Extracting Mateo

by Tl Reeve

  “Roger,” Schoell said. “Looks like we’re getting into the rain now.”

  The rest of the drive they went over the extraction several times, reiterating their places and their jobs. The repetitiveness of the conversation calmed Noah. He could see his position and his targets. He visualized how long it would take for him to climb the closest tree and be setup once he got the go ahead. He played out the four shots he'd need to allow his team access.

  The first clap of thunder jolted him out of his thoughts. The rain fell in sheets, and the wind whipped through the area. Noah tapped the comm at his ear. “Hey, AJ, you sure this is just a storm?”

  “Radar says it’s below severe standards,” she answered. “Is it bad?”

  “I can’t see shit,” Schoell snapped. “It’s coming down in buckets.”

  “Cell got bigger,” Asher stated. “Looks like you’ll be in the thick of it for a while.”

  “Fuck me sideways,” Schoell muttered. “We’re almost to target. Going dark.”

  “Roger,” Asher stated. “Comms on at all times.”

  Schoell pulled into a small turn-off area, two miles south of their destination. The rain would make it miserable to hoof it in, but they had a job to do, and like the postal service—neither rain, nor sleet, nor snow would keep Noah from doing his job. They retrieved their gear from the back of the vehicle then made the trek up the mountain road to the compound.

  He placed his night-vision contacts in and followed the road. When a dirt path to the east appeared, he broke off from the others and continued the climb. In the forest, he could stay hidden the best and find a secure spot to set up. Lightning flashed, momentarily blinding him. He closed his eyes ‘til the count of ten before he continued the climb. To the east, he found a pine, over thirty feet tall. He figured, at least halfway up would give him the advantage over everyone.

  Noah retrieved his tree-climbing spikes and rope from his pack then got to work. In less than five minutes, he was up the tree where he needed to be. Guess if I’m meant to be a fucking lightning rod, tonight’s the night. He used the climbing rope to secure himself to the trunk while also using the spikes on his shoes to hold himself steady. Noah took his time sighting in his shot. He calculated for the rain, wind, and air temp then waited.

  “In position,” he whispered.

  “Roger. Franks, Kaine, and Calvin are moving in now. Standby,” Asher replied.

  Noah evened out his breath. Every few seconds, he adjusted his sights. The men standing outside the compound carried on a conversation as though nothing was amiss. If he read their lips right, neither one of them liked being stuck outside in a downpour. Reminded him of Schoell.

  “All clear,” Calvin muttered.

  “Mission is a go,” Asher stated.

  Noah waited for the crack of thunder to roll across the night sky before he pulled the trigger. By the time the first guy went down, he shot again taking out the second guy. He lined up the third near the door and pulled the trigger once more. His movements were efficient and precise. As the fourth guard fell, he spotted Paul at the gate. He stuck a small pack to the locking mechanism then stepped to the side.

  “Fire in the hole,” Paul cautioned, then pressed the trigger.

  The burst was silent as the gate swung open, and those on the ground headed in. The urge to go with them made it hard for Noah to keep his position. He wanted to see the bastard’s face when they captured Dario and hauled his ass away. However, he also had his team's back. He wouldn't allow anyone to get the drop on them.

  Communication went silent as they made entry. Noah watched them through the scope of his rifle. A small scuffle ensued when they surprised Dario and those on the inside, but was quickly put to rest. The breath, Noah didn’t realize he’d been holding, left him on a rush as Schoell emerged from the house, holding a squirming Dario Breslow.

  “Scene secure. Suspect contained. Mission complete,” Schoell said, frog-walking the guy off of the property.

  “Roger. Cleaning crew incoming. Grab everything that appears to be important. Files, computers, ledgers. I want it all,” Asher said. “Leave nothing unturned.”

  “Roger,” Noah answered. “On it.”

  He slung his rifle over his shoulder then began the descent out of the tree. Once he put away his climbing gear, he double-timed it to the house to go through everything. The compound had been in pristine condition. Of all the property they knew Edwin owned, this had to be their primary living space. Too bad the family hadn't been there instead of the small house when they'd been captured by the Aquila Cartel.

  Noah worked shoulder to shoulder with Calvin, Kaine, and Frazier, collecting whatever data had been stored at the location. They boxed up several computers, thumb drives, and files along with drawers of maps and other bits of information Asher might need. By the time they were done, the cleaning crew had removed the bodies. Since no one would ever return there, the property, unless the government claimed it, would go to waste. Shame. It was a nice house.

  Noah trudged down the mountain, the information in tow. The rain had finally let up, and the clouds were breaking apart, allowing some of the early morning sun to shine through, tinging the sky in hues of purple and pink. They weren't far from the drop point when Noah heard Dario shouting and cursing all of them. All he wanted was five minutes alone with the asshole. Five minutes to tear him apart.

  With the mission accomplished, the rage of knowing Mateo had been kidnapped by this asshole surged forward. Noah stomped forward after dropping the evidence in the back of his SUV. Dario ran his mouth, demanding his lawyer. Demanding the police save him. The fucker didn’t, nor wouldn’t, have any of his demands answered. He was in deep, and the hole he would eventually end up in, fuck, Dario would be lucky if he ever saw the light of day.

  “You should probably shut the fuck up now,” Noah sneered. “You thought you wouldn’t get caught, didn’t you?”

  Dario faced him. A small smile pulled at his mouth, and his whole demeanor changed. He went from sniveling, whiny asshole, to full-on predator. “Noah Hanover. What a pleasure it is to see you again. How's your butt-bitch?”

  Noah lunged for him, only to have Calvin stop him. “Not worth it, man. He’s not worth it.”

  “Listen to them,” Dario laughed. “It’s not worth it.”

  “It's always worth it.” Noah cold cocked Dario. The man's head snapped backward as blood poured from his nose. “That's for taking what belongs to me.” He reared back to hit Dario again.

  “Don’t.” Schoell grabbed him. “Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you.”

  “Feels good, though,” Noah grumbled.

  “Bet it does.” Schoell leaned in close. “Remember where he’s going when this is all said and done.”

  Noah smirked. “Hell. But, while he’s in the hole, doesn’t mean we all can’t pay him a visit.”

  Schoell chuckled while some of the false bravadoes leached out of Dario's face. “Exactly. Let's load up and go home. Asher's going to want a debrief.”

  Noah climbed into the backseat, while Paul rode shotgun. The trip back to the base was silent. Though they’d retrieved Dario, the mission wasn’t fully over like Schoell assumed. They had to analyze all of the data they’d collected and also question the suspect. Noah wanted to be there when it went down. He hadn’t told Asher yet. He knew the minute he did, it would start another argument. Noah didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, he had a right to be in there. Coming after Mateo had been the wrong fucking thing to do, and now that they had Dario, he’d make sure it never fucking happened again.

  Chapter 8

  Nicotine withdrawal sucked balls.

  Noah’s leg didn’t stop shaking the entire drive back to base. He hated not having an outlet for the adrenaline coursing through his blood. It made him on edge. Normally after a mission, he’d smoke to take the edge off. Then if he wasn’t going home, he’d wait until he could find some privacy before rubbing one or more
out. An orgasm calmed him faster than anything else.

  At least with Mateo at the base... Yeah, no. He pushed the thought aside. He wouldn’t use his husband after everything they’d been through. Besides, before, when he came home to Mateo, his lover had no idea why he’d been so amorous. Now, Mateo did. How he’d react, Noah didn’t have a clue, but he’d rather not take his chances.

  However, having neither, made him edgy as fuck.

  “You’re awful quiet back there, Hanover. You okay?” Schoell turned to face him as they waited for the ramp to lower, so they could enter the base’s parking area.

  “Could use a smoke,” Noah admitted.

  Paul chuckled from the front seat. “You know we all have a bet going as to how long you can hold out.”

  “Fuck you,” he snarled at the other man. “Hope you all lose.”

  Schoell eased on the gas, and they began rolling once more. “I’ve got twenty on you.” He chuckled, maneuvering the vehicle down into their headquarters.

  Paul glanced back at him. “No offense, bro, I prefer females.”

  Noah flashed the other man a grin, knowing full well all the brothers were straight. Noah also knew they shared women as well. Whoever gave them the tour of the base, forgot one of the most important rules—well, technically two. Never fuck where they lived, and the bunk level wasn't soundproof. It hadn't been long after they arrived, Noah heard all three of them with a woman. None of them, including their partner, had any shame. “None taken.”

  It wasn’t always easy being the ‘new guys’ on an existing team. Especially when they were meshing in with guys who’d known and worked with each other over ten years. Noah noticed sometimes, the siblings walked on eggshells around the team. Noah wanted to tell them it’d go much easier for them if they just went balls the wall instead of pussy footing around, worrying about offending someone.

  After all, they were all grown adults and, most times, were able to handle shit like adults. Unless they were O’Malley. That fucker just couldn’t let it go or pull his head out of his ass. And even though Noah had been pissed as hell at O’Malley, he worried the other man’s actions would cause a shift in how the team worked. Noah knew Asher would need to replace Jake’s position, even if it was temporary. He hoped Asher didn’t bring in some pimple-faced kid, fresh out of boot camp to handle this rowdy bunch. If he did, the guy never stood a chance.

  “Jesus, Schoell, could you drive any fucking slower?” Noah teased.

  “I’m not having Asher all over my ass again!” Schoell yelled, his southern drawl thicker than normal. “Besides, we both know you only want me to hurry so you can get in on the interrogation of Dario. Sorry to say, son, Asher isn’t going to allow that shit to happen. You’re too close to the investigation. You’ll most likely be seated in the bleachers.”

  Bleachers meaning the interrogation viewing room behind mirrored glass. The only way someone could hear what was being said is if whoever ran the interrogation turned on the mic. It sucked ass being in there. Noah hated it, especially now. He had to try, though, and it wasn’t because Breslow took Mateo. Nope, Noah wanted in because it was another rush, watching a person. Figure out their tells. Calling them liars. The process of working to get the truth out of people who’d been trained to not crack under pressure had been another form of an adrenaline rush for Noah.

  It was almost as good as an orgasm. Almost.

  “You never know, Asher might take pity on his ass and allow him in,” Paul said as Schoell pulled up next to the other vehicle they’d taken on the mission.

  Schoell snorted, and if he replied, Noah didn’t hear it. He didn’t remain in the SUV long enough to find out. He’d opened the door and hopped out before Schoell had even put the big truck in park.

  Shit. He glanced at the elevator bank and watched the floors tick off as both descended deep into the base. It would take a while before he’d catch up with Asher. Instead of waiting, Noah jogged over to the stairs. He booked it down ten flights of stairs. His plan had been two-fold. Burn off some of the excess energy coursing through his veins, while also getting himself to Asher's side, so he could be part of the interrogation team.

  He arrived at the door, barely out of breath, but more in control of his body and mind. With a quick swipe of his key card, the light on the door turned green, and he pushed through into the hallway. He strode down the corridor with purposeful strides toward the large section of rooms at the end of the hallway.

  The interrogation room was bare bones. A couple of metal chairs, a table with hooks to attach the cuffs to along with a cement floor and a single metal drain dead center. It made clean up a snap. They simply hosed down the blood, piss, and shit when they were done.

  “Where exactly do you think you’re going, Noah?” Asher said after he stepped from the elevator car.

  Noah was caught, like a fucking rat in a trap. He could play it off. He gave a shrug of his shoulder and stated. “Interrogation.”

  Asher just shook his head. “Did you honestly think I’d allow you in the room?”

  “Considering I’m one of your best interrogators... Yeah, I sure as hell did.”

  The Navy hadn’t been the one to train him for this, R.O.O.T had. Noah had tested high for his ability to detect deception and to read verbal and non-verbal cues. He suspected a lot of it came from looking through a scope and picking out the bad guys in a crowd then anticipating the enemy’s actions. He’d also excelled at administrating torture. R.O.O.T had cultivated it, sending him to both to the FBI and CIA to take their courses, to enhance his natural abilities. It was why Noah did ninety-nine percent of all interrogations.

  “You’re too involved in this case. You won’t be objective. I can’t risk it. We can’t risk it.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Noah snapped.

  “Be that as it may, we’re under scrutiny because of what we were accused of by Lincoln.”

  “And we were cleared of it!” Noah said, aware he was close to pushing a line he might not be able to cross back with his Commander. Asher would only give him so much rope before he hung himself.

  “Don’t be fucking naïve, Noah. We got put on everyone’s radar. Including the President of the United States. Who, need I remind you, is the one who gives final approval on our budgeting, and ultimately, your pay. All Lincoln did was paint a bigger target on R.O.O.T’s back when it comes to the DoD, HHS, government officials, and the Military. They’re all waiting for us to fuck up, so they can swoop in and be the heroes. All while we’re left holding our dicks looking for new jobs. Is that what you want?”

  It wasn’t, but Noah didn’t willingly give in just yet. He switched tactics, reminding Asher about the not too distant past. “You were involved in everything to do with Lincoln. You sat right along with me while I questioned Franks and the other assholes. And, don’t use the excuse you hadn’t fucked Rae yet. You forget where our rooms were located. You were... Excuse me, still are deep in the shit.”

  “Noah, I swear to fuck...” Asher spat out between clenched teeth while balling his fists up at his side. Noah walked a thin line with his boss. “If you recall, we weren’t even romantically involved yet.”

  Noah gave Asher a sheepish grin. “I had to at least try.”

  “I’m aware. Hence, why you’re still standing here and not locked up in your room like O’Malley.” Asher gestured to the door where observation resided. “Feel free to watch it from the bleachers. I’ll make sure you can hear everything. But you and I both know; you’re not going in there. If you even try it, I’ll have you hauled off to GTMO and make sure you get lost in such a deep, dark hole, you’ll never get out. Am I clear?”

  “Got it.”

  Asher turned, giving Noah a clear view of Dario. While he’d fucked around with his commander, one of the others, most likely Callahan, brought Dario into the room and handcuffed him to the table. Noah smirked at the other man when he saw the beginning of raccoon eyes from where one of the guys had punched Dario in the face. Noa
h’s gaze then fell to Dario’s hand. The bandage wrapped around the wound didn’t look good. In fact, sitting in the stark light of the room, Noah noticed something he hadn’t while they wrangled the fucker out of the compound. His skin was pasty and clammy. As he sat there staring at the two-way mirror, he appeared to get worse as sweat dripped from his temple.

  Noah saluted Asher. “Aye, Aye, Commander.” As he started for the viewing room, he glanced over his shoulder. “Might want to get Rae to look at his hand. I think it might be infected.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Asher snarled. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me, Callahan shot him.” He closed the door behind him and took a seat.

  He didn’t know how long he sat there before Rae rushed into the room to evaluate Dario. She cut her gaze back to Asher and said something, Noah couldn’t hear. But, if he had to guess, the infection was worse than they could imagine. Good, the fucker should suffer.

  A minute later, Asher popped open the door on Noah’s side. “Beginning stages of gangrene, good call.”

  He shrugged. “Bastard wouldn’t be sick if he hadn’t taken Mateo.”

  “True,” Asher replied. “Rae says we need to nip this shit, so she can get him to the surgery suite. Franks will be assisting her.”

  Noah grunted. “Take a pound of flesh out of that hand for me while you’re in there.”

  Asher chuckled. “Sick fuck. Does Mateo know you’re a fucking sadist?”

  He shrugged it off. “Shouldn’t have come after what’s mine.”

  “I hear ya,” Asher said. “Just don’t say that shit in public. We don’t need the extra fucking scrutiny right now, remember?”

  “Whatever makes you sleep better.”

  Asher flipped him off then held the door wide, allowing Rae to join him. “Be good.” Asher kissed the crown of her head. “We’ll get this done.”

  Rae waited until Asher headed back to the interrogation room. “I’m not here to give you shit.”