Chapter 21 Penetration

Chapter 21

Penetration

Shawn and I made our reentry, and it was only slightly less uncomfortable than that of the space shuttle returning from orbit. Every eye in the house locked on us, and it was obvious they were placing wagers on whether we were going to explode in a spectacular fireball or touch down and gently roll to an uneventful stop at our very own Cape Canaveral. My money was on something in between.

I tried to ignore the bevy of questions floating around the room, but the more I wanted to change the unspoken subject, the more I wanted to stare it into submission. So, I said, “I apologize for the sidebar, but Shawn was absolutely right. I was looking at things from a bit of a skewed perspective, and you deserve better from me.”

I paused to down a swallow of water and the sting of extemporaneity of my next sentence. “I was thinking about this mission from my heels rather than my toes. We may not be rolling up a premier assassin or maniacal zealot, but we’re dealing with a character who’s motivated by the oldest and one of the strongest pursuits of mankind…greed.”

I let the revelation hang in the air for a moment before saying, “He’ll fight to hold on to his god just as fiercely—”

Shawn interrupted. “You can stop, Chase.”

He turned from me to face his brothers- and sister-in-arms. “What he’s doing is noble but unnecessary. He’s right. Barbour will fight to hold onto what he holds most dear, but that’s not what our conversation was about. Just like all of you, I’ve seen, experienced, and done things we don’t talk about. The talk Chase and I just had was about one of those things, and I’m sorry for not being brave enough to bring it straight to all of you.”

Curiosity on the faces of my team turned to concern as Shawn continued. “Most people live in a world of boundaries. There’s one particular area in my life in which I have no such limits. Please don’t take this as ego on my part. It’s hardly that. It’s far more confession than swagger. I’m one of the world’s most effective extreme interrogators. I can’t sit in a boardroom and negotiate a deal, but in a dark hole, face-to-face with evil, I’ll tear the soul out of a man’s body to get the intel I need, and I won’t let anything—and I truly mean anything—stop me from getting what I need. What happens inside us when we’re forced to erase the line between our own humanity and the demons we have to exorcise is a switch that can never be un-flipped. I needed my team leader to know what I’m capable of doing when human lives lay in the balance.”

Singer laid his arm across Shawn’s shoulders. “We’ve all got our crosses, and none of them is light, but together, we can carry them all.”

Suddenly, I was ashamed of the pitiful excuse I tried to hang in front of my team, but I had done it to protect our newest brother. The lesson I learned in that moment was that we don’t need protection from people who truly know, love, and understand us. That is the essence of family.

Mongo pretended to check his watch. “We’re burning daylight.”

I was thankful for the redirection and said, “You’re right, big man. Anyone else have anything to add to the night’s adventure?”

Gator grimaced. “I’m sorry for asking, but how about the rules of engagement if things go south in there?”

“Never be sorry for questions like that,” I said. “I should’ve covered it. The ROE are simple for this one. Press forward to our target with minimal required force. Do not start a gunfight, but more importantly, don’t lose a gunfight if somebody else starts one. I’m not expecting any armed resistance. There’s no evidence of any human security measures. It’s a soft target by any metric.”

Gator nodded, and I said, “Anybody else?”

No one spoke up, and no one wore a look of concern, so I closed the briefing. “Get some rest and calories in your bodies. We’ll hit the ground running an hour after sunset.”

The team dispersed, but I kept Skipper on the line. “What have you accomplished on the Caravan back in Houma?”

She said, “I sent you an email, but I guess you’ve been busy. First, I need to know if you want to file an insurance claim. If you do, we’ll need a police report.”

“I’d rather leave the cops out of it. Can we get the Board to pay for it?”

“If we were on an officially sanctioned mission, I’m sure they’d cover it, but we’re out on a limb on this one.”

“Ouch,” I said. “I guess we’ll have to eat it.”

“Okay. Twenty-four-hour security is on-site now, and Cotton will be there tomorrow. He says he can carry most of the parts and tools he’ll need in one trip, but depending on how significant the damage is, he may need to make more trips.”

“Tell him he’s got a blank check. We’ll cover whatever he needs and double his hourly rate. We need that plane.”

“Yeah, I already told him all of that. I like it when our heads are in the same place. Do you want to ferry it to Wichita, or should he arrange that?”

“Have him take care of it if it isn’t too much trouble. One of us can fly it up there when this is over if it’s absolutely necessary.”

“I’ll pass it along,” she said.

I stepped back onto the deck to continue the talk. “Are you doing okay?”

“As long as I’m working, I’m good. It’s those hours when I try to close my eyes and sleep that kick my butt.”

“I get it,” I said. “We’re going to take care of that very soon. Don’t overdo it. We shouldn’t need too much support on this one. It’s pretty cut-and-dried.”

“Chase Fulton!” Skipper said. “You know better than to say something like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but—”

“But nothing. You keep your head in the game. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mother.”

I could almost see her smile. “I’ll mother you. Seriously, Chase. Be careful. I can’t go through it again.”

“I promise. I have to run. I’ll let you know when we get underway tonight.”

Based on the snores echoing through the house, I was the only one who couldn’t drift off, so I lay on my bed playing through every possible scenario the night might bring. Every scene ended the same way, and for the first time in months, I felt like I was on top of my game and my ducks were lining themselves into a perfect row. Perhaps I slept for moments at a time, but my mind did very little resting in the two hours I spent horizontally.

An hour before sunset, I dropped Singer off at the spot he chose to begin his slow, methodical trek to his overwatch position atop the barn. While I was depositing our sniper into position, Disco pulled the camo netting from the blades of the Huey and moved the bird into position.

As I arrived back at the house, the sun slipped from the western sky, and like the predators of the night they were, my team came alive, seemingly fueled by the absence of the sun’s glow. The lighthearted personalities who’d walked out of the afternoon’s meeting were transformed into the hearts of warriors, and no matter how great our advantage would be in the coming night, every eye carried the look of determination and refusal to fail.

We donned our gear, stuck our com radios into their assigned pockets and opened the channel with the combat information center back aboard the ship.

“CIC, Sierra One. Radio check.”

Skipper answered. “Loud and clear. How me?”

We continued down the line of operators until every radio was confirmed to be functioning perfectly.

We positioned Mongo and vehicle number one in a location from which the house was visible, but the SUV was not. Anya’s position was a bit more precarious, but we managed to get the Suburban far enough off the road that it wouldn’t be a glaring sign of a tactical operation underway only a few hundred yards to the south.

Just before ten thirty, Singer said, “Sierra Six is in position, and there’s motion at the front gate.”

I twisted in my seat, but I couldn’t get a clear line of sight to the gate. “Roger, Six. We’re blind to the gate, so report further movement.”

“Roger.”

A few seconds later, he said, “It’s a vehicle in the drive and approaching the house.”

“Can you see passengers?” I asked.

“Negative, and I’ll be blind in a few seconds when the vehicle moves closer to the house.”

“I’ve got a garage light,” Mongo said.

“I’ve got it, too,” Singer confirmed.

I said, “Get ready to move. I want to make our initial egress while they’re moving from the vehicle and into the house.”

“Vehicle is inside, and the door’s coming down,” Mongo said.

I gave the order. “Let’s move.”

We dismounted the vehicles and crossed the fence in silence, spreading out into a wide formation as we pressed forward across the field under the cover of the moonless night. Lights came on and went off at irregular intervals over the next few minutes as we slowly grew closer to our target.

When we reached the house, Kodiak silently turned the corner and pulled open the heavy metal box mounted on the side of the garage. “Ready to cut power on your mark.”

I took a knee at the rear door and slipped a tensioning arm and pick into the deadbolt lock. The twist came quickly, and the bolt slid from the jamb and back into the housing of the lock. The knob that should’ve been easier to pick proved more of a challenge than I expected, and I believed for a moment I may have to force open the door. That would be far from optimal, but if it became necessary, I certainly wouldn’t call off the operation because of a sticky lock.

I refocused my attention and pressed harder against the tensioning tool. The pins of the mechanism clicked, bound, and released just as they should, but the lock didn’t turn. I glanced up at Shawn, and he raised the toe of his boot, but I shook off the offer and pressed the opposite direction on the tensioner. The barrel moved, and I probed at each pin again until the lock turned smoothly in the opposite direction of every knob lock I’d ever picked.

Shawn pressed the blade of his knife between the door and the jamb at the top left and gave me a nod. With the trigger for the door alarm still depressed beneath the blade of our SEAL’s knife, we slipped silently into the kitchen, and I said, “Kill the power.”

A second later, the few lights remaining in the house went dark, and we waited to hear the chirp of the alarm system’s battery backup. The high-pitched tick sounded just as Kodiak stepped through the door.

Our night-vision devices gave us the ability to see clearly, and Kodiak moved like a cat across the kitchen to the entry door of the pantry, where the alarm panel waited just inside. I held my breath as he worked inside the panel.

When his work was done, he leaned back through the doorway and gave the okay signal. Shawn released the switch on the door, and nothing happened. There was no beep, no horn, not even so much as a click, and we were inside with the alarm system disarmed and darkness consuming the interior for everyone who was wearing nods.

The floor plans we committed to memory were perfect, giving us the ability to clear the first floor of the house in minutes. With no apparent movement inside the structure, we took our first strides up the stairs. I led the way up the front staircase with Gator to my left while Kodiak and Shawn climbed the rear stairs. We reached the second floor simultaneously and continued down the hallway to the location of the master suite.

Just before I reached for the doorknob, Singer said, “One, Six. I’ve got movement in the barn.”

We froze, and I took a knee. Talking wasn’t an option, so I clicked my tongue against my teeth three times.

Singer said, “It’s definitely human.”

I had a thousand questions, none of which I could ask in the moment, but the best intel analyst on Earth lived inside my head, and she came on the line right on cue. “Visual or audible?”

Singer said, “I’m on the peak of the room. I hear the movement through the ridge vent.”

“Single?” Skipper asked.

“Affirmative. Stand by.”

No one made a sound, and the seconds passed like hours until the sniper said, “Someone just flushed a toilet.”

Skipper asked, “Are we sure that’s a barn?”

Singer said, “It looks like a barn, but there’s definitely someone inside, and they have a toilet.”

Skipper said, “Do you want any further intel, One?”

I clicked my tongue once, and she said, “Roger. Continue mission.”

I turned the knob and lifted upward to take the weight of the door off the hinges. The last thing I needed was for Sidney Barbour to hear us coming and draw a weapon on us as we came through the door.

The hinges didn’t squeak, and we moved through like ghosts. What I saw inside the bedroom made my heart sink, and I held up one finger.

Gator moved beside the bed and watched for my signal, even though our target clearly wasn’t where we expected him to be.

I studied the room compared to the floor plan and moved into the bathroom. Barbour wasn’t there, either, so I gave the signal, and Kodiak mounted the dressing bench situated at the foot of the enormous bed. He pressed the switch on his rifle and sent a flood of punishing white light pouring down on the only apparent occupant of the house.

At the same instant, Gator covered the woman’s mouth and said, “I’m only going to hurt you if you don’t give me what I want.”

She whimpered and kicked at the mattress, sending the covers rippling in every direction. Shawn yanked the billowing covers from the bed, leaving the woman exposed, trembling, and obviously terrified.

Gator spoke in soft, measured tones. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth, and you’re going to tell me where your husband is. If you make any sound other than that, I will put a bullet through your skull. Nod if you understand.”

She nodded rapidly, and Gator kept his word. He slid his hand across her chin and pressed the muzzle of his suppressed 9mm to her temple.

She spoke between gasps and jerks. “He’s not here.”

Gator pressed the muzzle deeper into her flesh. “We know he’s not here. Tell us where he is, and we’ll let you live.”

“Who are you people? What do you want?”

“Don’t make me kill you, Mrs. Barbour. Next time you open your mouth, you will determine your fate. You’ll either tell us exactly where your husband is, or you’ll never hear the shot that will turn your brain into liquid. Now, tell us exactly where your husband is or die.”

“He’s…” She choked on the fear she was feeling as she tried to form the words.

Gator was doing well, and I was pleased, but I wasn’t sure we could get Mrs. Barbour calmed down enough to tell us where Sidney was.

“He’s where?” Gator asked in his continued gentle voice.

“He’s… He’s in the…”

“He’s in the what?” Gator asked.

She took a ragged, jerking breath. “Back. He’s in the back. Please don’t—”

I planted a knee on the vacant side of the bed and pressed the hypodermic needle into her arm. As her struggling subsided and her breathing returned to something near normal, Gator said, “You’re going to sleep for a while, and you’ll be fine. You did well, and we’re not going to hurt you, but we will stay with you until we’re certain you’re sleeping soundly.”

I hooked two fingers beneath Shawn’s arm and pulled him toward me. The two of us slipped from the room, leaving Kodiak and Gator to rock Mrs. Barbour back to sleep. We couldn’t afford to have her making a phone call to anyone, especially not her husband in the back.