“Ah, yes! Je veux présenter Tom One.” JP swung his hand from the big man in the circle to the one shaking off at the entrance. “Et Tom Two.”
“Tom One and Tom Two?” Cody repeated, his brows cocking all the way to his hairline.
“Yep,” Grant replied, his evil grin a reassuring sight. “The Toms are a slightly unbalanced tag team. Don’t mess with them, and you won’t get hurt.”
“Hey, snowflake, you fat fuck.” Tom Two approached the group, and on arrival, he landed a thump to Grant’s back hard enough to shove him two feet ahead. “Glad you’re not dead, asshole. What’d I miss?”
“Introductions, buttnut.”
“Did you get us a boat?” Tom One demanded.
“Fuck yeah, I got us a boat. Cost me a fortune. I also had to offer my firstborn son as collateral if I didn’t bring her back in one piece. But she floats, and the motor motors, so we’re good to go.”
“All we need now is a target and an extraction plan,” Greely said, looking to Chase for direction.
“Then let’s get to it,” he replied, and Jay felt his nerves settle.
Okay, sure. These Canadians appeared to be a ragtag group of crazy ass motherfuckers, but given his experience with the JTT, he knew crazy got the job done. He checked his watch. T-minus nine hours to go time. His heart executed a series of rollover maneuvers that made him want to clutch his hand to his chest to keep it still.
It’d been seven years since he’d been in the same room with Becca…and he couldn’t fucking wait to see her again.
Yeah, the love of his life was in for the surprise of hers.
And holy fuck. He hoped she considered it a good one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After seven hours of setting the groundwork for one of the most daring infiltration operations he’d ever participated in, Grant’s blood pounded in his veins. Nothing like the thrill of a dangerous mission to make you feel alive.
Either that, or he was having a sugar rush from the Jos Louis and can of Pepsi he’d crushed as his main meal of the day. Fucking JP. Never trust a French Canadian to bring the nourishment to a planning session for an unsanctioned invasion on foreign soil.
Gathered around the makeshift command post, the black ops team he’d assembled focused their attention on the satellite image being projected onto a white sheet secured to the ridges of the hangar’s tin wall with duct tape.
“Alright, listen up,” Chase said, his low voice commanding the attention of the entire group huddled under the dimmed lights of the corner they occupied. “Our mission is to infiltrate a Russian military stronghold on the remote island of Big Diomede to locate and extract a high-value target.”
With a click of his mouse, Jay added a picture of Rebecca to the wall screen alongside the photos and maps detailing their tactical plans.
“Needless to say, something like this has never been done before, and there’s no room for error.” Chase stabbed a finger toward team one’s entry point at the southern end of the island. “We need to disable their fleet of ships, ground their two assault helicopters, neutralize any hostile forces, breach their high-security facility, and extract the target before any air support or reinforcements can be dispatched from the mainland.” To emphasize his point, he swept his penetrating gaze around the table. “I want to be sure we’ve covered all our bases, so we’re going to go over shit one more time. Challenge the fuck out of any detail that gives you pause, no matter how insignificant or obscure you think it is. I want this plan tighter than a bearded seal’s asshole in the open sea. Got it?”
Around the table, heads nodded in accompaniment to various murmurs of agreement.
“Advance team lead, start us off.”
JP stepped forward, any trace of the light-hearted jokester gone. In his place was a cold, calculated war machine. “At zero three hundred, équipe numéro one disembarks our sea vessel and makes land at zero three twenty, here.”
He pointed to the narrow strip of beach to the right of the small marina where half a dozen boats of various sizes were docked. “Alpha team traverses the outcrops to the west and approaches their target under cover of darkness.” He formed a circle over the identified entry point, indicating the best area for a stealthy penetration of perimeter defenses.
“Renard, Tom One, and Junior neutralize enemy patrol while Pyro sets the charges to destroy les bateaux. At the same time, Bravo team goes up the cliffs.” He trailed a separate path over the steep wall of rock rimming a narrow beach.
“Grant and me—we give the Z-man the cover to set the kaboom on the helicopters while Greely, Le Roc, and Shadow continue on to their positions at the top of this ridge to secure the compound.” He poked at an outcrop of rock overlooking the cluster of buildings Rebecca called home. “At zero five thirty, we light up the sky, and announce our presence.”
“Questions? Concerns?” Chase asked, allowing the group to voice any issues with phase one of the extraction plan. When no one raised any objections, he gave Cody a sharp nod and the green light to proceed with the second stage of the rescue mission. “Team two lead, go ahead.”
“As soon as the explosives immobilize Russian defenses, we come in weapons hot,” Cody replied, getting to his feet and trading places with JP. “By now, the sun will be up, and the enemy will know they’re under assault, so there’s no hesitation, we shoot everything that moves. Ryder will set us down in the courtyard—here.” He jabbed at the screen, and the sheet fluttered, making the entire image shake.
“We use plastics to breach the main door in under thirty, and TC, Mac, Doc, and I search the facility room by room until we find and secure the target. Shadow, Le Roc, and Greely provide coverage for Ryder and the extraction team from their position while Bravo team makes their way to the compound to neutralize any hidden threats. Once we have the target on board, the JTT are wheels up in the Black Hawk to provide air support until the JTF2 is all clear.”
“Tom Two,” Chase said, hitching his chin at the world-class tier-one operator Grant knew well. Along with Tom One and JP, they’d come on together, made it through the selection process, survived Hell Week, and successfully completed the seven-month SOA course to become Special Operations Assaulters with the Canadian military.
