Elaine Levine - The Edge Of Courage

He radioed Max in the control room at Mandy’s house. “Give me some good news.”

“The State Police have several road blocks set up between Centennial and Ryan Park. They’re looking for a green van or any vehicle that looks suspicious.”

“If they’ve got the road covered, get me info on any properties that might be abandoned up here. Properties that are far enough off road as to have some privacy. Anything that sold recently and could accommodate several fighters. Something. Anything. I don’t think they are still on the road.”

“On it.”

Max radioed back a few minutes later. “There’s a property on your left less than two miles from your current 20. It was a cabin rental site that has been without an owner for the last three years. I’m sending the map to your phone.”

“Thanks. Get someone to pick up Angel. He’s holding a package for us at a rest stop. Be sure to check out that car before moving it. And keep looking for other sites in case this one doesn’t pan out.”

“Roger that. Kelan is already en route. Keep us posted.”

Rocco’s phone pinged when the message came through. He studied the map a moment, then pointed to an upcoming drive. “There’s another private drive a little farther down the road. Turn there.”

Val pulled off the road. Rocco handed him the map he had open on his phone. “Looks like the cabins are about a mile up the road,” Rocco said. “Let’s go see what we’re dealing with.” They put their phones on vibrate, then jogged as far up the drive as they could go. They moved silently into the woods, creeping up a small rise that overlooked the lodges.

Parked in front of one of the cabins, among several other cars, was a green van. They eased into position. Val settled on his stomach and arranged his rifle. Rocco snapped a picture on his cell phone and sent it to Kit. The vehicles definitely looked parked, not abandoned. As he watched, a man stepped out of one of the cabins, slung an AK-47 over his shoulder, then lit a cigarette. When he walked around the other side of the cabin, Rocco radioed Kit.

“Found the green van. Got a nest of camel spiders up here armed with AKs. Permission to use lethal force.”

“Negative. We’re not giving those bastards any virgins today. We need to question them-there’s a bigger op at play than this one. Any sign of Mandy yet?”

“Negative.”

“The FBI’s coming up from Denver. Got a bomb unit from Carson in the air. Owen and I are on our way. Hold your position until we’re in place.”

“What’s your ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Roger that.” Rocco nodded to Val. They watched the site a few minutes, waiting to catch the rhythm the guard used in his patrol.

“Looks like there’s only the one guard. He makes a simple loop,” Val commented.

“I’m going in closer,” Rocco said. “I want to see where Mandy is.”

He held his position until the patrol strolled by. There were eight cabins in an L-shaped formation. All had a front and back window and door. It was hard to tell from the way the vehicles were parked which cabins might be occupied. Looking in the rear window of the first cabin, Rocco could see the space was configured in an open floor plan. The front door stood open, but no one was inside. He motioned to Val that it was empty.

He walked casually across the alley between it and the next cabin. Looking in the window, he could see the space was empty. The third cabin held five men sitting on the floor. No Mandy. He signaled the count to Val, then moved on to the fourth. The window was broken in the back. It was empty. He kept on until he moved to the next to last cabin around the bend. Three men were inside, but no Mandy.

Where the hell was she? Had the green van not been the one that had taken her? Could she still be in the van? Had they stashed her somewhere?

Rocco checked the last cabin, which was empty. He stepped back into the woods, keeping absolutely still while the guard walked between his position and the cabins. When he’d circled around in front again, Rocco went up the hill and crossed to Val.

“Any sign of her?” Val asked.

“No. I didn’t check the van, though. Maybe there were two vans. Maybe the bastard lied. They could be holding her in one of the bathrooms. The third cabin has five guys. The next to the last in that row has three. The others are all empty. I’m going to wait for Kit near the SUV.”

“When you come back, bring my bag. I’ve got plenty of zip ties in there.”

Rocco waited in the cover of a scrub pine. He wanted to rage, to storm the cabins, to kill the bastards working on al Jahni’s terror campaign. Instead, his training and his years of covert ops work kicked in like a core instinct, keeping him calm and focused.

At last, a black Expedition pulled into the drive and parked in front of Val’s SUV. Kit and Owen got out.

“What’s the situation?” Kit asked.

“A quarter of a mile up the road is a ridge that overlooks the campground and cabins.” Rocco knelt down and took up a stick to draw the layout they were working with. “Val’s there. A hundred and fifty meters below him is a line of eight cabins. This one has five tangos, that one has three. One guard patrols the circumference. The green van is here,” he marked an “x” in front of one of the cabins. “Three other vehicles are here, here, and here. No sign of Mandy, so go carefully.”

“Right. Kit will take the patrol,” Owen directed. “Then he and I will take the cabin with the three men in it. You and Val take this one. Let’s go.” They caught up to where Val was lying in wait.

“Any change?” Kit asked.

“Negative,” Val answered without looking away from his scope.

“When the guard is down, radio us,” Owen told Kit. They waited for the patrol to move around the corner before getting into position, four men moving silently as shadows down the steep slope of the ridge. The trees around them were mostly lodge pole pines, with a few aspen mixed in. Soft pine needles covered the ground, damp from the recent snowmelt. If the enemy looked at the right time, they might catch their movement, but they couldn’t be heard.

Rocco’s heart was pounding. With the man he’d caught earlier and the nine here, they’d take ten terrorists out of circulation today. One of them had to know where Mandy was.

As soon as Kit radioed he’d handled the patrol, Rocco and Val stormed their appointed cabin, Rocco coming in from the front, Val from the back. They filled the room with noise and shouts, throwing it into chaos.

“On the floor! On the floor! On the floor! Hands on your head!” Val shouted. Rocco repeated the order in Pashto and then Arabic. Two men complied, crashing to the floor with their hands over their heads. One tried to run past Val, and two turned on Rocco. Rocco slammed the butt of his rifle into the shoulder of one of the men who lunged at him, then jammed his elbow into the other man’s jaw.

“Give me a reason. One goddamned reason,” Rocco shouted at both of them. They didn’t try for him again. “Get down on the floor, hands on your heads.” In short order, they had all five men subdued. Once Val had secured them with zip ties, Rocco collected their weapons.

“Where is the woman, Mandy Fielding?” Rocco asked, watching their expressions. He switched to Pashto, then Arabic, repeating the question, all to blank, impassive faces.

“Was she your woman?” one of the captives asked, his expression smug.

“She is my woman.”

“Perhaps, but not for long. Allah’s will is just. She will pay the price for whoring herself to an infidel.”

“What do you know of her? Where is she?”

“Beyond your reach, I would expect.”

The room fell quiet under that open threat until the metallic sound of Rocco unsheathing his knife broke the silence.