Operation Dark Angel

by Margaret Kay

  “What are you laughing at?” Garcia asked him as he sat his plate at the empty place between Sienna and the Undertaker.

  “Nothing, I was just messing with you.” He leaned in close to Garcia. “We all know she’s your woman. You don’t need to piss on her to mark your territory.”

  “Fuck you,” Garcia said quietly with a laugh. His eyes glanced around the table at his brothers, his teammates. He was home and it felt good. Then his eyes landed on Sienna, with her light brown hair styled softly. He smiled with appreciation. He leaned in close, his lips to her ear. “Damn do you look good, sweetheart. I liked the Elvira thing, but I love the real you look better.”

  Sienna blushed. “Thanks, Meredith did a great job. I didn’t think she could get my normal look back, with the hack job I did to it with the scissors, but she did.”

  “You look beautiful,” he said softly.

  She blushed a deeper shade of red.

  Shepherd rolled in and up to the spot at the head of the table with no chair. Someone had already fixed him a plate that sat waiting for him. A bottle of water was there as well. Sienna hadn’t noticed who fixed his plate. It struck her how caring and respectful of him someone was. That small act showed affection and reverence for the man. She was beginning to get the idea of how close and how caring this team was to each other. Just listening to the joking and bantering of some of the conversations went a long way at backing this fact up. These people were a family, a family Anthony was a part of. She wondered for a second if Greg had this type of team, had been a part of something this special.

  She continued to watch and listen to the many conversations as they ate. At one point, her eyes met Shepherd’s, who was watching her. She smiled at him with warmth. “Thank you, for everything your team has done for me.”

  Garcia took hold of her hand on the table.

  Her eyes flickered to him before they went back to Shepherd. “I really don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for all of you.”

  A knowing grin curved Shepherd’s lips. Mrs. Sienna Andrews’ situation was coincidentally linked to their case and he didn’t believe in coincidence. Garcia trusted her. That counted for something. Cooper also believed her. That counted too. It was just too convenient that she ended up with Garcia and her husband had also been looking into New Mountain Enterprises, her murdered husband. Did he think she had anything to do with her husband’s murder? Not for a second. Something still just felt off. He would continue to approach her with caution. “I’m curious about one thing. The man who brought you to Garcia, McKnight, how did he know about Razor?”

  Sienna shook her head. “I don’t know. He just did. I told him I needed to disappear, and he knew a man who could secretly transport me to Colorado for the right price. He took care of all the arrangements.”

  “I knew of McKnight from my last time under, had some dealings with him. He’s a small-time drug dealer. Too low on the food chain to worry about.”

  “He’s dropped off the face of the Earth since handing her over to you. We haven’t been able to get a bead on him,” Shepherd reported.

  “I told him to disappear for a few weeks. I didn’t want anything to happen to him because of me,” Sienna said. The thought suddenly occurred to her that maybe he didn’t intentionally disappear. “You don’t think he’s in any trouble, do you?”

  She felt Garcia squeeze her hand. “We have no reason to believe that’s the case, but we still haven’t figured out who those men were at the rusted-out warehouse or how they found us. I’m assuming they were after you. They’d be with the cartel if they were after me, and I don’t think that’s who they were. It just didn’t feel like a cartel hit.”

  “We’re still looking for McKnight,” Shepherd said. “But your cousin Jimmy is visiting his sister and her family in New Orleans. He dropped out of sight as soon as you went with McKnight.”

  “Thank God,” Sienna said with relief. At least Jimmy had listened and went away.

  Angel entered, carrying the baby. She handed him to Jackson and then got a plate for herself. Sienna found it amusing, watching all these men melt over the little baby, especially Shepherd. Little Sammy got passed around to each person, who showered him with attention. Viewing each man hold the baby, it occurred to Sienna how easily Angel passed their baby around to these armed men. Seeing guns worn openly by these men as they handled the baby was unsettling. It just seemed wrong.

  As each person finished up, they dumped their plates in the trash, and then left. Soon only Shepherd and the people who were at the Silo were left in the room. Cooper and Shepherd exchanged looks she couldn’t read.

  “Sienna,” Shepherd said, “Madison has asked that you be allowed to be in Ops listening in on the Operation this evening. If I approve it, you have to promise me you will stand back and just watch. If anything goes wrong, which it won’t, you will hear it and see it. I want you to understand that this is what we do. We’ve got this. You’ll need to trust that.”

  Sienna nodded her head several times, quickly. “I promise.”

  “I’ll be with her the entire time,” Madison said. “I’ll personally be responsible for her.”

  Shepherd nodded. “I’ll listen in from my office.” His eyes went to Garcia. “Get what we need.”

  “Yes, sir,” Garcia replied.

  Indigo

  Down in subbasement two, in the Team Room, Garcia led the briefing on the plan for the evening’s Op to grab up and question Raul Saucedo. Present were the three men who would go in with him, Mother, the Birdman, and Lambchop. They were dressed in appropriate garb to look the part. Cooper, Jackson, Doc, and the Undertaker would be outside the bar, ready to go in if things went sideways. From their lockers, all the men armed themselves appropriately. Yvette in the Ops Center would be dialed in providing the support she did during operations. She would also coordinate the handoff of Saucedo to the DEA after they were done with him.

  They would go in at twenty-two hundred hours, ten p.m. Saucedo had set up shop in one of the dive bars that had been the DEA’s and their focus the previous fall when two other gang members had been surveilled. Pedro Diaz, a Juarez Cartel member and Ernesto Mendoza, a Colombian Cartel member had been identified by Juan Carlos as two major players in moving large quantities of drugs into the US. This unlikely partnership between the two cartels was what had led to this six-month undercover assignment for Garcia.

  Madison had been forced to kill Diaz when he came after her, and Mendoza had slipped from DEA surveillance and dropped off the face of the Earth. After Razor made a reappearance and proved his loyalty in the cartel, his assignments to set up shipments and delivery schedules began. But the man in charge, Jorge Gomez was very paranoid. He split the activities between Razor, Saucedo and a third man, Jesus Lopez so no one man would know the full routes and schedules.

  “And where is this Lopez guy now? Wouldn’t it make sense to grab him up too, and get all the intel from him as well?” The Birdman asked.

  “Lopez is related to Gomez, cousins, I think. He will never take my word, won’t say a thing without clearing it directly with Gomez. Saucedo is the weak link. He’ll tell me whatever he has to in order to convince me he is loyal to Gomez,” Garcia said.

  “How long do we plan to be inside?” Mother asked. “The longer we’re in there, the more risk we have. I can’t imagine his crew will just step aside and not try to protect him.”

  “That’s why we go in strong. We project power and confidence, a real don’t fuck with us attitude. The one thing that is respected in the cartel is rank and position. If they believe we are there with Gomez’s authority, we own the place,” Garcia said.

  “And we’ll be right outside, ready to come in if needed,” Cooper chimed in. He and the three others who would provide outside cover were geared up with body armor beneath their street clothes. Cooper had a .40 caliber handgun holstered beneath each arm, and his favorite short-barreled rifle ready. The others were equally armed.

 
“Will the DEA be pulled, or do we need to coordinate on-site with them?” The Undertaker asked.

  “They will be notified we are coming in. We never got to the specifics of coordination with Manning,” Cooper said.

  Several of the men chuckled.

  “Yeah, I can only imagine how that call went,” Lambchop said.

  “Yvette will coordinate the transfer of Saucedo to the DEA after we bring him out. They’ll keep him in a hole someplace until it no longer matters who knows he is in the DEA’s custody,” Garcia said.

  “Okay, that’s it, gentlemen. Let’s roll, and let’s do this by the numbers,” Cooper ordered. His eyes shifted to Lambchop.

  “Dear Lord, keep us, your faithful sons safe while we fulfill our mission. Keep any and all innocent civilians far outside the line of any fire. We pray for strength and clear thoughts in the name of your son, Jesus Christ, Amen,” Lambchop spoke.

  “Amen,” the men repeated and then took up their weapons. They filed out and went into the garage and loaded up. Four Harley’s sat near the garage door exit. Garcia, Mother, the Birdman, and Lambchop straddled them and turned them over, the throaty pipes shattering the silence in the garage. They rode out first, followed by their backup team in two SUVs.

  The four men entered the seedy dive-bar in the worst part of Chicago like they owned the place. Razor glanced around the dark, smoke-filled interior, looking for Saucedo. In the low lighting cast from the many neon beer signs, he caught sight of him at a table in the back corner. He led the other men to him, brushing past Saucedo’s men who attempted to stop them.

  “You don’t want to fuck with us,” Razor growled as one stepped in front of him. “We’re here on Gomez’s authority.” The man stepped out of the way.

  “Saucedo,” he said as he stepped up to the table where the man still sat.

  “Razor,” he acknowledged.

  “We need to talk in private in the back room.”

  Saucedo’s lips quirked into a smirk that was surrounded by his Fu Manchu. “I don’t fucking think so.”

  Razor knocked the table out from in front of Saucedo and grabbed him by the neck. Glasses shattered on the floor. He pulled him to his feet. “I don’t think you understand the fucking situation. Gomez knows there is a fucking rat in your operation. Info that only your crew knows has been leaked to the God-damned DEA,” he whispered in Saucedo’s ear. “We’re here on Gomez’s orders to look into it.”

  One of Saucedo’s men rushed in when Razor grabbed him. Lambchop punched him in his stomach as he reached him, dropping the man to the floor. A second man loyal to Saucedo drew his gun. The Birdman drew his in a smooth movement and shot the man in the right shoulder, in the outer fleshy part. “The next man who moves gets one in the head. That was a flesh-wound on purpose.”

  That man grabbed his bleeding shoulder, moaning in pain.

  Mother raised his knee and pulled the handle of his knife from his right boot. He hit the button on the switchblade and his very sharp knife sprung into place. He pressed it against Saucedo’s cheek, the blade just this side of slicing into flesh. “Tell them to stand down,” he snarled.

  “Everyone, back off. You fucking got the wrong guy,” Saucedo said.

  “Which way to your back room?” Razor growled.

  Saucedo pointed to the door beside the bar. Razor pulled him to it. The three others followed. Two of Saucedo’s men attempted to join them.

  “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck out till we’re done and be glad Gomez himself didn’t come here to deal with this shit-storm,” Razor said with a glare to the two men.

  Once in the back room, Garcia pushed Saucedo against a wall. Mother and Lambchop came in close, knives to Saucedo’s throat. The Birdman stayed by the door, his gun in his grasp. None of Saucedo’s men tried to enter.

  “I know you, Razor, but I don’t know who the fuck these two bastards are,” Saucedo said.

  “Count yourself lucky that you’ve never met these two before. They’re Gomez’s personal mecánicos,” Razor said.

  “I don’t understand,” Saucedo stammered. “I’m loyal to Gomez and he knows it.”

  “Someone in your crew isn’t. Your last errand? Who were the men who went with you? Who knew the details?” Razor asked. “Gomez sent me to find out, Saucedo.”

  Saucedo started talking and he didn’t stop for ten minutes. He spewed every detail with barely a breath taken. He repeated the diarrhea of the mouth with every question Razor asked. When they were finished, Razor and the wire recording it, had a complete narrative of everything Saucedo did for Gomez for the past six months. He too had no info on Mendoza, hadn’t seen him during the half year, which in itself was suspicious as Saucedo reported that he had previously had regular check-ins with the man who was in Gomez’s upper ranks and responsible for every shipment from Chicago to the entire east coast.

  “Okay, I’m convinced it’s not you, Saucedo,” Razor said. “But you need to come with us right now.” He pointed to the rear door. “You can’t even check in with your second. We need to see what he does after you’re gone. Someone in your organization is in bed with the fucking DEA.”

  “My crew?” Saucedo argued. “No, I won’t fucking believe it.”

  “This is how it has to be. I’ve got them,” Mother said, coming in close. “Gomez’s orders.”

  Saucedo nodded and pulled himself off the wall, shaking off the two men who had held knives to his throat just seconds earlier. “How do you know it was someone on my crew and not Lopez’s? He was running right behind us, on every errand.”

  This was news to Razor. Why would that have been the case? He played it cool. “We already looked into them. Lopez and his crew have been cleared. The leak is on your crew, Saucedo, and we’ll find who it is and fucking deal with them.”

  Mother and Lambchop exchanged menacing grins, the assassins who couldn’t wait to punish the disloyal. They played their parts well, convincingly.

  “Look into whoever you want. I trust my crew,” Saucedo said confidently.

  “Do you trust them with your life? Or would you stake yours on them?” Mother sneered. “That’s what you need to ask yourself.”

  They escorted Saucedo out the back door and up to one of the black SUVs. No one was within. Saucedo climbed in the back seat when prompted. Garcia pulled a flask from his pocket. “Here, you need this more than I do right now.” He handed it to Saucedo.

  Saucedo downed a healthy swallow and handed it back. He was unconscious seconds later.

  “Subject ready for transport,” Garcia said out loud.

  Cooper and Doc came around the corner and got in, to transport him to the DEA. Cooper spoke into his comms. “Control, we’re on the move. Coordinate with the DEA for handoff please.”

  “Roger that Coop. Head north. I’ll get you the location for the drop once I have it,” Yvette replied.

  Garcia and company got on their bikes and rode away. The second SUV with Jackson and the Undertaker followed the bikes. Jackson made the report to Ops.

  In the Ops Center, Sienna finally breathed. When the gunshot had sounded through the room, her heart skipped a beat and fear shot through her. She stopped breathing in that moment. Even though each man had a camera on them that broadcast what was going on, it was so dark in there that the only thing she could clearly see was from the scarf around Anthony’s head, Saucedo’s face in the very dim lighting. She had no way of knowing if Anthony had been shot, or any of the other men on his team. She didn’t recognize the Birdman’s voice at first, after the shot was fired. Madison whispered to her who was speaking and what she interpreted each event to mean.

  “Okay, they’re out,” Madison said. “Let’s head to the apartment.” Her eyes went to Yvette and BT, who were pulling a long rotation in Ops. “Good night. We’re taking off now.”

  Yvette flashed a weary grin at them. “It was a good Op, and everyone is coming home. Have a good night. I’m not back till next week. Good luck with eve
rything.”

  Madison gave her a quick hug on the way out. “Have a good few days off. You deserve them.”

  The two women took the stairs to nine. Madison’s code worked on the outside of the apartment door to unlock and open it. Within, Sienna wandered around the small room. Calling it an apartment was generous. It was a studio apartment, maybe. There was one open room with a queen-sized bed against the far wall with a floor to ceiling window. A television and a small seating area with two over-stuffed chairs and a small table sat nearest the door. Behind them was a small kitchenette with a sink, counter, a few cabinets and a microwave. Beside it was the door to the bathroom.

  The room was decorated in neutral colors. Madison crossed the room and closed the curtains. Then she went to the kitchenette area and grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn. “Are you still up for popcorn and a movie?”