Chapter Text
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania – Public Library
A green and white Philly Eagles hat pulled low, concealed his facial features, and the long locks of black hair from the wig he wore disguised his actual graying hair. Ash paid the cabbie in cash and slid out of the Prius. Using a fake limp he ambled towards the library entrance as if he had not a care in the world. The jacket he selected made him appear to possess a paunchy beer belly, which completed his ensemble and purposeful deception.
Taking a round-about route, he eventually ended up at the public computer section. He selected one where his back was to a wall, ensuring no one could walk behind him without him noticing. He inserted a USB stick and started a program which would wipe any trace of his usage of the computer and encrypt his path. He might be PNG but he still possessed all the skills he used when he operated. After accessing the darknet and typing a message he hit send.
Leaning forward, he rested his chin in his palm as he waited for a response. The last three weeks had been full of frustration which required patience. At first, he couldn’t locate his son but then found him hiding like a pussy at his team leader’s home. Again, he questioned if his wife had played him the fool and if Clay were actually of his blood. Though he told Clay he was proud of him when he stopped by his apartment to ask him out for a drink, that was all bullshit meant to establish a link to Clay so everyone would assume Clay relayed confidential information to him.
He also waited a long time for Olivia to come back with a name. She couldn’t locate any marriage certificate in either the U.S. or in Australia, so he assumed the little shit lied to him. But why, he couldn’t figure out, until he happened upon an international news article. An old sea dawg who lived on Keeling Island claimed a combined force of American and Australian military sunk his trawler, the Kobayashi Maru, and his tale included mentions of someone being punched and knocked into the water when he failed to board a boat with two others named Clay and Katie.
Since he had Katie Kilpatrick’s name, he began digging for more details. He found that Karen and Gareth Dilbert, an international power couple with strong ties to the defense of both Australia and the U.S. had gone missing, and a local dive master and the magistrate had been arrested for illegal shark fin harvesting and for attempted murder for leaving the Dilberts in the ocean.
The articles never indicated who rescued the couple, but that all occurred at the same time his source fed him bogus information about Bravo Team rescuing American hostages in Mozambique. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where and what Bravo Team had been and done. From there, he made plans once he found out Katie Kilpatrick was in the SAS.
A notion which disgusted him … women had no business being in elite assault teams. But it did explain how she was able to block his blow and set him on his ass with a kick to his privates. His point about females not belonging proved valid. She was easily abducted outside the Ornery Octopus and never noticed when the drugs were slipped in her drink. His contact said she went down without a fight in the parking lot.
The only hitch in his plan, one he had not counted on initially was finding out Clay was not on active duty … the wuss was still on medical leave for some reason, which he still had not discovered. Most likely it had to do with all those bandages on his back. And then the robbery at the mini-mart … that one almost took care of the problem for him. If the man high on PCP had only aimed better, his pathetic excuse for a son might already be pushing up daisies.
It did surprise him when Bravo took Clay with them … but served his initial purpose and plan. That is why he snuck out of his Baltimore hotel room, where he was staying to do a book signing tomorrow, took an hour bus ride up to Philadelphia, and a taxi to this library. He would be back in Baltimore in a few hours, no one the wiser for him making this trip, thus solidifying an alibi, and nothing would be traceable to him, even if for some reason his purging program failed.
The ping of a response pulled him from his ruminations. He read the message, and a smile grew. He would not count his chickens yet, but with any luck, Clay, Katie, and the rest of Bravo would not be returning from the Philippines, and his pugnacious son would never have the chance to erase his footsteps.
Ash tapped a few more keys, ensured the program wiped his history from the computer, pulled out a cloth and wiped down the keyboard, not leaving any trace. He stood and pocketed his USB drive, then ambled out again making sure his face was turned away from any cameras.
Special Air Service Regiment – TOC
Bravo team entered the tactical operations room used by Koala’s squad. They noted solemn yet determined expressions on all five men who turned from paying attention to their intelligence officer at the front of the room to the American SEAL team entering. Blackburn and Ellis moved towards the front, as the rest including Davis went to the rear of the room.
Though Mandy couldn’t peg this on his father for certain, Clay’s gut told him the same thing Jason’s did … Ash was involved somehow. Unsure what type of reception he would get from Katie’s squad or if they knew about the potential association, Clay held back and was the last to enter. His progress slow and uncomfortable, his muscles still sore from being tasered, and the stitches in his thigh pulled a bit with each step, he tried to hide his limp as he followed his team.
He halted when Koala’s gaze landed on him. He didn’t fear any physical retribution, none of his protective brothers would allow any of them to get within arm’s distance of him, but guilt plagued him. If he had not called Katie his wife, he believed Ash wouldn't have used her to get to him, and she wouldn’t be mixed up in this. Clay couldn’t read the expression on the normally pleasant squad leader, so he continued to hobble to a chair in the back.
Koala stood and rounded the table upon spying Clay. The contusions on his face and the way he walked concerned him. “What are you doing here?”
Apparently, Bravo team didn’t like his tone, as evidenced by the wall of muscled men which formed between him and Clay in an instant and the hard planes of Hayes’ tense features and his challenging glare as he said, “Back off.”
Palms going up and facing outward, Koala said, “Whoa, no need to bite my head off. He looks like bloody hell. Katie said he was injured, but on the mend. He doesn’t appear so much healed to me … limping, bruised jaw, swollen eye … he should be resting at home, not here.”
Jason took a breath, realizing they all overreacted, but after recent events, they refused to allow Clay to be harmed again. From behind them, Clay said, “I’m fine,” which caused Jason to turn towards his rookie.
“Sit down and shut up,” Jason ordered Spenser.
Clay gingerly lowered himself into a chair and found Trent and Sonny flanking him in short order and Brock standing behind him literally covering his back as Cerb took up a position directly in front of him, standing on guard. It took all Clay had not to laugh out loud, it wouldn’t be appreciated or appropriate, but in some way, their display of protectiveness delighted him … something his psychotic father was not capable of doing. Ashhole had never provided him one ounce of protection.
Shifting his gaze back to Koala, Jason said, “He will be fine for ops only, not field work.”
“What happened?” Danvers asked.
Blackburn cleared his throat to redirect attention to him. “Later. Let’s focus on the situation at hand. Have you made any headway in locating Kilpatrick?”
Paul DeSoto, an agent with Australian Secret Intelligence Service, assigned when red flags popped up as someone searched for information on a current SAS operator, spoke, “So far, the only details we’ve uncovered is security footage from the Ornery Octopus parking lot camera, which shows Kilpatrick being tossed into a van. Traffic cameras tracked it until it was lost about a mile from the marina. We have been unsuccessful in locating any sign of the van since that night.”
Mandy stepped forward. “One of my analysists found something which might be helpful. Chatter on a back channel didn’t throw any normal flags, but an established terrorist group based in Puerto Princesa, a coastal city on Palawan Island in the western Philippines, is known to be involved in kidnappings on land and at sea. They use the ransom obtained from their victim’s families to fund their activities.
“One communique indicated they seized and have for sale a high-value female. It appears they are branching out … willing to sell people to the highest bidder. We have not determined if it is Kilpatrick, but the timing is consistent with her disappearance. We’re continuing to dig, but if it is her, they are said to keep their captives on a moving trawler, until they are ready to be exchanged. At which time they put the person in an inflatable dingy, provide coordinates to whoever paid the ransom, and are long gone before anyone arrives to pick up the person. We expect they will use the same MO for selling as well.”
Clay listened as Mandy continued to give details. He possessed a powerful desire to join his brothers and take out the pirates who profited by kidnapping innocent people, but he understood that Jason would shut him down and would not be budged one inch … especially in the pitiful condition he now found himself in. If only he had avoided being shot, knifed or have his face used as a punching bag, he might’ve been able to sway his team leader, but he had no chance in hell now.
His thoughts drifted to Katie, hoping she fared well. From the accounts Mandy relayed to him on the plane, this group provided nourishment to their captives, preferring them to be alive when the ransom is paid. By creating and maintaining a reputation of delivering live captives, they ensured the probability the families of future victims would pay to get their loved ones back. But this new twist, selling to the highest bidder was an unknown, and the potential existed they might treat their prisoners differently.
Clay bowed his head and rubbed his forehead, hoping to stave off the pounding headache forming. He lifted and turned to the right as a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Need something for the pain?” Trent asked.
“No, I’m good.”
Trent eyed Clay. “Don’t be puerile.”
“What?”
“Childishly silly,” Trent clarified.
“I’m not,” Clay pouted, to get a rise out of Trent.
“Un huh?” Trent smirked, glad to see a little humor from the kid. He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket, shook out two, and handed them to Clay. “Take them.”
Clay didn’t resist, he popped them in expecting to dry swallow, but a water bottle appeared to his left.
“Don’t want you choking on the pills, Ponyboy.” Sonny shoved the bottle into Spenser’s hand, and a satisfied grin grew as the kid downed half the contents.
A short time later, the briefing concluded. With no active target yet, Koala escorted Bravo to portable barracks which had been assigned to them for the duration of their stay.
Unknown Location
Katie woke, noting a change in her circumstances, but before she could scan her new area, she was consumed by coughing. Winded after what felt like hacking up a lung, Katie lay back on the soft bed and cracked an eye open. A single porthole allowed sunshine to fill the small cabin.
Her head throbbed as she peered around. One wrist had a heavy, wide manacle encircling it, and a sturdy chain ran from the loop on one side of the cuff and was attached to a pipe midway between the bed she lay on and what appeared to be a lavatory with a sink and toilet. On a tiny round table secured to the flooring, sat a tray with a sandwich and a plastic cup.
Recognizing she needed to keep her strength up, she pushed to a seated position, intending to get the food they left. It was probably the same peanut butter sandwich they fed her every day, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and at least they had not chosen to starve her. Her legs wobbly from non-use over the past, who knows how many days, Katie made her way to the table.
Lightheadedness accompanied her on the short trip, and she sank onto the little stool and devolved into another fit of coughing. Her hand shaking, she reached for the water cup and managed not to spill any of the precious liquid as she brought it up to her mouth and sipped.
Tightness in her chest didn’t bode well. At a minimum, she developed a chest cold, but with her luck, it would likely turn into pneumonia. She suffered bouts of it several times as a child and teen. The damp and cold engine room she had been in increased the persistent cough in the last day or so. This dry and warmer area might prevent full-blown pneumonia if it had not already set in.
The actions of her captors confused her. They rarely spoke, in fact, other than the ‘you’re bait’ comment from one, none had said a single word to her, though she caught fragments of conversations which occurred outside her room. They wanted her alive, that was obvious, but unless they planned on doing a proof-of-life communication, she couldn’t figure out why because frankly, if she were bait, they could kill her now and no one would be the wiser.
She nibbled on the sandwich, forcing herself to eat, although her stomach wanted nothing to do with the sustenance. After a quarter of it, she set it down, unable to consume more, but didn’t worry, since it would be there for her later. Katie finished the water, then made her way back to the bunk.
Pulling the thin blanket over her shoulders, Katie lay down and shut her eyes. Koala, please be careful. I don’t want any of you hurt coming after me … but please hurry too. A wave of racking coughs seized her body again, leaving her exhausted and covered in a light sheen of perspiration as her fever increased.
Drifting off again, she didn't glimpse the man peering in at her from the passageway via the small window. If she had, she might've shuddered or prepared to kick him in the balls upon witnessing the predatory leer.