portable command center being set up on the tarmac, a huge motor home with antennas on top. As they stood next to the steps leading to the entrance, she could see her breath in the freezing air.
Wishing she had her gloves, she rubbed her hands together to keep them warm. “Have you talked to Brandon?”
“We connected. He’s calling me back.”
She looked over at the concourse, thought of Hallie, Ty, and the kids, and the terror of being held hostage.
“Anything I need to know about your friend, Garrett?”
She forced herself to focus. “Bran was Delta. He knows what he’s doing.” She had to hang on to that. She had to trust him to do what needed to be done and come out alive. If she couldn’t do it now, there was no hope for them.
“And the guy in with the passengers?”
“Ty Folsom. Ty was a ranger. He’s traveling with his girlfriend and his two kids. He won’t leave them alone. That’ll limit what he can do to help.”
Ramirez nodded. He looked up as the door to the command center opened. “You might as well get inside the trailer, out of the cold.”
She glanced back at the terminal. She wanted to be ready if Bran needed her, ready for Hallie and Ty and Chris and little Sarah. Unconsciously, her hand slid down to her cell phone. “I’ll go inside in a minute.”
* * *
The third man was shorter than the other two, and older, his beard longer. Bran watched him prowling the corridor, AK-47 strapped to his chest. He opened the door to an equipment room, disappeared inside, and reappeared seconds later. Bran eased back into the shadows, waiting for his prey, patient, listening, hearing the shuffle-glide of his feet on the concrete floor.
Bran counted the seconds, the cadence of the footfalls, calculating the time and distance to his arrival. His quarry paused, carefully checking for anyone who might be hiding. Anyone who might pose a threat.
Come on...come to Papa. He was close now. Bran could hear him breathing. He was nervous. His movements no longer rhythmical, but jerky, uncertain. He had figured it out, knew someone was there, behind a false wall that disguised an air-conditioning unit. The man stopped to aim his rifle.
Bran fired. Three short bursts, chest-high, right through the wall. He stepped into the passage, saw the man lying on the floor but still breathing, finished the job with another short burst. Then he moved on.
Three terrorists down. SWAT could enter through the lower level, spread out and make their way to various metal stairs leading up to the gate level, giving them at least three solid approaches.
He took out his phone to call Ramirez, but it vibrated before he had time to press the contact button.
Ty. “They’re getting antsy. Haven’t been able to reach the three men downstairs.”
“They’re enjoying their seventy-two virgins.”
Ty grunted his approval. “They’re sending a man down to check. He’s heading for the stairs across from me, next to gate 47.”
“Got it.” Bran headed for the stairs next to the supply elevator he figured would be closest to the gate.
This guy wouldn’t be as easy as the others. He’d be wary, ready for danger. Adrenaline pulsing. Anticipating the stalk. Eager for the kill.
Which could all be used against him. Bran waited as close as he could get to the bottom of the stairs, just a few feet away, out of sight around the first corner. His prey would just be gearing up, not quite ready for the hunt to begin.
Definitely not ready for it to end.
Footsteps rang on the metal stairs. He counted them down, three, two, one. Bran hit him like a tank crashing into a concrete barrier, body-slamming him into the wall, headbutting, plowing a fist into his ribs, breaking at least three. The guy’s pretty face hit the floor, caving in one of his cheekbones and knocking him unconscious. Bran finished him with the knife, grabbed the terrorist’s cell phone, and faded away.
* * *
Sergeant Ramirez strode away from his men, back to where Jessie stood near the stairs to the command center, her hands shoved into the pockets of her puffy jacket.
“You were right,” he said. “Garrett took out four of the terrorists—half what they had to start with. He’s cleared a way for us to get inside the terminal. We’re dispatching men now.”
Her heart was beating too fast. She could hardly breathe. She took a deep breath and tried to control the fear squeezing her lungs.
“So you’re going in?”
“We’re