Liberation Day Read online

  “What happens now?” Ling asked.

  “Now, there are seven private planes waiting for departure at a nearby airfield. The drivers will deliver the crates there and the planes will take them to their destinations.”

  “Very well, sir,” Ling said. He paused a moment to ensure Gold had nothing further for him before turning to leave.

  He made it as far as the door before Gold said, “If the girl hasn’t talked by morning, kill her. She’s of no further use to us at this point.”

  The corner of Ling’s mouth played up just a bit but he said nothing, disappearing behind the curtain and down the stairs.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  It appeared Nio had not stopped pacing since Thorn left. He practically jumped the moment the front door opened and Thorn entered, a ball of frenetic energy.

  ”Marc Tallo turned on his own,” Nio said without preamble. “Holy shit.”

  “Been doing some reading?” Thorn asked, not commenting on Nio’s opening line.

  “Everything your guy sent over,” Nio said, gesturing to the computer. “Should I read anything into that fresh blood on your shirt?”

  Grabbing the shirt by the collar Thorn pulled it over his head, examining the neck, finding two nickel-sized spots of dried blood on the royal blue material. “That son of a bitch.”

  “Tallo?” Nio asked, his face twisted up a bit.

  “No,” Thorn said, eschewing going into the entire tale. “These were the good guys, actually.”

  A disbelieving look fell over Nio’s features, though he remained silent.

  “They’re going to help me get inside that monstrosity,” Thorn said. “That’s all that matters right now.”

  Without further explanation Thorn began moving through the house and grabbing things he’d need. He pulled out a black long-sleeve Dri-Fit shirt and a pair of black cargo pants, followed by a matching ski cap. Every step of the way Nio was on his heels, Abby just inches behind.

  “So you fed them Tallo in exchange for their cooperation?”

  “More or less,” Thorn said, pulling the shirt on over his head. “At first they were more than a little skeptical, but after a few phone calls they accepted I was telling the truth.”

  “And were pissed?”

  “To put it mildly,” Thorn said. He took up the cargo pants and hefted them in his hands a moment, remembering on sight all the times he’d been forced to wear something similar in the navy. With a twist of the head he cast them aside, instead cinching the drawstring on his gym shorts a bit tighter. “They agreed to get me inside and I agreed to hand him over.”

  Just saying it aloud Thorn knew how close he had come to striking out. If Tallo was the only goal they would have targeted their efforts there, leaving him on his own to approach the sprawling estate. His saving grace was the damage that whoever lived there had already done to their enterprises at the docks.

  “When do we leave?” Nio asked, taking a cue from Thorn and pulling on his own shoes. Left with just the clothes he’d been wearing earlier in the afternoon, he looked down at his board shorts and t-shirt before shrugging.

  “We?” Thorn asked, stopping by the front counter. For a moment he looked down at Abby, contemplating if he should make any special arrangements for her should things go sideways. Just as fast he dismissed the notion, knowing Ingram would take care of it if need be. Instead he looked at Nio standing across from him, his arms crossed.

  “Tallo is just a bit player, nothing more than a foothold at the docks,” Thorn said. “Whoever is pulling the strings is powerful and ruthless. He’s already killed untold numbers and has an army of henchmen armed to do more of the same.”

  “She’s my sister,” Nio said, staring back at him.

  Heat began to creep up Thorn’s back, his scalp starting to prickle with sensation. “Which is why I set this thing up, to go in after her.”

  “She’s my sister,” Nio repeated.

  Pulling in a long breath of air, Thorn leveled his gaze on Nio. He had only just met him a week before, knew next to nothing about his background.

  “And?” Thorn asked, his voice angrier than he really felt, wanting Nio to get the hint. “I have been in the navy for the past six years. I have training, experience. What do you have?”

  Fire passed behind Nio’s eyes as he stared back, incredulous. “Revenge.”

  “Absolutely not,” Thorn said, turning his back to Nio and opening his laptop. In a quick flurry of buttons he pulled the video conference system to life, Ingram appearing on screen just moments later.

  “Talk to me,” Ingram said, his attention aimed to the side, clearly distracted.

  “We’re going live in an hour,” Thorn said. “Turner and Cardoza are assembling men as we speak, I’m leaving here shortly.”

  The information got Ingram’s attention, his body swiveling to face forward. “What are we talking here? Full-on assault?”

  “By land and sea both would be my guess,” Thorn said, “but I don’t know yet. Depends how many men they scratch together.”

  A low, sharp whistle slid from Ingram as he stared back at Thorn. “Listen, Thorn, this being your first outing and all...”

  It was clear where the admonishment was going, Thorn cutting him off halfway through. “Coach, this is far from my first outing.”

  “You know what I mean,” Ingram replied.

  “And so do you,” Thorn said.

  A long moment of silence passed as the two stared at each other, Ingram eventually nodding in concession. “This afternoon I fed those images you sent me into Interpol. Three hours ago they started popping up all over the globe.”

  For the past hour Thorn had been so intent on the impending invasion it took a moment for the information to register. Once it did he leaned forward and pressed his palms into the counter, forcing pieces into place.

  “Where?”

  “England, Italy, France,” Ingram rattled off. “And those are just so far. My guess is there could be more. Only a fraction of the guys you sent over are accounted for.”

  “Shit,” Thorn muttered. “They must have left right after we saw them.”

  “That’s probably why you spotted them,” Ingram countered. “They were loading up.”

  “Any idea what that could mean?” Thorn said. “Anything unusual going on with the EU? C-STAD?”

  Already Ingram’s attention was back on the screen without looking into the camera, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. “Nothing I’m finding so far, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

  The movement continued a moment longer before Ingram stopped, his expression grim as he glanced up into the camera. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can do some looking around while you’re in there too, can you?”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Over thirty men were assembled by the time Thorn arrived. Dressed in shades of black, green, and gray, they milled about the same garage Thorn had woken up in several hours earlier. They ranged from burly Irishmen to wiry Cubans and included a few of everything in between. Just the sight of them standing there, the way they carried themselves, the tension in the air, stirred things long dormant inside of Thorn.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” Thorn asked, his voice low. He had shut the engine off but made no effort to climb out, the engine ticking and the muffled din of conversation the only sounds.

  “She’s my sister,” Nio repeated, staring at the crowd, his eyes a little larger than usual.

  For a moment Thorn considered telling him that that wasn’t the answer he was looking for, but let it pass. “When we get out here, remember, you are an IT expert. You’re coming inside to dig around while I grab Iggy.”

  “I got it,” Nio said, his reflection visible in the passenger window as he stared out.

  The story was weak and they both knew it, but under the circumstances it was the best they could. The truth was Thorn hated the idea of bringing Nio along. It wasn’t some sort of misguided jargon about working bet
ter alone, but rather the men he was used to working with were trained and competent.

  Nio was a complete wild card. There was no way of knowing how he might react when bullets started humming by, if he would become a complete liability.

  Shaking away the idea, Thorn climbed out and examined the lot before him. As a whole they cut an imposing group, all heavily armed, carrying assault rifles and wearing protective vests.

  Many gave he and Nio measuring glances as they passed, though nobody said a word.

  Together they made their way inside the garage to find Turner and Cardoza leaning over a table, a tall man in black beside them. All three turned and openly stared as they approached, waiting for their arrival.

  “You’re early,” Turner said.

  “Looks like we’re not the only ones,” Thorn said, motioning to the room.

  “No use in waiting, I guess,” Turner said.

  Thorn extended them a rolled up print out. “Blueprints of the grounds we pulled from satellite. One of our men was inside yesterday and said they read true to form.”

  “You’ve already had a man inside?” Cardoza asked.

  “We had to plant an access point and enhance our satellite imagery.”

  Turner and Cardoza both nodded, accepting the information without comment.

  Turning to the man in black, Thorn extended his hand. “Thorn Byrd. I assume you’re the man in charge tonight?”

  The man accepted the handshake. “Bron Delaney. And yes, these men did ask me to lead our part of the operation.”

  “Works for me,” Thorn said. “Our main objective is to get inside. How that happens is up to you.”

  Cocking an eyebrow, Delaney gave Thorn a measured look, a bit of wariness around the edges.

  “Let me guess,” Thorn said, sensing his thoughts and moving to cut them off, “Marines?”

  The eyebrow lowered itself back into place as the man looked at Thorn square and nodded.

  “I could tell,” Thorn said. “No power struggles from us, you know what you’re doing.”

  Hooking a thumb to his right, Thorn said, “This is Nio Garcia, our IT guru. While I’m searching for the hostage, he’ll be poking around to see what exactly this is all about.”

  Nio nodded in greeting to the group.

  The men nodded in response and Turner said, “You’re certain something large is afoot?”

  “In the last three hours, seven different men we flagged from surveillance have shown up in various port cities across Europe. Too much to write off as coincidence.”

  “Agree,” Cardoza inserted.

  Setting the blueprints down on the table, Delaney unfurled them as the others grouped up around the table. “We were told the place sits right on the water, so we sent three boats up the coast a few minutes ago to block off any escape by water. They should be in place shortly.

  “On foot, we have twenty-eight men, four teams of seven,” he continued, his gaze and his hand both working over the blueprints, taking everything in. “The east side of the property looks to be sheer cliff, so we’ll assume no exit that way.”

  He paused a moment, continuing to look over things, before saying, “We’ll send a team over the wall on the north and south sides. Put the last two right through the main gate.”

  He glanced up to Thorn and Nio. “You two will come through the main gate with my teams. Once inside, do what you need to do.”

  Thorn glanced at Nio, both nodding in silence.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  As the last two loaded inside, Thorn and Nio were wedged into the semi-darkness of the rear of the Suburban. Sitting with their backs against opposing sides, their legs were pressed against each other as Thorn checked the slide of the Glock Delaney had given him before departure.

  In the strained silence of the car he could hear he wasn’t the sole person doing a final clearance, a series of weapons checks sounding out.

  The ride took twenty minutes to complete, four Suburbans moving through the desolate late night roads in a convoy. By the time they arrived Thorn could feel sweat running beneath his Kevlar vest, could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

  Across from him Nio wore a grim expression that appeared as if he might vomit at any moment. Several words of encouragement crossed Thorn’s mind though he bit each one back, not wanting their cohorts to hear and deem Nio a liability.

  Right now the best thing for both of them was to be as invisible as possible.

  The fourth in line to arrive, by the time the rear was opened and Thorn stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air, the north and south teams were already on their way. Little more than black shadows dancing between the trees, the sounds of their equipment was the only way to demarcate they were there at all.

  Joining with Delaney and his men, Thorn and Nio fell in with both groups scheduled for the front gate. Less than two minutes after watching the others disappear into the night they too departed, headed forward at a brisk jog.

  In total they covered just under a half mile of ground, the trip taking right at five minutes. By the time they arrived most of the men were bent at the waist, panting and sweating. Watching them a thought occurred to Thorn, his stomach tightening with the realization that despite their tactical appearance, most were little more than employees of Cardoza and Turner.

  Again Thorn thought to say a few words to Nio, to offer him some instruction for once the front gates opened, but opted against it. Anything he offered now would seem like pandering, his own mind settling itself for combat. A product of preconditioning, his breathing evened out and his heart beat settled into a steady pace, his nerves tingling with sensation.

  For the last few years he had been able to replicate the feeling through football, but since that too was now gone it had been seven long months since the familiar jolt of adrenaline passed through his system. Without trying to fight it he let a smile cross his face, his body finding its natural equilibrium.

  Casting aside the holster he’d been given, Thorn fed a live round into the chamber and watched as a pair of charges were placed on the wrought iron hinges of the front gate. Once they were in place the man applying them jogged back to the group, many of the men turning their backs and covering their ears.

  Opting only to close his eyes to protect his night vision, Thorn waited until he heard the small explosives go, the sound of metal ripping away finding his ears.

  Like sprinters at the sound of the gun the entire envoy of men rushed forward at once, spilling through the gate and across the front lawn. For a full fifteen seconds they operated in darkened silence before flood lights spread over the grounds, shrill sirens piercing the air.

  A handful of angry Dobermans were the first to react from the house, hurtling themselves the length of the yard with teeth bared. They slammed into the encroaching attackers in an uneven line, launching themselves into the air. Some of the men made the mistake of trying to fight them head on, the enormous animals ripped into them, biting and clawing at every available bit of exposed flesh.

  One at a time gunshots began to ring out, the occasional whine of an injured dog following close behind.

  Behind the dogs came a torrent of guards, all dressed in black, handguns extended. Yellow flowers began to punctuate the night as muzzle flashes went off, gunfire exchanged on both sides.

  The smell of smoke and gunpowder, the sound of men crying out, only seemed to heighten the primordial instincts within Thorn. Breaking away from the line of intruders he raised his pace to double time, using the driveway as a path, rushing forward with his weapon raised.

  Right now the entire attention of everybody inside was fixated on the squads pouring onto the grounds. It would be several minutes before anybody thought to piece the invasion to the hostage held somewhere within.

  Using that knowledge as fuel Thorn set a course for the front of the house. To either side men scrambled over the fence and joined in the fray, flashes of gunfire illuminating the grounds like hundreds of oversized fi
reflies.

  Following the ribbon of black asphalt through the front grass, Thorn sprinted for the house, abandoning any pretense of shooting and rushing forward. Only once did he slow his pace long enough to hoist up a shotgun from a fallen guard, trusting that the footsteps he heard behind him belonged to Nio.

  Underfoot the ground changed from blacktop to marble, Thorn taking the stairs three at a time as he scaled the front steps and made his way to the door.

  Chapter Fifty

  Ling was en route to the cellar when the alarms sounded. In his hand he carried an industrial grade Taser and on his face was the faintest semblance of a smile.

  He was going to have fun.

  When Gold gave the go ahead to dispatch of the girl, Ling thought hard on the best way to do it. A simple shooting would be lazy and strangulation would be too easy for a victim as worn down and helpless as she was.

  It was then it occurred to him that she was trapped in a pool of water, metal shackles attaching her to the wall. He wouldn’t even have to enter the room. He could simply open the door, fire the electrodes, and watch as she slowly writhed in agony to her death.

  Once it was over and the smell of singed meat hung in the air, he’d toss the Taser inside and bar the door forever, locking her inside as he had so many others over the years. The cellar had been designed with dozens of rooms originally meant as servant quarters and storage, though Ling had found a far more functional use for them.

  Filling one more would be of no consequence.

  He had just pushed through the door to the lower levels, his foot inches above the first stair, when the sirens erupted through the house. Another fifteen seconds and he would have been entombed in concrete, no sound penetrating them. For just a moment that very thought entered his mind as he stared with borderline longing at the black maw below before turning and sprinting for Gold’s office.

  Without pausing for acknowledgement, he swung through the heavy tapestry to find Gold’s bank of monitors displaying various camera views of the grounds. “What have we got?”