Blayne did as instructed. “Hello?”
“Mr. Blayne Dickenson?” a woman’s voice said over the phone.
“Yes…”
“Ms. Wilson!” Hennigan exclaimed. “What in the hell is going on?”
Chapter Eleven
Ms. Wilson
Twenty-four hours earlier
The announcer’s voice fed through Ms. Wilson’s earbud, “…put your hands together, and let’s hear some noise for Zach, Ethan, Ric and Orr…ZERO, live in concert!”
“Dear God, Phillipa, how can you listen to that nonsense? I’m switching to channel two.”
With a flick of her fingers across her tablet, the noise from the concert disappeared, and a team of agents appeared on her screen, escorting a recently rescued royal from Saudi Arabia back to his family. Sadly, if the kidnapped royal had been his sister, as the terrorist group had originally intended, the Saudi Royal Family wouldn’t have been as likely to negotiate. The Foundation had been called in through back channels to handle the negotiation and retrieval. The princeling didn’t look any worse for wear. He was still confused by the group of five women dressed all in black who had swooped in, taken out the terrorists holding him hostage then dragged his ass kicking and screaming to safety. One problem Ms. Wilson commonly faced when dealing with these ridiculous patriarchal monarchs was their underestimation of women’s capabilities. Sure, on average, women may not have the same muscle mass as men, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be just as skilled and deadly as their male counterparts.
“The money has been transferred. You are free to return the Prince Amir bin Lu’ayy Al-Saad.” She paused for a second before switching to a different channel before speaking again in crisp Arabic.“‘tama al’iifraj ean al’amir ‘amir bin luayi alsaeda, wasawf taqum wasayil alnaql altaabieat lana bi’iisalih ‘iilaa almakan almutafaq ealayh fi ghudun khams daqayiqi, yurjaa min alharas almalakii ‘an yakhudh mawqieah liaistiqbalihi,” she said in a polite, but officious voice—Prince Amir bin Lu’ayy Al-Saad has been released. Our transportation will deliver him to the agreed-upon location in five minutes. Please have the Royal Guard in place.
She listened to the response from the Saudi Arabian officials as she switched channels. “Alpha, Bravo, anything I need to know?”
“Alpha here, the room is still dark,” Richardson replied.
“Bravo. Nothing to report,” Denzili said.
“laqad kan min dawaei sururi taqdim almusaeadat alyawm lilmamlakat alearabiat alsaeudiati,” she spoke into her headset—It’s been a pleasure helping the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia today. There was a momentary burst of chatter as the Prince’s guard escorted him from the helicopter. They had chosen the Sir Abu Nair Airport for the handover. One of the Abu Dhabi Islands, it was roughly fifty nautical miles from both Abu Dhabi and Dubai. The Saudis were flying from their Embassy in Abu Dhabi, so her team was flying in and out of Dubai. Of course, neither the United Arab Emirates nor the Saudi Arabians knew with which flag The Foundation was most closely aligned.
“As-Salaam-Alaikum,” a voice said. ‘Peace be unto you.’
Ms. Wilson wasn’t entirely sure, but she thought it might have been the king thanking her. “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam,” she replied. ‘And unto you peace.’
She watched the monitor as the helicopter lifted off the ground.
“ETA to Dubai, twenty-five minutes to touch down,” the pilot said.
“The Mesa Juamenes Complex is signing off,” Ms. Wilson said. She pulled up the interior cameras at the Toyota Center in Houston and started flipping through.
She had access to the arena’s internal security system. Furthermore, each team member had placed a small camera in their nests so she could see their vantage points as well. She was flipping through the feed when the light in the arena suite turned on.
“Team Leader, this is The Complex. We are a go.”
“Denzili, Richardson, on my mark,” Dr. Hennigan said. “You are cleared to liquidate.”
Ms. Wilson rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of using code names if Phillipa never uses them?” she asked herself.
Something flashed on her screen, and the video feed disappeared. She walked over to her desktop and tried to find out what was going on. She made it halfway through the room when suddenly everything went black.
She tapped her tablet to provide her light. It wasn’t the first time they’d had a power outage at The Complex. It’s difficult to get massive amounts of electrical power to a hidden facility in the middle of a valley surrounded by mountains. The backup generator would kick in within thirty seconds, so she used the tablet to light her way.
In the dimly lit office, cracks of gunfire shattered the silence. The rapid succession of gunshots was not near her, but from the direction they were heading, she had seconds before they would be outside her door. She dropped the tablet and ran to the main entrance of this part of The Complex. She hit the glass case with her elbow and pulled on the black handle inside. Immediately, three inches of armored steel dropped from a place in the ceiling, barricading the door from anyone trying to get in. The manual blast doors had been one of her suggestions a few decades ago—a last deterrent to slow down someone if they attempted to invade The Complex. Between the steel door and the steel reinforced walls, she now stood in the dark in a bomb-proof cage.
The backup generator kicked on, and Ms. Wilson hurried to her desktop, immediately pulling up the internal surveillance feed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” A ragtag group of what looked like ranchers playing military had infiltrated The Complex. Underneath their body armor, their cowboy boots stuck out like sore things. “We’ve been invaded by Nickle-Dicked Rednecks!”
In the excitement, Ms. Wilson had temporarily forgotten the op she was running. She looked for where she’d dropped her tablet, strode over and picked it up. She pulled up the feed for Houston. Nothing happened. “Team leader, can you hear me?” she said into her earpiece as she poked at the screen. Only then did she realize the Wi-Fi network wasn’t showing on her tablet. She walked over to her desk and logged into the wired system, but she still wasn’t connected. She picked up the phone on her desk. There was no dial tone.
