Steel Force

by Geoffrey Saign

  It was a half hour before a blue rental car pulled up alongside their car.

  Dale and Clay appeared as solidly built as Harry. Dale was in his late twenties and shorter, Clay in his late forties with a moustache. Both had short hair and wore jeans, denim jackets, and boots. Clay wore a cowboy hat.

  Steel liked both of them. Ex-Army. Dependable. Solid. He had visited their homes in Montana and watched some of the winter Korean Olympics with them. They had been welcoming to him, but now they looked serious as they gave Christie a big hug and shook his hand firmly.

  “Let’s go, Afia.” Clay motioned to their car.

  Afia hugged Christie, whispering, “I hope you get your brother back.”

  “Thank you, Afia.” Christie held her tightly.

  Afia grabbed Steel next. “Thank you for protecting me.”

  He pulled back. “Anytime.”

  Once Afia was in the car, Clay shut the door and stepped up to them. His voice was terse, his face drawn. “Who has Harry?”

  “Yeah, what gives?” asked Dale.

  “We don’t know,” said Christie. “Harry is in the back bed of a small white pickup truck with a cargo bed cover. Most likely Latinos are driving it.”

  “Hell, who would do something like that?” Dale frowned.

  Clay was silent, staring at Steel.

  Steel looked each of them in the eye. “The man in charge is Colombian. I recognized his accent, but I don’t know who he is. We’re being watched. If we call in the police or any law enforcement they said they’ll kill Harry.”

  Clay stuck his hands in his pockets. “Do you believe them?”

  “One of their men held a bomb in our SUV and was ready to die if we didn’t do what we were told.” He waited, concerned Clay wouldn’t go along with it.

  “I disagree.” Clay grimaced. “We need to call in the FBI. They’re trained to handle this kind of stuff.”

  Steel nodded. “The Colombian has something else over me, because he said all our loved ones will die if we don’t do as he says. He’s going to call me and explain that to me so I think we have to wait to hear what it is before we call anyone in.”

  He paused. “The way they took us was very carefully planned. They knew where we would be, how to make it succeed, and pulled it off without a mistake. The Colombian is a pro and we have to take him seriously.”

  “Hell.” Clay bit off his words. “I always felt something like this would happen with your background, Jack.”

  “That doesn’t help us, Clay,” snapped Christie.

  Clay stared at them. “All right. We see what the Colombian has to say and then we revisit this decision, agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Steel nodded.

  “How can we help our brother?” Dale frowned. “We gotta do something.”

  Steel said, “After you drop off Afia, get a different color rental car and head north on highway six, past Boulder. I think that’s a decent bet for where they took Harry, but it’s still a long shot.” His voice hardened. “I won’t let anything happen to your brother.”

  “Why the different color car?” asked Dale.

  “I think they’re watching us so they’ll pass along the color of the car you have now to whoever is driving the white pickup.” Steel assumed Clay and Dale wouldn't be followed. “We have to be cautious.”

  Clay motioned to their car. “We’ll drop Afia off at the Boulder police station. Then we’ll swap cars and drive north. We’ll wait for your update.”

  Steel gestured to him. “Thanks. I’m sorry about all this.”

  “We’ll sort it out,” said Dale.

  “Can I talk to you alone for a moment, Jack?” Clay stared at him steadily.

  “Whatever you have to say, say it in front of both of us, Clay.” Christie’s voice was firm.

  Clay frowned. “All right. I might lose a brother over something I don’t understand. I don’t want to lose a sister too.” He looked at her. “I think you should come with us.”

  Christie stared at him. “If we split up, the Colombian said he’ll kill Harry and our families.”

  Clay’s forehead wrinkled. “Why is he making you stay with Jack?”

  Christie shrugged. “We don’t know.”

  Clay shook his head, looking frustrated. “Damn.”

  “Let’s see what develops,” said Dale. “If we get moving, maybe we can find Harry quick and end all this.”

  Clay regarded Christie and Steel for a few moments. “Okay. We’ll do it your way for now.”

  “Be careful.” Christie hugged her brothers once more.

  Clay returned to the passenger seat of the rental car. Dale climbed in behind the wheel.

  Steel tapped on Clay’s window. When he powered it down, Steel said, “Hang on.” He motioned to Christie. “Come on.”

  He opened the trunk of their car, unzipped the duffel bag, and looked at Christie. “I want to give two guns to your brothers. Do you want a SIG or Glock? There’s two of each.” She preferred the SIG’s steady trigger pull and ergonomics, but she practiced with both.

  She gaped at the weapons. “SIG.”

  “Alright.” He preferred the grip of a Glock anyway. He took out one SIG and one Glock, and an extra mag for both. Hesitating, he said, “Let’s check them quick.”

  He handed her the SIG, he took the Glock. They ejected the full magazines, checked the chambers, took off the slides, recoil springs, and barrels.

  “Clean.” Christie reassembled it.

  “Mine too.” He put the Glock back together, took the SIG from her, and said, “Walk in front of me to Clay’s window so no one can see the guns.”

  She did. Remaining close behind her, he unobtrusively handed the guns to Clay. “You might need these. We just checked them. Clean and ready.”

  Clay raised his eyebrows, but he took the guns. “I expect you to take care of my sister, Jack.”

  “Nothing will happen to her, Clay. You have my word.”

  Clay and Dale drove away.

  Steel stared after them, vowing silently to live up to his promise.

  CHAPTER 4

  Christie nudged Steel’s arm. “Ignore Clay. Big brother crap. He’s always been protective of me.”

  Steel kept silent, knowing his own concerns for her wouldn’t allow him to dismiss Clay’s comments so easily.

  She walked back to view the weapons in the trunk. “They’re arming us. For what?”

  “We’re going to find out. Let’s check the other guns quick.”

  They both examined a pistol and Rattler, field-stripping them and examining magazines again. Everything was functional. They were finished in minutes and he shut the trunk.

  Christie walked into his arms, whispering, “I’ll die if anything happens to Harry.”

  He held her close, his stomach wound tight. “We’ll make sure nothing does.”

  The phone rang and he answered, putting it on speaker.

  The Colombian’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Here it is, Steel. Op Retribution. Remember Marita? You abandoned our compatriot, refusing to give her asylum, and thus allowed her to be raped, tortured, and killed by Gustavo Alvarez’s men in the Choco jungle on your last Op.”

  He remembered. The DEA informant, Marita, had died on the Serpent Op. He had considered the possibility that the Colombian kidnapper was somehow connected to Marita but had rejected it as too unlikely. A sinking feeling hit him. He had caused all of this. The past wouldn’t let go.

  Christie’s brow furrowed and he saw worry in her eyes. He felt it too but controlled his features.

  The man kept talking. “We’re holding you responsible for what happened to Marita. You’re going to kill the men who participated in her death. We know everything about you, gringo, and if you do anything we don’t like, Harry dies. Your first target is in Vail. Garcia Rincón
. He’s vacationing with his wife and two children, using the alias of Rodrigo Garcia.”

  A photo of Garcia arrived on Steel’s phone. Moustache, dark hair, mid-forties. He showed it to Christie.

  The Colombian continued. “He’s a cousin of Gustavo Alvarez, the drug lord you killed. He’s also one of the men who ruined and killed our beloved Marita. He has four guards. Three are men living in the U.S. but connected to the cartel. The fourth is his most trusted guard, Hernando. Hernando also participated in Marita’s death.

  “Kill Garcia and Hernando tonight or Harry dies. If you let the other guards live, the cartel will have an easier time finding you. It’s up to you. Garcia has rented a house. I’ll text you the address. We’ll know if you succeed.”

  Anger and panic rose in Steel’s throat. “I won’t do anything until I talk to Harry to make sure he’s alive.”

  “Take the phone off speaker and walk away from Christie.”

  Christie’s eyebrows raised, but he did as requested, holding the phone up to his ear.

  “I’m texting you a photo of our compatriot.”

  The photo arrived. It was a shot of Marita’s face and shoulders post-mortem. The torture wounds were obvious and horrible. It made him sick to his stomach, and remorseful again that he had allowed it to happen. Hers was one of the faces that still sometimes haunted his dreams at night.

  “Now ask yourself if you want this to happen to Christie. To your daughter, Rachel. To your ex-wife, Carol. To Harry. I’ll release Christie’s photo and photos of everyone in both of your families to the cartel if you fail or if you call in the police or law enforcement.”

  He felt his world caving in, and he wanted this man dead. “I tried to save Marita.”

  “Go to hell, gringo.”

  “This is between me and you. Let’s meet.”

  “I could have put a bullet in you or Christie long ago, but then your deaths would be too easy. I want you to suffer like Marita did.”

  “Why now?” He glanced around the station, knowing the Columbian wasn’t far away.

  “Opportunity. I had to act when Marita’s killers came north.”

  “How do you know me?” Steel searched for a way out.

  “Information is always available for a price.”

  He had been sold out on the Serpent Op, his name given to the target—the drug lord Gustavo Alvarez. It wasn’t a surprise that the Colombian had traced his name. Gustavo Alvarez had also threatened revenge from the cartel. It hadn’t happened, but it had kept Steel on edge over the last year.

  He casually strolled farther away from Christie. “Christie had nothing to do with Marita’s death. Leave her out of this.”

  “I want you to worry about losing someone you love dearly, all the while knowing that it’s your fault if she dies.”

  His free hand bunched into a fist, but he kept his voice calm. “If you want revenge, I’ll be more effective if I operate alone. Christie will just get in the way.”

  “That’s part of the fun, amigo.”

  Get updates on Jack Steel and Alex Sight thrillers at www.geoffreysaign.net

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I want to thank my friend Stanley Blanchard who used his extensive military background to strengthen the military scenes and give Jack Steel the nuances he needed to play the part. Any mistakes or omissions in anything military is my fault alone. Thanks to Steve McEllistrem, cousin and fellow writer who gave the book a read for grammar. I also wish to thank my parents for their critiques—they have always had a sharp sense of what makes a great action thriller.

  Jack Steel is a character whose discipline gives him advantages over his enemies. As someone who did four-hour workouts nearly daily for five years in kung fu, I thought it would be interesting to create a character who used virtual reality to hone his skills to the nth degree, and then throw him into trouble.

  The crimes in Steel Force stem from greed and a corporation. Corporations are the new feudal lords of today’s world, often pulling the strings of politicians and world leaders to gain influence and get what they want. The ability to organize via the Internet is the single biggest weapon citizens have today to keep corporations honest. What used to take months to learn about via mainstream news, now takes minutes. Secrets are shared with the public before they can become secrets.

  The character Jack Steel follows his values above all else. Doing the right thing is something you learn from the adults around you. My parents did a great job of teaching that to me.

  Lastly, I wish to thank all the men and women who act heroically every day to ensure our safety. We owe you our thanks, gratitude, and support.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Geoffrey Saign has spent many years studying kung fu and sailed all over the South Pacific and Caribbean. He uses that experience and sense of adventure to write the Jack Steel and Alex Sight thriller action series. Geoff loves to sail big boats, hike, and cook—and he infuses all of his writing with his passion for nature. As a swimmer, he considers himself fortunate to live in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, Minnesota.

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