Page 22 of France Face-Off (Brotherhood Protectors International #6)

When the plane landed at the airport near Greifswald, Germany, Striker could barely wait for the steps to be lowered before he leaped to the ground.

Lucie had said she’d send a car to pick him up and take him to where Alex’s tracking device had stopped. The only vehicle waiting for him on the tarmac was a sleek black Ferrari sports car. As he ran toward it, Lucie filled him in via the communications headset.

“It appears she’s at the substation where the Nord Stream pipeline connects with the pipe that runs under the Baltic Sea,” Lucie said. “There will be guards on the gate. I have someone who wants to talk to you. I’m adding him to this call.”

A moment later, a familiar voice sounded in his ear. “Striker, Ace Hammerson here.”

“Nice of you to finally acknowledge your existence,” Striker said as he strode toward the sports car.

“I would’ve called earlier, but I needed all hands on deck in Edinburgh, including me, to manage a situation.

My flight from Edinburgh has been diverted to the airport at Greifswald.

We’ll be landing shortly. We sent another Brotherhood Protector over from Berlin to assist you in breaching the facility.

He’s a former Navy SEAL on loan to us from the Colorado office, John Griffin.

He’s been working a mission in Berlin, just wrapped it up and was about to fly back to the States. ”

Navy SEALs were members of a small, tight-knit community. If he hadn’t fought alongside each one, he might have trained with, or at the very least, heard of others. “I’ve heard of Griff,” Striker said. Everyone had heard of Griff, the sole survivor of a mission that had gone terribly wrong.

“He’s a good man,” Ace said. “Lucie is looking into setting off an alarm inside the substation that will get the people inside to evacuate. If that happens, the confusion should allow you to get in easier with less collateral damage. Since you’re in Germany and the Germans are considered allies, we can’t risk sending in a large team to recover Alex unless absolutely necessary.

I urge you not to take any more lives than are necessary.

I’d prefer no lives were lost in this effort. ”

“Understood,” Striker said as he reached the vehicle. He didn’t like going into a hot situation with someone he hadn’t worked with before, but, since the man was a former SEAL, he could make it work.

As he neared the sports car, he noticed a man sitting in the driver’s seat.

It had to be Griff. Striker rounded the vehicle, opened the passenger door and folded himself into the seat.

He turned to the man behind the steering wheel and held out his hand.

“Nice ride. Dane Ryan. My teammates called me Striker.”

The man looked familiar in the light from the dashboard. He shook Striker’s hand. “John Griffin. Ace Hammerson sent me. He said you’re a former Navy SEAL.”

Striker nodded. “I am.”

“I thought your name sounded familiar.” Griff started the engine and shifted into drive. “Although I don’t think we were ever on a mission together.”

“Not that I recall.” Striker stared at the man whose face was illuminated by the lights on the dash. “I’m sorry about your team. I trained with two of the men who died on that mission.”

Griff’s lips pressed together. “It was a shit show. We lost some great frogmen. But I’m here to make sure we don’t lose another. I’ll have your back.”

“And I yours,” Striker promised.

Griff handed him a tracking device.

Striker studied it eagerly, feeling just a little bit closer to rescuing Alex just by seeing on the map where she was located. The device was new and appeared expensive. “How long have you worked for the Brotherhood?”

“A couple of years now. However, I’m now based out of the Colorado office, working with Jake Cogburn, another former Navy SEAL. I’ve got a good team to work with.”

“And a great location. I’ve been there a couple of times skiing.”

“I love it there.” Griff drove away from the airport. “I hear you’re a new hire for the Brotherhood Protectors International Division. The assignments are a little different, and working with a multi-national team has to be interesting.”

“I’m only just beginning to understand that,” Striker said. “I didn’t know I was working for the Brotherhood until earlier today. I thought I was working as a mercenary for a mysterious woman who called herself Lucie.”

Griff chuckled. “Ah, Lucie. I’ve learned you can’t judge a hacker by her hair color. But for someone so young, she’s super smart and knows her shit.”

“How old is she?”

“I think she just turned twenty-two,” Griff shook his head. “She changed her hair color from blue to purple for the occasion.”

“I’d never have guessed. On the phone, she sounds so...”

“Normal?” Griff grinned.

“I pictured a middle-aged female Bosley, like on Charlie’s Angels, when I spoke with her on the phone.”

Griff laughed out loud. “She’d love that.

I met her in Zurich prior to my mission in Berlin.

She’s kind of goth, has piercings and colorful hair.

Dmytro introduced her to Ace on one of their earlier missions, and she’s been with them ever since.

She’s highly adept at breaching firewalls and getting to data. ”

“She might be good at what she does, but I wasn’t happy that she didn’t tell me who I was working for until today.” Striker shrugged. “However, I’m relieved to know we’re working for Ace Hammerson and Hank Patterson, not some random mercenary organization.”

“Yeah, had Ace had the opportunity and time, he would’ve brought you on board himself. He and the rest of their team were busy in Edinburgh in the middle of a war between two mafia gangs.”

Striker nodded. “I get that. I’m just glad Ace sent someone to assist me on this mission. What do we have to work with?”

“You’re already set with comm. I’ve been listening in on Lucie’s sitrep.

In the trunk, we have everything we might need, including weapons, camouflage, C-4, duct tape and zip ties.

Like Ace said, we can’t go in shooting everything that moves.

We’re to get in, extract our target and get out with as little commotion as we can manage.

From what we understand, the facility is rigged with an extensive video surveillance system.

Lucie’s working to shut that down before we arrive.

Apparently, their transfer system has been compromised, and the flow of natural gas has come to a complete halt. ”

“Then they’ll have all hands on deck. That should make it more difficult to get inside.”

Griff nodded. “We just have to get past the gate guards. Once inside, we can use the C-4 to handle any door locks.” He reached behind the seat, pulled out a handgun and passed it to Striker. “In case you have no other choice.”

Striker inspected the weapon in the light from the dash. The 9 mm Glock was a pistol he was familiar with. The magazine was loaded and ready to go.

Griff handed Striker a couple of extra loaded magazines.

“How far is this place?” Striker asked.

“About twenty minutes. It’s located on the coast. We can park a mile away and go in on foot or take our chances and drive right up to the gate. The car will get their attention.”

“Let’s do a combination of the two alternatives.

I don’t want to waste time going in on foot.

You can let me out a few yards ahead of the gate.

While you distract the guard with the Ferrari, I’ll take him out.

” He held up his hands. “Let me rephrase. I’ll subdue him.

You can be ready with the duct tape and zip ties. ”

Griff grinned. “Deal. It pays to show up in a cool car.”

Thankfully, darkness had descended on northern Germany, giving them the concealment they’d need to infiltrate the facility.

A couple of miles from their destination, Griff pulled the sports car off the road, popped the trunk and got out.

They pulled on black coveralls with multiple pockets located on the sleeves and pant legs.

They had a choice of camouflage sticks to blacken their faces or ski masks.

Both men chose the camo sticks and quickly painted their faces and hands so that they wouldn’t stand out in the darkness.

They added black body armor vests and stuffed what they needed into the pockets on the vests and in the coveralls.

“How did Lucie get her hands on C-4 and detonators?” Striker asked.

“She didn’t. Dmytro makes this kind of magic. Having worked as a mercenary, the man knows people all over Europe,” Griff responded. “If you ask, his canned response is that he has contacts. Legal or otherwise, he gets the job done.”

Striker shoved a small brick of the clay-like explosives into his vest along with a detonator and trigger device.

He clipped a smoke grenade to a loop and stuffed the extra magazines for the handgun into an easily accessible pocket.

After staring longingly at a submachine gun and an AR-15 rifle equipped with sights, he passed over those for duct tape, zip ties and a Ka-Bar knife.

Once they were set, they climbed back into the Ferrari and drove to within a couple of hundred yards of the facility.

The cellphone interface in the Ferrari rang. Griff pressed the button to receive the call. “Video surveillance system has been disengaged,” Lucie reported.

“Good,” Griff said. “We’re going in.”

Griff slowed enough for Striker to jump out, and then continued to the gate, moving slowly enough that Striker could catch up quickly.

Striker jogged along, checking his equipment for noise and securing anything that might alert the guard to his approach.

Thankfully, the rumble of the sports car’s engine helped to mask whatever noise his equipment might make.

He swung wide of the road, crossed through a field and eased up to the guard shack at the gate as Griff slowed the Ferrari to a stop.

The guard stepped out.

Griff whispered into Striker’s earbud. “Only one guard.”