Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

Gritting his teeth, Anthony fought for control before he replied, the SUV swaying as he navigated a turn a bit too sharply, sending the vehicle swerving close to the shoulder of the road. "Let's not forget she had a bit of help on the first one."

It was the wrong retort.

"And yet she escaped your formidable dragnet with ease at the train station. The only mitigating circumstance was that she also pulled the wool over Desmond's eyes, as well, so at least you had some company on that one. But now you can forget all about it. You and your team are done. I want you to report back to headquarters tomorrow morning at 0800 sharp for debriefing. Maybe you can use the rest of today to figure out how you're going to explain this failure to the board."

Anthony grimaced. The board was the three-person case-review panel that evaluated personnel and the overall success or failure of a mission when warranted. Anthony knew that it would be more than warranted in this case. He was looking at an official reprimand, or if things got any more cocked-up, demotion from team leader. That simply wasn't an option.

"Yes, sir." He broke the connection and glared at the rest of his team. "What the hell are you all staring at?"

Liam broke the silence, the only man in the vehicle who could do so under the circumstances. "What's goin' on, boss?"

"Officially, we've been pulled off the assignment. HQ wants us back by tomorrow morning for review."

Carl leaned forward, sticking his head between the front seats. "What's that mean?"

"For you, nothing — you just got stuck with a job that had gone to shit before you got here." He left the second part unsaid, that he and Liam might face disciplinary action from the company. "However, Liam and I are going to continue with the plan as originally stated. You two are free to come with us, or you can take the SUV back when we reach Calais — the choice is yours. I'll tell you one thing, though — I don't plan on coming back unless I have that bitch in tow."

Carl leaned back in his seat and thumped the roof with a bony fist. "Shit, man, I'm in it to win it. Don't want the stink of failure hanging on me my first time out. Let's go all the way."

"How about you, Gregor? You in or you out?" Anthony asked.

The tall Russian's gray eyes pinned him in the rearview mirror, and it was several seconds before the man spoke. "I'm in."

"Excellent. Then, Liam and Carl, back on the phones, and get us a boat." Anthony settled back in his seat and smiled to himself. The new men were going to work out just fine.

And that bitch is going to get everything that's coming to her and then some for making us look bad, he thought. The instructions just say bring her in alive — not uninjured. The thought comforted him as the coastline of England came into view, and just beyond the horizon to the southeast, the coast of France, where his salvation awaited.

Concentrating on looking out the window, David tried not to let the others see his fingers tightly clutching the armrests of his chair. The headphones over his ears muted the roar of the Agusta A-119 Koala helicopter's turbine engine that was ferrying them across the southeastern peninsula of England, and soon over the azure-emerald waters of the English Channel at nearly 200 miles per hour.

They had driven to Heathrow Airport, where they had bypassed the main terminal, customs and any other sort of organization that might have delayed them. At a small hangar on the outskirts of the sprawling airport, they pulled up to a sleek helicopter, its main rotor already carving through the air in a blur. Ducking down, they had taken their cases of equipment, run to the spacious passenger compartment and climbed inside. Cody had patted the pilot's shoulder, and they had lifted off.

It wasn't that David disliked flying — he loved to travel. But there was something about the ungainliness of helicopters that always set him on edge, even though he had traveled in them extensively in Afghanistan. Maybe it was the idea of the entire aircraft being supported by a thin blade of composite materials or aluminum or steel, beating at the air to keep the whole contraption aloft. Maybe it was just that passengers seemed closer to the elements in a helicopter, seemingly not as protected as in an airplane, although both were equally as safe. Maybe, on some fundamental level, he just didn't trust the damn things, having known too many men who had died in chopper accidents, either from enemy fire or mechanical problems. It wasn't a phobia, and it certainly didn't impede his job performance, but he was very careful not to express his concerns to the other members of his team. As in most spec-ops units, any sign of perceived weakness was always exploited and teased mercilessly.

Even now, Kanelo and Tara were engaged in a deep conversation that had started back in the SUV, something about treatment of trauma in a combat situation. For a change, Robert was silent, just staring outside at the countryside they were passing over. David had been researching the city of Paris, trying to get a handle on their target location, but had put away his cell phone and was about to join his sullen team member in silent reverie when he felt a light tap on his knee. Glancing up, he saw Cody pointing to his headset with one hand and holding up four fingers on his other one.

Casting about, he saw the channel control where his headset was plugged in, and switched over. "What's up?" he asked.

"How would you handle this extraction?"

David blinked while he processed the direct question. Cody was known for doing this — tossing the ball to one of the other team members on the fly to see what they'd come up with. Now David was up to bat. "Well, assuming that we can keep the chopper as our primary vehicle, I'd have us dropped off next to the train station, head down to the platform, find and acquire our target and withdraw the same way."

"So you'd just have us slip into the heart of Paris and touch down just like that, huh?"

"Yes, sir, that would be the plan." David brought up his Paris map, which currently showed the area around the Gare du Nord, the train's final destination in France. "See the big building right next to the train station? That's a hospital. It has a helipad. I'll bet a quick call to HQ can insert us into their schedule just like that."

"Okay, what's our cover?"

"A visiting team of specialists from London — something regarding a fellowship, so it's a long-term study and there's no chance they would want us to kibitz with the rest of the staff. We're in, at the station, and out in under an hour, target safely acquired."

"You seem pretty confident," Cody said.

"Well, if the train is running on time, and we were about thirty-five minutes behind once we took off, it's gonna be close. But if I were in charge, it's how I'd go in."

Cody nodded. "All right, I'll set it up. Good work." He made to adjust his channel, but was stopped by David.

"Hey, I'm not doing your work for you, am I?" The question wasn't rhetorical — David thought he already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from his team leader.

"Nope — it's exactly the same game plan I'd come up with. I was just seeing how you handled your premission intel and planning. From what I've seen, it's first-rate — another sign that you aren't a cowboy."

"Thanks, M-One."

"It's my job, M-Two. Now get to work figuring out how the five of us are going to find her among several thousand Parisians and tourists." Flashing him a grin, Cody plugged his phone into the headset and began clearing their way into Paris.

David got on his phone to check with Primary to see if they had gotten any updated pictures of their target from the St. Pancras cameras. He was aware of the other three team members looking at him, but remained engrossed in what he was doing, not even pausing to look out the window at the beautiful countryside blurring by beneath them.