Page 27 of Red Line

Nomad was looking forward to the jump every bit as much as Rory was. Nomad’s place of peace was floating through the night sky. His favorite kind of jump was the HAHO. It gave him the longest drift of all the jumps.

It was only under extreme circumstances that he got the opportunity to enjoy his time in the sky. Such is life.

The HAHO was chosen when they needed covert insertions. And if a mission needed minimal detection from those on the ground, this qualified.

The pilot called out the two-minute mark.

The back of the plane yawned open.

The brothers lined up.

After the team checked each other’s equipment and gave a thumbs up, the jump master signaled them forward.

Ty was out the door with Rory dangling from his front harness.

This was it. The mission was in motion.

Nomad stepped up and jumped out.

Now, to meet the objective without starting World War III.

Chapter Nine

Black

Black had asked Nutsbe for a SCIF and was following behind an escort taking him to a room with a secure line. They walked down the hall past men and women in charcoal grey uniforms, looking efficient and well-regulated. That was trained into them on Uncle Sam’s dime. Iniquus was a veteran-owned and veteran-staffed business model.

Black’s mind raced with the information that Sophia handed him.

Red’s assets were stepping up, once again proving to Black that he’d made an excellent choice when he took Red onto his team even though his colleagues had scoffed at having a woman working in the field, especially in that part of the world. He’d taken the blowback. Fine with him. She had proven herself time and again. Just look, her net trapped two dangerous terrorist events unfolding in real-time.

Forty million euros—about the same in U.S. dollars—in the hands of a terrorist organizer could buy a hell of a lot of people’s loyalties and the means to create destruction, be it cyberwar or something kinetic. Terrorism was a game of whack-a-mole. It had been from the beginning of history, and it would be until the extinction of humanity.

Right now, he had two pressing questions. Did Elena go after the ring for the money to retire, or did she do it to fund her work in terrorism? If this money wasn’t going to a house on the beach with a server bringing her cocktails as she lay on the sand and was indeed about funding terror, would she tuck themoney away and begin her plan? Or was Elena planning to use this windfall to fund something she already had underway?

Black tested each of those possibilities, seeing how they settled into his system. If he were a betting man, he’d say the teeth had already taken a bite of the fruit.

The first thing he needed to do was bring Color Code into play.

***

Sitting in the SCIF, Black watched Grey’s image open over the video feed.

Grey lifted his chin by way of hello and jumped right in. “Hey, good, I was about to call you about Red.”

“I tried to get her on the feed. She’s not answering,” Black said.

“Did you hear about the explosion?” Grey was dressed in a suit, which was highly unusual. It looked like he was sitting in a basement somewhere.

“This is about the Poole capture?” Black asked. “Did we lose him?”

“No, it’s about Red herself. I got word that a car bomb detonated in front of a government building that housed both the court and official records offices. Most of the damage was to the hotel next door where Red met with her asset.”

“Government building? Are they sure the hotel wasn’t the target?” Black leaned back in the captain’s chair, laced his fingers, and rested them on his chest.

“My understanding was that someone called in with a threat. The reporting suggests it was an assassination attempt on the judges.”

Black scowled. “What’s Red saying about this?”

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