Page 4 of Her Ruthless Protector

“I told her I didn’t care how good she was at giving beak, no man would think she was worth it. Of course, I made sure I was out of the car before I said it.” Cullen’s smile was huge, and everyone was laughing.

“Oh man, I’ve got to remember that, giving beak, that’s fucking priceless.” Asher’s shoulders were shaking, he was laughing so hard.

“Giving beak?” Nick asked.

“Head,” Asher explained. “She’s a raven, so she doesn’t have lips. She gives beak, not head.”

Kane shook his head. He loved his team. He pressed the ‘refresh’ button on his screen again.

Halle-fucking-lujiah!

The images had downloaded.

All thoughts of ravens, feathers, and beaks were forgotten. Okay, he did give a split second to think about how a gothy Scarlett Johansen look-alike might look giving a blow job.

He looked closely at the photos. They were a mega-shit-ton clearer.

“Guys, I have the satellite images, get over here.” Everyone gathered around Kane as he turned his laptop around so they could see. They weren’t infrared so they couldn’t see inside the buildings, but they could clearly see the layout of the compound.

The guys could see the design of al Fadi’s family’s compound. It held one main building that was three stories, and one out building that was a garage butting up against the stone wall surrounding the perimeter.

“This is all wrong. The main gate is here,” Zed said, pointing to a spot opposite the garage. “Meanwhile the garage is next to the wall. I’d bet money that there are tunnels from the house to the garage, and then under the garage to the outside.”

“I sure as hell wouldn’t bet against you.” Asher said.

“Fuck that shit, I’d give ten to one odds that he’s right,” Kane chuckled. “Good eye, Zaragoza.”

“Zed, you’re outside the perimeter, your job is to find that damned exit and stop anybody from escaping, you got it?” Max asked.

Zed gave a feral grin. “Got it.”

“We’re going in pairs.” Max looked around at his team. “Cullen and Nick, you’re going up the outside staircase of the house to the rooftop. Search the top floor. Leo and I will enter the bottom floor and meet you on the second floor. I want Asher and Raiden to be checking out the garage and find the tunnel. Block that fucker. Then get your asses to the main house.” Max waited for everyone to nod, then he turned to Kane.

“Kane—” Max started.

“I know, I know,” Kane said. “I keep all you assholes alive. Are you mic’d up?”

He waited for everyone to sound off in their communication equipment and made sure they came in clearly in his headphones. Then he hit the asset tracking device on his comp and saw that they all came up.

They had about nine more minutes before they would hit al Fadi’s house. Their mission was to capture Barkat al Fadi alive and deliver him to the suits so they could use him to get his father out in the open. After Kane’s last mission in Oman, Kane knew that Saif al Fadi and his fellow terrorist, Hamza al Libi, were planning something big in Oman. They needed to figure out what it was before all hell broke loose, and if they needed to use Saif’s son as a negotiating tool, so be it.

Kane pushed back the tarp and watched as they slowly continued. What once were streets, were now dirt-and-dust-filled winding paths littered with rubble because of all the drone strikes and air attacks. Hell, they were in one of the ritzy parts of town, because that’s where Saif al Fadi’s son and his family lived, and it was now a depressing mess.

In the dark, Kane saw the street dogs, two of them missing legs, nosing through the garbage piled up near the blown-out shells of buildings, as they foraged for food. As hot and cramped as it had been in the truck with eight men in body armor, it still smelled better than it did in the not-so-fresh air outside.

“Kane, are we where we’re supposed to be?” Max asked.

“Marty, looking good?” he spoke in his mic to the Marine driving the truck.

“One more hill, two more turns,” the man replied.

Kane peeked out the racing truck and rolled his eyes when he saw one of the very few storefronts that had working lights. The little store showed at least a hundred AK-47’s for sale in a building that was only half-standing due to drone and air strikes.

Ja’ar was a fucking mess, it was filled with Houthi’s, al-Qaeda, innocents, UN Forces and ISIS, all fighting for territory. This was one of the world’s most violent sewers that ultimately ended up just spewing out thousands of refugees who were sick and starving.

The truck fishtailed around another burnt-out building, rubble flying out from under the tires. Just as suddenly, it slowed to a crawl as it took one last corner. Kane could see the wall of the compound and the truck stopped.

Kane nodded to Max.

“You know your assignments. I want us back with our target in twenty minutes. That’s how long we anticipate al-Qaeda back-up to show up after they call that they’ve been raided. Got it?” Max said.

Kane watched as everyone pulled on their helmets and picked up their rifles. He held the tarp open as each of his teammates jumped out of the truck into the night. Kane leapt to the back of the truck toward his comp and pulled up the asset tracking system. It worked like a charm. The team was just beginning to spread out into their assigned locations.

“Report,” Kane demanded into his mic on the general channel. He listened as every single one of his teammates called in. Okay, ninety seconds in and things were perfect, which only meant eighteen minutes and thirty seconds for things to go wrong.