Creed 3: Undercover, page 9
Reporting the news was one thing, but he was using his platform to hurt his brother and his sister-in-law. And for what? Because she rejected his ass. Yeah, it was in Victor’s best interest to steer clear of the vindictive asshole, but Lincoln wasn’t running for office. He wasn’t concerned about voters. Therefore, he absolutely had no problem getting his hands dirty.
He leaned down, gathered a handful of Brent’s blonde highlights, and yanked the reporter to his feet. He was bleeding from the mouth and forehead and seemed as if he was fighting to stay conscious as he struggled to stand on wobbly legs.
“Call the police if you want,” Lincoln sneered. “According to our United States government, I’m in Afghanistan.”
Unwilling to support his dead weight, Lincoln released his hair, allowing him to fall. The reporter hit the ground with a thud and howled out in pain. For good measure, Lincoln pushed his size thirteen boot against his neck.
“You listen to me, you motherfucker! If you fuck with my family again, someone is gonna find you rotting somewhere!”
Lincoln was unmoved by the gurgling noises as he pushed his boot to his neck. He kept pushing until he was convinced that the grimy reporter fully understood the consequences of his future actions. Only when satisfied his message had been successfully delivered did he remove his boot from Brent Trainer’s neck.
Brent had curled into the fetal position and was wailing like a wounded animal as Lincoln stalked out of the parking garage, avoiding the cameras the same way he had when he entered.
14
Donatella
“‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.’ Good people, that comes from Romans 8:28.”
Donna looked around at the rest of the congregation and wondered if anyone else was bored as all fuck and tired of listening to Bobby Lee’s long ass sermon. After sitting on a hard ass bench for at least three hours, she was on the verge of faking a seizure.
Kelly reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s almost over,” he whispered in her ear. “It has to be because I’m about ready to blow my fucking brains out.”
Donna chuckled softly. “Dude loves to hear his own voice.”
“No shit. So, I think I may have located the armory.”
She turned to see if he was serious. “Yeah?” she asked with raised brows.
Donna felt a rush of excitement. The sooner they got something on the preacher, the sooner she could return to her life.
“Yeah. I think they keep the weapons in that red barn behind the main house. Yesterday, Harry Barber asked me to take a ride to Joliet with him and a few of the fellas.”
Harry Barber was Robert Lee Khal’s righthand man. The Feds suspected that he was the man in charge of the buying and selling of illegal firearms. So, if he was taking Kelly on a run, that meant he was gaining their trust.
Donna was making progress as well since she’d been living in the main house with the rest of Bobby Lee’s future wives. In the commune, everyone had a job to do. Her job was working on the membership committee. With that came sorting and keeping account of charitable donations. She’d also been assigned to help out with the Glory Gala, a formal ball created to court the wealthy. To Bobby Lee, absolutely everything was about money. He made that very clear during one of his sermons where he successfully preached his members into turning over their income for the good of the family. Most of the congregation had outside jobs. They would work eight-hour days just to return to the commune and work more. Some even sold their homes, moved into the commune, and handed the money from the sale right over to the church aka Robert Lee Khal.
The sound of eager applauding alerted Donna that the self-observed, so-called holy man had finally shut the fuck up. When she smiled and started clapping frantically, it wasn’t a performance. She was genuinely ecstatic that the service was finally reaching its end.
Joining the rest of the sheep, she stood and shouted praises to the lord. Donna looked around and noticed that although they were verbally praising God, they were actually worshipping Robert Lee Khal.
Kelly grabbed her hand as they moved around the church, engaging in brief conversations with the parishioners. Donna was amazed at how many seemingly educated and successful people allowed themselves to be brainwashed by the false prophet. She was mesmerized listening to one woman speak about how miserable she’d been as a partner in a law firm before she joined The Blood of The Chosen until she was tapped on the shoulder.
“Sister Kateri,” a feminine voice came from behind.
Donna smiled when she turned around and saw Clara, a striking, seemingly sweet woman who might have been in her late forties. According to Vera, she had been a member for twenty-five years.
“What’s up, Miss Clara?” She shared a smile of her own.
“The prophet would like to see you.” Her voice was gentle and soothing. “He’d like for you to meet him by the pond.
“Okay. Thank you, Miss Clara.”
She nodded and walked away. Donna turned back to Kelly who was eyeing her curiously. She placed her hand on his shoulder and addressed the small circle of folks who were obviously oblivious to the fact that they were in a cult.
“I’ve been summoned. I’ll see you guys later.”
After the goodbyes, Donna stood on her toes and kissed Kelly on the lips. “Sweetheart, I’ll be back.”
It was important for them to keep up the appearance of being a happy couple. Although a few of the members knew she had been moved to new and better sleeping quarters, and that she’d been chosen to be one of the prophet’s many wives, she was still playing the role of a woman reluctant to leave her man.
“Alright, babe. I’ll see you at dinner.”
Donna nodded and walked away.
“You two make a beautiful couple,” she heard a woman say as she walked away. The comment was ridiculous, especially since everyone knew she was set to marry Bobby Lee soon.
She maneuvered through the crowd and walked out into the warm sun. Even though it was late afternoon, it was still hot out.
She walked over rocks and through grass, passing three brick buildings that had been converted to sleeping quarters for the members. Since everyone had attended church services, the compound, which was normally covered with people working the grounds either building or tending the land, was unusually peaceful.
Since joining the Blood of The Chosen, Donna barely had any time to herself. For breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she was always surrounded by other members. She was never alone. So, she walked slow, appreciating every second of serenity.
It was five more minutes before Donna arrived at the pond. Bobby Lee was standing with his back turned to her, flinging rocks into the water. Yet, somehow, he knew she’d arrived.
“Join me, Kateri,” he said without turning around.
He was wearing a white buttoned-down shirt and tan linen pants. His wavy blonde mane was blowing freely in the wind. Donna walked over and stood next to him, and gazed out into the water. Even though it was breezy outside, the water was unusually still.
“I have something for you.” He turned and presented her with a rectangular box. When she was hesitant, he grabbed her hand and placed the box inside. “Open it.”
Donna opened the box. Inside was a diamond choker with a sapphire cross embedded in the center. The beauty of it took her breath away.
“Oh, my God. This…this is beautiful,” she gushed. “But I couldn’t possibly accept this.”
“Don’t worry. It’s a loaner. I want you to wear it to the gala Saturday.”
“The gala?”
Donna was a little confused. She thought only certain members were allowed to attend the gala. And since her cover was a broke waitress, she had assumed she wasn’t invited.
“Kateri, the Glory Gala is the most important day of the year for the church. Recruiting elite members of society is detrimental to the goal of legitimizing our church. And with your beauty, my dear, you will be the prize we’ll dangle in front of them. It’s what we must do to introduce them to the Lord’s light.”
Donna continued to play her role and shook her head as if she were unsure. She looked up and stared into his illuminated, hazel eyes, noticing for the first time the tiny specs of olive green. Strangely, she had never been so close to him before. Yet, he was seriously expecting her to marry him.
“We need you to look the part. Clara has chosen a gown for you and some of the ladies will handle your hair and makeup.”
Donna nodded and closed the box.
“The Bible says, ‘For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.’ Kateri, are you a servant of God? Do you have faith?”
“I do,” Donna responded eagerly.
Bobby Lee smiled and held her face within his hands. Good looking or not, his touch was cringeworthy and made her long for the feeling of Lincoln’s touch.
“Now, sweet child, your work begins.”
15
Lincoln
After getting through the rigorous security protocols at the Pentagon, Lincoln entered the elevator. When he arrived at his designated floor, he stepped into the hall and headed to the Situation Room. Leaning on the wall just outside the door was Tahira Raji. She was wearing a cream tailored pantsuit with matching heels, and of course her traditional hijab. The woman was always very well put together.
“As-Salaamu Alaikum,” Lincoln greeted as he approached.
“Wa-Alaikum Salaam,” she returned with a smile.
“You waiting for me?”
She pushed off the wall and folded her arms. “Don’t flatter yourself, handsome. I just didn’t want to go in there until I absolutely had to. We’re waiting on SECDEF. Although…you do look good in that uniform.”
Lincoln frowned and moved closer to Tahira. The Secretary of Defense attending a briefing for a routine military operation was a first for him. So, it was pretty safe to conclude that there was nothing routine about what was going down. Something catastrophic must have occurred. Truthfully, he should have realized it the moment Tahira waltzed into the restaurant and summoned him.
“General Gray is inside as well,” she informed with a raised brow.
“What? Tahira, what’s happened?”
“A plane has been taken. Among the passengers are two US ambassadors, Senator Newman, and one very important CIA operative who’s carrying top-secret documents.” Tahira sighed and handed him an orange envelope with the word ‘CLASSIFIED’ stamped on it. Before he could open it, she said, “Colonel, you’re on your way to Mosul.”
“Mosul?” Lincoln asked, perplexed. “Where was the plane taken from?”
“Saudi. Your main objective is to get our operative back, hopefully alive. If you can’t, you are to secure those documents and neutralize the insurgents.”
Lincoln frowned and glared at Tahira. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Main objective? What about the senator and the ambassadors?
A nonchalant shrug let him know that the survival of the other passengers was inconsequential.
“Who took the plane?” he asked.
“Don’t know. No one has taken credit yet. But, know this…” She moved closer, staring him right in the eye. “The most important person on that plane is that CIA operative. He has information that—”
When she stopped speaking and looked past his shoulder, Lincoln turned around. Martin Blake, the Secretary of Defense, along with his entourage were headed towards them.
“Colonel Creed,” he greeted with his hand out.
Lincoln accepted his hand and shook. “Good morning, Sir.”
He smiled. “How’s the senator?”
“He’s well, Sir. Enjoying retirement. Thank you for asking.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said to Tahira.
“Sir,” was her simple response.
Lincoln noticed that he stared at Tahira a little longer than would be considered normal. He also noticed that she wasn’t exactly appreciative. She blew out a breath as if irritated and reached for the doorknob.
“Allow me.” The senior official attempted to open the door for her.
“I got it,” she said curtly as she opened the door, thwarting his attempt to be a gentleman.
Lincoln said nothing as she entered the conference room. The dynamics of their relationship was of no concern to him.
He grabbed the door before it closed and turned to the senior administrator. “After you, Sir,” Lincoln offered.
The man grunted something incomprehensible and entered the situation room. Lincoln followed him inside and closed the door behind him. As he made his way to the large conference table, he struggled to keep his composure. Admittedly, his steps faltered when he noticed that Amber Kerry, the White House Chief of Staff was already sitting at the table. Lincoln didn’t have to open the envelope to realize that whoever the captured CIA operative was, he or she had some information the United States government did not want to share.
Amber looked up from a piece of paper and noticed that he and Martin had entered the situation room. She placed the paper on the table and cleared her throat.
“Shall we begin, ladies and gentlemen?” she asked, silencing the room.
Lincoln and his team had boots on the ground in Iraq less than twenty-four hours after leaving the Pentagon. The TOC, Tactical Operations Center had been set up just four miles from the small private airstrip connected to Mosul International Airport.
While the soldiers prepped their gear and conducted equipment checks, Lincoln briefed the detachment commanders. The plan was to dispatch two platoons of twelve to breach the aircraft, rescue the CIA Operative and/or secure the classified documents. Saving the other hostages would be a bonus, but not the objective. It was clear the Pentagon wasn’t concerned in the least about preserving the lives onboard or they wouldn’t have sent the Rangers.
In light of his meticulous nature, he went over the mission again and again until he felt that his commanders fully understood the objective. Lincoln planned to coordinate from the Command Center. Leading one platoon was combat pilot, Major Keisha Stonebridge, a tough as nails Brooklyn native who behaved as if combat was her calling. The second platoon leader was Major Colby York, a daredevil combat pilot who had previously completed two tours in Iraq. They didn’t have much manpower for the mission, but Lincoln was confident in his Rangers.
“Get ‘em together, Key,” he instructed the Major.
“Yes, sir,” she acquiesced before leaving of the room.
Lincoln glanced over at General Gray, the J-SOC—Joint Special Operations Commander. Maybe he wanted the task of briefing the soldiers.
“You got it, Colonel,” General Gray deferred in a gruff voice before returning his attention to whatever he was reading.
Lincoln gave the detachment commanders a few minutes to prep the soldiers before entering the area of operation.
“Attention!” Major York shouted upon his entry.
The small group of soldiers jumped to their feet and stood at attention.
“At ease,” he urged as he made his way to the front of the room.
The soldiers returned to their seats, giving Lincoln their full attention.
“At 0430 hours, the incursion team, led by Major York, is gonna take the lead. His platoon will rope in and get the perimeter on lock, nobody in or out. They’ll also provide additional security for the Extraction Team, led by Major Keystone, as they breach the plane.”
He scanned the room for his team. His eyes landed on Lieutenant Colonel, LTC Al Wright.
“Relax, Ranger,” he told him. “Your team will stay behind and secure the command post.”
Lincoln looked out at the men and women chosen for the mission. They seemed laser-focused on the task at hand.
He turned to his commanders and nodded toward the map on the wall. “Take it from here, Major York.”
He stood back and listened as Major York went over the mission template. When he was done, the Major turned to Lincoln to see if he had anything to add. He stepped forward, satisfied that the Major had covered the plan thoroughly.
“Swift and stealth, Rangers. We gotta get in, and get out,” Lincoln reminded before shouting, “Rangers lead the way!”
“All the way!” the Rangers shouted in unison.
“Good luck, Rangers!”
Lincoln nodded at his soldiers and left the Area of Operation or AO. He returned to the Command Center, grabbed his phone from a table, and did what he always did before any mission. Whether he was coordinating from the TOC or fighting with his belly on the ground, before his boots hit dirt or sand, he always called his mom.
At 0410 hours, the soldiers were already loaded into two PR52 stealth helicopters. Since they were technologically designed to avoid detection, they were chosen for the mission. Lincoln left them to it and returned to the TOC. LTC Wright was standing behind a soldier sitting in front of several computers. Lincoln walked over and stood next to him.
The LTC looked over at him and grinned. “What’s good, Colonel? How was your leave?”
“Leave?” Lincoln snorted. “Brother, I’ll tell you…when I go home to my family, it’s never a vacation. Between my brothers and their danger magnet women, there is always some kind of crisis.”
Al laughed.
“What’s up with you? How are Emma and the girls?”
“Gettin’ on my damn nerves,” Al jeered playfully. “Man, I tell ya…I am extremely outnumbered.”
“A wife and four daughters? I would say you are.” Lincoln chuckled.
He looked at his watch. It was 0415. He slapped Al on the shoulder and said, “Perform a coms check and get ‘em in the air.”
“Yes, sir,” Al responded, turning back to the computer screens. They would be observing via satellite. Al made some adjustments to the satellite feed and flipped a switch that would ensure all communications were recorded. He raised the volume and spoke into his headset.
