This time, they had deliberately avoided using Alexa’s handle of Martini One and relied on voice recognition. She was concerned Father Ignatius and his Echelon program might key off that name, triggering unwanted attention on the transmission. Their communication would still be searched by Echelon for keywords, but using different coded phrases would buy them time and stall outside interference. Garrett informed her they’d traced the tracking beacon to a local residence in Baracoa. As he gave her the address and a general description of the area, Alexa envisioned another compound similar to Jamal Ghazi’s place.
How could Sayed escape in a helicopter, only to be tracked back in town hours later? She didn’t like it, but she had to check it out.
“I’ll update you when I can.” When Alexa ended the call, she fixed her gaze on Kate, who looked miserable with worry. “We’ve got a fix on Jackson. Keep praying, Sister. We could use the help.”
Alexa rounded up Hank, Jessie, and others who volunteered to go. They loaded an SUV with weapons and gear. She expected another firefight like they’d encountered at the estate of the arms dealer, but in her gut she feared the worst. For the signal to be coming from a local residence made no sense, not when she’d seen Kinkaid taken away in a helicopter by a crazed terrorist.
If he’d been separated from his tracking beacon, Alexa had a bad feeling they’d never find him. And she had no idea how she’d live with that.
Dawn
A dark silhouette of rolling hills masked the edge of sunrise, and fire tinged a bank of clouds with a hint of the world awakening. The early-morning hour would work in Alexa’s favor, but only marginally. Dressed in camo with full assault gear, her team would have to execute their breach quietly and without a shot fired. If they failed and drew attention to their raid, the local cops might shoot first and ask questions later.
Alexa hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Unlike Jamal Ghazi’s estate, the residence where they’d traced Kinkaid’s signal was more of a ranch on the edge of town, without armed guards patrolling the grounds. A dirt road led through an open stone archway and up to a hacienda surrounded by barbed wire and pastures with cattle. Two cars were parked in front. The picturesque setting left her even more confused as to why Kinkaid’s signal would be coming from there.
Using scrub brush for cover, they crouched low and moved along the fence line, making their way closer to the main house. She had a scout and a flanker working ahead of her team. When she got close to the residence, she used hand signals to communicate her order to stop as Manny and Booker returned.
“One man in the kitchen. He’s making coffee,” Manny whispered. “And there’s an open window in back. A man and a woman are sleeping, but I heard a strange beep…like some kind of machine. I never saw it.”
“Could the beep come from a security system?” she asked.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen security work like that.”
“What else?”
“There’s a back porch with entry into the house and windows off this side.” Manny motioned with his hand. “We’ll have to watch those. Someone could slip through. No upstairs and no lower level.”
“What’s your read?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“This looks like a private home, and there’s one guy awake,” her scout said. “Closest neighbor won’t be a problem unless there’s gunplay. I say we hit ’em hard and fast in front with a ‘bang and clear.’ Another team sneaks in the back. No explosives. No weapons unless we have no choice.” Manny’s flanker, Adam Booker, nodded in agreement.
Alexa gave her order to split up. Hank led his men toward the rear of the main house. Manny and Booker got positioned to maintain surveillance on the side windows, leaving Alexa and Jessie and two others to hit the front door. Walker would execute the breach, and Winslow would be first through the door.
Alexa crept toward the front, careful not to cast a shadow across a window. She stood with her back near the doorjamb and gripped her weapon. Jessie scrambled to the other side of the door with her assault rifle ready and her eyes fixed on Alexa.
Walker hustled toward Jessie, holding a tactical Ram breaching tool in both hands. He swung the heavy black cylinder backward, then shoved it hard against the door lock. On impact, wood splintered with a loud crack. When the door blasted open, Winslow rushed through it with weapon drawn. In a bang-and-clear operation, the team followed in stacked formation and swept through the front half of the private residence. They cleared rooms and looked to subdue anyone inside the house.
The man her scout had seen in the kitchen would have heard their entry. Alexa knew he’d be their priority. With the kitchen dead ahead, she noticed there were two ways into the room. She signaled for her team to split up.
Expecting trouble, Alexa entered the room with her assault rifle aimed. Walker was close behind her. When she saw a man at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee, she narrowed her eyes but didn’t lower her weapon.
“Good morning,” he said, and raised his coffee cup.
Jessie and Winslow eased into the room, not saying a word. They waited for Alexa to confront the man. But before she could, Hank joined them. He had a man and a woman with him. His prisoners were dressed in pajamas and looked as if he’d rousted them from bed.
“The rest of the house is clear. Found these two in a rear bedroom,” Hank told her as his men herded their captives toward the living room. “But you gotta see this.”
When she cocked her head in question, Hank insisted, “Come on.”
“Put him with the rest,” she ordered, and nudged her head toward the man drinking coffee in the kitchen. Alexa lowered her weapon and followed Hank down a hallway toward the back of the house.
When she got to the end of the hall, Hank swung open a door and she looked inside. A lump wedged in her throat, and fear gripped her belly.
Jackson Kinkaid lay unconscious on a bed, surrounded by hospital equipment. He was hooked to a heart monitor—the beeping sound Manny had heard earlier—and had an IV in his arm. A bag of clear liquid hung by his bed. And a fresh bandage covered his wound.
He looked as pale as the gauze wrap. She’d never seen him so sick.
“We can still search the grounds, looking for evidence Sayed was here, but I doubt we’ll find anything. That bastard never would have left him like this,” Hank said in a hushed tone. After a moment of awkward silence, he added, “You want a minute?”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks, Hank.”
“Sure.” He left her alone with Kinkaid.
Alexa stepped into the bedroom that had been turned into a makeshift hospital. She stood by his bed and laid a hand on his bare chest, watching and feeling him breathe. He didn’t wake.
His breathing was rapid and shallow. And his skin was hot from the fever he hadn’t shaken. Someone had cleaned him up, but perspiration beaded on his forehead and chest.
“Jackson?” she whispered his name, but he didn’t move. “Oh, God. What’s happening?”
He had a bruise on his stomach where Ghazi had struck him with his rifle. And she saw stitches on his forehead. She had no idea how he’d gotten those, but she had a good notion that Sayed had something to do with it. For all he’d been through, he was finally getting the care he needed.
As he slept, she saw the child he must have been. Despite the fever, his face was at peace, and his inherent sadness had vanished. Gone was the stern-faced man with the defiant green eyes who had become adept at hoarding his secrets.
Lying here, he was vulnerable.
She brushed a strand of his dark hair off his forehead and stroked his cheek, taking advantage of the fact he wasn’t aware she was doing it. Kinkaid wasn’t the kind of guy who appreciated coddling, but in the past there were many times she’d resisted the urge to show the tenderness she felt for him.
“You better not die on me, Jackson.”
He was battling the infection now. And whatever damage had poisoned his system, it could spread to other organs and do more harm. He had known the risks and took a chance anyway—to save Kate’s life. But she found it hard in hindsight to accept his choice now, especially if it meant she might lose him.
