J Saint - Collateral Damage

Sure she understood the global ramifications of the terrorist acts Bill had helped orchestrate. And she realized the CIA, NCS, and every other acronym had to aggressively investigate in order to stop any future attacks, but she didn't know anything about any of it. Meanwhile her sons were in immediate danger.

That the men were agitated with her was an understatement. Except for Jack, he'd leaned back in his seat with an angry smirk. He didn't like being held prisoner either and her stubborn resistance either amused him or satisfied his desire to stick it to the bowling ball SOO and the scary Rash McGuire at the moment.

Everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours plus since Matt and Mitch's birthday party ran through her mind like a sick reality show, one with a garish billionaire with a chimp and- Oh, hell yes!

She stood up so fast that the blood drained from her brain and her vision wavered a minute before settling out. "I need some fresh air."

"There's plenty of air inside," the SOO said.

Lauren glared at him. "Afraid I'll leap the deck in a single bound? Race like a speeding bullet?"

"Better call your watch dogs." Jack rose, opened the French doors, and gestured for her to precede him out the door. "Because I think she could very well do both right now. Why don't you two smarten up and give her some news about her kids."

She passed him, praying the idiots would take Jack's advice. Then she went directly for the steps leading down to the ground. The sun, already low on the horizon wouldn't be around for long. Nights were cooler in North Carolina, with a hint of fall in the breeze. She turned her face to the brushing wind and the fading sun and blinked back the bite of tears in her eyes. God she was a mess.

A fountain and a goldfish pond centered the perfectly landscaped grounds and she went directly to it. The perimeter of the Better-Homes-And-Garden yard eased into thick trees and, Lauren suspected, a walled security fence with guards beyond that. Nothing like being hog-tied while having her heart ripped out.

An apt description for her situation.

Jack kept pace with her and she spoke low, where only he could hear, making sure she faced away from the house. These kind of people read lips and she didn't want them to know what she had to say. "Do you think they can hear us now?"

"Technology wise it's possible. Odds are they aren't that equipped here. This whole situation came about so last minute that I don't think so. Why?"

"First tell me about the Alvarado family in Colombia."

"Lauren, you don't need to do this to yourself."

"Just tell me, Jack. For once be open and don't hold back what you can tell me just because you think it's for my own good, or God forbid, you do what those guys back there do, and coldly calculate and control everything."

He exhaled as her sharp words hit home. "An attempt to rescue the Alvarado family was made, but by the time the operatives reached the family inside the compound, they had been executed."

"And the drug lord who did it, was it Menendez? The man who now has Matt and Mitch?"

"Rumor has it the Colombian drug lord was a peon for Menendez's cartel. Menendez had likely ordered the executions."

"This Rash person. He led the rescue attempt?"

"Yes."

"So my sons are in the hands of brutal killer who is criminally insane, and the government has appointed a man to save my children whose whole purpose is focused on revenge against Menendez?" Tears of frustration and fear flooded her eyes. "My sons aren't important to anyone."

"They are to me." Jack grasped her shoulders, looking into her eyes.

The turmoil she saw, gave testament to the fury of the emotions within him. He might be calm on the outside but inside he was raging.

She drew from that strength and placed her palm over his heart, pressing against the soft cotton of his pullover. "Then help me, Jack. I might know how to reach my sons without alerting Menendez," she whispered, her own heart pounding with hope and fear. Jack had to take her seriously.

"Lauren, this is not-"

"You expect me to wait around for a repeat of the Alvarado family? Just listen to what I have to say. The live CNN interview with him is tomorrow afternoon. Remember Angie saying that Latimoor Live would feature Andreas Miles at his research facility in Peru? If he hasn't cancelled, then we can go in as part of the camera crew. There'd be equipment to hide the weapons and a filming entourage for cover. Matt and Mitch have to be with him. Or we can at least find where they are being held prisoner."

"The US has probably picked up Menendez on satellite by now. Once his plane lands there will be pictures of all activity around the plane, including vehicle arrivals and departures. If they identify the landing site in time then they'll have agents on the ground monitoring as well. If your sons, and I pray, Angie and Rico are removed from the plane and taken somewhere, we should know. But what you're asking to do is to coordinate a high profile government operation with a news reporting team on a case with worldwide ramifications. That's practically impossible."

She grabbed his shirt. "No. Jack. Not the government. Not those guys in the house. But you and a few good men could do it and would do it if one of your own was a prisoner and was about to be executed. I know it. Make the impossible happen, Jack. Save my sons. Don't let them end up dead."

The last thread of control holding back her pain broke and the tears flooded. Her heart hurt so much for those she loved that she could hardly breathe.

Jack didn't answer her as he pulled her into his arms, but he didn't say no either.

Every muscle Roger owned had spasmed and cramped in the two hours he stood without shifting a fraction of an inch from the waist down. The bomb squad was on the scene, as well as several explosive experts from Bragg, sent to consult thanks to some major string pulling by General Dekker. And all of the experts were focused on one thing-saving his ass.

He had no complaints.

Though the full bomb regalia covering him was heavy as a tank. He hoped, but doubted, it would save him if the IED detonated before they disarmed it.

And before the squad could do that, the police had to evacuate the area, shut down the natural gas, and search for other bombs first.

They found two more. One in the bathroom attached the commode flusher and the other in Mari's bedroom, wired to explode when she turned on her bedside lamp.

The sick mind behind the booby traps chilled Roger to the bone. Vindictive. Personal. Lethal. And insanely obsessed. Frank Dugar had declared a war on Mari and just as soon as Roger made it out alive, he was going to war.

It wouldn't be much longer now. An expert was currently working at Roger's feet. He had to hand it to the bomb squad team. There wasn't a rushed bone in their bodies. Every movement was painstakingly slow as if they were in some time warp. Considering every natural instinct was to run like hell, Roger concluded that the men who did this day in and day out had to have titanium balls.

"Commander Lt. Col. Weston, sir. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Was anyone ever ready?

"Just so you know, sir, had you backed away from the trip wire, you would have been a goner. On my count of three, I want you to step back."

"One. Two. Three."

Roger moved back and kept easing back until he exited the front door. The bomb suit was designed to protect against the blast in the front. In the back it provided cushion, especially to the spine, to absorb the shock of impact. With every step he thanked God and then prayed like hell for the man who was still defusing the bomb. Once outside, other members of the bomb squad were there, helping him, leading him off the porch into the yard and removing the bomb suit. He clearly would now live no matter what happened inside, but Roger didn't breathe with any relief until the man he left behind made it out safely as well.