Chasing daylight stealth.., p.31
Chasing Daylight (Stealth Ops Book 7), page 31
Anthony’s brows tightened as if seeing a mirage. Plus, the visibility in the room was limited. “I tried to find you after your parents died. I looked and looked. I gave up once I learned most Volkovs were gone in the U.S., assuming the Russians got to you as well.”
Her shoulders shuddered at his words, at the warmth in his eyes when framing his focus her way. He may have been a criminal, but there was concern for her in his worried expression. “I was in hiding,” she whispered. “But I need your help.”
“Do you trust this man?” Anthony side-eyed Porter.
Maybe I don’t?
“Echo One, listen very closely,” Harper abruptly announced in her ear. “I just received word from Mama Bear.” Mama Bear was the call sign Chris had chosen for Jessica Scott for their mission. “She pieced together the footage from the movie theater shooting. Target One did not take the fatal shots.”
Ana should have felt relief, but her stomach muscles clenched tight as she waited for Harper to continue.
“But he did confront your parents moments before they were killed. He was standing next to the agent who took the shots. He even exchanged a few words with your dad—I can’t hear what was said, but only then did your parents raise their guns.” Harper paused and Ana struggled to maintain a blank expression, to not squeeze her eyes closed. The fact Harper was no longer using code names meant the truth mattered more than anyone possibly listening in to their encrypted comms. “He lied to you, which means he may have lied about even more.”
“Everything okay?” Ana jolted at Porter’s question.
“No,” she hissed and went for her gun. “No, I don’t trust him.”
Porter stepped away from Anthony, immediately drawing his Glock from a hidden holster beneath his shirt. “What are you doing?” he asked, alarmed. “Put the gun down.”
“You lied,” she whispered. “You were next to the man who shot my parents.” Tears of more betrayal than she could stomach welled in her eyes. “What’s really going on? Are you framing me? Did you send the hitman after the sources to set up the Volkovs? And me?”
“No.” Porter shook his head but kept his gun on her. “I have nothing to do with that, I swear.”
“Stand down. This wasn’t the plan, Echo One,” Roman’s voice cut through the line, quickly followed by the roar of A.J.’s BMX bike flooding her ears over the comm. Most likely on his way to her.
“You walked me down the aisle at my wedding. How could you?” A part of her wanted to shoot him right there.
Anthony walked backward and planted himself against the wall and out of harm’s way.
“It’s not what you think. Everything I’ve done since I met you has been to protect you, I swear.” Porter’s voice was strained, pleading. “I’m going to lower my gun, and how about you lower yours?”
“I can’t do that.” She did her best to remain calm and firm. The FBI agent. But so much of her was the sixteen-year-old girl who lost her parents at that moment. Shaky and emotional. “You took money from the Russians to do their bidding. You still are, I assume.”
Porter slowly pointed his weapon toward the ground. He took one step forward, and she took an immediate step back. No trust left. He was more than just a liar. He was an enemy of the state. The mole at the Bureau. He sold her out and set her up. Used her history and played on her emotions to get to the ledger and key. “Please, let me explain!”
“I’m on my way,” A.J. rushed out over comms. “Forty-five more seconds.” Panic filled his voice so loud it competed with the engine of his bike.
But no, she had to face the man who fucked up the last fifteen years of her life herself.
“We need the ledger and key to keep you safe.” Porter’s voice broke when he spoke. “You don’t understand.”
The door suddenly flung open, but instead of A.J. barging in, it was Anthony making a run for it. Shit. Porter peered at Ana, then tossed a look back toward Anthony.
“Don’t shoot me in the back, Ana. But we can’t let him get away.” He bolted toward the door, leaving her wrapped in a cocoon of shock.
The snap-snap of two shots fired pulled her from her stupor, and she ran toward the open door but halted at the sight of Porter lying on the ground.
“Stay down. Stay down. Enemy fire from an unknown origin,” Finn hollered over the line.
“There’s movement on the south side,” Chris added. “Echo Two, you have the wheels. You’re our best chance at catching the shooter.”
Anthony was nowhere in sight, but Ana heard the humming of the BMX closing in.
“I need to get to Ana!” A.J. insisted.
“I’m okay! Go,” she pleaded as she ran toward Porter, then crouched at his side. “Target Two took off. He’s somewhere in the woods. We need him!”
“Roger,” Chris said. “I’ll find him.”
“Get back in the cabin until we find the shooter!” A.J. commanded, but she couldn’t leave Porter’s side until she had answers.
She lifted Porter’s shirt to find a bulletproof vest, but most body armor wouldn’t stop a full metal jacket steel round from a sniper rifle, and today, it hadn’t. It nailed him in the abdomen. The second shot must have missed.
Porter’s eyes opened and closed as he winced in agony. “I’m sorry, Ana.” He slowly lifted his hand, and against her better judgment, she set her gun down and locked hold of his palm. “I never wanted to pull you back into this.” His tone was fading. “I had no choice. He would have killed you. I was trying to protect-protect you. You need to get the ledger and key. It’s the only way you’ll survive.”
“I don’t understand.” She squeezed his hand tighter and bent over his body to better see his face. “Please.”
“You did become like a daughter to me. It should never . . . have come to this.” Porter’s eyes closed. “I’m so sorry.”
“Please, tell me—” She let go of her words when he lost consciousness. He still had a pulse, though. “We need an ambulance now. Tell them we have a GSW in the abdomen. Male. Fifty-two. Takes blood pressure medicine,” she rushed out over the radio. “Need a helo to medivac him to the hospital.”
“On it,” Harper responded as Ana applied pressure to the wound, not sure what else to do. “You need to get out of there, Echo One. You’re in the open!”
“He may die if I leave him.” Warm tears slid down her cheeks. Why was she crying? Porter betrayed her.
Her attention was quickly diverted to the woods at the sound of two more shots popping. Then a loud, crackling sound, followed by a boom. Smoke filled the air in the distance on the south side of the property. A.J.’s bike. No, no, no!
Three more snaps.
Static over her comm.
“A.J.?” she cried out, not giving a damn about his call sign. “You okay? What happened?”
She had no choice but to leave Porter if A.J. was in trouble. She snatched her 9mm and forced her wobbly legs to move, darting in the direction of the fire, doing her best not to stumble and fall in the dark.
“Echo Two, do you copy?” Roman’s voice filled the line. He was breathing hard, running. “Echo Two, do you copy?”
“I have eyes on the bike,” Finn said, his tone fatigued as well. “The bike’s on fire. Ivan must’ve shot the gas tank.”
“Any signs of Echo Two?” Harper interjected.
“I have Anthony,” Chris said over the line a moment later. “What’s the status on Echo Two?”
“I think I have a visual,” Roman announced. “Two bodies are down near the fire.”
“On my way,” Finn yelled.
Please, God. Please, let him be okay. Her shoe hit a small, fallen tree, and she nearly lost her balance from running so fast without much visibility. The fire was the only light guiding her path to him.
“I’m okay, fucking hell, that hurt, though.” A.J.’s words had Ana slowing, her heart shattering into a thousand fragments for a brief moment before piecing back together. “My helmet came off, and I lost my signal for a sec. Motherfucker shot my engine, and I got tossed. But I got him. He’s down.”
“You scared us, Two,” Harper quickly said as Ana remained shocked with relief.
“Echo One . . . Ana, are you okay?” A.J. asked.
“Yes, and I’m almost to you,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Is Ivan alive?”
“Thank God,” A.J. answered, winded. “I’m dragging my ass over to Ivan now to see if he still has a pulse.”
Ana was twenty feet away when she caught sight of movement on the east and west sides, flanking A.J., but her sight was impaired by the dim lighting. “A.J.!” She squinted, catching A.J. on his knees next to Ivan, the fire illuminating his location. They’d need to put out that fire before acres of forest burned down.
“We don’t have much time to get out of here,” Harper quickly announced. “Police and the fire department are on their way. Told them we have an assassin and an FBI agent down.”
“Can someone get back to Porter and pack his wound, so he has a chance at surviving?” Ana asked over comms, and Finn responded by nodding and taking off toward the cabin.
“We got a live one!” A.J. tossed a gloved hand in the air, motioning them to his position.
Ana leaped over a log like she was an Olympic hurdle jumper and ate up the last few feet of space. She dropped to the ground next to A.J. and flung her arms around his neck. “I thought I lost you,” she rasped.
He circled his arms around her and held her tight. “No way.” He pressed a kiss to her temple before releasing her since they were dealing with a time-sensitive issue.
“Ivan.” Ana brought her palms to the hitman’s chest and clutched the vest he was wearing. A bullet had entered through his side from what she could tell based on the blood. Another bullet had struck Ivan’s chest plate, not piercing flesh like it had with Porter since the ammo was from a Glock 19. “Ivan, please, talk to me.”
Ivan groaned, and she pushed the night-vision goggles away from Ivan’s face to see his eyes. “Why were you here? Who is calling the shots?” she asked, confused as to why he killed Porter. “Please, the SVR is secretly footing your bill. You were working for them. But who was the middleman?”
“What?” Ivan choked out, possibly more horrified by that truth than the fact he might die. “No, it cannot be.”
“It’s true. And I’m being set up by the Russians now, the same way they set up your brother before killing him.” Maybe the hitman didn’t have a soul, but he loved his brother. It was her only hope to get him to open up before he died. “What was next in the plan? Why did you kill Porter? Are the sources still alive?” she rattled off her questions, not sure if he even heard her since his eyes were closed tight.
But his hand slowly went to his side pants pocket, and she quickly snatched what he’d been directing her to—his iPhone.
“A tracker is on there. They are still alive,” Ivan said, his voice even weaker this time. On the verge of losing consciousness. She brought the phone to Ivan’s face for an ID, and A.J. shone a light Ivan’s direction so it’d work. “I was to track Porter and wait until he met with you. Kill him, then follow you to the Volk . . .”
“Damn it,” Ana said, fingers on his pulse. “We’re gonna lose him if we don’t do something.”
Roman knelt by Ivan, removed his vest, and began compressions.
A.J. pulled Ana back and pinned her to his side as she studied the phone. “The tracker app.” She showed him the screen with three blinking lights in three locations on a map of the U.S. She had to have hope that Katya and the others were alive as Ivan had said.
“The last call he received,” A.J. said. “We should call the number.”
Her hand trembled, the flames growing higher, not even ten feet away from where they were.
“You all need to get out of there. The sirens are closing in on you. A helo will be touching down in a field nearby to airlift Porter and Ivan to the hospital. Ana’s still a fugitive,” Harper alerted them.
“Shit. Ivan’s dead,” Roman announced a breath later. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s the status on Porter?” Ana sputtered.
“Still got a pulse,” Finn answered. “But I’ve gotta leave him now.”
“We need to move out to our exfil site.” A.J. reached for Ana’s arm, urging her to stand. “Harper, get ahold of someone you trust,” he began as they stood. “We need a plausible reason for Grant’s bike being here and in flames.”
“Roger,” Harper said.
“Come on, we gotta go.” A.J. kept hold of her as they started moving fast in the dark. They followed close behind Roman and Finn since A.J.’s helmet and NVGs were broken, and he couldn’t guide them out of there on their own.
She kept the phone active as they moved so it wouldn’t lock again. “I need to call the number,” she said as they neared the exfil site ten minutes later, and A.J. nodded in agreement. She re-dialed the last number on the “Recents” list and set the call to speakerphone.
Two rings and then an answer. “Is it done? Is he dead?”
Ana froze, her stomach sinking, and then she quickly killed the call.
“What? You recognize the voice?” A.J. asked, alarm in his tone.
Ana tightened her free hand at her side. “Yes,” she whispered. “Deputy Assistant Director Winters.”
Chapter Thirty
A.J. quickly rose at the sight of Ana boarding the private plane and swatted away Finn’s hand. Echo Five had ordered A.J. to the long couch on the left side of the Learjet 60 and started tending to his injuries as soon as they’d entered the plush cabin of the aircraft. There were ten more seats on the opposite side of the aisle to accommodate the team. Roman and Harper were already on board and in the cockpit talking to the pilot, and Chris was on a call with Wyatt a few seats down from where Anthony sat.
Ana walked down the narrow aisle toward A.J. “You need to see a doctor about your head when we’re back,” she scolded. “That’s an order.”
Finn secured a bandage to A.J.’s temple, hiding the gnarly cut he’d gotten when he was thrown from the BMX, and then pivoted his focus to Anthony to check for damage.
They hadn’t had a chance to question the forger yet, in too big of a hurry to get away from the safe house before the fire department showed up. A.J. would feel a lot safer once their plane was in the air.
A.J. followed her down the aisle to a pair of empty seats and ushered her to the one near the window.
“Any news on Porter?” Her voice was soft yet resolute, and he was unsure whether she was feeling angry, sad, or a combination of the two regarding Porter.
“He’s still in surgery. We probably won’t know his status until we land in Hungary.” A.J. reached for her hand and clasped it in his. They’d both changed clothes upon arrival at the private hangar west of Atlanta. Opting for comfort on the long overnight flight to Hungary.
He’d swapped his military camo fatigues for jeans and a long-sleeved, black button-down shirt, and Ana had on jeans and a scoop-neck white silk blouse.
“At least he’s still alive. He was close to telling me something important, but I don’t know if I’d believe anything he had to say at this point.” Her shoulders collapsed, the weight of Porter’s betrayal a heavy burden, and it was the last thing she needed.
“Jessica provided her contact at the FBI the three locations for the missing sources. They should be dispatching teams to find them soon,” he added, hoping to offer her a glimmer of good news on such a dark night.
“Any word on Winters? What about him?” She turned her head his way, the usual sparkle in her green eyes gone, her auburn brows drawn tight.
“Natasha has people in D.C. looking for him. Winters wasn’t at his home or the office. But by now, he must have heard Porter is in surgery, and Ivan is dead. I’m sure he’ll take off. And with any luck, he’ll hightail it to the Maldives. I assume he decided to cut Porter out of the payday.” At least Luke and Knox are there waiting.
“Porter claimed he had nothing to do with the missing sources or hiring Ivan,” Ana said, her voice still soft and subdued. “Do you really think he was trying to protect me?”
“I can understand why you’d want to believe that.” A.J. squeezed her hand. “But maybe we wait and get all the facts before we determine his guilt in all of this. What do you say?”
She lightly nodded, her gaze going to the small window at her side. “I still don’t get Winters’s role in my parents’ death.”
En route to the jet, Jessica had announced she’d recovered the names of the agents in the case file from fifteen years ago. Not only was Winters not on scene that night, he wasn’t even working in D.C. at the time. He was a special agent at the Bureau in New York City. Something didn’t add up. “Winters will have to explain himself once Luke and Knox get their hands on him,” A.J. said with a firm voice, hoping if he spoke his thoughts aloud, his words would translate to reality.
Ana pinned her back to the seat but kept her hand locked with his. “And now we know why the FBI didn’t track the account to the Maldives. Winters probably blocked the agents from finding out. He wanted that payday.”
“Well, POTUS will be alerting Director Mendez about the evidence we have implicating Winters as the person who not only hired The Huntsman but is most likely working with the SVR. Hopefully, once the wheels touch ground in Budapest, you’ll have been removed from the fugitive list.”
“Once we’re wheels up, I need to talk to Anthony,” Ana said as the jet taxied down the runway of the private airstrip outside of Atlanta. “I’m just afraid his answers will prompt more questions, and quite frankly, I’m tired of speculating. Too much trusting the wrong people.” She peered A.J.’s way as the plane climbed into the air. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would have survived this.”
“I got you. Don’t worry.” He repeated what he’d said to her the night of their first kiss in the pond.
“You do, don’t you?” she whispered, and he had to read her lips when his hearing went to shit once they were in the clouds.
