Derek West looked down at the tablet he was holding and studied the blurred, orange-red images on the screen.
“I see what you see, Mac,” he told the former Ranger. She was the only female member of R.I.S.C., and one of the best snipers Derek had ever seen. “I'm not pickin' anyone else up around the perimeter.”
“What about inside?”
That question came from their team leader, Jake McQueen, positioned a few yards to his right.
“Affirmative, Boss. There's one just inside the door to the left, plus two more standing about fifteen feet due west.”
“And the hostages?”
Derek used his thumb and forefinger to push the image back, allowing him to see more of the interior. Along the back wall was a long, almost continuous orange blur.
He gritted his teeth. “Lined up against the south wall. They appear to be standing shoulder-to-shoulder.”
Positioned on a hill across the street from the abandoned warehouse, Derek couldn't actually see the women and young girls who'd been taken against their will. But, he knew they were there. Worse, he knew why.
“Remember, D,” Jake spoke low. “Once you hear the code phrase, I'll let Ryker know it's time for his boys to move in.”
“Got it.”
Agent Jason Ryker was the head of a covert unit within Homeland Security. Through this unit, he oftentimes called upon R.I.S.C. to either fully execute or aid in the completion of a mission. Jobs too sensitive for the government to officially become involved in.
R.I.S.C.—which stood for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture—was the elite, private security firm owned by McQueen. After serving as a Navy SEAL for several years, he’d decided it was time for a change.
While he and the rest of Alpha Team still went on ops similar to those he’d been on as a SEAL, working the private sector allowed for more leeway in both the logistics of the job and their personal lives.
Their team wasn’t held back by as much red tape as the military, which meant they could get the job done in the most efficient and time-sensitive manner. Working for R.I.S.C. versus being a SEAL also allowed him and his teammates more time at home.
More time at home meant more time for fun.
Sean “Coop” Cooper's voice hit Derek's ear, bringing his attention back in the game. “I see headlights turning onto the road now. Has to be them.”
Not far from Mac, Coop was positioned several yards to Derek's left with a clear vantage point of both the road and the front of the building.
As Alpha Team's second sniper, Coop and Mac worked closely together to ensure any threat—either to the team or to any innocents in the vicinity—was taken out with speed and efficiency.
Derek picked up his tactical binoculars. “So help me, they put so much as a scratch on her...”
“You still whining about them using your car?” Jake teased. “Trevor gave you his word they'd take care of it.”
Like Jake, Trevor Matthews was a former Delta Force operator. He’d been in Delta with Jake and was now Alpha Team’s medic and Jake’s SIC, or second in command.
“Her,” Derek corrected the other man. “And she's not just a car, Boss. That's my girl they're drivin'.”
“It's a car, D,” Mac stated bluntly.
“It's a limited-edition Challenger SRT Hellcat with a six-point two-liter V-eight engine and over seven hundred twenty horses runnin' inside her. She's not just a car, sweetheart. That right there's a thing of beauty.”
Mac's snort came through the tiny mic in his ear. “That right there is a big hunk of cumbersome metal. I mean, what good is it, anyway? It's not like you can go off-roading or anything. Hell, you can't even take the top off.”
Without missing a beat, Coop chimed in with, “I bet he's taken plenty of tops off inside the car. Does that count?”
Ignoring the snickers coming from the guys, Mac said, “I'll stick with my Jeep.”
“Ruby?” Derek's face scrunched as he spouted off the name Mac had given her custom-built Jeep Rubicon. “That atrocity ain't got nothin' on my Charlie.”
“And that's another thing.” Mac shook her head. “What kind of name is Charlie? If you're gonna name a car it's supposed to be a girl's name.”
