Dangerous Pursuit (OSI Dark Ops #3)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Calliope stared out the window of the OSI jet as it made its final approach to the small international airport nestled along the coast of Santa Marta, Colombia. The sky was bright blue, and the midday sun was high above them and sparkled off the undulating, deep greenish-brown water below.

“Hey, y’all, we’ll be touching down in about five minutes.” Mason’s lazy drawl came over the speaker.

Anyone who underestimated his abilities because of his Texas good-old-boy attitude did so at their own peril.

Viking, Cole, Hawk, and Eddie Calabretta, the newest member of their team, talked amongst themselves at the front of the cabin. Remy, Hawk’s K9 partner, did not accompany them on this op. He was back in Virginia, keeping Cole’s wife and baby boy company.

Calliope snuck another peek at her phone. She’d been checking it repeatedly since they left Florida.

“Still no word on your dad?” Jonathan O’Halleran’s large frame dominated the leather seat across from her .

Compared with all of the guys she worked with, she truly was puny, but they never treated her any differently. As a matter of fact, she was often tasked with some of the trickiest assignments, and she would have it no other way.

“No, but the doctor said it could take a about a week.” Calliope lifted her hip and tucked her phone in her back pocket, then secured her seat belt.

Jonathan was the second oldest of the siblings and was the head of OSI’s PacNW operation. Every OSI operative spent time there going through special training before being assigned to a team. Those eight weeks had tested the bounds of her physical stamina and mental fortitude, but she’d loved every grueling moment of it.

His presence here, with the Dark Ops team, confirmed the highly personal nature of this mission and made her that much more curious.

“I enjoyed meeting your dad when Beck, Cole, and I came to your place to talk to you about working for OSI.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “I got the distinct impression he was a tough guy who can handle pretty much anything thrown his way.”

“Oh, he is definitely that.” She loved any opportunity to brag about her dad. “He’s not just tough. He’s also super smart, can fix anything, and never hesitates to lend a hand when someone in town is struggling. And somehow, he and my granddad—who’s pretty awesome, too—even managed to raise a little girl all by themselves. ”

“And they did a hell of a job, too.” Jonathan’s compliment meant a lot to her.

“Thanks.” Her cheeks heated, and she turned toward the window, relieved he hadn’t asked why her mother wasn’t around.

Not like he needed to. OSI had done a very thorough background check on Calliope before hiring her and probably knew more about that situation than she did. Heck, maybe Jonathan could tell her why her mother took off. Of course, she would never ask him about that, mostly because she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the truth.

Calliope wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to hear the truth.

As if by rote, she set thoughts of her absentee mother aside and focused on the mission.

A few minutes later, they touched down without so much as a bump. Mason taxied OSI’s badass black jet past the main terminal to a large hangar on the opposite end of the tarmac, and it rolled to a smooth stop.

The cabin was filled with the unclicking of seat belts being released, and everyone stood. They all had to tilt their heads to keep from hitting the cabin ceiling.

Calliope stretched up and tugged her tactical backpack from the overhead compartment. She slipped her arms through the straps and stood at the back of the line headed for the door .

Mason was busy in the cockpit doing whatever it was pilots did with all those buttons, switches, and screens. Viking turned the handle on the door and lowered the steps to the asphalt just as the engines were whining to a stop.

Humid air poured into the cabin, and Calliope smiled.

“Ahh, feels like home.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

She waited for all of the guys to exit, then started down the steps.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the sassy little sniper.” A familiar deep voice rumbled across the tarmac.

Almost instinctively, her smart-ass nature kicked in.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the guy with the ugly shirts and stinky-ass cigars.” Calliope adjusted her backpack and tried to ignore the way her tummy flip-flopped at the mere sight of him. Messy hair, scruffy face, and all. “And I prefer badass little sniper. Please try to remember that in the future.”

He looked down at himself, smirked at her, then turned his attention to Jonathan.

“Hey, Lucas.” Jonathan pulled him into one of those aggressive man hugs.

“Good to see you, man.” Lucas clapped his back.

If Calliope hadn’t been watching their interaction so carefully, she would’ve missed the way he closed his eyes and how his smile fell away. But the second the hug ended and he stepped back, the big smile was already back in place.

What’s that about?

“Welcome back to Colombia.” He shook hands with Cole.

“Thanks.” Cole turned to the team. “Lucas, I think you know most of these folks.” He pointed at each of them and said their names. “Eddie Calabretta is the only one you haven’t met.”

“Hey, Eddie.” Lucas reached out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Eddie shook his hand.

Before joining OSI, Eddie and Cole worked black ops for the National Security Agency. Eddie had actually been deep undercover within the Mu?oz cartel for about three years when Cole’s wife was kidnapped by AJ Mu?oz. He’d played a major part in her rescue, even knowing it would blow his cover and make him the target of some really bad dudes.

Cole had wasted no time snapping him right up for the Dark Ops division.

“Why don’t we get your gear unloaded, then we’ll step inside the hangar office.” Lucas pointed at the building over his shoulder. “There’s air-conditioning in there. Might as well enjoy it while we can.”

Mason opened the cargo hatch door, reached in for the small stool, and set it on the ground .

Calliope slid her backpack off and stepped on the stool. She propped her hands on the edge of the opening and pressed herself up until she could scramble into the cargo area. Once inside, she started handing stuff out to her team.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lucas propped his hands on his hips.

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” She twisted to grab Viking’s rifle bag and handed it out to him like it was a sleeping baby.

“Why are you guys making her unload all your damn gear?” He looked around at her teammates, and they all started laughing.

“Something you should know about Calliope—no one makes her do anything.” Cole took his duffle and tactical vest from her. “Isn’t that right, Calliope?”

“That’s damn right.” She turned back in to the cargo area and tugged free the last of the gear. “I am the smallest person on the team and can easily move around in this cramped space. It just makes good sense for me to be the one doing this.”

She appreciated that the guys didn’t treat her any differently than they did each other. Sure, they outsized and outmuscled her—by a lot—but, like Liam Neeson in that movie Taken , Calliope possessed a very particular set of skills. For starters, she was a crack sniper, one of the best in the world, and she had the ability to easily get into places her musclebound colleagues could not. Like the cargo hold of a private jet.

“Last but certainly not least.” She undid the straps securing her rifle and gave it a good once-over. “Be careful with my baby.”

“You know I will be.” Viking reached up, and she placed it in his hands.

Only another sniper knew to treat a work of art like a specially equipped sniper rifle with the reverence it deserved.

Calliope gave a last look around the hold.

“That’s all of it.” She sat on the edge of the opening, swung her legs out, and hopped down. “Thanks, dude.” She relieved Viking of her rifle and hung it over her shoulder.

“Unless y’all need me, I’m going to hang out here while they refuel the plane.” Mason shut the hold door and secured the latch. “I’ll touch base with you before I take off.”

“Sounds good.” Jonathan threw his arm over his cousin’s shoulder, and the two of them chatted quietly as they walked ahead of the group toward the small office.

There were no smiles between them—they both looked very serious. Calliope would’ve given anything to know what they were talking about. Perhaps they were discussing the mission. Shit knows it was deadly serious, especially for those poor girls. But there was something else, something much more personal lurking beneath the surface of this operation.

She could feel it in her bones.

A few minutes later, they were all settled in the office. Calliope hopped up and sat on a credenza in front of a large window that looked out over the tarmac. She wouldn’t normally sit with her back to a window, but Mason was standing next to the plane, which was only about ten feet away.

The fueling crew rolled up, jumped down from the tank truck, and got to work with the speed and efficiency of a Formula One pit crew.

Jonathan waited until everyone had settled into place before speaking.

“As we discussed, Cole is lead on this op. I’m just here because the success of this mission is critical to Lucas and the rest of our family.” After that cryptic statement, Jonathan turned to his cousin. “Lucas, I’m going to turn it over to you so you can brief us on what we need to know.”

“Thanks, and thanks to each of you for being here.” He turned to the group, and his face was deadly serious. And, dammit, it made him even more friggin’ handsome.

Focus, Calliope.

“As you know, the Triano cartel runs one of the most ruthless and deadly sex-trafficking operations in South America. They will kill anyone who gets in their way. No one is safe as long as they’re in business.” His features shifted ever so slightly, and for a split second, she could’ve sworn he went to some very dark place. Then, with a single blink, he was back. “Recently, Rafael Triano has experienced some unforeseen … supply chain issues that have cost him a great deal of time and money.”

“I’m guessing you might have something to do with that?” Cole smirked.

“Possibly.” Lucas crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “Ya see, our boy Rafael has overextended himself financially. I won’t bore you with the details, but he’s spending money he doesn’t have yet, and as a result, his entire organization is one missed shipment away from collapsing.” His eyes scanned the group before him. “We are going to ensure that happens.”

He rolled a whiteboard over where they could all see it and flipped an aerial map down over the top.

“This is the river Rio Palomino.” He picked up a dry-erase marker and dragged it along a curvy river. “A couple of hours after a container ship docked, Sammy tracked a suspicious-looking fishing trawler making its way down the river. Don’t ask me how, but she knew that local fishermen don’t take their boats down that river. Something about the hassle of dealing with varying water depths and not enough fish to make it worth it.”

“Sammy’s level of knowledge is freaky.” Calliope had met her during her training segment and had been bowled over by what she could do with a computer .

“Good thing she’s on our side.” Jonathan had been the one to hire her.

“Unfortunately, she lost sight of the boat here.” Lucas tapped the marker on the map. “As you can see, several trees hang over the water and obstruct the satellite’s view for several hundred yards. Fortunately, we have another option.”

Cole moved up to stand on the other side of the board. “Eddie and Calliope, you’ll pose as a couple on their honeymoon who are paying Lucas to give you a helicopter tour of the area.”

“I fly over that area all the time, so no one will think anything of it.” Lucas tossed the marker back into the tray at the bottom of the board. “I’m assuming they’ve put in a dock somewhere along the river that they used to unload the girls. Once we know where it is or where they’re holding the girls, we’ll boat in, offload about four or five clicks away, then make the rest of the trip on foot. It’s important to note that entire section of the jungle is dense and pretty treacherous. The trees are massive, and we’ll have to use machetes to hack through the foliage.”

“Awesome!” Calliope smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

Lucas looked at her and did a double take. “You think that’ll be fun?”

“Sure.” She lifted one shoulder. “Reminds me of home. ”

He sort of shook his head in disbelief, then, for the next several minutes, he and Cole walked through the details of the op plan. They also went over several critically important backup plans. There was no power struggle between them or chest-thumping displays of ego. On the contrary, they worked well together, as if they’d done so for years.

That was a comfort to Calliope and probably everyone else on the team. Bringing an outsider into their team on the fly could be tricky, but Lucas seemed to know his shit. Which pricked her stupid curiosity gene to the point of annoyance.

“Everybody clear on the plans?” Cole looked from one person to the next, and they each gave a succinct nod. “Good.”

“Excellent.” Lucas clapped his hands together. “Let’s get you guys to your rental house and secure your gear, then we’ll grab something to eat.”

They all hefted their gear bags and rifle cases and walked back out to the front of the hangar.

“I’m going to head out.” Mason ambled over to them with his reflective aviators covering his eyes and his black cowboy hat pulled down low to shield his face from the intense sunlight. “Be safe, and good luck to ya.”

They all shook hands and said their goodbyes. He jogged over to the plane, climbed the steps, and turned to give them a lazy salute before pulling the steps up and securing the door in place .

“I’ve got our rides over here.” They followed Lucas to the far side of the building.

Parked in the shade was a beat-to-shit pickup truck, an older model blue minivan, and a beige sedan with gray patches on one of the back doors.

“Where’d you get these?” Jonathan looked them over.

“I won ’em in a poker game.” He looked at his cousin and smiled. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“If you say so.” Jonathan didn’t sound convinced.

“Why don’t you ride with me, cuz. The rest of you guys can split up however you want.” He tossed a rabbit’s-foot keychain to Cole, who caught it in midair. “That’s to the van. Eddie, this one’s for the car.” He dropped a bottle opener keychain with a single key attached into Eddie’s palm.

“Viking, Hawk, you’re with me.” One side of Cole’s mouth lifted, and he looked at Calliope and Eddie. “You honeymooners can drive together.”

“Got it.” She walked between the car and Lucas’s truck and glanced into the back.

There was a shovel sticking out from beneath an old canvas tarp, and next to it were some black, heavy-duty zip ties. Her gaze lifted from the shovel and moved to Lucas. One of his dark brows lifted, as if daring her to question him about them.

She tilted her head toward the truck bed. “What’s with the shovel? ”

Let it never be said that Calliope Daniels backed down from a challenge.

“Sometimes I need to dig a hole.” He grabbed the door handle, yanked on it, and the door swung open with a low groan.

“And the zip ties?” she asked.

“Sometimes I need to zip-tie things.” With that non-answer, he slid behind the wheel, pulled the door shut, and cranked up the growly engine.

“Asked and answered,” Eddie mumbled as he walked past her, chuckled, and climbed into the driver’s side of the butt-ugly sedan.

“Whatever.” Calliope rolled her eyes, yanked her door open, and climbed inside the hot vehicle.

The last and only time she’d been around Lucas O’Halleran was in the dark of night. Seeing him in broad daylight, close enough to notice how deep blue his eyes were and getting a nose full of the intoxicating combination of his cologne and natural muskiness, stirred up some extremely confusing and not altogether awful feelings inside her. Feelings unlike any she’d experienced before.

“Well, shit,” she muttered to herself as she stared out the side window.

Now was a damned inconvenient time to realize she might have some sort of weird thing for the enigmatic man.