The Rogue's Captive

6 - Problem

~Tamir’s PoV~

My team works like a well-oiled machine, and in the two days we have, we get everything ready. Bastian said they’d be transporting Knox’s daughter in a convoy and though he doesn’t know how many vehicles will be involved, one thing we’re pretty sure about is that our target won’t be in the first one. Knox is smarter than that.

“We take out the first vehicle with explosives,” Joel suggests as we stand over a detailed map of the pass. Tall and thin, he doesn’t look like much of a fighter, but when it comes to strategy, I haven’t found his equal. He always sees the big picture, so I listen carefully as he jabs a long, thin finger at a spot on the map. “This bend in the road is perfect, they won’t see it coming.”

“What if someone else comes along and hits it first?” I have to ask. Killing Knox’s lackeys is one thing, and I don’t even feel great about that since a lot of them are just grunt men, doing what they’re told. Unfortunately, it’s the price we have to pay at times, but when it comes to innocent civilians, I always try to limit the casualties as much as possible. Unlike Knox.

“The packages we’ve obtained are lightweight and easy to move. We’ll put them into place just before they’re needed.”

“How will we know when that is?” Baz chimes in.

Joel points to another place on the map. “They’ll stop at this inn before entering the pass. It’s the last place to stop for a few hours, so I’d bet my life they’ll use it. One of our men will conceal himself there and let us know as soon as they leave. That’ll make it possible to accurately work out the timing for them to get to the bend. Our spy at the inn can also make sure that the girl doesn’t get into the lead vehicle, just in case.”

That sounds good to me. I like having backups built in because things can and do change on the fly. We can’t assume anything.

“What if they avoid the explosive?” I ask next.

“They won’t,” he tells me confidently. “It’s designed to look flat from a distance, like an oil spill on the road. They’ll drive right over it, and the weight of the vehicle triggers the explosion.”

If Joel has that much faith in it, I do too. I could ask where he got it, but I don’t think I want to know. Joel deals with some people I’d rather not do business with, but beggars can’t be choosers. The ends justify the means, at least in this case.

I move on to the next stage. “That’ll bring the convoy to a stop. Then what?”

“Then we take out the rear vehicle. Shoot out the tires so it’s not going anywhere. With a burning wreck in front of them and a disabled vehicle in the back, the convoy won’t have anywhere to go. We can have armed men waiting here and here.”

He points again, promising me there’s cover for them and they won’t be seen when the convoy approaches.

“We don’t know how strong a contingent the Alpha will be sending with them, so we’ll be prepared for heavy resistance. Our men will be instructed to avoid firing on the woman if at all possible.”

That’s for sure. Jenetta doesn’t do us much good if she’s dead. Her death would make her a martyr and give her father new fuel for his crusades against the surrounding packs. We need her alive and my men know that.

“I’ll lead that group,” I volunteer, but both Joel and Bastian immediately shut me down.

“No matter how good our plans are, we can’t plan for everything,” Joel reminds me.

“You’re too valuable, Tamir,” Baz adds. “And our men are trained well. They’ll take care of it and bring the survivors to us. You can wait for them on the other side of the pass.”

Sitting and waiting has never been my strong suit. Delegating the dangerous parts of a mission doesn’t feel right, and I would rather fight any day than standing back from the action, waiting for people to report to me. However, I know Baz has a point. Almost against my will, I’ve become a figurehead for our movement, and if something happens to me, it’ll be a blow to morale. I can’t take unnecessary risks, and since my men seem to think that’s what this is, I’ll have to sit this one out, frustrating as that might be.

At least our communications system lets me keep in touch with the team on the day. It’s the work of Kelvin, another of my inner circle, and a technological mastermind. Since we’re not a pack, most of us left without an Alpha when our own packs were destroyed, we can’t mind-link in the way other werewolves can. That means we need other ways of communication, and Kelvin has outdone himself with this one. Small earpieces fit around our ears with a microphone clipped beneath the lobe. The signal is so good, it even works in the narrow mountain pass. We’ve tested it a dozen times to make sure.

We’ve tested it all. We can’t afford any mistakes.

On the other side of the pass, we have another safe house, and it’s where Baz and I get set up, making sure we have cages strong and big enough to hold any of our captives. The cages are inhumane, I know, but without a permanent prison, it’s the best we can do. We try to make them comfortable anyway, with soft bedding, a rudimentary toilet and curtains to give some privacy.

Again, it’s more than Knox would do.

“They’ve just left the inn,” a voice says in my ear, the voice belonging to our spy who’s planted there. “There are three women and they all got in the second vehicle.”

That must be Jenetta and her attendants. Knox has kept her so well-hidden, only letting the pack see her at a distance, that I have only the vaguest description of what she looks like. Still, it shouldn’t be hard to pick her out. Alpha families have an aura about them, a way of holding themselves, and I imagine Knox’s daughter will have an even healthier dose of arrogance than most. She’ll give herself away the moment she opens her mouth, I have no doubt.

“That means forty-five minutes to your position, Will,” Joel responds through the earpiece. Just as I’m too ‘valuable’ to be on-site, so is Joel. He’s monitoring the operation from a small room upstairs from me. “Wait for the five-minute warning.”

Lachlan, another of my team, is waiting closer to the attack site in a concealed position, ready to confirm that the convoy is on track. I insisted on it to make doubly sure no innocent bystanders are caught up in our attack.

The seconds seem to tick by slowly even though I keep myself busy, but finally, we get the next message: “Passed the checkpoint on time. Four vehicles, target’s in the second one.”

So far, so good.

In my head, I count down the seconds, trying to feel the exact moment the attack would be happening. Though I can’t be there, I can almost feel the heat of the explosion and hear the squeal of the tires as the vehicles behind it come to a bracing stop. That’s followed by the sharp patter of gunfire as my men disable the rear vehicle. Maybe there’s more gunfire as they approach the target vehicle and the men accompanying Jenetta return fire. Are there screams? Birds overhead, protesting at the disturbance? I try to picture it all, breathing in the smoke in the air and feeling the adrenaline everyone there must be feeling.

At last, the earpiece in my ear comes to life again.

“We’ve got them, Tamir.”

Triumph flows through my veins, pure and strong, until he adds one more thing.

“But… there’s a problem.”

The warmth in my veins immediately turns cooler. “What kind of problem?”

Is she hit? Dead? My mind jumps to the worst-case scenario, not able to imagine what else it might be.

The next words, however, aren’t at all what I expect. “There are five people in the vehicle, including three women, but they’re all…”

He pauses there as my heart pounds painfully. “They’re what?”

“They’re… human.”