Page 13 of Dangerous Protocol
“His usual MO is tricking or extorting young people into sending him sexually explicit photos that he can put up on his site.” Beck made a point to keep up with all of OSI’s various operations and investigations. “Grabbing a kid seems off-nominal for him.”
“Agreed, but it’s possible he’s working with someone overseas.” Jeffrey was well aware of how quickly the child sex crimes industry was growing.
“Jonathan’s on his phone putting together a team,” Beck said. “Mason will have them in the air in less than an hour.”
“Beck, there’s something else you should know.” He looked across the room at Maya, and their eyes locked. “Isla is my daughter.”
“Did you say she’s your … daughter?” Beck sounded almost as shocked as Jeffrey had been.
“Yes. I’ll explain later.” He moved back over and picked up Isla’s photograph. “Hang on a second. I’m going to send you Isla’s photo.” He snapped a quick pic with his phone, tapped the screen, and texted it to Beck and Jonathan.
“Got it,” Beck said. “Jeffrey, we’re on it.”
“Thanks. Keep me informed.” He ended the call and looked at Maya. “Now, we wait.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Touchdown in ten, y’all.”Mason Croft’s slight Texas drawl crackled through their headsets as the sleek black helo banked to the right, then straightened out. He was going to set her down about three klicks from the target’s location, and then they’d head out on foot.
Jonathan was lead on this op and gave Mason a thumbs-up from the seat next to him. Instead of heading back to their home base of Whidbey Cove up near the San Juan Islands, he and Beck had diverted their plane to meet the team in eastern Washington.
Mason was best friends with their brother, Caleb, and was engaged to their baby sister, Emily. Though she’d skin him alive for referring to her that way. It was ironic how she always lamented having such overprotective older brothers, then she married a guy like Mason who was just like them.
At first glance, he might seem like a laid-back, cowboy-hat-wearin’ good old boy, and most of the time that description suited him. But Mason could fly anything withwings or rotors, and he was also one of the deadliest men Jonathan had ever met. Which was saying a lot, since he’d spent the bulk of his adult life as a Navy SEAL. Mason also loved and cherished their sister with every fiber of his being.
Jonathan looked in the small rearview mirror overhead at the three other people who were part of this op.
Andi sat directly behind him, looking out the window, her game face firmly in place. Because they had two small children, they rarely went on ops together anymore. But Jeffrey was like a father to her, so it was only right that she be there. Not like he could’ve stopped her had he tried.
Sitting across from Andi was special operator Patrick “Hawk” Nakai from the Dark Ops division in Virginia. He just happened to be at the Pac NW facility with his new K9 partner, Remington, aka Remy, who was crashed on the floor next to him snoring his brains out. The three-year-old black lab was an Electronic Storage Detection K9 who could, obviously, fall asleep anywhere.
With so many crimes now having a cyber component, special dogs like Remy were trained to detect all types of digital media storage devices. You could take him into the worst hoarder’s house and he would be able to find things like hard drives, jump drives, thumb drives, even microSD cards hidden in a shoebox at the back of a closet stuffed with smelly socks and sausages. Those devices often contained invaluable evidence used to convict criminals.
Sherborne lived in a small house in the middle of an unassuming middle-class neighborhood, so the team wasn’t wearing their usual tactical gear. Instead, they had on street clothes with jackets to conceal the pistols they wore on their hips. His wife looked sexy as hell in her usual black, long-sleeved Henley with black skinny jeans tucked into work boots. Jonathan, Mason, and Hawk all wore old blue jeans with either a flannel shirt or a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Mason began his descent to the parking lot at the back of an abandoned strip mall.
“Weapons check.” Jonathan drew his semiautomatic pistol from the holster at his hip.
The distinctive sound of slides being locked back followed by loudclackswhen they were released filled the chopper. They all carried extra, full magazines on them.
The second the helo softly touched down, Remy lifted his head, then popped up onto all fours—wide awake and ready to get at it. Everyone unbuckled their seat belts, and when Hawk clipped on Remy’s vest and leash, he knew it was time to go to work.
Hawk rolled back the side door, and they all hopped out, then Andi turned and rolled the door shut.
Mason clicked buttons and flipped gauges, and the long blades slowly came to a stop. He swung the door open, hopped down, and made sure to close it behind him. Aftera quick walk around the bird, securing doors and putting the chocks in place, he joined them.
“Mic check.” Jonathan tapped his small earpiece.
One at a time, they each confirmed they could hear and be heard.
“We all good, Sammy?” Jonathan asked OSI’s lead tech wizard.
Sammy Joslin was back in Whidbey Cove at the main ops center. She had over-watch on every one of OSI’s active missions. While in the field, every operator wore Luna’s bio-patch. The tiny sensor tracked things like heart rate, body temp and hydration levels, and that information was constantly being transmitted back to the Ops Center.
“Give me a sec.” Keys clicked in the background. “Yep, I’ve got eyes on you. Good luck.”
“Thanks, Sammy.” Jonathan shifted his focus back to the team. “You know the plan. Andi and Mason, you take the back of the house. Hawk, Remy and I will approach from the front.”