Target (Page 23)

"It’s the best we have, Director," Winkler said. "If it doesn’t look good when we go in, we’ll come right out and let the regular forces have it."

Ashe sat in the back of a limousine between Winkler and Trajan while the Director, sitting beside the unnamed werewolf, outlined the problem for Ashe. "The British Embassy has been taken over by terrorists," he explained. "They tried the same thing with three other embassies at the same time, but were only successful at this one. There are quite a few dead at the other venues, including the enemy, but those embassies are now secure. Only the Brits are in danger, now. We gather that there are at least seven terrorists inside the building; four were killed before they gained entrance. Now, everyone inside that embassy is in danger, if they haven’t been killed already."

"Ashe, you’re going to carry Trajan and some of the Director’s men inside; they’ll try to take out the terrorists," Winkler said. "Don’t put yourself in danger; we’ll show you a map and you’ll drop your cargo where Matt says to drop them. Understood?"

"Uh-huh," Ashe felt shaky as Winkler and the Director outlined what they wanted. A map of the embassy interior was spread across the hood of a police cruiser, safely parked behind crime scene tape. The lights were on in the British Embassy, but nobody was visible behind the windows. Someone had a representative from the terrorists on the phone, but they were refusing any sort of negotiation at that point.

A covered porch with square columns lined the front of the building, which was built in a wide U-shape. Ashe couldn’t begin to describe how many national agencies and security personnel were outside the British Embassy in the early-morning light. The media had been kept away from the site and Ashe was thankful for that. He didn’t want his mother to see his image plastered all over national television, especially since she thought him safe in Dallas—he’d talked to her shortly before he’d gone to bed the night before. Now, a light breeze ruffled Ashe’s hair and flipped crime scene tape tied to vehicles and convenient traffic signs. The day promised to be a warm one.

"We think this is the safest place to make the drop," Matt made sure Ashe knew the proper room and the floor number inside the building as he bent over the map. The small room Matt indicated held copy machines and other office equipment. "Now," Matt went on, "these are the ones you’ll take inside." Matt jerked his head at six men who stood nearby. "All of your jobs are on the line if you breathe a word on how you got inside," he spoke to the six operatives, all of whom stood at attention beside him. "Remember your non-disclosure agreements," Matt reminded them.

"Yes, sir," all six said in unison. Ashe knew they must be military, maybe Special Ops or something. He also figured that nobody would tell him anyway, so he didn’t ask.

"Boy, now’s the time. Get them in there pronto," Matt ordered.

"Yes, sir," Ashe nodded and went to mist. The six operatives and Trajan weighed nothing as mist. Ashe quickly found the designated room inside the embassy. He also found three bodies inside the room when he dropped his seven passengers. One of the dead was a young woman, who looked to be a secretary or assistant. The other two wore uniforms and were obviously security guards.

Ashe was supposed to come right back out of the building and join Winkler while they waited for the ones left inside to do their job. After seeing the dead woman, her throat viciously slashed, he decided otherwise. What would they do? Send him home? Ashe followed over Trajan’s head.

His hearing still as sharp as it ever was, he heard voices on the lowest floor toward the front of the building. He’d dropped Trajan and the others on the second floor. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. At least two people were walking up. Did Trajan hear them? The six operatives had scattered in other directions, looking for terrorists and survivors. Ashe hovered right behind Trajan’s shoulder as the tall werewolf stepped inside a room, concealing himself beside the door. Ashe realized Trajan was waiting for the two to come upstairs. Pulling a pistol from his jacket pocket, Trajan waited for the terrorists to walk past. Except they didn’t. Instead, a grenade rolled right up to the doorway where Trajan stood. Ashe shrieked grenade! mentally and then gathering Trajan inside his mist again, rushed down the stairs ahead of the two who’d tossed the grenade.

Ashe didn’t know where the six operatives were, but there was sudden shouting and screaming as at least a dozen prisoners, tied up and sitting on the lower-level floor, had a grenade tossed in their midst by another captor. Desperate, Ashe gathered the prisoners up as well, somehow leaving the grenade sitting on the floor. It and the one above stairs detonated one right after another as Ashe shot skyward, going straight through the roof with fourteen screaming people inside his mist.

Somehow, Winkler had found a bullhorn and was shouting through it. "Meet at the New Zealand Embassy," he yelled, his voice magnified by the device. Ashe, unsure where the New Zealand Embassy was, made a complete circle, confused. Then Winkler and the Director began pointing in the proper direction before climbing into a squad car and skidding away. Ashe followed overhead until the car pulled up before another, smaller building nearby. Ashe zoomed right through the walls, making his passengers shriek again before dropping them all in an entryway.

Screaming and crying, still bound and in a tangle, the hostages were attempting to wriggle away. Trajan, however, grabbed Ashe as soon as he reappeared and held him in a tight bear hug. Winkler, the Director and several others rushed in and began untying the hostages.

"This is gonna take some ‘splaining," Ashe muttered. Trajan gave him an extra hug and let him go.

"Ashe, I know I don’t have to tell you to keep this quiet; national security is on the line," Winkler said inside an office later. "Matt can be counted on to keep your secrets—he already knows about Amarillo." Winkler went on to tell Ashe that the hostages were being debriefed inside the same building, and Ashe learned that three of the six operatives had been found alive inside the rubble of the British Embassy. Ashe had done as much as he could, but felt bad for the ones who hadn’t survived the attack.

"Mr. Winkler, something set those guys off—the terrorists," he said. "I think they knew we were coming, somehow."

"The Director thinks the same thing, Ashe," Winkler nodded. "But that’s for him to solve. We’ve done what we came to do. Would you like something to eat or would you rather rest for a couple of hours before we find a ride home?"

"Can I do a little of both?" Ashe held his stomach, which had been growling for half an hour. It was nearly ten in the morning, Eastern Daylight Time. Trajan had gone in search of coffee for himself and Winkler.