Page 36 of ELITE Justice
Phone in hand, he needed to reach out to her.
Glancing around the testosterone-filled SUV, he couldn’t call her. Texting was so damn impersonal, but he had to let her know.
Sorry I had to leave in the middle of that important conversation. We’ll talk about it when I get back. Love Jonathan.
There. He’d said it…kinda. Maybe she’d get the hint.
The line of Guardian SUVs split into different directions several blocks from the new compound. His team, designated as Bravo, was coming in from the south side through a hole in the fence. Each man had a solo job because all the targets needed to be taken out at the exact same time, preventing any one of the terrorists from warning the others.
When the vehicle came to a stop three blocks away, the metal-on-metal of checked receivers echoed in the vehicle. Jonathan, too, had automatically checked his weapon.
Good to go.
From the front seat, Griffin handed out the tiny communication devices. “Comm check. Bravo one to Ops Center. Do you read me?”
“Bravo one, Ops Center Dallas, read you five by five. Ready for verification.” Jonathan heard the exchange as he screwed the tiny bud into his ear.
“Bravo two, comm check,” he said in a quiet tone.
“Bravo two, verified.” Good. The Ops Center could hear him. Jonathan sat quietly as the remaining three men spoke to the Operations Center in the new, unfinished Guardian building. Alex and Quin had agreed the new offices already had better technology than the old office the company had purchased. Only experienced Guardian men were involved in this mission. The others inherited with the acquisition were on duty handling the usual calls, completely unaware of the government-sponsored operation.
“Alpha team connected,” the Ops Center announced. Thirty seconds later, “Charlie team connected. All teams, you have a go. I repeat you have a go.”
Jonathan opened the door and closed it quietly only to find Griffin looking down at him. “You got your head on straight?”
“Yes, sir.”
His former manager grinned. “I knew that bitch in Miami wasn’t the right one for you.” Two rows of white teeth gleamed in the night. “Gwen is awesome. She reminds me a lot of Grace; tough as nails and soft as satin. Hold on to her.” He pulled his black balaclava over his face so nothing but the whites of his eyes shone through. “Stay safe.”
“Right back at you.” Jonathan pulled down his own mask and night vision goggles. He threw on the ultralight camouflage netting system like a cape that would hide his heat signature. Last, he slung his rifle over his back. It was as though that action alone clicked him into predator mode. On silent feet, they crept through the deserted Dallas streets to the hole in the fence. Upon sneaking in, Bravo team separated.
Jonathan moved quietly to his designated area, aware of the nocturnal animals in the nighttime woods. To verify every sound, he’d flipped to thermal.
His job was to sit and wait until the terrorist sniper entered to take his spot, then assure that he never made it to his hide. It wouldn’t be the first time Jonathan had killed a man. Nor probably the last.
Earlier in the day, he’d selected a well-hidden spot that allowed maneuverability and the element of surprise. He backed into his hidey-hole, pulled the magical camouflage completely around him, moved his weapon to the ready, and settled in to wait.
Responding with two taps on his ear at the hourly comm check, Jonathan’s ass began to hurt. Slower than a snail, he moved his legs, his arms, his hands. He wiggled his toes inside his boots to keep the circulation pumping to them. Nothing could be more dangerous in an ambush than stepping onto feet that had fallen asleep and didn’t work.
“Operations Center reporting. The drone is picking up movement on the east and south sides. Five tangoes entering through the same fence holes as Bravo and Charlie.”
Jonathan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, controlling his heartbeat. He moved to the balls of his feet, ready to spring from his hiding place as soon as his target passed by…if he came to the tree ten feet in front of him. Several had been identified as possibilities, but they had no way of knowing for sure which ones the terrorists would use.
“Operations reporting movement on the west side; two tangoes just opened the gate and let themselves in.”
The second the woods went silent Jonathan knew someone was close. Low voices and rustling leaves signaled their direction of approach. Definitely not professionals. They made way too much noise in the woods. He could take out two men. Although he couldn’t understand the language they were speaking, he could see that they both carried long rifles.
He stopped five feet from where he was hidden deep in the brush, continuing to talk. Damn, he wished he understood what they were saying. Although they were speaking quietly, he hoped the Op Center was getting this.
They both lit cigarettes and continued chatting.
“Bravo two, operations center is recording. It’s an Arabic dialect but our translator is having difficulty with their accent. You’re still undiscovered. It sounds like they’re just shooting the shit, complaining about the long night ahead.”
Jonathan tapped his ear twice in confirmation.
When the cigarettes were burned to the butt, they stomped them out and kicked them away. With a few last words, the taller of the two headed toward another designated possible sniper hide…and Griffin.
“All teams hold. Tangoes to the west still moving.”
