Page 36 of The Angel and the Agent

“Not my first go-round, young Ethan,” Blue said, typing so quickly his fingers seemed in danger of flying off his hands.

“Here we go—private transport left an hour ago, and your boy was on it.”

Ethan blew out a breath, fighting a wave of nausea. Amelia was out of the country, officially out of his reach. Africa was a massive continent. The flight over the ocean could go wrong in a million different ways. What if…He shook his head. “Okay, I need to know everything you can get for me about their operation in CAR, especially a location.”

Blue tapped his fingers nervously on his desktop. “I’m going to have to, er, bump some satellites to redirect them. It’s not exactly legal, in the legal sense of the word legal. And I’d really rather not go back to prison, much as I love little Amelia.”

“Do it. I have someone paving the way with the House Intelligence Committee as we speak.”

“I’m more concerned about the Colonel. The man looks at my hair and tats like he wants to personally scrape them off with broken glass,” Blue said. He was a very round peg in a very square hole in the world of military intelligence.

“Ridge will handle the Colonel,” Ethan said confidently.

“OK, the paper trail for their organization is easy, since they’ve filed court documents. I have the location, if it’s legit, and now I’m moving a Russian satellite so we can get a look at the compound.”

“I don’t actually need you to narrate what you’re doing; do it,” Ethan said.

“Do you have any idea how difficult what I’m doing actually is, and how few people in the world can do it?” Blue asked.

“Absolutely, that’s why I’m here,” Ethan said.

“So long as we’re clear on that,” Blue said, appeased. He typed for a couple minutes before speaking again. “Here you go, your compound. The pictures are twenty four hours old, but unless it’s blown up between now and then, it should be a current view.”

Ethan stared at the grainy image. It was a shabby dwelling, a few rooms. “Print the coordinates for me. I’ve got to order a transport. I owe you big.”

“Get in line,” Blue said, turning on his printer.

An hour later, Ethan was over the ocean. Unlike Amelia, he would be flying a nonstop commercial flight into Ghana. Once there, he would take a private plane to the CAR. The plane had already been arranged, thanks to the Colonel. The man had contacts in every country, or so it seemed to anyone who knew him. But after that, Ethan would be on his own.

The flight would last ten and a half hours. Ethan forced himself to sleep, at least a few hours, but it was fitful at best. So much more could go wrong with this mission than could go right. The only thing in his favor at this point was that Amelia was being held for ransom. Piedmont Bonvoy had received the note before Ethan’s departure. They had two days before the trial restarted. It would take almost that long to get to her. If Amelia hadn’t called him, if Ethan hadn’t gotten a jump start on things, he would never get to her in time before the ultimatum was up. Knowing the Russians, they would keep her in good shape until the date on the note. After that, they would likely kill her or sell her. She was young, blond, and beautiful and would score a tremendous price on the human trafficking circuit.

Sleep.He cleared his mind, pushing away the thoughts of everything that could go wrong.This is what you do,he reminded himself.This is what you’ve been trained for.He would get her out and he would bring her home, safe and unharmed, because he wouldn’t allow for any other option.

With that resolution in mind, he closed his eyes and slept.

When they touched down in Ghana, his contact was waiting for him with a car that took him to another plane. The supplies had already been gathered, everything he would need whilehe was there, including night vision goggles, weapons, and a parachute.Bless you, Colonel,Ethan thought.

“You’re going to jump blind in the darkness of night,” the contact said. Ghana spoke English, thankfully. Ethan was a nightmare at languages.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Ethan said, though it would be the first time alone. He hadn’t jumped since he was a SEAL, and then he had jumped with his team. He was more nervous than he let on.

“Watch out for the hyenas,” the contact said, and Ethan didn’t know if he was joking. With effort, he resisted the urge to pull out his phone and Google whether or not hyenas ate people. Like most carnivores, they were probably looking for an easy target. He wouldn’t be one, unless he landed wrong and broke a leg and then, well, he’d face that catastrophe if it happened.

In seemingly no time, they were in the air and flying again for another four hours. Unlike the commercial flight, this one was choppy and nausea inducing. Ethan fought against it by eating power bars and downing water. He needed to stay fed and hydrated for the mission. After the jump, he would have to sprint three miles to town and then do whatever needed to be done once he reached the compound. Eating and drinking were necessary, despite how much his body rebelled.

“Circling the jump zone,” the pilot said, his pleasant accent ringing in Ethan’s headset. “Jump at your discretion. Weather’s clear; you have a fifteen minute window.”

Ethan stood and removed the headset and oxygen mask and then opened the heavy metal door, a task in and of itself. After a few deep breaths that didn’t feel deep because of the altitude, he opened his eyes and plunged into the inky blackness below, free falling for ninety seconds before he pulled the cord. On a normal day, it would have been fun. He loved to skydive. It had been one of his favorite parts of being in the navy. And even in the midstof his stress, the free fall worked to clear his mind, to ease his anxiety. While he was falling, cushioned only by air, he felt as if everything would be all right.

It was a perfect jump and an even better landing. No broken bones, no drag marks. He landed on his feet and removed the chute, tossing it aside. Someone would find it in the daylight and wonder what it had all been about, and then they would likely sell it for whatever cash it could bring.

He tightened the backpack and checked his compass, finding northeast, and then he ran, a flat out sprint that landed him three miles in eighteen minutes.What happened to the five-minute miles of my youth?He wondered as he bent double, sucking oxygen. When he could rightfully breathe again, he straightened, opened his pack, and put on his gear—Kevlar, helmet, goggles, guns and knives. When he was ready, he attached his watch, the one that had been programed with the compound’s GPS coordinates. It was a little over a mile away, and he wouldn’t run this time. Not only would it use precious energy, but his gear was too heavy and there was too much risk of being seen. As soon as his feet touched dirt in the Central African Republic, he ceased to exist. If he died while he was on this assignment, his parents would be told he’d been killed in a car accident. If he was caught, the official response would be, “Oops, sorry, we didn’t know. Do with him what you will.” As far as the US government was concerned, he was completely on his own, a lone wolf gone rogue, at least officially. Unofficially, they were bending the waters to ease his trip, doing everything they could to try and bring him and Amelia home safe again.

As he journeyed to his destination, he slid behind buildings, slipped between alleys, sidled by houses. For all intents and purposes, he was a ghost, helped along by the fact that the area in question lacked electricity almost completely.

When he reached the compound, he withdrew the thermal imager from his pack and held it aloft. There were five bodies inside. Two large ones in the front, two large ones in the back and one smaller, prone one in the middle. He hoped Amelia was merely sleeping and could be roused. If she were unconscious, he would have to carry her out, impeding their escape. He lowered the scanner and thought, trying to conjure a plan. On missions, Ridge had been the planner. Ethan was the go-ahead guy, the point man willing to insert himself gleefully into any situation, no matter how dangerous. Since becoming an agent, he’d had more practice at the thinking side of things, but it wasn’t his strong suit.

Should he take out all four guards and then retrieve her or take out two, get her, and then take the other two? If he tried to take out all four, one or more might have the chance to get to Amelia first, to use her as a shield or leverage. But if he took out two and then got her, he would have to take them out while she was with him, thereby scarring her for life.

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