“Did Bretton say how many men?” Lark wiggled her fingers to loosen the building tension and kept her breathing slow and controlled. Bretton was supposed to have checked in a half hour ago, but that hadn’t happened, like so many other things. Not the first shitstorm of a mission, but her heartburn reminded her that nothing about this one had felt right. “His last transmission, he wasn’t sure. Said they kept changing who should be involved, and he’d do his best to keep us informed.”
“We know there are at least four armed guards and not in plain sight,” Specs said. “We’ve got a visual on two. As far as the rest of it goes, we only know about the main contact, possibly the lead software engineer, and Bradford.”
“As in the fucking military liaison?” Lark mumbled the statement. No one needed to comment. Everyone knew Bradford. Ex-CIA. Ex-JSOC as part of the ISA or Intelligence Support Activity. He’d left his post three years ago because he liked money more than he liked doing the right thing, even if that wasn’t his official reason for taking a job in the private sector.
Perhaps this explained everything, including why Grady got involved and sent in Kawan and his team.
“I’m in place,” Thor said. “I can see Hector, Bradford… and we’ve got a fucking problem.”
“What’s that?” Lark shifted, rubbing her hand up and down her leg, before snagging the monocular hanging on her belt. She adjusted the lens as she put it to her eye. Finding Thor was easy, but as she panned down the street to where it curved, she couldn’t see past the damn bend.
“Your man, Bretton, is with them,” Thor said.
“Fuck,” she mumbled. “This is turning into a real shitshow.”
“Not much we can do about it now,” Kawan said. “Torin is strolling in from the west side with Amir. Just walked over the bridge. Torin has a cocky swagger if I ever saw one.”
“He’s cocky, alright.” Lark sucked in a shallow breath and let it out slowly.
“Torin just gave the signal—three taps, right sleeve,” Thor said. “We’re a go.”
Lark tucked the monocular back into her belt, pressed her stomach flat against the rooftop, and adjusted her sniper rifle. She hated being blind. The bend… the bridge… When the location change came down, the seller knew they’d be tucked away where it would be difficult for anyone to watch.
Including their own people.
A crackle came over the comms. “Visual on the seller’s muscle. They’re heading toward the square, weapons not visible,but they’re not exactly blending,” Alverez said with a hint of unease.
“Standard arrogance,” Sloan muttered. “Bad guys love to peacock.”
“Keep an eye out for more, and don’t engage,” Lark said. “We’re eyes only—unless something shifts.” The plan was simple. Make the sale, and Torin walks away with the product. Once outside the village, Torin meets up with his handler, and safeguards the AI. A team from the DoD handles the rest at Senatrix Global.
“Boss, we’ve got a problem,” Specs said. “One of the seller’s men just peeled off and ducked into that alley.”
“Marking it now. Cam two,” Jupiter replied. “Trying to get a new angle, but we’re getting dead zones again.”
Lark stiffened. “Which zone?”
“The northeast corner near the chapel,” Jupiter said. “Where Mina’s located.”
“Got another one heading southwest, toward Lark’s post,” Jupiter said.
“I’m not liking this,” Kawan said. “Someone needs to keep an eye?—”
“I’m fine. At least, for now,” Lark said. “We need to follow this plan as best we can. I need eyes on that fucking software, Torin, Bretton, and now Bradford.”
“Watch your back, Stratton,” Kawan said softly.
“We’ve got more men with guns out here,” Moose said. “Spotted two more taking off in the direction of Alverez.”
“Shit.” Her pulse kicked up. She clicked the comms again. “Alvarez, copy?”
Silence.
“Alvarez, this is Strattan. Come in.” She paused for a couple of seconds. “Mina. Come in, Mina.”
“I’m on the move,” Moose said.
“Wes, Wes, you copy?” Lark’s stomach clenched. “Specs, re-route cams. Now.”
