Reborn by Melody Anne

Chapter One

The work the special ops team had done in bringing down two major drug cartel leaders had been garnering press over the last few weeks. Communities were starting to come out from beneath the shadows they’d been forced into. Local leaders were making sure their respective neighborhoods knew their kids could ride bikes again, moms could stroll down the sidewalks, dads could push their kids on bikes, and families were safe going to parks. They were spreading the message that the drugs and crime that had plagued their city, their neighborhoods, and their lives were no longer running the show.

As people opened their doors and windows again, still feeling slightly jumpy and looking behind them, a smart and talented reporter began showing up in different neighborhoods, interviewing business owners, church parishioners, soccer moms, and fathers teaching their kids how to build a ramp to jump their bikes. Life was getting better in every imaginable way for those living in and around Seattle — for everyone other than those degrading society with their filth in the drug world. Those people were now the ones running and hiding.

Eyes sat in the special operations conference room with five different screens turned on while watching Courtney Tucker interview random people. He was mesmerized by the way she spoke, by the way her hair fluttered in the breeze, and with how natural her smile formed while she spoke with each person, making them feel as if they were the single most important person in her universe.

Eyes wouldn’t admit it but there was a ping of jealousy when she was interviewing a random man and he’d say something that could be construed as flirtatious. Courtney never skipped a beat in her discussions with the men, but Eyes wanted to reach through the screen and rip the dudes away from her.

“You know, for someone who isn’t all that interested in the sexy reporter, I have to wonder why you have all of those different interviews going at the same time,” Sleep said. The man, who was the closest team member to Eyes, had his back against the door frame, his arms crossed against his massive chest, and a grin that said nothing less than “you just got caught red handed.”

“She’s a part of the Anderson team now, so I need to know what kind of information she puts out there,” Eyes quickly said while fumbling for the remote to turn off the screens.

“Oh . . . yes, research for the betterment of the team.” Sleep laughed as he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked into the conference room, plopping down on a chair and looking at all of the screens feeding the room information. Sugar, the team’s crazy little mascot, an adorable female orange kitten, jumped into his lap, and in the blink of an eye, she was purring while falling asleep.

“Yes, it is research,” Eyes replied after a long pause while he finally managed to turn off the last of the screens.

“If that’s the case, your research needs to speed up before she decides she can’t wait for you to get the nerve to take her out and she finds someone else to do the job,” Sleep said nonchalantly.

Eyes was absently petting the kitten while logging onto another computer. He wanted to look up a few things before they left on their mission in a few hours. The entire team would be there for a 0100 departure down at the docks Green had worked at months ago. There’d been enough intel gathered to verify that drugs were coming in via shipping containers being temporarily stored at the docks.

Eyes slid the remote across the table, trying to avoid any comments from Sleep, who stepped into the room and began logging onto his own computer.

Sleep kept looking at his team lead, waiting for him to look up and make eye contact, but it didn’t happen. The amount of ribbing he’d give his brother was vast and deep, and it was an act of God for Sleep to contain his thoughts until Eyes glanced up.

“I’m not going to look at you, Sleep,” Eyes finally said.

“What? Why not?” Sleep asked in a faux hurt response. He threw a hand over his heart so Eyes would understand how upset he was to hear such a thing.

“Why not, what?” Green asked as he joined them.

“Nothing,” Eyes quickly replied. He knew this could get out of hand really fast.

Sleep snickered, Green shrugged his shoulders, and all three men sat in silence.

Over the next thirty minutes the rest of the team slowly filled the seats with few words. There wasn’t any tension between the members of the team, but there was a quietness as they prepared for the mission that was about to begin. It was going to be dangerous and difficult.

Unlike prior missions, there was no way to control the environment as they were going to be outside. It was a Wednesday night, going into late fall, at a dock, which meant the likelihood of there being many civilians around, if any, was very slim. The one thing all of them wanted to avoid was to have their actions endanger anyone who was innocent — like a dock worker or simply a random individual walking by. There was no safety measure skipped on any mission plan.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Chad said as he walked into the conference room. His body had changed quite a bit since the first day they’d come together as a team. While he’d never have been considered overweight, he’d become a little soft in the years since he’d become a private citizen. That couldn’t be said anymore. His strength and shape had come back, making even his face appear more youthful. His walk also had a bit more bounce with each step he took these days. He’d told the team his wife was quite pleased with the changes.

“Eyes, please lead us through the steps one last time,” Chad requested, getting straight to business.

“Got it,” Eyes said and took command of the room.

For the next forty-five minutes Eyes went over each step, each person’s position and plan, and had them repeat it back to him. It was the same thing each of them had gone through many times throughout their careers, and while some might find the repetition to be overkill, when it came to decisions that might mean you or a teammate wouldn’t come home, there was never enough preparation.

“Okay, let’s roll out,” Eyes said when he was satisfied they were ready.

Each of the men stood, left the conference room, geared up, then met at the oversized Sprinter van Brackish had turned into a rolling command center. Brackish and Chad were in the front seats, the other four sitting on the floor in the back as they left the building. Just as they passed the sensors on the driveway the massive barrier blocks shot up and trapped the van in a rectangle of cylinder blockades.

Sleep took great pleasure in sending a mocking smile at Brackish. “Did you forget something?” he asked, his voice sweet as sugar.

“Shut up,” Brackish muttered as he pulled his computer pad onto his lap.

“I can’t believe Brackish forgot to turn off the sensors,” Green said. “I guess hell really has frozen over.” The entire team was laughing now. Brackish never forgot anything so this was something they’d never let him live down.

Brackish was quiet as his fingers feverishly flew over his computer pad. It only took a few seconds for the cylinders to begin to retract.

“I swear a monkey could do your job,” Sleep said between chuckles.

“Maybe so, but this monkey still beat you in the Olympics,” Brackish quickly replied.

Sleep’s mouth slammed shut. He had no comeback for that, and it sucked. It was true that the big oaf of a man had beat him. He’d kick himself for a long time for that one.

The silence of no reply made Chad look over at Brackish and the two of them gave each other a knowing nod and a quick smile. There really was nothing better than beating your friends at something they thought they were better at than you. Well, there was one thing better, and that was rubbing the win in their face over and over and over again.

“Five minutes to first drop point,” Chad said after driving a while.

“Copy,” Green replied. He was going to be let out at a point almost a mile away.

After Green was dropped off Eyes, Sleep, and Smoke were next to leave. They’d be making their way to the warehouse storage area from the back of the building. There were only three cameras sweeping the area and each of them had been hacked and put on a continuous loop so no one could confirm the special ops team had been there.

Brackish and Chad drove to the front of the building, parked, and strode to the two oversized forklifts they’d placed there only a few hours earlier. The two of them were wearing appropriate safety gear and would easily pass any curious glances they might receive from any possible passersby.

With the forklifts revved up and on the move, Chad and Brackish made quick work of boxing in specific avenues by moving empty Conex containers around the lot. Any traffic that made its way into the area would be strategically sent away from the warehouse that was about to become the target for some of the most determined warriors on earth.

“Phase Traffic Jam complete,” Chad called over the comms from the driver’s seat of the van. Brackish had taken up his spot in the back and began bringing computers and monitors to life as they slowly crept into a dark corner of the parking lot where no one would see the van. From there he’d release his drones. Each type had been given specific functions to perform, and all of that information was fed back to Brackish. He was in heaven doing what he did best.

“Copy, Jam complete,” Eyes said.

“Golden Eagle in place,” Green said, sounding almost bored.

“Copy, Eagle,” Eyes replied.

“Prying Eyes launched,” Brackish said. He didn’t often get to be in the field so he was pretty dang happy, and really liked his call name for the mission.

“Copy, Prying Eyes,” Eyes replied.

“Three Amigos on the move,” Sleep slid into the comms. He couldn’t help himself.

The first thing the three amigos did was make their way through the emergency exit door, which had been disabled. They then made their way to the warehouse. It was a huge storage area. It had just missed being in the top ten warehouses in the world at just under five hundred thousand square feet, able to fit approximately ten football fields inside. If it wasn’t for their intel, and Brackish’s drones, it would be next to impossible to find the drugs in the vast space.

Soon, they got another surprise, though. Their intel had been wrong about the amount of drugs in the facility. They’d been told a certain amount; they’d been misinformed. Instead of one row of drugs, there were dozens of rows stacked ten feet high with placards in multiple languages labeled, Minerals. Below the name were weights, dates, and information meant to throw off any suspicion.

“B, send the prying eyes to our location for confirmation of goods,” Eyes requested.

Within a couple of seconds the faint whirl of tiny blades descended onto the special ops men and started making their way down the line of tens of thousands of barrels.

“Confirmed readout, the goods are the stuffed animals we’re looking for,” Brackish said after only a few seconds.

“Copy. We’re going to need more buttons for the stuffed animals,” Eyes replied. The men immediately got to work.

The buttons Eyes had mentioned were six by two-inch rods that were shot into the barrel. After the rod was deposited by a type of ram gun it created a chemical reaction with the drugs inside, at first a slow burn, and then full consumption of everything inside. It was probable a fire would set the warehouse ablaze, but the team decided the risk of a fire was worth completing the mission.

It didn’t take long for the first flames to take hold, and soon the three men were working a lot faster and spacing the barrels they inserted the chemically charged rod into farther down the line from the last one. They didn’t want any drugs left when this was finished. It didn’t take long before they were jogging down the line of barrels with flames shooting up behind them.

“Call off the buttons, we’re full of heat in here. Be ready to call the rain man,” Eyes called over his comms. They’d purposely turned off the fire alarm and sprinkler systems. To have the drugs burn out completely was more important than the possibility of some non-illegal substances being destroyed. When the time was right Brackish would call the fire department — being very clear that there were drugs burning, and unless they had proper protection they shouldn’t come anywhere near the fire as they could easily die from inhaling the fumes.

Soon, the previously dark warehouse was lit up brighter than the Fourth of July in the deep South, and the heat was nearly suffocating. By the time Eyes, Sleep, and Smoke made it to the end of the line of barrels, the tips of the flames were nipping at the ceiling. That was nothing compared to what happened next.

The bottom row of barrels lost their structural integrity and began crumbling beneath the weight of the barrels stacked on top of them. As one row of barrels began crashing, the domino effect began. A wave of fire rushed at the men, gaining speed and ferocity the closer it got to them.

“Go!” Eyes yelled. None of them hesitated.

Smoke reached the door first and held it open for Sleep and Eyes to rush through. All three stopped worrying about being covert, and they made a beeline for their extraction point. While they were running they could hear updates from Brackish and Chad about emergency services being called from citizens across the harbor. Since it had gone out over private lines, there was no way for Brackish to control who else might have heard the call. They needed to get out of there — and fast.

“Incoming,” Brackish said.

“It’s a car . . . oh . . . dammit!” Green shouted.

“What?” Eyes barked back.

“How did he get here before anyone else? It’s the idiot boss’s kid, Andrew. I’m going to have to stop him,” Green finished before crawling down from a platform where he’d been hidden. He planted himself in the middle of the road.

When Andrew’s car lights illuminated Green, it obviously shocked the kid so much he nearly drove himself into the building they were next to. Green knew he was a sight to behold with his long gun, special ops clothing, night vision set over his face, and his mask covering his mouth and nose. The kid had no idea who Green was or why he was there, making the punk unpredictable.

Green waited.

Andrew started laying on his horn, but Green still didn’t move. After a few seconds of their standoff, Green was a bit shocked when Andrew had the audacity to start moving his car forward as if he’d run over Green. Green still didn’t move, and the resolve was obviously too much for Andrew. He slammed on his brakes as he rolled down his window and started yelling profanities at Green, demanding he get the hell out of the road. Green slowly rose his long gun and pointed it at the passenger seat of the car. Andrew stopped his forward momentum and stopped yelling, his face instantly paling.

Green slowly walked up to the car, then knelt down, and flipped up his night vision. “Andrew, you want nothing to do with what’s happening at this warehouse. Unless you’re involved in the importation of drugs into the United States or want to be held culpable by happening to show up just as they’re burning to the ground, I’d highly recommend you turn around and leave right now.”

“Who . . . who are you?” Andrew stammered.

Green pulled down his mask and smiled. “Andrew, you don’t want to be involved in this. Turn around — now!”

Green nearly smiled at the utter shock on Andrew’s face when he realized it was Green. The cat was now out of the bag as it was more than obvious that Green wasn’t just some warehouse worker. The kid would never guess what Green truly was, but he knew the kid would come up with all sorts of ludicrous ideas over the next several years. Something like this stayed with a person for a long time to come.

Andrew was frozen, and Green needed him to move. He shouted this time when he spoke. “Go! Now!”

This time, Andrew did as he was told. His fingers were visibly shaking as he gripped his steering wheel, but he turned the car around and drove away on the same route he’d come.

“He’s gone but we have sirens coming in numbers. I’ll meet you guys at my extraction point. See you when I see you,” Green said as he slowly walked back into the shadows, completely disappearing from any eyes that might swing in his direction.

“B&C, meet at zone two. Repeat, meet at zone two. We’re staying here to ensure no one tries to go inside,” Eyes commanded of Brackish and Chad who were in the van.

“Copy,” Chad said. He started the vehicle and drove. Brackish hit a couple buttons and all of his drones made their way to their resting spots on top of the van. Once they were in place a specialized awning would cover them, making them impossible to spot.

The first fire truck arrived just as the Sprinter van took a corner, leaving no trace the team had ever been there. It took less than five minutes for fifteen more fire trucks to follow the first. Other emergency vehicles weren’t far behind the engines, creating a logjam of flashing lights as they got as close as they could to the enormous blaze lighting up the entire harbor.

The press tried making their way down the road, but thankfully, they were cut off. Many of them retreated to their vans and made their way to a different road, hoping to have a better view of the destruction taking place. They wouldn’t be in danger on those routes, so the team wasn’t worried.

Eyes was incredibly relieved to see the firefighters heeding the warning about not getting too close to the fire, and even more relieved that none of the ambulance workers or press individuals neared the blaze. There was zero civilian interaction with the fire and Eyes wanted to keep it that way. He’d be there a while, but as long as the drugs were destroyed and the people were safe, it was all worth it.

His plan was going perfectly until he heard a woman’s voice that instantly had him on edge. His head whipped around. There she was scooting down an embankment while holding a cell phone, talking to the screen while pointing her phone at the fire. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew that voice. He’d been listening to it nearly non-stop for weeks.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the pavement, far too close to the blaze — Courtney, beautiful as ever, all but glowing from the light of the flames dancing against her skin. He was about to move forward, to demand she get the hell out of there before she inhaled the deadly fumes . . . but he was too late.

A shadowy figure came out of nowhere right behind her. At first Eyes thought the shadows and flames were playing tricks on his vision. But then Courtney spun around. Some sound must’ve alerted her. She swung her arm in a terrible attempt at a punch. She was in trouble. The man snaked his meaty arms around her and began dragging her away, her screams muted by his thick arm.

Not caring about his cover any longer, Eyes leapt from his hiding place, and was in a full sprint within a couple of steps. He reached Courtney and her assailant just as the man swung his arm at her face. He held a huge rock.

Eyes could tell before his fist met the man’s face for the first time that the man was homeless and high on something. The smell emanating off of him was enough to make one with a softer stomach lurch.

Engaging in a hand-to-hand situation with someone like him was dangerous, due to the high possibility of needles on him. He also knew the man’s mind was so far gone he didn’t know where he was, let alone what he was doing. Instead of seriously harming the man, Eyes flipped him over onto his stomach and brought the man’s arms together where he quickly secured him with a couple of zip ties.

Once the attacker was secure, he turned his attention to Courtney who was already up and brushing herself off. Eyes had been expecting tears, shaking . . . and of course, gratitude. He’d been wrong. There wasn’t a single tear in her eyes, but a level of irritation. Who in the hell was this woman? She’d just been assaulted and had nearly gotten her head smashed in with a rock and she stood there, brushing off her clothes as if this was a typical Saturday night.

Eyes was shocked even more when she held up her phone in the same position she’d had it in earlier, and then pointed it directly into Eye’s face. “Did you all see that? This man came out of nowhere and literally saved my life. The man who attacked me is clearly on drugs, so I can’t be angry at his actions, but the hero in front of me stopped the man from doing something he might later regret.”

Eyes was speechless, possibly for the first time in his life. Courtney pointed her camera at the tied man on the ground who was twisting beneath his restraints as he shouted every curse word in the Urban Dictionary.

“This is the man who just attacked me.” Her phone moved back to Eyes. “There’s no doubt in my mind I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

The only reason Eyes wasn’t pushing her camera away was because his face was covered. Of course, that meant nothing with some of the systems out there that could see through materials, but it did mean that the general public would have no clue who he was.

“Thank you for saving me,” Courtney said. “What’s your name? I’d like the world to know there’s a hero in this city.” She stopped as she scanned him from head to toe. “Why are you dressed like this?” She finally noted the guns on him. “What are you doing here?” Her eyes lit with equal parts of suspicion and excitement at the idea of a bigger story than she’d anticipated. “Do you have anything to do with the fire?”

Eyes finally snapped out of his shock as he held up his hand. “Courtney, you need to get out of here. That fire is eating away at thousands of pounds of drugs and it’s critical you don’t get too close to the building. The fumes will kill you.”

“How do you know who I am?” she asked, her eyes narrowing more. “I don’t take you as an internet news broadcaster fan.” She again paused. “Your voice sounds familiar.”

Eyes let out a sigh. Then he reached up and took her phone, shutting it off. Courtney gasped at him in outrage.

“Hey! I’m recording,” she said. “Don’t think you can bully me or take me away to some secret compound in the middle of nowhere. I’m a damn good journalist and I have rights,” she said, taking a step closer to him, not afraid in the least. He wondered how she’d survived as long as she had. The woman had zero sense of danger. If he was a bad guy she’d be toast.

“No more cameras,” Eyes said. “I need you to trust me and get out of here.”

“Trust you?” She gasped. “There’s not a flying chance in Oz of me doing that. Give me back my phone.”

Eyes swiftly removed her battery and stuck it in his pocket then handed her the phone.

“You can’t do that!” she said, stomping her foot as she took another step at him.

“Troubles?” came a rich, deep voice filled with laughter.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eyes replied to Smoke who’d appeared out of nowhere — nothing unusual for the big man.

“Wait!” Courtney whipped around, her head going back and forth as she watched Smoke draw closer. Eyes saw recognition dawn on her face. She turned back to Eyes.

“I’d know Tyrell’s voice anywhere.” She again paused. “Is that you, Jon?”

“You’re a better reporter than I thought,” Eyes said as he removed his night vision and face mask then gave her a smile.

“What in the world is going on? Please give me the story,” she asked but equally demanded. Smoke didn’t help the matter by laughing.

“Right now, we need to get the hell out of here. It isn’t safe,” Eyes said firmly.

Sleep stepped from the shadows next. Courtney looked as if she’d just stumbled upon the golden egg as her head whipped around between the three large men dressed in full fatigues.

“Eyes, you take her. Smoke and I will cover the perp and hand him over to the cops. None of the firefighters are going into that blaze. They’ve heeded Brackish’s warning. The smell’s in the air now, making it more than obvious what’s burning.”

“Brackish just said a boat is heading in to spray the blaze, but it’ll still be burning for a while,” Smoke added.

“Copy,” Eyes said. He turned to Courtney and held out an arm, wondering if she’d take it. She only hesitated a few seconds before she ran her hand through the opening at his elbow.

“You’d better start talking,” she threatened. “I have sooooo many questions.”

Eyes couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

“Don’t you always?” he responded. The farther they moved from the blaze, the better he felt. She’d been far too close to danger. He didn’t like that one bit.

She looked up at him, then looked back toward the raging fire. He didn’t need to see the blaze again; he just watched as the flames danced in her eyes. That ignition set his own body on fire. There was something happening with this woman, something that had started a long time ago and was beginning to rage now.

When Courtney had interviewed him and Sleep years ago after their near-death experience, he’d felt an ember ignite in him. Then when the woman had shown up a few months ago, it had been as if dry kindling had been tossed on that ember. Now, as she clung to his side, it felt as if gasoline had just been added to the mix.

What was he going to do about it? He smiled just as she turned and gazed into his eyes. He’d soon find out, that was for damn sure.