“I’ll be careful where I touch, Mother,” Adien said on a scoff. When no one responded and the silence turned grim, he scoffed again. “Come on, we all know I’m the logical choice. The little bastards already had a run at me, and I’m still here.”
Cosky sat up and turned to scowl at Aiden. “You’re here because of Kait’s constant healing. For fuck’s sake, you’re barely a week out of a hospital bed. Nobody knows what a second infection will do to you. Your immune system is still recovering. It might not be able to handle round two with these damn things.”
“Even if they do have fish in that hold, the infectious load on the O-ring would be minimal,” Aiden snapped. “And Kait can do another healing to neutralize any bots I might have picked up.” His gaze skipped from Cosky to Wolf to O’Neill. “Come on, what else are we going to do? Sink the boat and crew again, even though they aren’t showing any creepy symptoms? This is a no-brainer. We need to know if they have fish on board, and we all know I’m the logical choice to go down and see.” Aiden’s voice was hard. The dark eyes, so much like Wolf’s own, were full of conviction.
And he was right. No matter how much Wolf hated to admit it, hisjavaaneewas the safest option for this mission.
Chapter thirty-five
Day 35
Middle of the ocean, off the coast of California
The wind snatched at him, whistling over his body armor and helmet as it tried to drag him out the open cargo door. Aiden tightened his grip on his harness and stepped into open air.
The Chinook was directly over the refrigerated hold. With each second in the sea-soaked air, the chopper’s winch lowered him closer to the O-ring. The wind buffeted him in waves of mist and sea salt while spinning him in circles.
Between spins, he scanned the boat. The Bountiful Harvest’s crew were lying crumpled on the deck. They’d be out for a while,giving him time to attach the cable to the O-ring and lift the hold’s door.
He was within arm’s length of the hold when—crack.
The sound was weak, barely audible above the whistle of the wind. But it was unmistakable. He’d been shot at enough to recognize the crack of a rifle. He twisted in the harness to look at the wheelhouse and watched the rifle barrel in the broken window move.
Crack...
Crack...
The captain was awake and ready for target practice. Thank God he wasn’t much of a shot.
“Cover,” Aiden yelled into his mic as he dangled from the cable. He pulled his legs up to his chest and curled into a tight ball. “Taking fire down here!”
The wind kicked up again, spinning him in circles and long arcs. Which was fine with him. The movement made him harder to hit.
Crack...crack...crack...crack.
The new onslaught of rifle fire came from above. There was his cover, as requested. The cable spun him again until he faced the wheelhouse. Chunks and slivers of wood were flying everywhere. Cos and Winters were trying to keep the bastard away from the window.
The Chinook soared straight up, and like a yo-yo on a string, Aiden went up with it.
“New plan,” Aiden shouted into the mic. “Take me over to the wheelhouse. Drop me on the roof.” Opening the hatch would have to wait until he subdued the captain.
He’d slung one tranquilizer gun over his shoulder and double checked his holstered handpiece before stepping out of the Chinook. At least he had a couple of options when it came to taking down the captain.
But fuck, there went his minimal exposure if the bots were on board. Nothing to do about it now, other than pray the hold was empty.
The Chinook went up, up, up, and then swung him over until he was directly above the wheelhouse. He dropped his legs and uncurled his arms and waited for the pilot to lower the bird. Bountiful Harvest’s captain couldn’t line up a shot from this angle.
Soon as his boots hit the roof, he crouched and unclipped the cable. The Chinook rose again as Aiden shucked the harness. The roof rolled beneath him, making each step a challenge.
“No sign of the target,” Wolf said through the comm. “Rifle is no longer in the window.”
No surprise. Their target would have heard the Chinook hovering above him. He must know they’d dropped someone on the roof. The fact the bastard hadn’t charged outside and started shooting meant he was hunkered inside, waiting. This insertion was not going to be a sneak attack.
Prior to engaging with the Bountiful Harvest, the Chinook had circled the vessel, so he knew there was a large window facing the bow, as well as smaller windows to the starboard and port. No window on the stern, only the door. The target was likely expecting him to insert through the door, so he’d access the window opposite it instead. The dude couldn’t watch two places at once.
With the dart gun slung over his shoulder, and his side arm safely holstered along his thigh, he crab-walked to the edge of the roof, keeping one hand on the weathered wood for balance. Fuck, walking the roof felt like riding a bucking bronco. One big wave and he’d be down for the count.
“You’re good to go, alpha one,” Wolf said through the comm. “No sign of your target.”
