Over the course of the day, they’d gone over the plan again and again. And again. Whenever a question came up, they addressed it with as much expedience as they could.
If one of them had a concern, Talia already had the answer. The impressive Homeland agent had left nothing to chance.
Speaking of the mission…
Jagger pinched the buttons on the sides of his tactical watch to check the time. The face lit up with a soft, red glow allowing him to see that it was eleven-twenty-three.
Seven minutes to go time.
And he was more than ready to get the show on the road.
Glancing around, he noted the looks on the others’ darkened faces. The tension was clear in their shoulders. Pre-mission adrenaline keeping their muscles tight and their trigger fingers ready.
It had only been a couple of days, but Jagger felt more than confident in Echo Team’s abilities. As long as they stuck with the plan and followed orders as they were given, there wouldn’t be any problems.
“Okay, people, listen up.” Talia stepped in the center of the tiny clearing surrounded by the trees they were using as cover. “I know it’s been a long couple of days, and you’re all ready to have this one behind you. Trust me, I am, too. But I also know what’s at stake if we fail to keep those guns off the streets, so I’d like to run through everything one last time.”
“Roger that, partner.” Jagger couldn’t resist sending her a wink.
Talia’s golden eyes found his through the dark. Their gazes held for a pulse-rising moment before she blinked and looked away.
“We’ll go step-by-step,” she instructed. “But this time, instead of Delta taking the lead, I want to hear from Echo. Shaw, you’re up.”
Emmett Shaw. Six-five. Two-twenty-five. Forty-two years old.
The former Marine was slated to be Echo’s team leader. The man’s dark hair, eyes, and the beard covering his strong, chiseled jaw gave him a hardened look befitting the new position he held.
But tough looks did not a leader of elite operators make. Tonight would give them a better idea of just how ready the man was for the role.
“Yes, ma’am.” Emmett took a small step forward. Clearing his throat, his stoic eyes scanned the group intently as he spoke. “When it’s go-time, we’ll exit the staging area and make our way to the first ISB. That’s the group of smaller storage buildings twenty-five yards due east.”
In field ops, the “staging area” was the spot where the team—or in this case, teams—gathered to get organized before executing the mission. In this case, it was the tiny clearing they were currently standing in now.
An ISB was what operatives called the intermediate staging base. In other words, these were the stopping points the teams used for cover between take-off and mission complete.
“Savage.” Talia turned to Echo’s resident computer genius. “What’s next?”
Blake Savage. Six-two. Two-fifteen. Thirty-eight years old.
Former Naval Intelligence, the man’s short, sandy-blond hair barely showed beneath the black ballcap on his head. His sharp, blue eyes, however, shone brightly through the shadows.
“After that, we’ll split off into two groups,” Blake explained. “Group A will make their way through the buildings from the north. B will do the same from the south, with the two meeting back up at the second ISB location.”
“Which is where, Winslow?” Talia moved on to Gwen.
The blonde demolitions expert didn’t miss a beat when it got to her turn. With her M16 hanging loosely from the straps clipped to her vest, she ran through the next step in the plan.
“Center of the east side of the easternmost storage building.”
“Very good.” Talia nodded. “What’s next?”
Gwen dipped her delicate chin in acknowledgement and went on to explain the first truly vital portion of the mission.
“Next, we will split up into pairs. With our partners, we’ll follow our predesignated routes through the rows of stacked shipping containers, taking out any verified targets or threats along the way.”
“Pop quiz, Brown.” The impressive Homeland agent looked to Echo’s designated pilot next. “Where is ISB three?”
Draven Brown. Six-three. Two-twenty. Thirty-six years old.
