by Cara Carnes
“I dunno. Some weird thing the new chick puts in all her shit. She loves signing her stuff like she’s a famous painter or some shit,” Spade said. “Okay, I’ll type in video on for face scan and hit enter.”
Zoey wondered how nervous the operative was. She didn’t know Spade, but when this was all over, she was giving him a big hug and having Ellie bake him ten dozen cookies. Maybe twelve. He’d trusted them to figure out he was using the system and cover his ass.
Pride filled her. The Arsenal was the best.
The video clicked on, but the image offered nothing in useable intel. Spade’s face appeared, but he knocked the laptop or whatever he was using enough to jiggle the screen in a rocking motion for a few seconds. It’d be enough.
Hot. Damn.
“Tell me you got more than Spade,” Jesse said.
“We got more than Spade,” Cord said. “HERA’s running it now.”
Zoey had already processed Spade’s file and provided all known intel on him. She fluffed his recent Arsenal file to include multiple disciplinary actions. Clearly, he was coming across as turning on them, which meant he’d need a believable history. It took a couple minutes for the extras to run through, but there’d been enough data to mask the secondary set of files added in.
She hoped.
Truth told, anyone would be overwhelmed by what HERA could do the first time they saw her in action. Not that this was the real deal. No. It was a desperate Hail Mary by an operative who’d put his ass on the line to give them a lead.
“What now?” Spade asked. “I gave you proof. You gonna do me a solid, or are you gonna make me eat a bullet?”
“You’re proving useful.”
“Great. I think backdoor access to HERA deserves a signing bonus. What do you say? A million? I’m not a greedy man.”
“That seems fair, assuming we get in,” the man replied.
“All right. We’ve got a deal,” Spade said. “For the record, I’ll work with you, but I don’t want anything to do with your man in there. Carlisle. He’s nuts, never should’ve gotten on The Arsenal’s radar the way he did.”
“How did that happen?” the man asked.
Spade chuckled. “Cuba. How the fuck do you think it happened?”
“I know that, idiot. That’s where we got you.”
“Jesus. He didn’t tell you, did he?” Spade laughed. “That’s not the first time we were in Cuba, man. We were there weeks ago.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Yeah, we were. The facility leader? Carlito? Yeah, that was his name. He was into little girls, got tied up in an underground sex trafficking sting The Arsenal was doing. They stumbled across the Cuba operation and decided to investigate when their drones and coms went dead near the facility.” Spade chuckled again. “Man, that’s the only reason they’re up in your shit. They aren’t up in your shit at all. They’re nailing Carlisle for stealing their girls’ designs.”
“What girl? The brunette?”
“Yeah. She and her friend. They’re the brainiacs behind the drugs and the weapons, but you all know that, right? Apparently, they both did work for Mandrake at one point,” Spade said. “You okay, man? You’re pretty red in the face. Wait. You didn’t know this?”
“Know what?” The man clipped the words.
“Carlisle stole the designs for everything from them. The drugs and weaponry. The drones. It’s all based off their designs from when they were at MIT together. They’re slightly different, but not by much. HERA is way different of course ’cause those two kept improving. But your man Carlisle? There ain’t nothing of his in any of this.”
“Holy shit,” Cord said.
“You’re lying,” the man said.
“Man, why the fuck would I bother lying about that asswipe? Seriously.” Spade laughed again. “Ask her or those assholes in the other room. I need painkillers. Those chains on my wrists and ankles while stretched so tight hurt like hell. I think y’all cracked a few ribs too. Those beatings are brutal, man. And what’s up with those metal walls?”
“They’re faraday cages. A contractor Carlisle hired through our organization created them. They block all transmissions. We assumed you all were pinged with tracking chips.”
“A couple of them in there are. They didn’t waste the tech on new contractors like me. I’m still on probation,” Spade answered. “You’re smarter than they gave you credit for.”
“Well, clearly I’ve missed a few critical factors to this situation. Come with me.”
“We’ve got a name. Tyrell Markson,” Cord said. “That’s the main player with Spade. HERA’s pulling everything we’ve got on him, but he’s Mandrake, via one of their many shell corporations we pulled earlier.”
“The location?” Jesse asked.
“HERA’s running it,” Jacob said. “I’ll segregate the sounds from the audio, see what’s in the background we might be able to use.”
“Peten,” Mary said. “Guatemala. The trail ends at a tower in the middle of nowhere in the Peten area of Guatemala. Get the teams wheels up.”
“If Mandrake is as connected as we suspect, they’ll know if we move in,” Zoey said.
“Then we make damn sure it’s off radar. Vi and I have a couple resources we can use in Cuba, and Nolan’s team can make their way easily enough from Belize. That leaves Levi’s team in Honduras,” Mary said.
“Levi’s sister is at a base in the Southern Yucatan right now. Marshall’s been tracking her, trying to get her released so she can work for us,” Jesse said. “She’d help.”
“Yeah, but she’s as on radar as you can get since she’s former Army,” Zoey said. “The asshats may have tossed her out, but they still have her contracted.”
“She can take personal leave. Better yet, fuck their contract altogether,” Cord said. “I’ll call Marshall. He’ll make the call.”
The Operations entry opened. Bree rushed in, laptop open. Eyes wide, tears trekked down her face. “It’s pinging.”
“What is?” Jesse asked.
“Rhea’s tracker, the extra one.” Bree motioned toward the laptop.
“Honey, we have them hooked to HERA. They’re not active,” Zoey said gently.
“No. No.” Bree shook her head. “This one wasn’t on HERA. It’s a different one I made her wear in her bra, just in case. It’s pinging. Look.”
Shock stilled Zoey when she noted the coordinates. “Peten, Guatemala.”
“We’ve got our target zone,” Mary said. “Good work, Bree.”
Zoey hugged her friend tight. The woman trembled, sniffling.
“I don’t understand why none of the trackers are working. I swear I don’t, but this one is. It is.”
Yeah, but why? Why that one and not the others? The endless questions plagued Zoey.
Hang on, Rhea. Hang on, Fallon and Dallas. We’re coming.
19
“Tell me how to make the toxin in The Arsenal’s drones, the ones used in Cuba.” Stan shook Rhea.
“Go to hell, Stan!”
Rhea startled when the door opened behind Stan. A tall, muscular man entered. His graying hair accentuated his dark gaze. Scars ran along his arms. Two more men entered behind him.
And Spade.
What the hell?
“We’re busy,” Stan said. “You can speak with her when I’m done, assuming she’s still alive.”
“Did he steal from you?” the man asked. He drew a weapon and pointed it at Stan. “Did you steal from her and her friend? Is that why The Arsenal is after us?”
“Tyrell, no. That’s crazy.” Stan’s eyes widened when he saw Spade. “You let him out? You can’t believe him! He’s one of them.”
“I’m no one’s,” Spade said. “Mandrake’s money is better.”
“You son of a bitch,” Rhea spat.
“Sorry, Doc. It’s nothing personal.” Spade crossed his arms. “Tell him what he wants to know. Stan here has been a naughty boy. Didn’t tell daddy dearest Mandrake what all happened
. They didn’t even know the Cuba facility got hit a few weeks ago.”
“How could they not know?” Rhea asked. She regarded the man holding a weapon on Stan. “We don’t even know who you are. We’re after him, what he stole from Bree and me. I didn’t know Mandrake was involved until we hit Cuba this second time.”
“And how the fuck did you find out by hitting Cuba?”
“The schematics for the RPGs. I saw the Mandrake emblem on the schematics on the factory floor. I recognized it since I contracted for you for a little while,” Rhea said. Fear crawled up her body when the man’s brows furrowed.
“You left schematics out for anyone to find?”
“She’s lying!” Stan said.
“Everyone’s a liar except you,” the man said. “Idiot.”
Rhea screamed when the man fired twice. Stan crumbled to the ground, two holes in the center of his forehead. Blood oozed from the back of his head.
“Congratulations, you’re hired.” The man grabbed Rhea by the arm. “Let’s go. Hugo, set the self-destruction sequence. Ten minutes.”
“Yes, boss.”
No. No. Rhea’s gaze swept back to Fallon and the others, who were still chained up in the other faraday cage. “No! Let me go!”
Spade slapped her. “Shut the fuck up.”
Pain shot along her face. She glared up at the bastard. “I’ll put a bullet in your brain for this.”
“Stand in line, Doc.”
“Don’t you ever call me that,” she growled. “How can you do this?”
“Very easily. I warned you a long time ago. I’m only in it for the money.”
“I’ll triple whatever he’s paying,” she said.
“No thanks. You’re nothing but a problem I’m scraping off,” Spade said. “I’m making a long-term investment on the winning horse, and that’s not you.”
“Let’s go,” Tyrell ordered.
Spade halted. “Are you blowing this place?”
“Yeah. It’s burned.”
“It is. Only one problem,” Spade commented. He motioned to the other faraday cage. “The Arsenal will find this place. They see their remains chained up like that, they’ll never stop looking for you.”
“What the hell would you suggest?”
“Cut them loose. Remove the chains but leave them locked in the faraday. By the time this place blows, all that’ll be left are their burned corpses. Who’s to say precious Fallon’s ordnance didn’t go off too soon and kill everyone?” Spade shrugged. “That’s what I’d do, but you’re the boss.”
“Hugo, help Spade here get our guests handled. Make sure the faraday cage is locked tight.”
“And the others?” Hugo asked.
“Leave them working. I’ll meet you at the car.” Tyrell grabbed Rhea’s arm and pulled.
What the hell was going on? Rhea punched and kicked, but Tyrell slammed the gun hilt across her face. Pain shot along her temple as she fell.
“I’m not Carlisle. You piss me off, you die.”
Rhea hoped Fallon, Dallas, and the others escaped. They’d been so badly beaten she imagined their injuries would be a problem. But they were the best operatives around. Spade knew that. Why would he risk…
He’s working his own plan.
Rhea hoped the man wasn’t betraying Fallon and The Arsenal. She looked around at the large building, startled by how many people were milling about. “You’re going to kill them all?”
“Everyone is expendable in war,” Tyrell said as he dragged them out of the large building.
“We aren’t at war.”
“Yes, we are. I didn’t start it, but I’ll damn sure finish it.”
Loud shouts and gunfire erupted around them. Men shot at one another. At Rhea and Tyrell.
“Fuck. Those idiots working for Carlisle must’ve found him dead.” Tyrell snagged her arm and motioned toward the nearest vehicle. “Move!”
Something whizzed by Rhea’s head. Tyrell shoved her to the ground only a few feet from the building. Vehicles sat a distance away. Gunfire continued as Mandrake uniformed men battled who Rhea assumed were the locals Carlisle hired.
An explosion rocked the area, followed by another much larger one behind her. Fire and smoke filled her vision wherever she looked. The vehicle… gone.
“Get up!” Tyrell screamed. He tugged on her arm, dragging her toward the forested area nearest them.
Moments later, another explosion rocked the area, a much larger one that tossed her forward and to her hands and knees. Shrapnel and debris landed around them, burning.
Fear clawed up her throat as she looked back.
The factory… No!
Rhea ran toward the fiery inferno, but Tyrell grabbed her arm.
“Something must’ve gone wrong. They’re gone. They’re all gone.”
He made the statement as though he’d just lost something insignificant. The crazy bastard. Rhea struck. To hell with him. Everyone. She punched, kicked, and bit wherever she could.
He lost control of the gun. Rhea lunged toward where it’d fallen near the edge of the thick forest. Pain shot along her back when the bastard landed on her, but she snagged the weapon, mashed her elbow into his face, shoved upward as hard as she could, then turned.
Fire.
Her ears rang. Blood spurted on her. She rolled Tyrell off her, then stood. Barefooted, she ran toward the fiery inferno. Chaos ensued around her as a few survivors ran around, disappeared into the dense forest.
Fallon.
Tears trekked down her face as she approached the smoldering rubble nearest her. Fire engulfed the other side of the building. Maybe if she found some shoes, she could make entry.
Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.
Whomp. Whomp. Whomp.
A helicopter?
The Arsenal!
She ran backward until she was in a semi-clear area and frantically waved at the chopper. The black, menacing beast prowled toward her. Fear clawed up her throat when her gaze landed on the Mandrake symbol along the belly of the chopper.
Hide.
Wait them out.
Rhea sprinted toward where she’d left Tyrell. If she needed to run, she’d get nowhere fast without shoes. She was no Tarzan. She undid his boots, wishing to hell the bastard had smaller feet. No matter. She’d make do, just like Kamren would if she were here.
She snagged his socks and laughed when she noticed the bastard wore two pair. Typical commando. She stuffed one sock in the toe of each boot, then put the other pair on. Blood covered the man’s shirt, but she ripped it off, grabbing the undershirt underneath.
Her pulse pounded wildly as fear clawed her insides. The helo was landing on the other side of the building. She was out of time. Run. Hide. Wait for a rescue.
But Fallon.
Tears burned her gaze.
She locked down the part of her brain focused on him. Anguish consumed her heart. Fallon. Dallas. Donovan. Walker. Sanchez.
She even mourned Spade, may he rot in hell.
It took a minute to switch out the damned lead-lined suit for the undershirt and cargo pants. The latter were too large in the waist, but the belt kept them up. She rifled through the pants and hoped there weren’t any Mandrake trackers on any of it. She looked for a cell phone, but found none.
Shit.
Gun in hand, she ran into the dense forest. Then froze.
Think like Kamren.
Think like Addy.
Think like…
No. Don’t think about him. She couldn’t grieve and survive. Losing Fallon was too big a strike to process right now. Tears trekked down her face unchecked as she ran past Tyrell to the nearest prone body, where she’d noted a large metal object of some sort.
A machete.
Perfect!
She grabbed it and whatever else she saw that might prove useful. No phone.
Damn it!
Raised shouts and gunfire erupted around her. She charged into the forest.
Smoke filled Fallon’s lungs when he
woke. Coughing, he sat up. Pain shot along his left side. His ears burned. Vision blurry, he looked around.
Dallas pulled to a sitting position. Sanchez and Walker crawled toward what’d once been the cage’s exit. Donovan hadn’t moved. The three operatives from the boat were trapped beneath a thick sheet of metal that’d detached from the ceiling when the building exploded.
Spade stood, weapon drawn, over one of the brutes who’d beaten them before. The man breathed hard and clutched his side. Fallon caught his gaze.
“Shit went sideways,” Spade said. “Locals figured out the bastard was blowing the compound. I couldn’t get you out in time.”
He’d gotten inside and had them unchained before the building blew. Whatever they’d made the faraday cage from had withstood the explosion. Other than a small exposed section of the ceiling above, they were still locked in their cage inside a smoke-filled, exploded building.
Debris likely covered all the walls of the cages.
Fuck.
“Rhea?” Fallon asked.
“That bastard Tyrell has her,” Spade said. He shoved the weapon in his cargo pants. Where the hell had the bastard gotten his clothes from?
Fallon rose and cursed the burns along his exposed arms and legs. The interior of the metal cage was heating like the inside of an oven. They had to get the fuck out.
“You okay, man?” Fallon asked Dallas. “Sanchez? Walker? Donovan?”
Sanchez looked down at Donovan. “He’s not good, boss.”
“Neither are these three,” Dallas commented. “We’ve got to get out of here. Spade, you have a way out?”
“Entry and exit were remote controlled. I have the access card, but I’m guessing the electronics are fried.” Spade looked up at the ceiling. “One of us could try and monkey our way up there.”
Fallon had managed worse, but the heated metal would be a bitch to contend with. “I’ll do it.”
“No. I will,” Walker said. “Give me a minute to work it out.”
Walker was one of the best entry specialists around.
“Any luck out there before this shit went down?” Dallas asked.
“I’m gonna kiss every one of those geeks in Operations. Gotta admit, I was expecting to eat a bullet when I entered that code and got dick back.” Spade shook his head. “They had my back. Not sure I gave them enough to get a bead on us, though. Entire facility was metal. Thinking my tracker didn’t work for shit out of this cage.”
