Chapter 16

The next morning, Jackson sipped at his third cup of coffee. He'd spent most of the night awake, waiting to hear the phone ring. His retrieval team touched down in Rinamda late last night. He'd had to make quite a few phone calls with the Rinamdian embassy and military personnel so that his men could even go there in the first place. Lucky for him, Columbine was native to Sarias. Convincing the Rinamdian government to let his men and him run a retrieval and arrest mission went over a lot better when the individual was from Sarias instead of Rinamda.

Every half an hour, his team reported in with updates. Right now they were still tracking the Columbine, but with slow success.

"Sir, would you like something to eat?" Avery stood in front of his desk. She had a focused look on her face—one she often gave him right before she demanded he drink, eat, or go outside.

Having worked with her long enough, he could take a hint. "A protein bar or a bagel would be nice."

Right answer. She left with a gentle smile, one that soothed his twitchy insides just a little. Between the lack of sleep and coffee, he'd been twitchy all morning.

Avery came back with a bagel and cream cheese and a glass of orange juice, which she sat down in front of him.

"Sir, I've been thinking..." She sat down in the chair in front of his desk. Today her hair was down, the dark tresses brushing her shoulders. He loved when she wore her hair down. It was silky and smooth and matched her thick framed glasses nicely. "Something here doesn't quite add up for me."

He'd had the same feeling all morning. That was partially why he was so twitchy. Everything seemed to fall right into place—something his instincts never liked. Until the confession sprouted from Columbine's lips, that feeling would not go away. He'd had a few cases that easy, for sure, like the vandalism case off the East River—some kid with a hatred for the military kept spray painting his men's vehicles. They caught him, and that was the end of that. But this one...

"If this man is smart enough to block his number, and make his cell phone untraceable, he's got enough smarts with technology to be aware of a few cameras." Avery bit at her bottom lip in that way she did when she was nervous.

Jackson frowned. "This guy has been documented stealing the clothes. If it's not him, we can at least get information out of him."

"I have a bad feeling about this." Avery admitted. So did he. "What do we do?"

Jackson snatched up his landline and stabbed at the numbers. "For now? We wait for the retrieval team to bring Columbine in. Hopefully that'll be the end of it." He set the cold phone to his ear. "Darius? Yes, I..."

***

Later. Around 7pm.

Hours passed. When the sun had slid all the way past the horizon and the sky had begun to darken, Jackson's satellite phone beeped.

He was on it within seconds, punching in the numbers. "Jackson. Go."

"Commander, this is Agent Ronsby checking in for report."

"What took you so long?" He growled. "This check-in is an hour past its scheduled time."

"I understand, Sir." Ronsby said. "We had to go dark much longer than anticipated."

"And?"

"Subject is in custody. Two men were injured—flesh wounds, both quick in-and-out shots."

The commander rubbed at his temple. From the corner of his eye, Avery looked on, worried. "I'll need a report on that. He give you trouble?"

"A bit more than expected—seems whoever gave this guy money to run also gave him a way to acquire a semi-automatic."

"He try to run?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Where is he now?"

"The team and the subject are en route, Sir."

That might not be enough time. If this truly was the guy they were after, he needed to know now. If not, then things would get much, much worse. Jackson had done his homework on stalkers—the second they feel threatened, they surge for attack. On the off chance Columbine wasn't their guy, their real guy may just pull a move.

"I need Agron to pull information from him. Make sure he's working alone." He commanded.

"Sir? Agron is—"

The team's torture expert. "I know. Tell him to use force if necessary."

Then he clicked off, praying to God his instincts and Avery's were wrong.

***

Not an hour later, the satellite phone chirped again.

This time it was Agron on the other side of the line. "Sir, Columbine is talking."

Already? He imagined someone with a semi-automatic would have lasted longer than that. If he was willing to do damage to his team and fight back, wouldn't he be stubborn and neglect giving information? Some men just didn't have a pair he guessed.

"How far did you go?" As Commander, it was his job to know the ins-and-outs of every move his team made. Even if the details weren't pretty.

"Sir, if I can be honest, that was the shortest session I've ever had." Argon replied. "After the intimidation phase, I didn't have to touch him. He was ready to talk."

"Columbine confirmed he was given the weapon and the money to escape." Argon continued. "His source had set up a set of payments that would go through as the tasks were performed."

His source. Goddammit, Columbine wasn't working alone. "Tasks?"

"That was the part that tripped me. Columbine was pretty scared and somewhat out of it—he'd taken a head hit during retrieval. Nothing major, just a concussion probably. Either way, he spouted something about three tasks, each which involve some type of payment afterward. The first were the clothes, the second the escape, and the third a distraction."

Jackson gripped the phone tighter. "His source wanted us away and distracted so he could move in."

"Yes, Sir."

"We were quicker than he thought, then." Thank God for that. He'd spoken to Darius not too long ago. His sister and the prince were exactly where they were supposed to be. "He give up a name?"

"No, Sir. Columbine insists he never worked with a name—only a code name."

"Any idea if the codename will lead anywhere?"

"I'm not sure. It didn't mean much to any of the guys but maybe it will to you."

Jackson snatched up a pen and paper. "What was it?"

"The Assistant."

His fingers moved on their own accord and it wasn't until the last letter had been written that his mind clicked.

Motherfucker.

"Argon, get the team back as soon as possible. Send Avery your ETA."

"Yes, Sir."

He clicked off, rising swiftly from his chair. "Avery," He called out rather loudly. He needed to move. "Get Daniels to pull the car out front. Immediately."

"Commander?" Aver glanced up in confusion.

"Do it, Avery." He snapped.

Sat phone. Have to keep the sat phone. On autopilot, his hands found the phone and the gun in the bottom drawer. He inserted the magazine and tucked it into his waistband.

"Sir, your vest." Avery pointed to the wardrobe in the corner containing all his uniforms and major gear. He didn't have time to lace up boots nor did he need camouflage, but there always had to be time for a bulletproof vest.

He worked the velcro straps on the navy vest quickly and efficiently. "Get Darius on the line. Have him call me. Tell him I'm en route."

"Of course, Sir."

Jackson swiftly marched toward the door.

"Jackson?" Avery's quiet voice stopped him--just barely.

He turned.

"Please be careful."

A nod. Then he fled out the door to go get the asshole stalking his little sister.