Rescued by the SEAL (Black Ops)

“Are you really going to trust him to make the decision?” I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. “He’s not worried about using me as a bargaining chip if you guys get caught. He wants to keep me around because he’s a pervert who’s pissed that I kneed him in the balls when he tried to feel me up.”

“Fucking hell, man.” Jack glared at the creepy dude. “Do you have a death wish? Because I’m damn sure her man is going to take you sexually assaulting the girl a fuck of a lot more seriously than her breaking a nail.”

“I barely even touched her,” his partner whined, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look out the window. “And I still say that you’re making too much out of that dude’s threats.”

I barely stifled a gasp when Jack pulled a handgun out and rested it on his thigh. The other guy didn’t notice, and I wasn’t about to warn him when he was the one who was the bigger threat to my safety. “You’re wrong. We’re down two men already because of that guy.”

“We don’t know what happened to Larry.”

Jack’s finger slid over the trigger, and my whole body tensed in fear. “Her man was in the lobby and had a fucking silencer on his weapon. What the fuck do you think happened to Larry? He’s dead, just like Steven.” He lifted the gun and fired a bullet straight into the other guy’s head. “And just like you now, too. Fucking idiot.”

At the sight of another splatter of brains and blood, my vision grayed. I let out a little whimper of distress, and Jack’s attention turned to me. “I’ll give you the same warning I did him. Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll take my chances with your man, kill you, and let your body rot in the back of this van.”

I was a heck of a lot smarter than his dead partner, so I nodded and didn’t say another word.

4

Huntley

Cash met me at my house fifteen minutes later. As well as Stirling, who was on our Intelligence Team, and Deacon, whose specialty was Surreptitious Entry and Technical Surveillance Operations. Cash and I both had specialty training as Snipers and Advanced Air Operation. Not that being a Jumpmaster or Parachute Rigger would help us find Cora.

The four of us lived the closest to our base, and I was grateful that we’d just returned from a deployment because it meant they were home.

“Not out here,” I grunted as they all exited their vehicles.

“It’s the girl from the bank, isn’t it?” Cash asked once we were inside.

I tossed him a dark look, and he held up his hands in surrender. “Not saying we shouldn’t help her. Just asking.”

Quickly, I explained the events from the robbery. I didn’t go into why I was desperate to help Cora, other than her being an innocent woman who’d been taken hostage. I must not have hidden it all that well, though, because I saw the realization in their eyes.

I pivoted and marched down the hall to my office, assuming they would follow. I didn’t have the level of technical skills with a computer that Deacon did, but I wasn’t a slouch either, so my setup was very sophisticated.

Deacon took a seat and started tapping on the keyboard. Within a few minutes, he found the footage from the bank cameras. Then he asked me about routes, and we speculated, trying a few different sets of street and highway cams before we finally spotted the vans.

While Deacon followed the paths of the vehicles, the rest of us analyzed the bank footage.

“They are a practiced team,” Stirling murmured. “But look at their body language in the beginning, when they’re all together. This one is clearly in charge”—I nodded, recognizing the guy from the vault—“but the other three don’t respect him. And they certainly don’t trust each other.”

“Damn, Huntley,” Cash said when the film showed my two kills. “Nice shots.” They’d been easy for someone with my training, but we could still appreciate the perfect placement of the bullet wounds.

“Why didn’t you go for the guy holding the girl?” Stirling asked, his brow lowered in confusion.

“He didn’t want to chance hitting her, dipshit,” Cash said, rolling his eyes.

“When’s the last time you missed a target?” Stirling’s tone was exasperated.

“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “I wasn’t about to take a chance that this would be the one to break my streak.”

“I’ve got something.” We all gathered around Deacon to look at the two screens in front of him. “None of the vans have plates. But it’s impossible for them to all look exactly alike.”

He froze two pictures and pointed at the first van. “This is the one that pulled out of the bank parking lot.” He pointed at a second screen. “Looking at the others in comparison, there are subtle differences. This one’s mirrors are bent at a different angle.” He hit a key, and the screen switched to a view of another van, so it was side by side with our perps. “The back right tire on this one is brand new.”