Hidden ascent hidden all.., p.1
Hidden Ascent (Hidden Alliance Book 2), page 1
HIDDEN ASCENT
Hidden Alliance
SHAWNA COLEING
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Chapter 1
Isla walked low, stepping heel to toe in silence as she inched forward. When the man in front of her stopped, she stopped and straightened.
After adjusting her grip on her weapon, she gave her bulletproof vest one last tug into place. While cumbersome at times, it had saved her life more than once. Today, she wore it because it was part of the required uniform, not because she would need it. Tonight was a simple assignment. They wouldn’t get any resistance. But the rush before entering a building was the same.
A hand tapped her shoulder, and she reached forward, tapping the man in front of her. She’d only known Greg for about a month, but she liked him. He was dependable and solid in a crisis. An excellent addition to the team.
She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “How about candles? Does she like them?”
He twisted around. “Last week you gave me nothing, and you want to talk about it now?”
She smirked. “I work better under pressure.”
The week before, Greg had shared with her that he wanted to propose to his girlfriend, then proceeded to ask for her advice on how he should go about it. But without a romantic bone in her body, Isla had little to offer besides a scene from a romantic comedy a friend had forced her to watch. It had been torture. Greg had agreed.
He turned back around and followed the man in front to the open door of a giant warehouse. She followed behind, along with the rest of the team.
They were a specialized team. Highly skilled. Too skilled for this operation. But Supervising Special Agent Ian Fogarty wouldn’t let anyone else in on it, so it was up to them to get in and get out. The intel was theirs and theirs alone. They knew how many people they would find relaxing in the back room, unaware that they were about to be taken into custody for a drug operation they’d been facilitating. Isla’s team even knew the competence of their quarry in combat. Those they would capture tonight were the brains of the operation, not the brawn.
It was hard to take a job like this seriously, but it was easy to fall back on training. This was a job they could do in their sleep. And in a few more hours, they’d all get to go home to their loved ones. Those who had any.
The room was dark, but they moved through it quickly and efficiently, spreading out to clear it as they went.
After the main part of the warehouse was clear, the team leader, Hugo, signaled them to head for the back. As soon as the team moved forward, the bang of a gunshot filled the room.
Everyone dove for cover except Hugo, who dropped to the ground where he stood.
Isla, trained too well to stare in horror at her fallen leader, crawled on her belly to conceal herself behind a pillar before checking for any other casualties.
Besides Hugo, she couldn’t see that anyone else had fallen. She checked on him again, but he remained still.
Leaning on the pillar with her knees tucked up and ready to push off from her position if needed, she spoke into her radio to call for backup, but the only response she got was static.
It was too dark to make out much in the room, but she could see the outline of two more of her teammates taking cover. She signaled with an exaggerated movement that they were cut off. One of them motioned that he was going to try and make it to the door. She responded that he should hold his position, but he stood anyway as another shot exploded, and he slumped to the ground.
Isla scrambled to the other side of the pillar. She’d seen the muzzle flash, but it was in a different position than the first that had taken down Hugo. Either the sniper could easily move around from above, or they were being stalked by more than one. Either way, they were all exposed.
She stared at the rafters, trying to make out any movement from above, but the ceiling was shrouded in total darkness.
“Where are you?” she whispered as she pressed herself against the concrete at her back.
Something caught in the corner of her eye from above, and she dropped lower as a bullet embedded in the pillar where her head had been. She would have scrambled to find more cover, but an instinct she didn’t recognize—the same one that had caused her to move away from the gunshot moments ago—had her droop in position as though the bullet had hit its mark.
She forced herself into stillness even when she heard another of her team shot. Closing her eyes, she controlled her breathing. She was in the middle of a nightmare with no way out.
When the room went still, she focused on her hearing. Their assailants wouldn’t stay in the rafters forever. But after counting the number of shots and checking off her teammates, she realized it could be only her and one other that was still alive.
“Don’t shoot!”
Isla’s eyes opened wide when she heard the shout. She could see a figure moving slowly across the room with his hands up. It was Greg.
“Greg, don’t show yourself,” she muttered. He should know better. Everything about this mission made it clear that this was a setup. None of them was meant to make it out of the building alive. All the secrets they had about this group would die with them. Then she thought of the other two men who had been part of the operation but weren’t here, Ian Fogarty and their Department of Homeland Security contact, Harris Baker. It was impossible to warn them. They could be dead already.
Greg continued slowly to the center of the room.
Get down! Isla yelled to him in her mind.
“I surrender. Just don’t shoot.” It was only another second before the gunshot hit him, and he was dead like the rest.
Panic closed off Isla’s throat as she fought for calm. She didn’t want to die like this. Her job was risky, and death was often a possible outcome, but she’d made a vow to herself a long time ago that, when it came down to it, she wouldn’t die scared.
This is it, God. I didn’t expect it to end like this. It’s not what I wanted. But I trust you. Wherever you are. Whatever you’re doing. I trust you. I just wish I…
She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps.
Two figures had entered the room.
Isla remained motionless as she watched them walk slowly toward Hugo’s prone body. When they reached him, one of the assailants fired a round into her team leader to make sure he had no chance of recovery. They continued moving through the room and doing the same to the rest.
Fury burned deep in her belly as she watched them.
Don’t let them get away with this. She wanted to charge them. If she could only get her hands around their throats before they had the chance to take her out…but she couldn’t be driven by emotion. Emotion got you killed.
But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a chance. They thought she was dead. If she could make it out of here alive, she would make whoever was behind this pay for annihilating her team.
The rifle she’d been carrying was on the floor behind her position, so it wasn’t an option to defend herself. But she had a sidearm in her belt that she might be able to reach.
Slowly, she shifted her arm, keeping the rest of her body still as she monitored the movement of the two men.
She grimaced when they put a bullet into Greg, but her resolve solidified.
With her hand on the holster, she waited to release the gun until one of the men fired his weapon, covering the sound of her movement.
When they headed her way, she let out an extended breath, steadying herself. In the moments that were about to follow, she didn’t care if she lived or died.
Pushing the fear away, she focused on her next action. She’d fire her weapon in quick succession. If she missed either man, it would be over for her.
With her hand on her gun, she counted off their steps as they moved closer, then pulled the gun free and whipped her body around, firing twice.
Both men fell, but she couldn’t be sure she’d killed them, and now wasn’t the time to check. Others could come at any moment.
She ran for the door. Each press of her feet into the floor sent a reverberation up her body as she waited to feel a bullet tearing through her skull.
When the night air hit her face, she dove behind a pile of pallets nearby only long enough to gather herself. The longer she stayed on the premises, the greater the chance she’d get caught.
After confirming she wasn’t being followed, she made a break for the support vehicle but found the two men who had been waiting in the van were dead.
It jarred her enough that she staggered backward until she heard shouting from the building. She stumbled toward a break in the fence, then sprinted down the road. When she reached the first intersection, she turned and continued running, changing direction any chance she could until her mouth was thick from the exertion.
Fogarty and Baker were in danger, and she was the only one who could warn them.
She slowed her speed and replaced her gun into its holster when she entered a busier part of town. It was still early enough that traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, was abundant, and the way she was dressed was drawing too much attention. But her biggest problem was that she had no idea where she was.
She stepped in front of a slow-moving car, holding up her badge, then moved to the driver’s side, knoc
“I’m agent Isla Taylor with the—”
The driver didn’t wait to hear more before driving off. It didn’t look like the safest part of town, and this guy wasn’t waiting around to find out if her badge was real or not.
Several people had stopped and were watching. She scanned the street. She couldn’t remain in the open like this. Not when they’d be searching for her. Drawing more attention would only make matters worse.
She noticed a convenience store down the road and hurried inside.
“Can you tell me where I am?” she said to the clerk, who had been flipping through a magazine. She didn’t stop to think before it was too late how weird that question sounded.
He looked her up and down. “You don’t know?”
“I’m lost.”
He turned his attention back to his reading material. “Then telling you what street you’re on isn’t going to help.”
“Do you sell maps in here?”
“You want to buy a map?”
“No. I want to look at it.”
“You can’t try before you buy in here. You know how many people I’ve gotta chase out of the magazine section every day?”
She rested her hand on her weapon and stepped up to the counter, grabbing the magazine and tossing it on the floor. “Just tell me where your maps are.”
“Nice try.” He pulled a bat from under the counter. “I’ve had a few would-be robbers come through here this year, but you’re the first who’s dressed up for a costume party. Your gear doesn’t even look real. I’d offer to call the cops, but it takes them too long. It’s easier and quicker for all involved if I simply threaten you myself. Now get lost.”
She pulled out her badge and held it out to him. “Special Agent Taylor with the DEA. It’s urgent.”
“I’ve seen more realistic badges. Where’d you get that, eBay?”
“What is your problem? Just let me see a map, and I’ll go.”
“We don’t sell them. Who uses a paper map anymore? That’s what Google is for.”
“Then I don’t suppose you’d let me borrow your phone’s map?”
“No way.”
“Look—” She noticed a name tag pinned to his shirt. “Dave. I really am a federal agent with the DEA.”
“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you have a phone yourself?”
“I was on an operation. I’m in the middle of a very serious situation. My team was ambushed, and there are two others whose lives are in danger. I need to get to them, but I can’t do that if I don’t know where I am.”
Dave made a face. “An ambush, huh? Sounds to me like you were set up.”
“They’re the same thing. And this gun—” She pulled it out. “Is real. So is this vest.”
“Uh-huh. Well, if I were you, those two you mentioned who weren’t at this ambush, I’d stay well away from them. They’re probably the ones who set you up.”
“You watch too many movies. They weren’t part of the tactical response team. That’s not their job. Now, are you going to stop wasting my time?”
“Sorry, but this is a slow job. I get bored easy, and your story is the best fiction I’ve heard all day. You’re really selling it.” He whacked the counter with his bat. “But I also think you’re psychotic, and if that’s the case, I don’t want to feed your delusion, so please leave the store immediately.”
She didn’t have any more time to convince him of her position, and threatening him wasn’t going to work since she’d never shoot him.
“Fine. But you’re making a big mistake.”
“I can live with that.”
After she left the store, she removed her vest and tactical shirt, tossing them in a nearby dumpster. Anywhere she went would likely elicit the same response. She had to change her tactic if she was going to get anywhere tonight.
Her black T-shirt was plain enough, but the black boots and combat pants she wore weren’t exactly incognito.
Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she tried to walk casually down the street but could feel the stiffness in her body. Nothing about her demeanor was nonchalant. She needed to get help, but she couldn’t fake her way through tonight. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t just experienced her entire team being murdered. But if she couldn’t get to Fogarty soon…Her hands fisted in her pocket as she pushed away the thought that he was already dead.
A couple blocks farther on, she found a gift store open.
She pushed the beads aside and cringed at the smell of incense as she wound her way through the tight aisles until she saw a forty-something man with thinning hair and wearing a Batman T-shirt putting candles on a shelf.
“Hi,” she said sharply.
He looked at her with a lopsided grin. “Good evening. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for a map,” she said, lifting her hands to show she was unarmed. “I like Batman.”
“What?”
She was an expert on tactical missions, but she would never make a good undercover operative. She was a terrible liar. “Your T-shirt.”
“What about it?” His voice was slow, like he was getting a high off the smell. It gave Isla a headache.
“Never mind. Do you have any maps in here?”
“You mean like real ones?”
“As opposed to fake ones? Yes.” Her tone was as clipped as his was drawn out.
“No. We only have the touristy ones. If you need to know where you are, they don’t do you much good. You should try the convenience store down the road.”
She pressed her lips together to keep herself composed. Her adrenaline was dropping and sapping her energy with it. Playing the damsel in distress role wouldn’t work for her. She may have a small bone structure, but she knew the hard look she wore on her face. Couple that with what was left of her tactical gear and her poor acting skills, and she’d only make things worse. She’d have to go for a reasonable middle ground that she could sell even to herself.
“I had my backpack stolen with my phone in it,” she said matter-of-factly. “I chased the guy, lost him, then found him again. By that time, he’d ditched my bag.”
Batman’s mouth had dropped open slightly. “What’d you do to him when you found him?” She couldn’t tell if his wide-eyed look was concern or intrigue.
“You don’t want to know. The problem is, I chased him so far, I’m not sure what part of town I’m in.”
“Why don’t you call an Uber?”
“My phone was in my bag, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“My money too.”
“So you couldn’t have bought the map even if we had one?”
“No. But all I need to do is get my bearings.”
“I can show you the map on my phone if that would help.”
“Yes. It would.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Just don’t steal it.”
“Okay.”
He pulled out his phone and brought up the map app for her, then handed it to her.
Once she identified her position, she noted a large office complex she recognized.
“Thanks. You’ve been a big help. I appreciate it.”
“Any time.”
Chapter 2
“Jay, bring the kid over.” The man who spoke had spiderweb tattoos coving his neck.
Jay put his hand on the boy’s shoulder but pressed down to keep him in the seat instead of doing what he was asked.
Benny couldn’t have been more than eleven, and he was scared.
“Jay, what are you doing? I gave you an order. Drag that piece of garbage over here. I don’t want to get blood on the furniture.”
Jay couldn’t figure out what annoyed him more, that Spider thought he could order him around or that an eleven-year-old kid was about to be tortured for information.
“You gave me an order, did you? Last I checked, I don’t work for you, Spider. Besides, this was never part of the arrangement. I don’t do torture.”
“I never asked you to do it, did I?”
“I think it’s time to let the kid go.”
“Not until he gives us Ezra.”
Ezra was the reason Spider’s uncle had hired Jay. He’d made a mess, and Jay was good at cleaning up messes for whoever wanted to pay him. Often it was other criminals, but he’d been known to do jobs for the feds every now and then too.
