Hot SEAL, Heartbreaker - Cat Johnson Page 0,47

to escape before locking the three men inside where they would remain while the team searched the premises,

With the occupants locked away, and with Pops guarding the pantry door, they were free to gather evidence, proof of the assassination plot.

Information was the main goal. But of course their visit would serve another purpose as well. Intimidation. It would make Anas and his brother aware they were being watched.

“I would have thought an ambassador for the Taliban, the brother of a Taliban commander, would live in a better place. And have better shit.” He looked around the room.

“He’s just a poet, remember? He’s not working for the Taliban.” Joker’s comment was ripe with sarcasm.

“My money says he’s living in this shithole because he’s trying to stay under the radar. Which makes you wonder, why?” Liam asked.

From the back of the room where he stood guard, Pops sniffed. “No wondering about it. It’s because he’s plotting an assassination. To sour the peace talks.”

“But why mess with the peace talks?” Joker asked.

“There’s no need for an anti-American force like the Haqqani network if the US is no longer the enemy,” Brian guessed. “No chaos. No war. No more need for Haqqani watchdogs. It’s self-preservation. Kill the peace. Insure the survival of the family network.”

“We just gotta find the proof. So let’s find the damn proof so we can get the hell out of Dodge before anyone shows up.” Joker glanced at the door.

Liam glanced around them. “But look. There’s nothing here. No computer. Not even a damn cell phone charger lying around. He’s what? Late twenties. Anybody else find it odd that a guy his age has no electronics?”

“Anything upstairs?” Brian yelled up the staircase to where their team leader had gone with Zig.

“Nothing,” Zig called back down.

Joker snorted. “He’s got something somewhere. We just gotta look harder to find it all.”

Liam flipped a carpet over with his foot and swore softly. “Lookie here, boys.”

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A trap door. Very promising.” Brian rubbed his hands together and bent to hook his nails into the edge of the wood door. “Let’s see what we got down here.”

“Bear! We got something here,” Joker yelled up the narrow stairs.

Bear pounded down the staircase fast.

“Ready?” Brian asked.

“Do it.” Bear nodded.

With his teammates covering his six, Brian swung the door open and jumped back. They could just as easily find Haqqani hiding down there as they could find his electronics.

“Fire in the hole.” Liam tossed a flashbang down the stairs and they all moved back as it exploded.

Before the cloud of dust had dissipated, Bear was running down the stairs, Joker on his heels.

“Clear!” Bear yelled.

“Clear!” Joker echoed.

“What do you see?” Brian asked, keeping his eye on the front door in case Haqqani or any of his friend came home. Meanwhile he was dying to see what was down that hole.

Liam moved closer and shone a flashlight down, then swore, “Fuck me.”

“What?” He asked again.

“The son of a bitch has more electronics down here than the damn TOC.”

He moved closer and saw Liam was right. What was down there looked better than the equipment they had in the Tactical Operations Center at the base they’d just left.

And fuck it all, they were going to have to gather every piece of it and bring it back with them. And fast.

“Anybody got a moving truck with them?” he asked, only half joking.

“Move over and let me handle this.” Zig came down the stairs as he pulled out a pouch. He opened it to reveal it was filled with tiny screwdrivers. “All we need are the hard drives from the desktop computers. I’ll grab those. You guys get anything else.”

And with that, they went to work dismantling Anas Haqqani’s personal network of terror, one screw at a time.

TWENTY-THREE

Girl’s night out came around again and this time Alicia steeled herself and met Shelly at McP’s Pub.

She’d been dodging Greg’s calls and texts for the past week.

The only good thing was that she hadn’t had to avoid Brian, because he hadn’t bothered to call or text lately.

Given the lack of communication, she figured it was safe to return to McP’s. She couldn’t avoid her favorite bar forever.

As her cell rang one more time, she glanced at the display, hit the screen to silence the call, and flipped it over.

Shelly watched the move from over the rim of her hard seltzer.

“You’re still not answering?” she asked.

“Nope.”

A beep signaled a new voicemail.

Shelly’s gaze dropped to the device before coming