Forever by Janie Crouch
Chapter Six
Ethan
Three hours to go.I’d been counting down every hour on the hour since waking up. It was a twelve-hour flight from DC to Moldova, and once we put wheels down, there wouldn’t be much time for sleep.
So I’d forced myself to sleep, or at least put myself into a state of conserving physical and mental energy, a trick I’d learned as a SEAL.
It was harder this time, knowing the mission centered around the most important part of my world. But I would do anything for Jess. If that meant conserving my energy now so I was at full strength once we hit the ground, I’d do that too, hard as it might be.
And it was hard. The adrenaline in my system, surging from thinking about what Jess could be going through, demanded an outlet. I could drop and do two hundred pushups or run ten miles and still have plenty of energy leftover.
My body had one goal: get my woman to safety. It didn’t understand the wait.
But my mind controlled my body. So I locked that shit down and forced myself to rest. My body would get the chance to do what it wanted once there was an enemy to face.
At least the private jet Ian had provided was comfortable, far more luxurious than any military transport I’d ever flown in. That helped with the resting. Flying twelve hours on a thin metal seat with earplugs shoved in, as was the life of a SEAL, made relaxing harder.
The rest of the team was toward the front of the plane, including two other former SEALs, Landon Black and Isaac Baxter. They were a good deal older than me, but they were in good shape, and I had no doubt they could hold their own. And they came with Ian’s recommendation. He’d worked with both of them a long time.
I trusted Uncle Ian with my life. And that was what was at stake here. My life. Because Jess was my life. Ian wouldn’t send anyone he didn’t think was capable of doing this job.
Forcing my thoughts away from Jess, I closed my eyes. But that didn’t help. When I shut them, I imagined the worst that could be happening to her. Injury, torture, and darker, viler things. Just the thoughts made my vision tint red and my knuckles go white around the plane’s armrests. They nearly creaked with the strain.
She was fine.
She had to be fine.
I wasn’t going to lose her before I’d had an opportunity to tell her that I was hers. Wholly and completely. I thought she’d known, but these past two months, I’d been more distant, biding my time as I worked out my plan . . .
Nothing was more important than getting her to safety so I could win her back properly. I wanted to sink into her and never come up for air. The second I found her, I’d be tempted to wrap Jess in my arms and never let go, even when we needed to move quickly.
And that was the reason they didn’t send entangled people on missions like this. I needed to keep myself in check. I would keep myself in check.
Survival first. Always.
Everything else, including dragging Jess to the nearest bed and making love to her until we couldn’t figure out where one of us ended and the other began, had to be secondary.
I stood, stretching my legs, looking back at the others. The fourth man on the team was a mystery. Harold MacQueen. Nigel Kramer had insisted on his presence on the mission. The entire time we’d stayed at that house in Falls Church, Kramer hadn’t calmed down for a second. By the time we’d left for the airfield, I’d been worried he was going to blow an artery.
MacQueen had shown up just before we were about to leave, and there’d been something about him from the get-go I hadn’t liked. Nothing obvious, just a gut feeling. Ian had had the same one, pulling me aside as we got on the jet and letting me know he was gathering more intel on MacQueen.
But unless we got confirmation he was working against us, we’d have to trust him to a degree. It was going to take all four of us to get the hostages out safely.
Ian had wanted to be part of the mission, too, but had benched himself because of old injuries. Plus, he was more useful making sure we got the intel we needed.
“Ethan,” Isaac’s voice reached me from the front of the plane, “got some more info.”
I walked back and joined them around the table. Frankly, I wasn’t used to planes having tables, but it was easier than crouching over crumpled maps.
And we weren’t looking at paper. We were looking at a large tablet showing a portion of the Moldovan countryside. “Most recent intel has the hostages here.” Isaac pointed to a spot on the screen. “It’s a mill. Been empty for a decade, but there are some nearby farms.”
“What places them there?”
“Satellites mostly,” Landon answered. “There was surveillance in the area, and it caught the path of the van.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised. “That’s lucky.”
Landon smiled grimly. “It was lucky that they caught the van’s path, but I’ve heard of stranger things. Most of eastern Europe is under satellite surveillance. Which is good for us.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Good to not go in blind. Good to have anything at all.”
MacQueen sighed. “But that’s where the good news ends.”
I looked at Isaac. I wanted my news from him or Landon, not MacQueen.
“Unfortunately, he’s right. That mill has a lot of tactical advantages, definitely why they chose it. It’s on high ground, and from what we can gather, the walls are stone. It’s well built and they’ve got defenses set up.”
Isaac brought up a slightly blurry image—a top-down view of the location—and pointed to what looked like mounted guns. “The location is easily defensible. And since they’re surrounded by active farms, it’s less suspicious than being somewhere completely isolated.”
I scrubbed my hand through my cropped hair, poring through all the information I had and trying to make it fit. An all-out assault wouldn’t work. We would need stealth and a surprise if we were going to do it. “Anything going for us?”
Landon nodded. “One thing. Looks like it’s a skeleton crew.”
They wouldn’t need a lot of manpower when they had so many other tactical advantages.
Isaac leaned back in his seat. “Here’s what we’re thinking. Nothing fancy. We’ll leave the vehicles a couple miles down the road to avoid detection. We’ve got tranquilizer guns. Strike after nightfall, tranq everyone in sight, and walk in the front door.”
Everyone sitting at this table knew that it probably wouldn’t be that simple, but I agreed it was the best plan given the circumstances.
“Injuries could be a complication,” I pointed out. “If anyone isn’t mobile, moving them two miles could be tricky.”
Once again, I had to lock down my mind, refusing to think about Jess broken and bleeding. That she might be alone and terrified. My girl was strong as hell, but any soldier knew everyone broke under the right circumstances.
Was she afraid for her life? Was she wondering if she’d be rescued?
My chest felt tight, rage bubbling up. Every thought made me want to rip a hole in the side of the damn plane.
Lock it down, Bollinger. Save it for the fight.
“Yes, injuries are a factor,” Isaac agreed. “We’ll have to work that as we come to it.”
I nodded.
“Anything else?” MacQueen stood. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
Isaac shook his head. As soon as the door closed behind MacQueen, Isaac and Landon turned to me.
“We think MacQueen is here because of the research,” Landon said.
“How so?”
Isaac tapped the tablet and brought up a report on MacQueen, turning it toward me so I could read it. “Ian hasn’t been able to find anything on him. He’s a little too clean, which sends up red flags for us. It’s possible that Kramer has sent him because he knows his son Russell stole the research, or because he had his son steal the research.”
“But no proof,” I said.
“No.” Isaac sighed. “But all the same, we think it’s a good idea to keep an eye on MacQueen and Russell, when we find him.”
I nodded. Finding proof Russell Kramer was the thief would make my life easier in more ways than one. Most importantly, it would prove Jess was innocent. Then the guy she’d been flirting with would be an international criminal and on his way to prison for the foreseeable future. That helped greatly with the wooing-her-back plan.
Landon crossed his arms over his chest. “Because if he’s not the guilty party, and Jess is—”
“She’s not.” The words snapped out of my mouth like a whip, and he held up a hand.
“I don’t think she is either, but it would be stupid of us not to be prepared for the possibility. So we need to tell you about the secondary mission if that happens.”
I clenched my jaw in an effort not to insist there was no need for a secondary mission because Jess wasn’t guilty. She couldn’t be. It ran contrary to everything I knew about her as a person.
Of course, the past couple of months . . . was I really even sure I knew everything about her anymore? Could she have been deceived into doing something stupid?
Landon watched me carefully, like I was some wild animal who might turn and attack him any second. It wasn’t terribly far from the truth. “Returning the research is top priority. I don’t know what the data is, but it has been made clear that it cannot fall into the wrong hands.”
“What is it?” I managed, my voice rough.
He shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. Above my clearance. But it is top priority, even over the rescue of the hostages. ”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “That’s not going to work for me. And if Jess is involved, I won’t just turn her over.”
Isaac’s hand fell on my shoulder. “If the worst happens and Jess is guilty, Ian has a backup plan. We have instructions to get you both out of the country and set up someplace where Jess can’t be prosecuted. And you’ll be there to make sure she’s safe and protected. Forever.”
I sucked in a breath. Ian had really thought this through. If he had already set up this kind of contingency, it was more than serious. It was life and death. This was the kind of thing you didn’t come back from.
And evidence must really point at Jess being guilty.
I would do it, of course. I would run with Jess anywhere in the world and make sure we stayed out of sight for the rest of our lives if that was what was needed. Even if that meant we’d never see any of our family again. Or the United States.
Jess had always been—and always would be—my priority.
I’d spent a big chunk of my life protecting Jess. She could be wild and reckless and completely unaware of her own limitations. It was one of the things I loved about her.
It also meant that sometimes she needed to be protected from herself. I never imagined that this would be one of the ways I would have to do that. But I would.
I had decided a long time ago that every breath I took would be dedicated to making Jess safe and happy. What I’d found out in the past few hours didn’t change that.
“I understand,” I said. “But that’s not going to be necessary. I promise.”
They shared a look that told me they weren’t quite convinced. But I was.
“Good,” Isaac said. “But I expect you to tell us if it becomes necessary.”
I nodded again. “I will. I won’t put her in danger.”
We stopped talking as the bathroom door opened and MacQueen rejoined us at the table. “Should we plan out our offensive for once we’re on the ground?”
I made room so he could sit next to me at the table. “Let’s do it.”
We only had a couple hours until go time, and we needed to finalize every detail and examine as many variables as possible to try to eliminate problems before they happened.
So that’s what we did. MacQueen was surprisingly helpful, looking at the situation from different angles than the rest of us, who all had the same SEAL training. By the time we hit the airfield an hour away from our target, we had a solid plan in hand.
Everything we needed was on the plane already, and as we descended, we armed ourselves. No more than what we could carry on our bodies with backup bags in the car. Tranq guns with ammo and silenced handguns for an absolute emergency. Anything larger would be too noticeable.
“Ethan,” Landon called as I was putting dark paint on my skin, “review it for us one more time.”
I wasn’t offended. This was standard protocol. Each of us would take turns repeating the plan out loud so we were sure we were all not only on the same page, but on the same line and the same word on that page.
“Circle around to the north and climb the rocks on the back side. Tranq the guard on our synced count. Through the door or window and clear the northeast corner. Search for hostages. Rendezvous at the vehicles.”
He had the others recite their paths, and he repeated his as well. There were no flaws. We were ready.
As we deplaned and jumped into the waiting cars, steely calm overtook me. I was familiar with the sensation, the way my mind collapsed everything else but what was in front of me. There was only the mission. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. But this time, the end of the mission was Jess.
No mission had ever mattered this much.