Page 17 of The Team (The Milvus Files #3)

NINE

The set-up for this mission was simple.

Well, as simple as stopping two crazed bioterrorists, plus two extractions, and shooting to kill anyone else who tried to stop them. If Askarov and Gordian skulls weren’t intact by the end of the day was not Rhett’s problem.

He was told whatever means necessary , and apparently, necessary meant calling in some outside help.

Did Rhett trust King?

Normally, he’d say yes.

Whether he liked the man was a different question.

But was something off about this? Was information being withheld from them? Were they sent on a time-wasting mission, risking the lives of civilians, wasting money and the time of the Iranian military?

Yes.

Something wasn’t right.

Something was being withheld, and Rhett was left with no other choice, by any means necessary, to seek outside help .

Someone who could not be compromised or bought. Someone who would find out the truth, someone who would do everything within his power to help. No questions asked.

Harry Harrigan wasn’t happy about being woken up at too-early o’clock, but within seconds, he was up, alert, and more helpful in two minutes than Director King had been in a fucking week.

“Is King compromised?” he’d asked.

“Unsure,” Rhett had replied.

“But enough for you to be asking me,” Harrigan deduced.

“Affirmative.”

“You want Yunho?”

He freaking knew what Rhett wanted without having to ask. “Affirmative.”

“What happened to the kid?”

He’d meant Yixing, the young Chinese kid who was supposed to be some genius hacker who had helped Istomin. He’d been given the option of helping the European Milvus Division headquarters or spend his life in prison. But was he helping? Or hindering?

Rhett had run a hand over his face. “I don’t know. I don’t know how deep or far this runs. Is the kid not doing his job, or is his information being intercepted?”

“Fuck.”

“Something’s not right. This mission is big. Makes Istomin look like a petty fucking thief. And it’s related.”

“Related? To Istomin?”

“His name was on that list, yes. Yunho will know more. Well, I hope he fucking does. I feel like I’m flying blind.

Look, if I told you who’d been added to my team just days before deploying and in which country I’m calling you from, you’d.

..” Rhett shook his head. “Well, you’d understand my concern.

There’s too much red fucking tape. Milvus was supposed to be above all that bullshit, and this is about to go sideways and they’re not telling me shit. ”

Rhett heard Asher say something in the background, then Harry said, “Okay. The line’s open.”

The next voice Rhett had heard was Yunho’s. “Captain,” he said smoothly. “I trust you are safe to talk?”

“Yes.”

“Then please, darling, care to explain what the hell you’re doing in Iran?”

“Jesus Christ,” Harry had mumbled.

“Kinda hoping you could tell me,” Rhett had replied. “And I’m hoping like all fuck you can tell me what’s really going on with this whole case. Because I’ve got two missing men, two new teammates who may or may not be planted, and I don’t know who the fuck I’m working for.”

Rhett could hear the clicking of fingers on a keyboard. “Oh dear,” he said. “It is quite the mess, isn’t it?”

But then Rhett heard soldiers outside. “I have to go.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

“We’re wheels up within the hour,” he’d said, and ended the call just as the soldiers came in.

They stopped talking, stopped smiling, and stared. Rhett gave them a nod, washed his hands, and walked out. He went back into the mess hall, where everyone was seated around, cleaning weapons and repacking kits.

“Okay, team,” Rhett said, calling for everyone’s attention.

“Just gonna tell you like it is. As of this very minute, I’m not entirely sure who the fuck is in charge so I’m gonna take strategic lead.

Something’s wrong at HQ. If anyone has a problem with that, you can side with the director.

No hard feelings. I get it, I understand, I will not take it personally. ”

The Alpha Two team looked amongst themselves, looked to Giardello, searching for some guidance. Rhett’s team, on the other hand, all smiled. Sid clapped. “Hell fucking yes I’m in.”

Jay gave him a proud smile, and it burned warm behind Rhett’s ribs, giving him the reassurance he needed.

Rhett turned to Giardello. “I get it if you don’t want in on this, no hard feelings. But they’re withholding information, and I cannot sit by and do nothing while two of my team are being used as petri dishes by terrorists.”

Giardello held his gaze for a long moment. “Let us hear what you got first.”

Rhett gave him a nod. That was fair enough. Rhett would want to know what he was signing his team up for before as well. And, if Giardello ran this back to King, then at least Rhett would know who the traitors were.

He turned back to his team. “I’ve got some intel incoming from an outside source, which will be a damn sight better than what we’ve been fed.

It’s our asses on the line here, so we’re gonna be calling the shots.

We have two objectives,” Rhett said, holding up two fingers.

“One, take down these fucking terrorists, and two, bring my two men home.”

Coyote clapped this time. “Hoo-fucking-yah.”

Sid gave a hard nod. “Let’s do this. Whatever the fuck it takes.”

“I’m down,” Azrael added.

“You know I am,” Echo said .

Jay didn’t need to say anything. He just smiled at Rhett like he hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Yin sighed. “I have broken three rules in my life, and all three of those times have been since I joined this team.” He shrugged. “What’s one more?”

Chen grinned and pointed his thumb at Yin. “I go where he goes.”

Giardello looked at his team, at their expressions, and then he sighed. “I guess we’re in.”

“Awesome,” Rhett said, finally feeling positive about this whole mess. “Let’s make ourselves a ready room.”

Minutes later, Yunho had set up a secure portal, sent through an access code, and Rhett had everything on the screen in front of his entire team.

Real-time satellite footage of the private research lab and of where Kowalski and Myles were being held.

They had photos of Askarov and Gordian and their location down to the second, and what security they’d be up against. They also had proof of purchases of some kind of spectrometer and nuclei counters; equipment required for specific aerosol production.

And financial transactions, actual fucking proof — and who Gordian had ties to.

Those assholes now had taps on their phones and digital signatures.

If they send it, speak it, even fucking think it, Milvus will know.

Yunho had given him the Taj Mahal of information in a matter of minutes.

This was what they should have been working with.

This was what headquarters should have given Rhett from the start.

He added a third thing to his strategy plan.

One, take the terrorists out and secure the lab. Two, get Kowalski and Myles back. And now three, find out whoever railroaded their mission and gut them like a fucking fish.

Within twenty minutes, they had a solid strategy and a contingency plan. They had routes, transport, weapons, and targets.

Everyone suited up. Full combat gear, vests, weapons, masks and helmets.

Rhett was securing his thigh pistol when the door opened with a clang and the familiar tap of Director King’s cane on the wooden floorboards.

Rhett offered no more than a perfunctory glance before turning to Sid.

“Locked and loaded,” he said. “Wheels up in five.”

Sid gave a nod and, ignoring King, he and Echo picked up their gear.

“What do you think you’re doing?” King asked. “Did I just see Agents Masson and Velasco leave the compound? Who authorised that?”

Sid and Echo didn’t even pause, like Rhett knew they wouldn’t.

“I did,” Rhett replied. “And what am I doing? My job.”

It was only then King seemed to notice what was on the screens. His expression grew wild. “What is this? What the fuck is this? Where did you get this?”

Rhett would have probably liked to have enjoyed the moment of watching King flounder, but Rhett was in go-mode. Shit was about to get really fucking real and he was zoned in.

Getting nothing from Rhett, King turned to Giardello. “Who authorised this?”

Giardello said nothing, but his eyes went to Rhett before he turned to his team. “Let’s get the birds loaded. ”

King’s face went red, his eyes bulging, nostrils flared. “Agent Ouston, you will stand down immediately!”

“You’re not in charge here,” Rhett said calmly. “You wanna court martial me, you can fucking do it when I get back. But we are gone in four minutes, and you’ll need to shoot me to stop me.”

The room went silent, and figuring King was done—or maybe he was actually considering shooting Rhett—Rhett turned to Yin and Chen, who were standing very much on Rhett’s side. “Let’s get this done.”

“Who authorised you?” King screamed.

Rhett spun around and yelled right back at him. “I did! I was authorised when my orders were whatever means necessary . And this”—he pointed to the screens of satellite images and data—“is me getting my own fucking intel, by any means goddamned necessary.”

“You went over my head?—”

“You’re damn right I fucking did. Your head, and whatever bullshit headquarters is feeding you, King.

We were set up to fail. And if you’re not in it, then you were set up too.

Within twenty minutes, I have every piece of information we should have had from the beginning.

Twenty minutes, one phone call. So if you wanna help, find out who the fuck tried to sabotage us and who the fuck we’re actually working for. ”

Rhett could see King process this, the possibilities, the conversations he must have had, and Rhett could see the pieces clicking into place. He wanted to believe King was innocent in this, but he couldn’t be sure.

Jay came up to Rhett’s side with his phone to his ear. “Captain, the White House is now involved, and Russia just went airborne. We need to leave. Now. ”

Holy fuck.

Then Jay held the phone out to King. “Asher Garin would like a word.”

King, now an unhealthy mix of red and grey, stared at the phone before he took it. Rhett turned for the door, kinda wishing he could listen to that conversation, but they were out of time.

They ran for the chopper.

“Director Ericson King,” Asher said, his voice eerily sweet. “So nice to finally speak to you. We have a situation on our hands, and you are either one of two things. You are either complicit, or you are being misled like the Milvus team.”

King stammered for a second. “I don’t know what the hell is going on. I haven’t been told jack fucking shit. Everything I’ve been told, I’ve relayed directly to Ouston.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” Asher replied.

“Because Captain Ouston and his little Medic Lin are good friends of ours; I’m rather fond of them.

Should anything happen to them because you knowingly put their lives in danger.

..” Asher sighed as if he had all the time in the world.

“Well, that won’t end well for you if we have to come over there. ”

King let out a short breath, then another, his mind reeling. Did he just get threatened by Asher Garin?

“I don’t know what’s going on,” King said again. “But I am not complicit in any of this. I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I’m in the fucking dark.”

“You don’t normally attend the team on location? ”

“No. I just assumed because of the scale of this, they wanted me on the ground.”

Asher was quiet then, and the next voice he heard was deep, gruff, and Australian. “Director King,” he said. It had to be Harrigan. “Do you believe in coincidences?”

King wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

“You got Yixing, the Chinese wonder-kid as your intel hub, and then you have Commander Zihao walk in, drop two fucking Sea Dragons into your goddamned Milvus team, and suddenly your intel goes to shit. In my line of work, we don’t call that a coincidence. We call that evidence.”

Fuck.

What could King say? That it wasn’t his fault? It wasn’t his doing? He too was just following orders? Did it look suspect? Yes.

Did he trust his office to do full background check on Zihao, Yin, and Chen? Of course.

Well . . .

He hoped they had.

Did that information go through Yixing? Fuck.

But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

Because Ouston was right. Rhett Ouston was a good agent, and King trusted him.

“Milvus is compromised,” Harrigan said. “Someone in your council wanted you in Iran to get you out of their way, and now the United States and the fucking Kremlin are inbound. And believe me when I tell you, they’re not coming to help. The bidding war for the bioweapon has begun.”

King felt the blood drain from his face, his heart sank, and his stomach roiled. “What do you want me to do? ”

“I’m going to put you back through to the man with the answers. And while you’re talking to him, you’re gonna go find the Iranian commanding officer and evacuate that military base.”

“Evacuate . . . ?”

“An Iranian military base being bombed won’t even make the six o’clock news, but it’s a sure good way to get rid of witnesses,” Harrigan said. “Along with two teams of kite operatives and one director of an organisation, none of which officially exist. You need to get everyone out.”

King swallowed loudly. “Jesus Christ.”

“Well, he does have a bit of a god complex,” Harrigan said. “But you can call him Yunho. And if you want to live, you’ll do everything he says.”