Shadow Ops: Danger's Heat (Kindle Worlds Novella) (A Shadow Ops Novella Book 2) by LS Silverii

Author:LS Silverii [Silverii, LS]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2015-06-27T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Voodoo steered the rental into the empty parking lot to meet with the rest of STR. They’d been holed up at a resource Rose had established through her CIA network. The complex was clean, but nothing to stick around for. Besides, they’d been busy deciphering Bonny’s next step. Hollywood’s hospital discharge was a boost to everyone’s dashed spirits.

“Look who’s back from the dead.” Billy hugged Hollywood close—the way warriors who’ve shared trauma do.

“I feel much better. The doc said to eat these pain meds until I can get the shoulder checked proper. Enough about me, what we got?”

“Your lucky find of that four-leaf clover was the game changer,” Billy said.

Hollywood associated the four-leaf clover with the famous Chicago tradition of celebrating St. Paddy’s day with a giant parade and by coloring the Chicago River green.

Billy continued, “Knowing they’re on the road to Chicago, we checked the tire tracks and width the best we could—considering the rain. Tires set apart wide, big truck or moving hauler. Looked up the vendors in Moline and asked for one-way fares. Safe assumption they’re not returning it. Bingo, Hart’s Hauler off of 27th Street leased the biggest one they have—twenty-six footer on a one-way fare. Guess who signed for it—Cranston Stoner.”

Hollywood laughed. “How stupid is Cranston Stone? Does he think that’ll cover his tracks? It’s like chasing the Apple Dumpling Gang.”

“Except Don Knotts didn’t have a WMD loaded for Chicago.”

“Their payload has to be enormous. They demanded the truck with over sixteen hundred cubic feet of loading space. I figure they got one hundred and sixty-five miles to Chicago. Fuel capacity is fifty-seven gallons at ten miles per gallon, so no need to refuel. Cruising over fifty miles per hour to avoid attention from the coppers, it should take three and a half hours.” Rose ran the numbers.

Billy threw cold water all over the plan. “All that’s great, except the rental receipt was signed at sixteen hundred hours yesterday. They got an eighteen hour head start.” “Black Hawks on their way—we got time to regroup. Can’t blow into Chicago without a plan. I don’t even know who to reach out to. Thanks to the Preacher having every agent’s identity, this damn operational embargo has left my resources thin.” Rose’s concern was evident. She’d created a career of nurturing relationships for times like these—and now she had nothing.

Voodoo chortled, “I get it. Blow into Chicago. The Windy City—get it?” She looked around for support. No one paid attention. STR enjoyed their moments of hazing each other, but when it came time to operate—there was no joking. Hollywood whispered to Voodoo and reassured her it was a good joke but now was not the time. She winced.

There was a pall over the entire unit—Hollywood sensed it even through the slight fog of prescription pain meds. Fatigue haunted them, and this last empty raid had drained their well. It was like a drug addict—the rush got harder to come by after each missed opportunity. But promises of operational success would refuel them.

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