Not Mine to Keep (The Costa Family)

Constanța, Romania

We were twenty mikes—a.k.a. minutes—from the Barone compound that was sandwiched between a forest and the Black Sea.

It was 0400 hours now, and The League had confirmed with their eyes in the sky both Rocco and Claudio were currently on-site and more than likely awake, anticipating the ambush to happen in Oslo.

Hudson, Gabriel, and the other team members we’d assembled at the last second were also a few mikes from their target. I wouldn’t be able to hear the good news Calliope’s aunt was safe, because I’d already be falling from the sky to infil the compound at the south side when they infiltrated the home in Norway.

Sebastian Renaud, Sean McGregor, and Sean’s cousin, Cole McGregor, were heading up a team of ten other League members and were in place on a yacht off the coast, waiting for our go-ahead to move in by sea.

When Constantine and I had arrived in Romania, the six former SF guys we’d asked for help, who were now in private security and stationed abroad, had been at the airport in Bucharest, waiting for us with Sebastian.

Sebastian’s words of encouragement had gone something like, “No one dies tonight. My wife is pregnant with our second kid. Cole’s wife—my sister—just had a kid. You already know the drill with Emilia.” He’d stabbed at the air, looking at us all like he’d kill us himself if we fucked up and placed him or his men in danger. “We clear? No one goes home in a body bag.”

“Roger that,” I’d said, not a fan of taking orders from someone who’d never served, but from what I knew, Sebastian had killed a hell of a lot more bad guys than I had, so I supposed that counted for something. I’d tip my hat to him and be an obedient soldier tonight if it’d help get the job done, because as long as it was mission success and I made it home to Calliope, I didn’t give a damn who was calling the shots.

It’d been a few years since I’d done a HAHO jump, and I wasn’t afraid of heights, but the idea of not making it home sure as hell scared me now. I’d never dealt with the weird butterfly sensation in my stomach pre-op before. Normally, I was pumped up and charged, ready to go. But now? The afterlife be damned.

I took a knee and went through my things, doing another weapons check. I had my Ruger Precision rifle, which was my preferred long-range shooter. I was also equipped with a Sig Sauer P320-M18, which was the civilian version of the military’s M18. Then there was the seven-inch blade sheathed at my side. Plenty of ammo. Night vision goggles attached to my helmet. The same body armor I’d worn as a Ranger, but much improved since then. So yeah, I was good to go.

Standing now, I snatched my phone from my pocket and started toward Constantine, who was talking to our pilot. I read Calliope’s last message, my mind wandering back to our kiss goodbye at my parents’ house yesterday.

My Wife: Be careful. Come home soon. X

My Wife: And don’t forget the research I sent you. I know The League did their own, but just in case . . .

I’d changed her contact name in my phone yet again on the flight over.

Me: Hopefully no tunnels here, but I let the team know to be on the lookout. Thank you

Me: And define ‘X’

My Wife: Love

My lips twitched into a full-on grin at the sight of the word instead of the standard “kiss” for an X.

Me: Well, then X squared.

My Wife: Define X squared.

Me: Love. You. More.

I backspaced the words before I sent the message, because fuck, I couldn’t confess my love over text before I was about to infil a compound and kill people. It’d look like an “If I die” text and not genuine.

Me: You know exactly what it means.

My Wife: Mmm-hmm. Tell me when you get home.

Me: Roger that

Me: And don’t be nervous. Everything will be okay. Your aunt is minutes away from being safe, and I’m about two hours away from being on a plane to head home to you.

I powered off my phone before I could read her response, feeling a bit torn up about making a promise like that without being prophetic and knowing the final outcome. I tossed my phone to the pilot to hold on to, then turned my attention to my brother as he checked his MK 13 sniper rifle.

“When we get in there, don’t forget that The League wants Claudio taken out alive if possible.” I didn’t need the reminder from him, but I had a feeling what was coming next. “And Rocco—”

“Is yours?” I finished for him, then looked over at the SF guys who’d be having our six as Foxtrot Team tonight, grateful for their assist.

Constantine set aside his rifle and wrapped his hand over my shoulder. “I don’t care who gets him. I just want him dead so he can’t hurt anyone anymore.” Well, I hadn’t expected that. “So if you have the shot, take it. Fucking take his head right off.”

After we’d HAHO’d in, the four towers were simultaneously taken out by our SF guys, giving us fire superiority with Foxtrot Team on overwatch.

We left three guys to handle suppressive fire while Constantine and I moved on the target, passing through enemy territory.

“Shift fire,” Constantine mouthed to me just before we split ways as planned to flow in, letting the tangos believe we were still striking the main area of the compound, when in reality, we were about to infil our target locations.

I set my back flat to the brick wall on the south side, holding my Ruger while waiting for a clear path.

“This is Foxtrot One,” the team leader for our SF backup said over my tactical earpiece. “Alpha Two, you have two tangos on your nine o’clock, coming in hot,” he let me know.

I pushed the small button on the headset at my neck to respond, “That’s a good copy.” Taking a knee, I knocked my night vision back in place. I shifted around the wall and took out the two marks on my dirty side—a.k.a. the area where shots were being fired. “Tangos down.”

“This is Foxtrot Two, you’re clear to move, Alpha One and Two.”

“Roger,” my brother and I responded in unison.

Keeping my head low, still under NODs, I started for my target location.

“This is Alpha One. Three more tangos down. Entering the Rabbit Hole,” my brother shared.

I held back on the be careful warning to my brother with two other teams on the line.

“This is Delta One,” Sebastian announced a minute later. “My team, breachers up. It’s a go.”

“Roger,” we all answered before a battery of gunfire sounded from somewhere on the property, and it wasn’t coming from my point of entry, or from the March Hare’s House, which was the building I was about to breach.

The League had gone with Alice in Wonderland as our mission theme. It somehow felt fitting, but hopefully my wife was wrong and we wouldn’t be falling down any actual holes. Or in this case, tunnels.

“Alpha One, you good?”

“Four tangos down. But I have eyes on the Mad Hatter,” Constantine alerted back, letting us know he had Rocco Barone in his sights. I’d prefer he have my six right now.

“Keep him alive until we get the White Rabbit. He may need to lead us to him,” Sebastian popped over the line after their breaching charges went off in the distance. “This is Delta One,” he continued once they successfully breached the property. “Do you copy, Alpha One?”

No response from Constantine. “Alpha One, do you copy?” I asked this time at the sound of more gunfire in the distance—not from Constantine’s direction, at least. But the fact he was unresponsive had me barking out, “Foxtrot Three, take the March Hare’s House instead. I need to head to the Rabbit Hole.” Already on the move, not waiting for confirmation, I ditched my current path, needing to get to Constantine and determine why he was radio silent.

“Foxtrot Three. On it,” I barely heard in my earpiece as I took down two more tangos, nearly getting clipped in the same arm that Esposito’s wife shot me as I rounded a thick bank of shrubs.

“This is Foxtrot Two,” overwatch began. “Alpha Two, hold position. You have a sniper waiting for you to take that next corner.”

I halted and slammed my back to one of the walls of shrubs and waited for Foxtrot to handle the asshole on the long gun.

“This is Delta Two,” Sean piped up over comms. “White Rabbit is on the move. Looks like he’s heading to an exfil spot outside the compound. He’s heavily guarded. I need backup.”

“This is Delta Three. On it,” Cole McGregor said.

“Alpha Two, come in. This is Foxtrot Three, you’re clear to move to the Rabbit Hole. I repeat, you’re clear to move.”

“That’s a good copy.” Not wasting any more time, I flowed to the target location. “Anyone have eyes on Alpha One? On the Mad Hatter?” I asked, forgetting my call sign, but so help me, if anything happened to Constantine . . .

“Nothing,” someone said from some-fucking-where over comms. I was starting to lose focus, worried I was already too late to get to Constantine.

“Entering the Rabbit Hole.” No call sign again. I needed to pull it together. I knocked my NODs up when I entered the lit-up building and swapped my rifle for my Sig and knife. “Clearing the property now. No sign of Alpha One or the Mad Hatter,” I said as I began clearing rooms, finding the four dead tangos my brother had mentioned, which meant I was going in the right direction.

“This is Delta One, overwatch has eyes on the White Rabbit and his men. Engaging now.” Sebastian let us know he had Claudio Barone in his sights. “Still no sign of Alpha One. Delta Four and Six, move into positions.”

“This is Delta Two. Alpha Team, be advised, he . . .”

I stopped listening to the chatter on comms the moment I rounded the corner and saw Rocco. And not just him. He was crouched alongside Constantine, a knife beneath my brother’s throat. Constantine was slumped against the wall, head hung forward and eyes shut.

“Move and he dies,” Rocco warned.

“He looks dead already.” I did my best not to lose it at my words and empty an entire magazine into the bastard.

“I drugged him. He’s out cold. But alive,” Rocco sneered, not removing his eyes from me. “You know I like to play with my food first before I kill it.”

I lunged forward on impulse but stopped the second he nicked my brother’s neck with the blade. Standing six feet away from him, I kept my Sig trained on Rocco, unsure what the hell to do right now.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Rocco said, his tone eerily calm.

“You weren’t ahead of us this time. Your inside source at AISE screwed up.” I tapped at my neck and shared over comms, “I have the Mad Hatter. Has the White Rabbit been neutralized?”

“Not the worst code name for me.” Rocco shrugged. The sick prick. “Better than Cinderella like those asshole AISE officers called me on their op five years ago before I flipped an agent.”

“The one you flipped is about to get strung up on charges and hung right along with you.” Not that I plan to let you make it out alive.

At the slight twitch of Constantine’s foot, I about choked out a breath of relief Rocco hadn’t been lying about him being alive.

“This is Delta One.” Sebastian finally came over the line. “The White Rabbit is down. Pulse is faint. Everyone needs to exfil now. We just got word there’s a drone locked in overhead and missile capable. It’s not one of ours or the Romanians’. Someone may be looking to destroy evidence.”

At the news, I hissed to Rocco, “Who hired you to start another conflict in Afghanistan? Get them on the phone and tell them to stand down. They’re about to kill you with a drone strike.”

“And kill you and your brother. I guess we all go down.” The look in his eyes betrayed his casual tone. He didn’t want to die.

“Russian oligarch,” he grunted out, his chest heaving from a deep sigh of all fucking things right now. “He’s not going to back down if I call.” He looked toward the hallway behind me, as if contemplating a way out that wouldn’t involve capture or death.

“Alpha One, Alpha Two: you’re the last ones in there. Evac immediately,” Sebastian rushed out that time. “We have incoming. Sixty seconds out. Do you copy?”

I could shoot Rocco and hope to kill him before he slit my brother’s throat, but I’d never be able to drag Constantine out in time with a missile already locked on to us.

“Such a fucking dilemma,” Rocco said, pushing the knife closer to Constantine’s jugular. “You either ask for my help to get you two out or leave your brother here to die so you can make a run for it.”

“Forty seconds,” Sebastian said into my ear, and I shook my head and lowered my Sig to my side. I’d never clear the compound with Constantine in time.

“Working on a way out,” I told Sebastian, not taking the time to announce myself first. “What’s your backup exit plan?” I asked Rocco, unsure if I could believe him, but at this point, I had no choice but to take my chances.

“Not sure if we’ll find our way out of the maze, but it’s better than getting blown to fucking pieces, right?”

“Tunnels,” I said under my breath. But if his old man hadn’t gone to them for an escape plan, that meant they weren’t exactly user friendly and hadn’t been operated by anyone on-site in recent years—something my wife had mentioned. “Help me with him.” It took every part of me to ask that. Even if Rocco removed the knife from beneath Constantine’s throat, I wouldn’t be able to shoot him until I knew where the alleged tunnel entrance was, and he’d anticipate that move.

“Weapons down. Same time. All of them,” he ordered. “You can fight me once we’re underground, don’t worry.”

I set aside the Sig and knife, then quickly went for the rifle sling and removed the Ruger. “We’re out of time. We need to go.”

A flash of hesitation crossed his face, but he tossed the knife.

I hurried to Constantine, kicked away his rifle resting near his limp body that Rocco had opted not to take for whatever reason, then tossed my brother’s sidearm, too.

“Let’s go,” I directed to Rocco now that we were all weaponless, and we hoisted Constantine from under his armpits to drag him to safety with us.

Well, I sure as hell hoped to safety.

I met Rocco’s eyes, both of us sweating and breathing hard, and we began down the hall. I let the motherfucker who once tortured Constantine lead the way, uncertain if he was leading us all to our deaths.

“There,” Rocco remarked, lifting his chin to point the direction we had to go—through a narrow and dark passageway.

I quickly knocked my NODs back in place so I could use my night vision to see in the dark, then grabbed hold of my brother with both hands and crouched even lower to fit through the snug entrance.

The fact Rocco hadn’t taken off on his own for his freedom once I was weaponless meant he had plans that involved keeping us alive.

“Ten seconds, why don’t I see you two yet?” Sebastian rasped over comms, not identifying himself.

I didn’t have time to think through what would happen next, or to answer Sebastian and tell him the plan, because the ground rumbled, and the regret I never told Calliope I loved her was the last thing on my mind before everything went dark.