“Copy that,” Adam replied, his voice calm but edged with tension. “Let’s get visual confirmation on the bogey and an update on UAV status.”
“On it.” Cody’s voice crackled over the comms from his concealed vantage point along the island’s Eastern shoreline.
Meanwhile, Becca went straight for her keyboard, her fingers flying in response to Adam’s request. “Checking live satellite feed now.”
Seconds felt like minutes as they passed.
“I’ve got visual,” Cody confirmed. “Enemy Venom inbound. Low altitude. Five Mikes out. Fully equipped with M240 miniguns, rocket pods, and Hellfires.”
Jay’s stomach knotted. As expected, Maya—and whoever she’d brought with her—were coming in hot and armed to the teeth.
Becca’s screen refreshed, and he scanned from the side as she updated the team. “Satellite confirms no new UAVs overhead. Nearest enemy drone holding position. Coordinates locked at: 10°14’23.5” South and 155°33’45.8” West.”
“Alright,” Adam’s voice cut through the comms line crisp and controlled. “We’re weapons hot. Hold positions. No unnecessary comms. That means you, Grace.”
“Hurtful—” she butt in.
“We stick to the game plan,” he continued. “When the Venom touches down, we control the landing zone and everyone in it. Any signs of a secondary force, we adapt fast. Jay, keep an eye on UAV movement. If anything shifts, I want to know about it ASAP.”
“Roger that.” He signaled to Becca to put her Kevlar vest on. She rose from her chair, handed him his first, and then slipped her body armor over her head, adjusting and readjusting the straps until the fit felt right.
Eyes on the screens displaying the radar feed, thermal imaging, and real-time satellite overlays, he did the same with his vest as the Venom’s approach remained steady. “Two minutes to touch down.”
“Still clear on the water,” Cody said. “No signs of a second element.”
“Keep your eyes peeled. Z?” Adam asked, requesting a status update.
“Clear.”
“Chase?”
“Clear.”
“Doc?”
“Ready.”
“Becca?”
“Ready,” she replied, her face pale despite the suffocating heat.
Silence filtered down the line as the pressure ramped up. “Yeah, don’t worry about me,” Gray said, after a couple of quiet seconds, her sarcastic wit making both Jay and Becca grin despite the seriousness of the situation they were about to face. “I’m all good, brother. Alive and well. Peachy keen in case you were wondering. Like five-by-five. Ready to point and shoot. Happier than a jungle gorilla with a banana.”
Adam snorted. “Care to give us a status update, Gray?”
“Ready,” she replied as the sound of the approaching helicopter reached them.
“I have the helo in sight,” Jamie said. “One-six-six-seven-niner-zero.”
Jay ran a simple query through the Department of Defense Aircraft Registry he’d hacked into earlier, cross-referencing the tail number as the whomp of the blades grew louder. The results came back almost instantly. “No match found,” he advised. “No military registration or squadron assignment. Not even a maintenance log. They’re completely off the books, or the number is fake.”
“Copy that,” Adam said, his voice slicing down the line like sharp-edged steel. “We treat all occupants on board as hostile until proven otherwise.”
The helicopter came into view on the surveillance feeds, its dark silhouette knifing through the late-afternoon glare. From the back of the hangar, Jay watched on screen as the Venom flared for landing, rotor wash kicking up a thick cloud of dust and small debris.
“In three-two-one…we have touchdown,” Jamie reported. “LZ is one-fifty meters from outer perimeter—one-twenty from engagement line. Helo is on the ground and in the open.”
Jay’s heart pumped a little extra hard for all the wrong reasons. As calm, cool, and collected as he wanted to be, he was about to face the woman who’d sexually assaulted him, murdered his child, and nearly taken the love of his life.
