Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Woodley

“ Why don’t you come along with us on this stakeout?” Conor asked Woodley as he and Gunner headed for the back door of the rental. “We could use an extra pair of eyes.”

“ Sure,” Woodley agreed. He needed to get out and clear his head. Things were changing too fast, and he needed a moment to step back and breathe.

He grabbed his jacket and followed Gunner and Conor to their heavily tinted older SUV parked out of sight out back of their rental. The drive to Mid-City from the Gentilly area took them close to the French Quarter through the Esplanade Ridge area. There wasn’t much to see so late in the evening, but the crowds were still out on the town enjoying the city. Woodley couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out for drinks without a care in the world or the need to drown out the memory of a particularly brutal case.

Had he ever not had something to worry about? |Were fears of discovery, past suffering, pain, or anger driving him to work harder? Of course, they affected every aspect of his messed-up life. Peace had always been hard for Woodley to come by.

Anything remotely close to contentment would be a luxury he couldn’t afford. His and Stryker’s boyfriend, John’s, life stories took the same course. Their fathers were test subjects in the Noah Project. Check. Spent their later years working together on a specialized task force attempting to shut down the Noah Group. Check. Both fathers killed by that group . Triple fucking check.

Now, that mission fell to him and this unconventional team from Fire Lake. A mission that would likely end with more than one ally paying the ultimate price to protect the world. It was unlikely many people would ever know what they’d gone through to protect them; it was much the same in many aspects of the military. The general population expected law, order, and safety but didn’t think too hard about how it was attained.

Woodley rolled his neck, trying to loosen the tight muscles, and began noticing the slight changes in the neighborhood as they got further away from the rental. There were fewer trees and more concrete buildings. Rougher roads, overflowing garbage bins, and flickering streetlights rounded out the growing picture of neglect.

“ We’re getting close to the bar,” Gunner announced from the driver’s seat. Woodley remembered them referring to the place as a dive bar, and that description fit in with the looks of their new surroundings.

Several older vehicles were parked on both sides of the streets leading to the bar. Their strategically borrowed older SUV, with its rust and darkened windows, wouldn’t stand out. Gunner pulled over and parked between a rusted-out Ford without plates on cinder blocks and a later-model Buick sedan with a missing headlight and dented passenger’s door.

Woodley had been on many stakeouts as a cop and detective, so he settled in the backseat for what would likely be a long night.

He’d never doubted his decision to stick around after John was rescued from the Noah Group’s clutches, and no one had ever called him out on it. Woodley admitted he was beginning to enjoy the camaraderie of this team—however long it might be, because no doubt once the mission was done, this partnership would end. Much like his relationship with Harris.

For now, he’d enjoy the luxury of allowing his real self out, mutations and all. Here, there was no need to hide. They all knew the truth and lived with their scars openly. He’d never have thought it was possible, but Fire Lake had proven to be a haven for those desperate for shelter from the coming storms and the endless fear. How a retired team of Navy SEALs accomplished what seemed more like a miracle in a matter of a few short years would remain a mystery for which many survivors would be thankful.

“ Looks the same as it always does,” Conor said. “Dark, dingy, and dangerous.”

The bar was little more than a gloomy, worn, nondescript door with boarded over windows on either side. There’d be no peering through these windows, as was surely intended by the owners. They might as well put a sign on the door that stated, “Go Away.”

“ How positive are we about this place?” Woodley had to ask. It didn’t look like much, but looks could be deceiving. They knew that better than most.

“ Spencer’s information is typically spot-on,” Gunner said. “He’s not in the habit of making mistakes. He confirmed it was a recently relocated division of the Noah Group originally from California.”

“ Got it. Have we been able to get a look inside?” Woodley asked. It would help to get a lay of the land.

Conor pulled a small monitor from the glove box and held it between the front bucket seats. He adjusted a few knobs and flicked a switch on the side.

“ We had an associate stumble in for a drink with a group of partiers weeks ago,” Conor explained. “He left a few items behind.”

The screen came to life. It was a bit grainy at first, but it soon cleared to provide a black-and-white picture of the inside of what he assumed was the bar. It appeared as if the transmitter was located in the corner of the room facing the bar top, along with two pool tables and a few sets of tables and chairs. A handful of people mingled around the pool tables, shooting a game; three men sat at the bar, and a couple sat at one of the tables.

Woodley could see what he believed was the front door in the distance and a swinging door he thought might lead to a kitchen or backroom. What I’d give to have a look back there. By the size of the front bar area, a large portion of the remaining building appeared to be hidden from view. That was where Harris would come in, getting a look behind the scenes when he was captured, something which still rankled Woodley.

“ Our associate was able to place two transmitters,” Conor explained. “The one we’re seeing is near the old jukebox, and the second is on a ledge in the hallway leading to the bathrooms.”

“ He did a great job,” Woodley said. “At least now we can ID some regulars and the owners.”

“ Yeah, Spencer’s already got a handful of names from these two cameras alone. They’ve paid off,” Gunner said.

Woodley watched as customers came and went, with multiple criminal offenses taking place out in the wide open. Drug deals, prostitution, weapons offenses, and gambling. It was a cornucopia of sin and indulgence. His life enforcing the law urged him to do something, but his common sense won. They were here for a larger purpose than busting a few lowlifes.

“ The bartender goes by the name Jaws. His real name is Frank Spelt from Anaheim, California,” Gunner explained.

Woodley watched the tall, slender man pour another draft beer and hand it off to a man who could barely stand for being drunk. Overserving and cleanliness didn’t appear to be a concern here. However, when the bartender opened his mouth to speak, Woodley discovered the real reason for his nickname. His teeth were covered in silver metal, and the light from the overhead lighting reflected off them, giving the guy a predatory appearance.

“ Charming,” Conor chuckled. “Bet it’s a bitch getting through airport security with those chompers.”

“ Hell, does he go to the dentist or a blacksmith?” Woodley laughed.

Gunner’s chuckle was cut short when he homed in on someone coming down the sidewalk. He went on alert, as did Conor.

“ Hey, isn’t that the Joe guy from the bar back at the hotel?” Gunner asked.

Woodley and Conor concentrated on where Gunner was staring.

“ Shit. It’s him,” Woodley agreed. “No doubt, coming to report in.”

“ I’ll get the boss on the line,” Conor said as he pulled out his cell phone.

“ Well, well, well. Looks like the chickens come home to roost,” Gunner said.

“ More like a snake slithering back to its hole,” Woodley commented, causing Conor and Gunner to laugh.

“ Don’t like the guy moving in on your territory, dude,” Gunner said.

“ He’s part of the Noah Group,” Woodley shot back. Besides, the guy didn’t have a chance to pick up Harris. He’d had zero game.

“ Sure, sure. That’s all it is,” Gunner agreed in amusement.

Seeing the big sniper wearing a grin was odd, and Woodley decided not to bother arguing. Let him have the win.

Conor hung up his call just as Joe opened the door to the bar and walked inside. They watched his progress on the monitor. Joe nodded at the bartender on his way past the bar top and headed through to the hallway, but instead of entering the men’s restroom as they’d expected, he stopped in front of a brick wall at the end of the hall, looked around, and pushed on one of the bricks.

All three men gasped when a portion of the brick wall slid aside, and Joe bent over and walked through the opening before it closed again and disappeared seamlessly into the background.

“ Holy shit,” Woodley huffed. “That’s some serious spy shit.”

“ A bolt-hole,” Gunner said. “We need to get our eyes back there.”

“ Agreed,” Conor said. “By the way, the guy was scared.”

“ Joe was scared?” Woodley asked.

“ Yes, the moment he walked into the bar, it spiked. Like he was dreading going in.”

“ I wonder if that’s because he failed to bring back his prisoner,” Woodley said, the word “prisoner” raw in his throat.

“ Likely,” Conor agreed. “He has to answer to someone.”

“ I’d like to know who that someone is,” Gunner said.

“ Me too.”

“ Look,” Gunner said.

All three directed their attention to the screen and watched as the wall reopened, and Joe, followed by two more men, emerged into the hallway. None acknowledged the bartender as they walked by, out the front door, and onto the sidewalk. All three headed to an old van parked down the street with the name Fether’s Electrical painted along the side. Likely another cover business for the Noah Group.

“ Should we follow them?” Woodley asked. All his instincts said they should.

“ Definitely,” Gunner stated as he reached for the key.

He started the truck and put it into drive. They stayed well back from the van but never let it out of their sight. The way the guy was driving showed he was agitated. He swerved in and out of traffic, changing speeds and cutting other vehicles off. They’d get pulled over before reaching their destination if they weren't careful. More than likely, in the wee hours of the morning, the cops had bigger issues to deal with in a town known for its party-hearty atmosphere.

“ If we get a chance, I’d like to place a tracker on the van,” Conor said. “Learning where else they go besides the bar would be helpful.”

The van continued east, and when they entered a familiar area, all three knew where they were going.

Woodley asked. “Get the feeling we’re headed back to the hotel?”

“ Yes. Get Brick on the line and have him turn on the video feed from the truck,” Gunner said. “The shit is about to hit the fan.”

Conor pressed a button on his phone and put the call on speaker.

“ Whatcha got?” Brick asked. As usual, ready for any eventuality and getting down to business.

“ Company,” Conor said. “We’re following Joe and two other men from the dive bar, and it appears they’re headed back toward the hotel. We have video up.”

“ Got it. I'm bringing up the screen now,” Brick said, and Woodley could hear rustling in the background over the phone.

“ Do you think they’d try to kidnap Harris with all four of you in that suite?” Woodley asked. “That’s insane.”

“ You never know when it comes to this group,” Brick answered.

“ Or they could wait to find Harris alone,” Conor said. “Either way, they’re here for a reason.”

Woodley had to agree. Sometimes, the Noah Group seemed to be flying by the seat of their pants, making things up as they went along. That’s what happened when a group splintered and there was no clear leader. Until one person was strong enough to regain control, nothing would remain constant across the board regarding game plans. The only thing that seemed to be a priority was recovering assets, survivors to be used as weapons.

“ Okay, we have the video link up. Is it the white delivery van?” Brick asked.

“ That’s the one,” Gunner answered.

They turned right and were only six blocks away from the hotel. Every passing second brought them closer back to Harris, and Woodley’s gut churned. This was what the team wanted, for Harris to get a look at the inner workings of this group, but that still didn’t mean he had to like it.

They were within two blocks now, no longer doubting where the van was headed. When they got to the same block as the hotel, the van pulled over onto a small side street while Gunner continued to drive by, not wanting to alert them to their tail.

“ We’ll go to the west side parking lot and find a spot with a view,” Gunner explained as he maneuvered the SUV into a nearby lot.

“ They’re staying in the van for now,” Woodley said as he turned to watch them while Gunner parked

Once stationary, they adjusted the video feed to zoom in on the van to get a closer look and waited for the goons to make a move.

“ Should we send Harris out for a midnight run?” Conor asked after thirty minutes of inactivity.

“ Perhaps it might speed things along,” Gunner agreed.

“ Has anyone identified the other guy from the bar earlier?” Woodley asked, not wanting to consider what would happen if Harris took a midnight stroll.

“ Still working on it,” Spencer stated. “Right now, he’s a ghost on all levels. However, this Joe character is Antonio Spregga from Newport Beach, California. He attended Concordia University and graduated with a bachelor’s degree in journalism. After that, he worked as a freelancer for various newspapers and magazines. Obtaining information on Antonio was easy enough compared to the giant.”

“ We haven’t spotted the big guy since, but I have a feeling it isn’t the last time he’ll be around,” Conor said.

“ I wonder how a journalist got tangled up with the Noah Group?” Woodley asked.

“ How does anyone?”

“ Touche.”

The streams of people enjoying a night on the town began to thin as the hours wore on, and he wondered if they would try anything or simply give up and leave.

“ We’re going to try something,” Brick announced from the speaker. “Eyes on Harris as he exits.”

Woodley hadn’t expected that announcement and wasn’t sure he would like this, but he had little say in the matter.

***

Harris

The elevator doors opened, and Harris stepped into the lobby dressed in his joggers. He gave a quick look around, noticing it was completely empty other than the guy behind the check-in desk, who nodded at him in greeting.

With a quick nod in return, he walked straight to the front doors. Time to take a run. Either this worked, and they attempted to kidnap him while he was on his own, or he’d have to think of something else. It shouldn’t have been this hard to get abducted as a Noah survivor, but here they were.

I don’t like this, Jennifer said through their link.

What else is new, Harris teased back to his sister.

Just be careful, butthead or nothing will stop us from tearing this city apart.

I’m sure you and the team will come get me if I need you.

I wasn’t talking about the team. Me and Woodley ain’t afraid of setting a few fires in the right places to get our point across.

The muggy nighttime air swallowed him as he stepped outside onto the empty sidewalk. He didn’t bother looking left. He knew the van was sitting there in wait, so he made a show of trying to decide which way to go and decided on left. He stretched out his arms and legs in a show of preparing for a run. After rolling his shoulders, he re-tied his shoes, giving them the perfect opportunity to do a grab-and-dash. If they didn’t take the bait this time, Harris wasn’t sure what he’d have to do other than throw himself in front of their damn van.

He could feel everyone watching him, friend and foe, as Woodley, Gunner, and Conor were also out there keeping track of him. He knew his lover was likely cursing him at that moment, but he had to do what needed to be done. He had to get on the inside so they could shut them down before they could do any serious damage, and if they managed to get more information on other cells located across the country, that would be a bonus.

The van is on the move, Jennifer said, transferring messages from the team to him through their link.

Got it. He could feel his pulse accelerating as he started a slow jog; at the same time his adrenaline spiked. He felt the change in the air and knew the action was about to start.

Harris prepared himself for the squealing tires, the rough grab and shove into the back of the van. It was a strange situation knowing you were about to be abducted and not only preparing for it but wanting it.

Woodley was right. This was fucked up.

He heard an engine roar and tires squeal as his gut clenched in anticipation, but then he heard the unmistakable crunch of metal and a horn blaring as vehicles collided. Harris spun around to see a late-model Ford sedan’s passenger door now molded to the van’s front bumper. Moments later, the van hit reverse, sheering its bumper off before swinging around and taking off down the street.

What the fuck was going on? Hell of a time for a fender bender. The roads had been empty, so where did the Ford come from? People began to converge on the scene as the driver of the sedan opened his door, and the moment he stepped out, Harris knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

What the hell was the giant doing here? Did he show up to save him? Or was he part of another group that was after them? Too many players were on the field to get a clear feel for what would be the next move.

Brick, Shaw, and Fletcher came running out of the hotel, and he knew not to expect Woodley, Gunner, and Conor because they weren’t supposed to be in town, so they’d stay in their vehicle and watch from a distance.

“ Stay on alert,” Brick ordered as the team joined him on the sidewalk. “We don’t know what this guy wants.”

Harris didn’t miss the slight bulge from guns under the team’s clothing. They were prepared for any eventuality. The stranger’s long stride was eating up ground fast as he headed their way, and the team immediately fanned out into defensive positions. It was so subtle, but Harris believed the guy noticed the maneuver because he casually lifted his shirt to show he wasn’t armed.

Military or law enforcement, for sure. He was a few feet away before he stopped.

“ It would be best if you weren’t running around alone,” he stated. His voice was gruff and deep. “Our kind never should.”

Brick took a few steps forward, and Harris could feel the alphas squaring off. No one who wanted to walk away unscathed would want to get between the two at that moment.

“ Who the fuck are you?” Brick growled, getting straight to the point. Why waste time?

“ Name’s Apollo.”

“ That supposed to mean something to us?”

“ Your team helped my little sister a few years back.”

“ Who’s your sister?”

“ Ellen Hammon,” Apollo said before offering his hand to Brick. “I owe your team and a man named Rick a debt I cannot repay for protecting her and getting her to safety.”

With a shrewd look, Brick took his offered hand and shook it. “You’re the missing brother. The one they said died at birth.”

“ Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.”

Harris could have been knocked over by a stiff wind as the shock set in. The Hammon kidnapping case was the team’s first brush with the Noah Group and their genetics project. Spence and Rick had led that case involving Commander Rask, a man from Spence’s past. The case ended with a pile of bodies and a new mission for the Fire Lake team.

“ How are Ellen and Rosaline?” Brick asked.

“ Alive and safe, thanks to you and your men, but to put it frankly, shouldn’t you guys know better than to have this guy wandering around like this even if the two of you have a hate for each other? Those guys in the van were about to abduct him,” Apollo said while looking between Brick and Harris.

“ That was the plan, asshole,” Harris said, unable to remain silent any longer. “And you just screwed that up.”

“ What?” Apollo stared around at them. “What kind of a fucking plan is that?”

***

Woodley

“ Did I hear him right?” Woodley said as he reached for the door handle. “He’s trying to help us?”

“ Stay put,” Gunner growled. “You’ll blow our cover.”

“ Shit. He’s a project survivor, Ellen’s brother,” Conor said. “That must be why I couldn’t get a read on him. Apollo’s mutation must be able to block me from accessing his mind.”

“ I wonder if that’s why he’s such a big fucker?” Gunner asked.

“ Likely has something to do with it,” Woodley agreed. “This staying out of sight sucks.”

“ Figured you’d be used to it, being a cop and all,” Gunner said.

“ Yeah, I am, but this is different.”

“’ Cause someone you care about is in the line of fire,” Conor said.

Harris and the team walked back into the hotel as the police arrived. They didn’t want to be involved in this hit-and-run, leaving Apollo to deal with them.

“ Okay, guess we head back to the rental to figure out our next step,” Woodley said once Harris was out of sight. “This plan is officially a bust. We’ll need a new one.”

“ Agreed,” Gunner said.