The End
"What the hell is going on down there?" Finn yelled. "Goddamn it! Where the hell is he?"
"Mr. Locke is in the black sedan with Boko Haram," Ghost said. He made no mention of Finn's profanity. He was wise enough to know when a man had been pushed to his limit. "It was disabled by the crash. It can't move."
"He was supposed to be safe. Minimal risk. Easy walk in and out. How could this happen?"
"There will be plenty of time to discuss it at the debriefing," Ghost said. "I'd prefer to concentrate on the situation at hand."
Finn slammed a fresh magazine into his gun and turned to the pilot. "Open the throttle, man. I know a school teacher and his mother who can go faster than this."
The pilot ignored him. He needed all his attention in order to keep the helicopter airborne in the raging storm.
Rafe closed his hand over Finn's arm. "We'll get there, buddy."
"Yeah? When? You saw that last press release. Those bastards plan to kill their hostage and blow up the money. Esposito was right. They had wanted a public platform. We've got to get there before the media does. Once Boko Haram has witnesses, they'll follow through with their plan. And Abe's smack in the middle of it..." He had to stop. One more word and he knew his voice would break.
He couldn't lose him.
But he had been ready to walk away.
Damn, he had done a lousy job of fooling himself. He wouldn't have to let Abe go. After the mission, he would have found some way to see Abe again. He might not put the same labels on what was between them as Abe did, but whatever it was, he wasn't ready to give it up. He looked at Rafe. "It can't be too late."
"It isn't."
"You warned me. I didn't listen."
Rafe squeezed firmly and released Finn's arm. "Think about it later. We are coming up on the Mall."
Finn grabbed a rope and positioned himself near the helicopter door. The other men did the same. Three on each side, just like before.
No, damn it. It wasn't like before. This wasn't simply a mission. There was no distance here. It wasn't only a hostage rescue. It was Abe's life.
Finn focused on the huge granite column that glowed through the rain, and then scanned the grounds near the Reflecting Pool. The team's chase vehicles formed a ring on the lawn, their headlights pointing inward. In the circle of light, Sandra's gray van was lying on its side, its rear side panels crushed inward. Sandra had radioed from the inside the van that her condition wasn't critical, but she was pinned down and was unable to help. Several yards away sat a black sedan. White smoke curled from the edges of the crumpled hood and was swallowed by the rain.
The helicopter hovered above the sedan. Finn grasped the rope in his left hand and his gun in his right. The men didn't waste time with discussion. This is what they were trained for. They all knew what to do.
As if materializing from the storm, six black clad commandos slid down their ropes and descended on the car. Finn landed beside the driver's door. With split-second reflexes that had been honed by years of daily practice, he sighted his target through the car window and squeezed off two shots. Double tap. Disable and kill. Glass shattered as his teammates did the same.
It was over in a heartbeat. As he had told Ibru, the Nighthawks didn't give any warnings.
And they never missed. There was no movement inside the vehicle. No sound. Nothing.
The helicopter floodlight switched on. Finn dropped his gun and wrenched open the rear door of the car. Abe was curled in the middle of the back seat, his head down, his arms wrapped around his legs. He had sat like that before when he was upset. But this time he wasn't on a crate or a cot. He was spattered with blood and wedged between two dead men.
The cry that came from Finn's throat was as savage as the thunder that crashed around him. He flung the first body out of the car and reached to pull Abe into his arms.
Abe struggled, lashing out at him with his elbow, refusing to uncurl from his crouch.
The blood wasn't his, Finn realized as he ran his hands over Abe. Thank God. He could breathe again. "Abe, you are safe," he said. "Abe, it's okay. Let go."
Abe lifted his head. Shards of glass winked from his head. His eyes were wild. "Finn?"
Finn tore his helmet and his balaclava. "It's over, sweetie. You are okay."
Abe focused suddenly. "Finn! You are here. What..." Abe whimpered as he watched Rafe and Jack remove the other bodies from the car. "It's over?"
"Yes. Come out of there, Abe."
"Where is the hostage?" Ghost called, running toward them.
"I'll check the trunk," Rafe said.
Abe shook his head and straightened up.
A small black haired boy was huddled on the car floor between Abe's knees. He was unscathed. No blood, no glass. Abe had been sheltering him with his own body.
Matthew Ibru looked thinner than he had in his photograph. His hair looked greasy, a bruise darkened the skin on his cheek and the gaze he turned toward Finn was too old for his years. It was the gaze of a child who had seen what no child should, a boy who had discovered too soon that the world was full of cruelty and sorrow and death.
Finn knew that look. He had seen it in the mirror.
Abe turned Matthew's face to his chest, put his arms around him and rocked him in an age-old rhythm of healing. His faith in the power of love shone from his soul.
Finn knew that look, too.
He had seen it in his dreams. ~~~~~~~~~~
Commander Anson – Ghost – drove with the same methodical competence with which he commanded his men. He didn't speed, yet he didn't hesitate. With Rafe riding shotgun in the passenger seat and a helicopter full of armed soldiers providing cover overhead, he steered the armored Tahoe through the rain-slick streets on the most direct route to the Nigerian Embassy.
From the back seat Abe watched the buildings slide past with a sense of inevitability. "Only a few more minutes," he said, stroking Matthew's hair. He adjusted the gray blanket they had wrapped him in. "We are almost there."
The boy burrowed his head into Abe's shoulder. He hadn't said a word since Finn had carried him from the gore-spattered car.
Abe looked at Finn. He was sitting on the other side of Mathew. He hadn't left them for an instant. While the rest of the men had cleared away the bodies, the wrecked vehicles and the shell casings, working quickly to remove any trace of their "training op" from the grounds near the monument, Finn had remained with him and the child.
If Abe had had the chance to think, he would probably have fallen apart. But there hadn't been time. The nightmare of terror and bullets had blended into a fast-forward blur as Finn had removed his blood soaked jacket and had wrapped him in a blanket like Matthew's. His hands had been gentle as a whisper as he cleaned the blood from his skin and removed the glass from his hair. His voice had pulled Abe back again and again from the brink of collapse. The tenderness in his gaze was his anchor to reality.
"How's your wrist feeling now?" Finn asked softly.
Abe glanced at the elastic bandage Jack had wrapped from his knuckles to his forearm. He was lucky the ground, where he had landed had been softened by the rain where he had landed. The joint was sprained, not broken. "It's fine."
Sandra hadn't been so fortunate. Although the bullet that hit her had been stopped by the vest, the force of the high caliber round had dislocated his shoulder.
The surviving Boko Haram terrorists who had been swept up in the team's raid had been handed over to the regular army. They would be held incommunicado until President Jonathan and the diplomats decided their fate. The documents the team had recovered from the Boko Haram base would he analyzed by Intelligence before being turned over to the Nigerians.
The terrorist's sympathizers within the embassy who had facilitated the kidnapping by giving the Boko Haram details of the Ibru family's schedule had turned out to be one of the embassy's chauffeurs. In his case, justice would be swift – he had had the misfortune of being on Nigerian soil when the Army had caught up with him minutes ago.
Against all the odds, the Nighthawks' mission was a complete success. Only one final detail remained. They had to return Matthew Ibru to his family.
Abe laid his cheek against the top of Matthew's head. Jack had examined the boy before they left the Mall and had determined he had no physical injuries that needed immediate medical attention, so there was no reason to delay his return. No physical injuries. What about the emotional scars? Was there any medical treatment for those?
Ghost slowed the SUV. Wrought-iron gates decorated with the crest of an eagle seating on a shield, flanked by horses appeared through the rain. Guards with rifles slung over their rain ponchos surrounded the vehicle and jogged alongside as they drove into the cobblestone courtyard. They passed the embassy's main entrance and came to a stop beside a door in the side of the building.
"Look, Matthew," Abe said. "You are home."
The child shivered and refused to look up.
Abe rubbed his back. "It's okay. No one's going to hurt you again."
Finn touched his hand as he gathered the child into his arms. "You'll be fine, Matthew," he murmured. "Come on, we are going to take a little walk."
Rafe exited the Tahoe fist and positioned himself beside the front fender, his gun held ready as he scanned the area. The Army formed into two lines to flank the path from the vehicle to the embassy. Abe swung open his door and got out while Finn slid across the seat with Matthew. With Ghost leading the way, Finn hunched his shoulders to protect the child from the rain and strode forward.
Before he had gone three steps, the embassy door crashed open. Nneka ran toward them, her arms outstretched. "Matthew!"
Anselm was right behind her. When he caught sight of his son, he forgot his dignity and his diplomacy training, and whooped.
Finn was engulfed in the Ibru' embrace. Abe knew the image would stay with him forever. Less than an hour ago this tall, black clad warrior had swooped down from the sky with his gun blazing to rescue him from certain death. Now he stood in the rain with a child in his arms and grinned.
Finn grinned. Oh, God. How was it possible to love him more?
At the sound of his parents' voices, Matthew's face crumbled. He launched himself into his father's arms and started to wail. He was still crying when they reached the ambassador's quarters, but the sobs were punctuated by words. English mixed with Nigerian as the horror he had endured finally came pouring out.
The formal sitting room, with its chairs upholstered in Nigerian green, and its dark wood carvings rang with the sound of emotions that needed no translation. Matthew might be a relative of the Nigerian President, the pawn in a terrorist plot, the focus of a secret mission and an international crisis... but at the moment he was merely a little boy.
Abe used the corner of his blanket to dry his eyes. He stood by the door with Finn and the commander, unwilling to intrude on the family reunion but somehow unable to move away.
Finn slipped his arm around his shoulder. "Matthew's going to heal."
"God, I hope so."
"We have got specialists who are trained to deal with this kind of trauma," Ghost said. "One of the top child psychologists in the country is on her way here."
"I'm glad." He looked at Matthew's ragged hair. "He's been through so much."
"He's already getting the best therapy there is," Finn said, nodding toward the family group. A sleep-rumpled Samson had just joined them and was holding on tightly to his big brother's hand. "His family loves him. That will get him through anything."
He turned his gaze to Finn. He understood how seeing the Ibrus' emotion must stir painful memories of his own childhood. The pain was still there – he could see it in the lines around his mouth. Was it his imagination, or did something other than pain gleam in Finn's eyes?
Nneka approached them, her smile radiant, as if she didn't notice the men were still wearing their assault gear and Abe was cloaked in a blanket. "How can I thank you enough for what you did, Abe?" she asked. "You saved my Matt's life."
"The team saved him, Nneka," Abe said. "I was never really alone."
"Yes, they are all brave men. And you are a brave man, too." She kissed Abe on both cheeks. "I will be forever in your debt, Abraham Locke. If we were not constrained by the need for secrecy, we would honor you and the team publicly in the manner you deserve."
"Seeing Matthew reunited with the people who love him is all the reward I need," Abe said.
Nneka stretched to kiss Finn and then the commander. "My uncle sends his regards. He also is in your debt."
Ghost's face softened in a rare smile. "I'm sure our President will think of some way your uncle can repay us once the treaty between our countries is ratified."
Nneka laughed. "Yes, I am certain he will."
"But we'll leave that to the diplomats." Ghost said. He dipped his head in a formal bow. "The Army will see to your safety now. On behalf of our government, I wish you and your family well, Mrs. Ibru."
And just like that it was over. The mission. Abe's reason for being here. Everything.
Finn took Abe's arm. "It's time to go home, Abe."
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