self-defence skills and I’m good at thinking on my feet.”
“Nobody questions that, Buff.” Dimitri tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s what you think that scares the life out of us.”
“Idiot,” she grumbled, but stayed in place.
Chapter Thirty-One
They arrived in the outskirts of Morocco’s capital, Rabat, just after two in the morning. They drove through the city from the airport, watching the mix of French colonial and Islamic architecture slide past. Modern white apartment blocks were dwarfed by the red stone walls of the Roman-built Kasbah fort, small blue mosaicked houses peeked out amongst modern office buildings and green oasis gardens were interspersed throughout the city landscape. The large tiled domes of the mosques were lit up in warm colours that glowed against the black night. Palm trees lined their route along the coast, with the blank void of the Atlantic their constant companion.
They were a four man team: Lake Benson, Grunt, Joe and Dimitri. One ex-SAS specialist, two ex-Marines
and one ex-Ranger. They were kitted out in black tactical vests over black T-shirts and cargo pants. They all wore kneepads, boots and fingerless gloves. Each of them carried an M4, with a Berretta and knife strapped to their thighs.
Warmth spread through him as he remembered Megan’s goodbye before he’d left. Other women would have kissed him and told him to be careful. Megan had taken one look at his tactical vest and demanded he buy her one for Christmas. Crazy woman.
“We ready?” Lake was driving, as he knew the capital city of Morocco well. Dimitri didn’t ask how he’d gained his familiarity with the city. They all had their secrets.
“Yeah.” Dimitri was more than ready. He was desperate to get to his sister. A desperation he was trying to keep a lid on, because impatience would cause mistakes. Ones he couldn’t afford to make.
Grunt grunted and Joe nodded as he checked his gear one more time. It felt like a ritual. Like they’d been a team for a very long time. And even though Dimitri was the only member of their team who had never set foot in Morocco before then, he still felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity about everything they saw and did.
“Lake’s on point,” Dimitri said, although they knew this. “I’m second. Comms check.”
They each activated their comm units which ran up from their vests to sit flush against their throats.
Without being prompted, Lake cut the lights on their SUV as they swung into the suburb where Henri Boudin’s estate was located. They’d gone over the security information in detail. They knew exactly what to expect. They were ready.
Once they parked the car along the road from the house, they headed for the side wall. What felt like a minute later, they had disabled the cameras and were over the wall. Crouching low, M4s in hand, they approached the house in tight formation, scanning for the enemy, moving in silence towards the rear of the property.
Lights were on in the three-storeyed mansion. The vast windows left nothing to the imagination. From this angle the house had amazing views of the ocean, but was completely open to observation. And there was something wrong. There were no people. The estate was silent in a way that only ever occurred when a place was empty.
Dimitri made hand signals indicating they should spread out. They automatically split up into two pairs. Joe with Grunt. Lake with Dimitri. They kept to the shadows, scanning constantly. Nothing.
Dimitri tapped Lake’s shoulder and pointed to the corner of the terrace where he knew a guard was usually posted. Lake nodded and they moved together, covering each other as they did so. Lake saw it first. He held up a fist to stop Dimitri, then signalled for him to cover him. Dimitri tapped his shoulder to acknowledge his order. A minute later Lake broke radio silence.