He’d stopped taking his meds after Kalee had first been presumed dead, going off the rails and kidnapping little Rani, thinking she was his daughter. Piper and Ace hadn’t pressed charges, understanding that because he’d stopped taking his medicine, his schizophrenia had hijacked his mind. He was doing much better, back on his meds, but he lived a solitary life, retiring from the company he owned and keeping to himself.
Phantom’s superior officers had ordered him to stand down, to not do anything rash, like jetting off to Timor-Leste by himself to try to save Kalee. He’d agreed, and had asked for a month’s leave. His leg still gave him issues every now and then from where he’d been shot in Afghanistan while rescuing Avery from insurgents.
Phantom had called a SEAL friend who was stationed in Hawaii, and he’d found a small beach shack up at North Shore that Phantom could rent for a month.
Commander North had been wary, but after he’d spoken to Mustang, the other SEAL, and he’d verified that Phantom really had contacted him and the arrangements for housing were made, the older officer had relented.
Feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t spoken with Rocco or any of the other guys on the team, Phantom had left late one night and flown to Hawaii. He knew his team was going to be furious with him for what he was about to do, but he pushed that to the back of his mind. What was done was done. He’d deal with the consequences when he arrived back in Southern California in a month.
For now, Phantom was sitting in the rundown but clean hostel near the coast in the capital of Timor-Leste. He’d already visited the American Embassy and spun a tale of his girlfriend losing her passport. He’d given them all her details, and said he’d return with Kalee in a day or two so she could pick up the replacement document.
Phantom knew Kalee was last seen in the northwestern part of Dili. The rebels had come down out of the mountains and had set up a type of camp there. The citizens had been forced out of their homes and the rebels were currently engaging in raids on the government buildings on that end of the city.
They were more a nuisance than a real threat at this point. The Timor-Leste government had mostly quashed the rebellion and were basically ignoring the final resisters, hoping they’d give up and fade away into the night.
Phantom’s plan was to wait until it was dark, then head out to where the rebels were known to be hunkered down and find Kalee.
After that, his plan was a bit vague. He had no idea what frame of mind Kalee would be in. Reports had claimed she was willingly taking part in raids, brandishing a rifle and threatening citizens. But Phantom didn’t believe it.
Kalee had come to the country to be a Peace Corps volunteer. All her spare time had been spent at the orphanage where they’d found Piper, along with the three little girls she and Ace had adopted. He didn’t think a woman like that would turn into a cold-blooded killer in the months she’d been in the company of the rebels.
But then again, people coped differently in extreme situations. Phantom didn’t like to think about what tortures she’d been through. He wasn’t optimistic enough to believe she hadn’t been hurt—physically, mentally, and sexually—by the lawless group of men she’d been seen with. But he hoped she had the inner fortitude to be able to rise above it.
Phantom sat on the floor in the middle of the small room he’d been given, trying to clear his mind to prepare for what was to come. He wasn’t used to acting alone anymore. He’d come to depend on his SEAL team to not only have his back on missions, but to talk things through with and plan.
Even though it had been his decision to go to Timor-Leste on his own, he missed them. But there was no way in hell he was going to ruin their careers the way he was ruining his own. At this point, there was no turning back. He’d gone over and over the maps and knew he could complete this mission by himself. That it was the best way. He’d be much less likely to be seen than if the other SEALs were there too.
It was pitch dark when Phantom silently slipped out of the hostel and headed for the rough part of the city where Kalee had last been seen. Tex had provided maps to the commander, giving Phantom a very precise place to start looking.
He had all the information he needed stored inside his head. While he didn’t have a gun, he’d picked up a wicked-looking sharp knife with a six-inch serrated blade when he’d arrived in the city. He didn’t need a gun; he could kill just as effectively with the knife.
But his plan was to use extreme stealth. He wanted to slip into the lion’s den and steal Kalee away without anyone being the wiser. Phantom knew the chances of that happening were slim, but that was definitely plan A.
Dili was a bustling city during the day with people everywhere, but at oh-three hundred in the morning, it was eerily quiet. Phantom didn’t run, simply walked with purpose. He didn’t want to bring any unwanted attention to himself. While there weren’t many people up and about to see him, the last thing he wanted was for someone to call the local cops and alert them to his presence.
It took around thirty minutes for Phantom to get to the part of town where Kalee and the rebels were holing up. It only took another fifteen to find the building he suspected she was in.
His heart was beating fast and hard in his chest. Phantom silently thanked Tex for his thorough report. Without it, there was no way he’d have been able to pinpoint the exact building he was currently surveilling. It was a dilapidated concrete structure that had certainly seen better days. Phantom wasn’t sure there was even an intact roof over the two-story building.
Moving with the stealth his nickname suggested, Phantom kept to the shadows and made his way to the west side of the building. He cautiously peered inside and saw at least ten men sprawled all over the floor. They were snoring—or passed out drunk, if the beer cans he saw strewn around the place were any indication.
But more worrying was the number of rifles scattered throughout the room. All it would take was one wrong move and he had no doubt they’d be up and ready to kill in seconds.
Looking around, Phantom realized he’d seen the vines that snaked up the side of the concrete building before. When they’d been in the country escaping through the jungle with Piper and the children, the vines had been everywhere. They were thick and almost impossible to cut through. Phantom should know; he’d tried.
Without making a sound, Phantom reached for one and tugged. Hard. The leaves on the vine rustled, but didn’t budge.
Smiling, Phantom slowly began to climb upward, using the vine as if it were a rope. Within seconds, he was hovering outside an open window on the second floor.
Peering in, he saw there were significantly fewer occupants up here. In the dim light, he thought there were only three.
The odds of him being able to fight three men and come out on top were much greater than the dozen or so on the floor below. Of course, if any of the men up here made any kind of sound, it would bring the others running, and he’d be fucked.
Using his upper-body strength, Phantom easily swung himself up and over the windowsill and silently stepped onto the wood floor. He stayed crouched down for a long moment. Waiting. Watching.
When no one moved, he slowly eased his way across the floor.
Everyone he’d seen in the house, and in Tex’s grainy photos, had been wearing black pants and a black shirt, the unofficial “uniform” of the rebels. Two rebels had their backs to him, facing a wall, and a third was on his back, one arm flung over his head, and slight snores coming from his mouth.