Page 34 of Dangerous Protocol

Next was his black tactical vest. He stuffed it into a large duffle bag along with extra magazines and ammo. His weapons of choice were a Glock 45 in the holster at his waist and the Glock 21 Gen 4 in his thigh holster. It felt strange not taking his rifle, but it wasn’t for this op. He looked around a last time, smacked the switch to shut off the light, and secured the room.

Time to get his daughter back.

About three hours later, Jeffrey rolled to a stop next to Cole Lambert’s black Range Rover where he’d parked in front of the large, private hangar at the end of the airstrip.

He tapped the screen on his phone to call Maya. She answered before the second ring.

“Are you there?” she asked.

“I just pulled up to the hangar.” He’d promised to keep her informed as much as possible. “I’ll be going radio silent pretty soon, but I wanted to tell you again that we will bring her back.”

“I know you will. Just … be careful, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

They ended the call, and he climbed out of his car, pressed the key fob, and the rear door swung up. He reached into the back, zipped open his duffle, and grabbed his tactical vest. He slipped it over his head and secured the Velcro straps. He loaded up his vest with extra magazines and whatever else he might need and checked both of his weapons.

The plan was to use two vehicles and drive them to a location not far from the trail—one for the snipers, the other for the team going in.

“Good to see you, Burke.” Cole, aka Wolf, strolled over and extended his hand. The nickname was given to him by his wife and suited him perfectly. He was a large,intimidating man, except when he was around his wife and baby boy.

Rifle bags slung over their shoulders, Calliope and Viking walked over and joined them.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming.” Jeffrey shook each of their hands.

“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Wolf said.

“I second that.” Viking adjusted the strap on his shoulder. His real name was Golden, but with his size and long, dark blond hair and beard, he looked like a true Viking.

“Ditto,” Calliope said.

At just over five feet tall, she truly was an anomaly in the spec ops realm. She looked like a perky cheerleader—pigtails and all—but had the second longest sniper kill on record after taking out a target at thirty-two hundred meters. She could also climb like a monkey—a handy skill for a sniper. She’d definitely earned her nickname, The Wraith.

They all moved away from the building, and Wolf and Viking stood on either side of Jeffrey, arms crossed, looking very serious. At six foot six and six foot eight, they were like giant, deadly bookends.

The sleek, black Citation Sovereign jet rolled to a smooth stop about thirty feet in front of them. Through the windshield, they could see Mason in the cockpit, flipping switches, then he removed his headset as the whineof the two powerful Pratt and Whitney engines began to fade.

The hatch doorway opened, and the steps swung down with ahissto settle on the blacktop. Andi appeared first, dressed in black from the sock hat covering her short hair to the boots on her feet. She already had her tactical vest on and loaded with extra magazines, a small brick of C4 explosives, some wires, flashlight, her backup weapon, and whatever else she might possibly need tucked into various pockets.

She jogged down the steps and, with her usual confident stride, walked straight over to Jeffrey and pulled him into a hard hug. At almost six feet tall, she was only a couple of inches shorter than him.

She was a true warrior raised by a mean father who never hid the fact he’d wanted a son. And he’d cruelly and inexplicably blamed Andi for her mother’s death during childbirth. As a result, she’d become emotionally aloof and had never been a fan of public displays of affection—until the O’Hallerans entered her life. They’d rubbed off on her in the best possible way.

“How ya holdin’ up?” Andi gave him a last, tight squeeze and stepped back.

“I’m good.”Was he, though?

“So, a daughter, huh?” Andi crossed her arms.

“Yep.” He tugged hisear.

“Not to be a dick or anything, but are you sure she’s yours?” Andi was extremely protective of the people she cared about. “I mean, can you really trust Maya?” She also wasn’t one to mince words.

“I’m sure.” And, yes, he really trusted Maya, and he was glad he’d gotten a chance to tell her before this op started.

Jeffrey slid the picture of Isla from his pocket and handed it to Andi. “She looks just like my mom did at that age.”

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