Operation Dark Tidings
By Dominic Pierce
Chapter One
Ben Garrison
Two days before Christmas, and I was walking into Citadel headquarters with a ninety-pound Belgian Malinois who knew something was up.
Jolly had been restless all morning, picking up on my energy the way he always did. I’d tried to play it cool, but the dog knew me too well. Every time I checked my phone, every time I ran through the mental checklist, his ears would perk and he’d give me that look—the one that saidWe going to work, or what?
“Yeah, buddy.” I scratched behind his ears as we crossed the parking lot. “We’re going to work.”
He sneezed—that sharp, deliberate sound he made when he was satisfied about something. His version offinally.
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying the couch time. I saw you hogging the blanket this morning.”
His tail wagged once—hard, deliberate—but he didn’t deny it. Jolly had two modes: elite military working dog and shameless blanket thief. The switch between them was instant, and I’d long ago stopped trying to reconcile the dog who could track a targetthrough miles of jungle with the one who pouted when I didn’t share my sandwich.
The Citadel Solutions building was quiet, that strange hush that settled over any workplace during the holidays. Half the staff had already scattered to family dinners and ski trips. But as I pushed through the door to the briefing room, the energy hit me immediately.
The whole inner team was here. And everyone was awake in a way that had nothing to do with coffee.
Ethan stood at the front, tablet in hand, but his usual neutral mask had a crack in it—something almost like anticipation. Logan leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, but the tension in his shoulders was different than usual. Lighter. Ty had claimed his usual spot, boots up on the table until Jace knocked them off—a ritual so ingrained I wasn’t sure either of them noticed they were doing it anymore. Andrew sat near the window, flipping through a folder with the quiet focus he brought to everything.
Two days before Christmas, and the whole team had shown up without a single complaint. That was its own miracle in and of itself.
Jolly pressed against my leg as I found a seat, his nose working the air. He could feel it too—the anticipation humming under the surface. The coiled energy before an op.
“Ben. Jolly.” Ethan nodded at me. “Good. We’re all here. Let’s run through it one more time.”
“For the record,” Ty announced, “Charlotte wants everyone to know I owe her a full Christmas movie marathon when we get back.”
“What’s on the list?” Jace asked without looking up from his laptop.
“Die Hard, obviously. Die Hard 2. We were going to debate whether Die Hard 3 counts as a Christmas movie?—”
“Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie.”
“It absolutely is a Christmas movie, and I will die hard on that hill. But the point is, Charlotte understands the importance of this particular mission and has graciously agreed to postpone our holiday traditions.” Ty grinned. “She also helped me with the wrapping, because apparently my technique of guessing how much wrapping paper I need then taping extra strips to it if I’m wrong was, quote, ‘offensive to the concept of gift-giving.’”
“She’s not incorrect,” Logan said. “I’ve seen you wrap things. It looks like you fought the paper and lost.”
“The tape gets away from me. It’s a whole thing.”
Jolly’s tail thumped against my leg. He didn’t understand the words, but he knew these people. He was happy to be here no matter what time of the year it was.
Ethan pulled up a map on the wall screen. Jungle terrain, a river cutting through dense green, and a small cluster of buildings I recognized from mission briefings and Lauren’s stories.
Corazón.
My hand found Jolly’s head without thinking, fingers sinking into the thick fur at the base of his skull. He leaned into the touch, but his eyes stayed on the screen.
Lauren Valentino had been running a medical clinic in that village, doing good work, staying under the radar—until the Silva cartel decided she was a liability. The Citadel team had gone in posing as a weather research group, in an attempt to get her and the other doctors out ahead of Hurricane Tristan. It had all worked out—especially for Logan and Lauren—but the extraction had been loud and messy. The kind of op that ends with bodies and burning buildings.
We’d killed the Silvas—father and son both. Their cartel’s reign was over. But by the time we ended the Silvas’ reign,the village had already paid the price for helping an American doctor.
“Operation Dark Tidings,” Ethan said. “Final review. Target location is the village in former Silva cartel territory. Objective remains unchanged: covert delivery of cargo to designated coordinates. Zero footprint. In and out before first light.”
