Cindy Dees: Special Forces: The Spy

A bolt of envy for Susan and regret for opportunities lost shot through Piper’s gut at the sight of Jack. Longing for a child tugged at her—longing for a family of her own. She’d have thought she would be over the sense of hollow emptiness for the children she would never have by now, given the career she’d picked. But it turned out biological clocks were powerful little bastards.

It had been a trade-off, and she’d made her choice. She had arguably one of the coolest jobs on the planet. But the sacrifice in return was no time for a private life.

In point of technical fact, she supposed a personal life was possible. But that would entail finding a man who didn’t mind his partner being a lethally trained special operator, prone to running off at a moment’s notice to who knew where to face who knew what danger.

The only man besides her boss who even knew the Medusas existed at this point was Captain Beau Lambert, the Medusas’ operations officer. And her teammate, Tessa Wilkes, had that man locked down tight. The two of them were engaged and had set a wedding date next year. They made a great couple. Goo-goo eyes flew thick and fast whenever they were in the same room.

But that left her without any eligible prospects in the love department.

“I like riding in your car, Miss Piper.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cuz your car doesn’t have a back seat, and I get to sit in front.”

“When you get bigger, your mom will let you sit in front with her.”

“That’s what she says. I’m eatin’ as much as I can so I’ll get big really fast.”

“Patience, grasshopper. You’ll be all grown-up before you know it. Enjoy being a kid while you can.”

“Don’t you like being a grown-up?”

“I do most of the time. But it’s a lot easier being a kid. And more fun.”

“My mama says you have a super boring job.”

Piper mentally snorted. If Susan only knew the truth. The poor woman would run screaming from Piper. She smiled serenely. “I like my job.”

“Lucky dog. I hate school. I suck at it.”

“You do not. I happen to know you rock at all your subjects.”

“School’s boring.”

“Maybe you’re just too smart for the first grade.”

“Mama says I’m smarter than my teacher.”

Piper laughed, “I can believe it.”

They pulled up in front of Southdown Elementary School, a dark redbrick building that Piper privately thought looked more like a prison than a school. As Jack jumped out, she called after him, “Have a good day. And behave yourself!”

He flashed her an impudent grin and dashed inside.

She made it nearly halfway to the TSV before she happened to glance down and spied a brown paper bag on the floor of the passenger side of the car.

Rats. Jack had forgotten his lunch.

If she hit the stoplights exactly right, she had just enough time to zip back to his school, run his lunch inside and make it to the training site on time. The Medusas’ commanding officer, Major Gunnar Torsten, had no sense of humor whatsoever when it came to tardiness.

Classes had started by the time she got back to the elementary school, and the drop-off area was deserted. Parking quickly, she grabbed Jack’s lunch and hurried inside. To the left of the front door was a large glassed-in office that looked like a reception area lined with institutional, Formica-topped desks. Several women sat at them. A little girl who looked about eight years old stood beside one, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Piper stepped inside. “Is this where I drop off a lunch a student has forgotten?”

“Yes, ma’am. Just a minute.” The gray-haired woman who answered her went back to talking with the child. “Your mom says she’ll be here in ten minutes with your inhaler—” The woman broke off, staring at something behind Piper.

A flurry of movement in the hallway outside caught Piper’s attention out the corner of her eye. Something—someone—adult-sized had just run past.

Was there a problem?

As she turned to take a better look, a man dressed all in black with a black ski mask over his face burst into the office. Piper flipped into combat mode in a millisecond, her senses going on high alert and adrenaline rushing to all her muscles.

She noted several things at once. The weapon, held across the man’s body, was an AK-47 with an extended mag, and he handled it like he was familiar with it. He was a shade over six feet tall. Athletic in build. Moved fast and silently, rolling from heel to toe with each step. Like a Special Forces operator.

“Everybody down!” he shouted.

The three women at their desks started to scream, and the little girl awaiting the inhaler froze, staring up at the man in openmouthed terror, like a rabbit in front of a wolf.

Stunned, Piper dropped to the floor with the other women. She was unarmed, alone and had no idea how many more men like this there were already inside the school. Terror and panic exploded in her gut in spite of all her Special Forces training.

God. Not a school shooting. A worst-case scenario on all counts. Nonexpendables everywhere— children —completely unequipped to defend themselves from harm. Targets handily clustered together in classrooms. Limited egress points. Even more limited sight lines. Chaos guaranteed.

Tragedy guaranteed.

By force of will and outstanding training, she pushed back all the paralyzing feelings and focused on acting.

Surreptitiously, she eased her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and dialed 9-1-1 by feel. She stuffed the phone under her hip lest the armed man brandishing the AK-47 hear the operator ask what the nature of her emergency was and kill her before she could answer.

She eased her hip off the phone and shouted, “What do you want, barging into an elementary school with an automatic weapon like that?”

“Quiet, or I’ll kill you!” the man shouted back. “Where’s Mrs. Black?”

“She’s out sick today,” one of the other women quavered from the floor.

Piper eased back on top of the phone, praying the emergency operator had gotten the idea and called for the SWAT team. And the FBI and the National Guard and whoever else could be called.

Standoffs with kids caught in the middle were no picnic, but maybe when law enforcement got here, they could negotiate some sort of hostage release.

She calculated her options at the speed of light. She could probably take out the lone armed man—she did have all the necessary unarmed-combat training and the element of surprise on her side.

Question was, where were the other men she’d peripherally seen racing past, and how many of them were there? If she got the weapon away from this one, she could go hunting for the others...although hunting in a building full of children and teachers would be a dreadful environment for taking out bad guys. The odds of shooting an innocent bystander were far too high to risk.

As those thoughts darted through her mind, the armed man did an odd thing. He strode over to the little girl, grabbed her by her upper arm, glanced around, then led her over to a tall wooden coat cabinet against the wall.

He opened the door, pushed her inside and said low, “Stay in there until the police come for you and don’t make a sound until then.”

Piper stared, so confused she momentarily forgot her terror. Did the intruder just save that little girl? Why on earth would an armed assailant do something like that?

He shut the closet door just before two more men raced into the office, dressed like him and similarly armed. Terrorist the First nodded tersely at his buddies.

What in the hell was this about? What did a bunch of men, attired and armed like bank robbers, want with a freaking elementary school?