Page 16 of ELITE Protection
Phone in hand, Isaac grabbed the long underwear he knew he would need and hurried to Hannah’s open door, calling her name. Her eyes blinked several times as she focused on him. He barked out urgent orders which she seemed to accept, leaving the bed and quickly dressing warmly.
Turning back to his own room, Isaac demanded, “Sit rep.” Secretly he hoped the situational report was not as bad as he had feared.
He was wrong.
“Satellite surveillance shows two heat signatures sitting in an SUV five hundred feet down the street.” That wasn’t good news, but the man back in Atlanta didn’t stop there. “Second SUV with two people in the front seats located one hundred fifty feet to the east. Two tangos approaching very slowly from the back.”
“Fuck.” Isaac slid into his cold-weather clothes. Since he never unpacked, he grabbed his bag in his free hand and headed across the hall, hoping Hannah had at least found some clothes to wear. He’d dress her himself if he had to.
“Confirming, your count is six tangos.”
“Count is correct,” the ops center attendant replied.
Hannah stepped into the hall at the same time he did. She was dressed all in white with a ski mask covering her gorgeous long, dark hair. She held a pistol in her right hand, a large duffel in her left, and had a sniper rifle slung down her back.
Who the fuck was this woman? He had never known a female to get ready so fast, but he’d never known one whose life depended on dressing in seconds.
Six? She mouthed.
He nodded.
She went to the natural wood fireplace and grabbed some ashes, smearing her pristine clothes with shades of gray and black.
Camouflage. A damn good idea.Isaac looked at his black pants and black turtleneck. He selected white ashes and started making splotches all over his clothes.
“My SUV is parked a block away, out the back,” Hannah handed Isaac the burned end of a log and turned her back to him.
“We’ll have to get past the two guys in the backyard.” Not needing further instruction, he made squiggly lines and broad swaths of black, breaking up the white of her outline.
“No problem, as long as you can quietly take out your guy.” Hannah turned around to face him for a second then shoved his shoulders so she could apply white dust to his back.
She smacked his ass. “You’re good to go.”
Moving like a ball in a pinball game, darting around the dark living room, he watched Hannah collect weapons from the couch, stuffed down the sides of chairs, strapped underneath the dining table, and behind the kickboard under kitchen cabinets.
Holy hell. She’d been prepared for an all-out attack. Thank God. Most of his larger weapons were still in the back of his SUV.
“When were you going to tell me about all that?” Isaac asked as she strode toward him. “Your arsenal would’ve been good to know about earlier, too.”
She walked past him and headed toward the stairs to the basement. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. I thought I might need to use them against you.”
Isaac wanted to grin. “So, you trust me now?”
“Looks like it,” was her only confirmation as she disappeared down the stairwell.
They kept to the shadows on the far side of the recreation room, away from the moonlight shining through the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard. Isaac about had a heart attack when Hannah stopped in the small downstairs kitchen. She opened the freezer and pulled out yet another gun and two magazines.
She reached underneath the breakfast counter. “How are you fixed for weapons?” She pulled out an Uzi mini submachine gun. “Do you want to take this one?”
“Never turn down a weapon,”the senior chief had once said during tactical training. Reaching for it, Isaac checked the chamber. Of course, it was loaded. He made sure the safety was on and shoved it into the side pocket of his bag.
In the equipment room, they grabbed their backcountry packs. Isaac was thankful he listened to the little voice in his head when he also brought in his boots and telemark skis the night before. He’d wanted to check the fit of the new skins and give them one more coat of wax.
On his knees, he reached into the small bag he’d brought from Guardian Security and pulled out two small boxes. “This is for you.”
Hannah glanced over her shoulder at the small dark case in his hand. “I hope that’s a communications unit and not an engagement ring.”
He was glad she used humor to relieve the stress of the situation. His SEAL team often exchanged crude jokes just before stepping into danger.
