“Nah, but I knew you’d eventually see it.” Max smiled up at him, “Tell him we plan to approach it as Unconventional Warfare. Oh, I know it probably falls under the DOD’s Counter Terrorism more than it does UW, but we are the people on the ground. The Mafia… especially the ‘Ndrangheta, they are more like a government than most terrorists we deal with.”
“True.” Noble cocked his head to one side and a smile warmed the stern look on his face. “Thank you.” He hit the number on his phone and put the cell to his ear, waiting for it to connect. “Yo, Claudio, Noble Bauer, I need a favor.”
Max stood out of his chair and moved around Noble. He fired up the computer he had pointed out to Noble a couple of seconds before and hit the on button on the remote next to the keyboard. The shutters came down over the windows and a massive screen rolled down. Thank fuck this room had been set up as a media room. It made briefings like this a hell of a lot easier when everyone could see the intel. He ignored the conversation Noble was having with Claudio. It was none of his business what deals his man made. What mattered was getting the permission they needed to operate on Italian soil.
“Thanks, dude, I owe you one.” Noble finished the call. “Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not telling me I…” Noble cut off what he had been about to say when the door opened to allow Saxon, Roman, and Luc to enter. He could thank Max later for not telling him he was an idiot when the intel they had now had come to light earlier. “Sit your asses at the table, we have a mission to plan.”
“Just us?” Roman scanned the room, obviously looking for the rest of his team. It wasn’t typical for Red Squadron not to all be in the planning stages. But then, this mission wasn’t typical, it didn’t come from the NSA or the DOD, but rather was personal.
“For now.”
“Roger that,” Roman moved to stand against the wall, leaning his shoulders and one boot against it. His go-to position for when they planned stuff. Luc placed himself next to him in a similar pose.
“I feel left out,” Saxon muttered. He took a seat at the round table they would use to plot and plan how they would proceed with the intel they had. He knew it was better that he sat here. He liked to take notes, to remind himself of the who, what, how, and when. Oh, he never took them with him, but writing stuff down, even if it went in the trash can, helped his brain to remember everything discussed.
“You can stand next to the two clowns holding up the wall,” Noble told him, “Or, you can sit your ass there and helps us figure out how we are going to get your man back from the ‘Ndrangheta.”
“He’s not my man,” Saxon muttered, before the full impact of what his boss had said hit him. “You’re shitting me?” He could feel his eyes get huge. He didn’t need a mirror to see it. He also didn’t give care. He should have known, in this part of Italy, if shit was hitting the fan, the mafia was involved. “The fucking mafia?”What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Rick?If Noble had wanted to get his attention, he certainly had it now. “I—”
“Shut it,” Noble ordered. He glanced around the room and frowned. “Damn it, Max, call them in.”
“Yes, Sir.” Max pressed the button on his cell that would send an alert to every member of Red Squadron. In the room, all their phones buzzed. Each man, pulled out their cell, checked it, and tapped yes on the screen, acknowledging they had seen the call to arms.
“Someone fill the coffee pots.” Noble instructed, “We’re gonna need them.”
“Yes, Sir.” Coffee, Saxon could do coffee, it would give him time to get his rioting emotions under control. He crossed the room to where the machine was set up. His hands having to do mundane things like filling the pot with water and pouring ground beans in the filter was better than allowing anyone to see how much he wanted—no, not wanted, needed… how much he needed to find Rick and get his ass safe. By the time the machine had finished doing its thing and he had set the second pot brewing, the rest of his team were in place at the table.
“Listen up, assholes.” Noble called order as soon as Saxon had placed the coffee on the table and sat back in the chair. “We have a mission to plan.”
Noble pressed the button on the remote, sending images to the TV screen. “Our High Value Target is one Kendrick *Rick* Jones. Boom-Boom’s man. Our mission is to retrieve him from the ‘Ndrangheta.”
“He’s not my man,” Jeez, he was starting to sound like a broken record. But maybe if he said it enough, the others would actually listen. Saxon’s stomach flipped and rolled. It could be excitement that things were moving. But it also could be fear that he would fuck it up and be the reason Rick and his team had to pay a higher price than he wanted to pay. Maybe he was wrong in asking the guys to help. What if one of them got killed? The mafia were not people to fuck around with. Getting Rick back should not come at the cost of the ones he loved like family. But what other choice did he have? Red Squadron kicked trouble’s ass better than most superheroes on TV.
“If you say so.” Noble’s tone told them all that he didn’t believe a word of Saxon’s protests. “This is a snatch and retrieve mission.” Noble paced back and forth as he spoke. “We have permission to act, but the Italians have requested that we use minimal force.”
“Give me the address and I’ll use a minimal number of booms.” Saxon muttered. Why the hell was it taking Noble so long to get to the point and give them the fucking intel?
“Nope,” Noble paused mid-step and pointed a finger at Saxon, “No boom-booms, this is an urban environment with possible non-combatants on site.” He blew out a breath before continuing, “Plus the head of that family is related to Claudio’s brother’s mother-in-law.”
“Helmand Province Claudio?” Drax straightened in his chair and reached for the coffeepot.
“Yup,” Noble confirmed. “Claudio and his team, who saved our asses and walked us through those ambush sites from their place on the ridge a mile away.”
“Fuck.”
“Woah,” The two front legs of Zenko’s chair hit the floor. “Since when do Red Squadron take out asshole family members? Coz I gotta tell ya, Bro, if that’s on the table, I gotta list…”
“Preach.” Reese doodled on the pad in front of him, adding to the image he had been working on for as long as he had been a member of the team. Every few days, he would scrap the image, and start it over again. In all the years Red Squadron had been together, he had yet to finish the design. “I have one too.”
“We are not taking out the head of the fucking mafia,” Noble squeezed his fingers into his eyes, telling them all that he was starting to get annoyed.
