by Eileen Green
Walking out into the living room, Tinker saw a man sitting on the couch, a wicked smile on his lips. A handgun sat in his lap which he had one hand on.
“Ah, Senor Jameson, I’m sorry we had to wake you,” the evil man said with amusement in his voice.
A man from behind Tinker said something in Spanish, making Tinker wish he had taken it in school. “Nadie más está en la casa.”
The nasty man on the couch nodded, the smile disappearing from his face. Impatience was in his voice as he inquired, “Where is Senorita Winters?”
Tinker had already decided what he was going to tell them. He just had to hope it worked. “She’s working.”
Evil man on the couch pointed with his gun for Tinker to sit on one of the chairs across the coffee table from him. Tinker debated on which one to sit in, and his mind was made up. The one closest to the fireplace where one last log was still burning was at an angle, so the sitter could enjoy the heat. There were also weapons nearby that he could use.
“But the senorita worked the night before last. She is off duty until tomorrow morning. So, again I ask, where is she?”
These men knew way too much of their lives. They must have been following all of them around. If they were, did they know where Jackson lived?
With indifference, Tinker gave his answer. “As I said, she’s working. She took an extra shift because one of the other EMTs called in sick. That’s what she told me.”
The man chuckled. “It looks like she is playing around on you.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Tinker remained quiet.
“Okay. Another question, and you better tell the truth. Where is Jackson Malone?” The evil man watched Tinker carefully, his gun now held lightly in his hand.
The two men who had come into the bedroom were short, perhaps five six, five seven. Dark skin, as if they spent too much time in the sun, could be seen where they’re clothes didn’t cover. Dark brown hair and eyes spoke of their Mexican heritage. The man before him was also Hispanic, older than the other two.
“I have no idea,” Tinker answered sadly. “He left us yesterday, probably because of you and your threats.”
Apparently, his answer wasn’t welcome. The gun was raised and aimed before he felt the tearing impact of a bullet moving through the lower part of his thigh. He knew the femoral artery passed through the thigh, and he had to hope nothing vital had been hit.
There was no sound due to a silencer on the gun. No one in the other apartments would know what was going on inside, reducing Tinker’s hope a bit.
Tinker bit back the pain. He had to hope that Abigail had gotten the text off to Jackson and that he was somehow on his way here. Knowing he would be collateral damage, Tinker was willing to die to keep her safe where she was hiding once the hostage standoff began.
“Did Senor Malone say where he was going?” the man asked with a sneer, his gun waving around carelessly as he spoke.
“No. He wanted us safe, so he said he was leaving. He left last night, and I haven’t heard back from him.” Tinker hoped he sounded convincing.
Apparently, he failed. Another bullet found its way into the back of his calf. “Fuck!” he exclaimed as he glared at the man on the couch.
“It would be in your best interest to tell me where Jackson Malone is. Otherwise, you will have many bullets in you.”
Tinker could only pray that help was on the way.
* * * *
Abigail was shaking as she huddled in the dark with all the blankets on top of her. She was also burning up.
Her heart had stopped beating when the door had been opened and Tinker gave himself up. She had been certain that he had been able to hide also.
Through her tears, she opened the last conversation Tinker had with Jackson. She read the words which made her cry more. He had reached out to them, but after Tinker had told their lover that he had ripped out her heart, Jackson hadn’t written back. Had he given up after such a short time?
Last night as she cried in Tinker’s arms, she had decided she wasn’t giving up on Jackson. She didn’t know how, but he was going to be in her and Tinker’s life. Now, she had to hope he still wanted them.
Please help. men here. They have Tinker.
Hitting the send button, she prayed that help would come in time.
The need to breathe some fresh air had her digging into the blankets against the wall and made an opening. Dragging in a deep breath, she felt better.
She never liked silence. Even as a kid she had to have noise going on. The radio, a CD playing, and as an adult, she would leave the TV on just for the sound. The silence had her bristling.
The phone vibrated in her hand. Looking at the screen, her heart did a little flutter.
Help is on the way. Where are you?
Hiding in the bedroom closet. Tinker buried me under blankets.
Stay there. Where is Tinker?
Don’t know. They took him out of the closet.
Can you hear anything?
No.
Hold tight.
She took a deep breath. Jackson had to know if this didn’t end well.
I love you.
He didn’t miss a beat. He replied right away.
I love you and Tinker, too, with all my heart.
Tears filled her eyes. She knew that he really did love them. It was how he handled the situation that had upset her. He hadn’t talked to them about the danger, just decided what he thought best. Well, he was going to get a piece of her mind once they were safe. If they were safe.
Abigail knew she had to let him do what he did best to get Tinker to safety. She wanted her last statement to be important in case they didn’t make it out of this mess.
Chapter Eleven
John Drake had taken over a coffee shop a block over from the apartment complex. The manager had been upset that the doors were locked and that they would lose a morning’s worth of sales. Of course, the amount of coffee everyone in the building consumed would rival the normal sales.
A whiteboard had been presented and was propped up on a table in front of the window. It was situated so that no one on the street could see what was being drawn there, but of course, all the official cars in the parking lot stuck out like a sore thumb. If Jackson and Alex had been in charge, things would have been run differently.
The phone laying on the table before Jackson was mockingly silent. Her last words were she and Tinker loved him. He knew they did, but they also weren’t going to forgive him after this was all over.
There would be more men coming to kill him if the rescue worked in their favor. He knew he couldn’t put his lovers in danger, but he knew now, he couldn’t live without them. Alex had been right. In the military, you don’t leave anyone behind. That applied to relationships. You don’t leave someone behind just because you want to protect them.
Jackson also knew the first rule of BDSM was communication. He had failed with that one also. He had failed his lovers in the worst way.
He kept his ears open, listening to the plans that were being made, but his eyes were on the phone. It was a lifeline to Abigail at the moment.
John didn’t want him near the apartment. It was best if he kept back so that bullets didn’t fly and possibly hit Tinker. Anger had settled upon him. He was the one who needed to go in and save his friends, his lovers.
“I promise to get them out of this, safe and sound,” Alex whispered from his seat next to Jackson.
For once, Jackson was speechless. He actually felt numb.
His attention was captured, as was everyone else’s in the shop. Five men entered wearing black tactical pants and black long-sleeved T-shirts. Black beanies were on their heads, ones that Jackson knew could be pulled down to hide their wearer’s faces.
The pockets of the tactical pants would be filled with gadgets and devices used out in the field, the field being anywhere in the world that these former Navy Seals called their workplace.
Felix “Snake” Ramirez, Abigail’s p
artner, was the first one in the door, indicating he was taking the lead. Behind him was Adam “Shark” Thompson, Jenson “Eagle” Blake, Dominic “Cheetah” Morino, and Shane “Beast” Owens, all former Seals.
Ramirez had been a Seal also. He had gotten out when his wife had been diagnosed with breast cancer. She had kept from telling him until she was stage four. He lost her a few months later.
The others had jumped ship around the time Alex left. Tiger had been a cool commander. He ran a tight ship, but was one of the guys. It was rumored that the CO that was coming on board was a by-the-book hard ass, and no one wanted that.
Adam was a fantastic swimmer, hence the name Shark. Jenson was the flyer and climber, utilizing a zipline well when the situation called for it. He was known as Eagle. Morino had been a track star in high school and could run like the wind. Cheetah fit him like a glove. Shane was a wrestler. He was six foot two of brawn, and he utilized it well. Felix was fast when it came to striking with his martial arts, so he was Snake.
Of course, Alex was Tiger. Jackson was Sloth, and not because he was slow. It was because he had to ability to sit quietly and watch the action before him, without moving a muscle. He hated the name, but once you got branded with one, it was beyond impossible to get it removed.
Silence settled on the room as the five intimidating men stood where they had stopped. Felix stepped forward, speaking as he did so. “We’re a part of this rescue, and we aren’t going to take no for an answer. We can get in, take care of business, and be out in a few minutes.”
Jackson perked up. His friends were coming to the rescue.
Felix continued, speaking directly to John Drake who seemed a bit amused by the newcomers. It was almost as if he had dealt with people taking control and telling him they weren’t going to take no as an answer.
“We drove by the complex, and there are two sentries posted at each end of the complex. We can take them out quietly, and then we can get the neighbors out also. If bullets begin to fly, which we hope they don’t, apartment walls are thin. A bullet can rip through the wall and take out any unsuspecting tenants, and we don’t want that.”
Drake looked at Alex and then Jackson. “Your opinions, gentlemen?”
Alex stood. As most of the people in the room were sitting, Jackson could only imagine what they were thinking as they looked up the six feet-four-inch giant that he was. Being only a couple inches shorter than his friend, Alex could be intimidating.
“Not to go against your directions, John, but I think we could very well utilize my men. With all their different backgrounds and specialties, we stand a better chance to get everyone out alive. I would trust them with my own life.” Alex’s voice boomed in the room, giving credence to his Dom voice that had every sub in the club scared of him.
“I second that,” Jackson finally spoke up. “These are the people you want on your side. They know how to do things that you don’t even want to acknowledge.”
“They are no longer in the military. They’re civilians. If the press finds out about this, they will eat us alive.” One agent pointed out the obvious. He was at a small table next to Jackson.
“They are discreet. They are covered from head to foot, and no one will know who they are,” Alex said, turning his attention to the man who had challenged the former Seals. “Their job is to get in and get out with minimal damage, and they disappear into thin air after it’s all over.”
John Drake was eyeing the five men in black. The dark suits the Feds were wearing stood out and practically told the world who they were. The dark uniforms the Seals wore spoke volumes, and no one wanted to challenge them.
Well, almost nobody. There was always one in the bunch that had to rock the boat.
The man who was against the new angle was Hispanic which piqued Jackson’s curiosity. He knew that the cartels usually had inside information when it came to law enforcement, and now the man had Jackson’s full attention. Was it possible he was a part of the cartel?
“I’ll concede.” Drake put down the marker he still held in his hand.
Felix nodded to Alex, offering him the lead since he had been their commanding officer. Alex stepped forward and had a little huddle with the new arrivals.
Jackson continued to watch the man at the next table. When the man took his phone out of the inside of his coat pocket and began to type, suspicion was raised in Jackson’s head. Rising, Jackson moved behind the man to refill his coffee, for the pots were behind him.
Jackson hadn’t picked up the pot yet for he was able to look over the agent’s shoulder. The words Seals and get out sent up red flags in Jackson’s head.
Blindly setting his cup aside, Jackson stepped quietly up to the back of the man’s chair. Quick as a flash, Jackson had his arm around the agent’s neck, and his other arm grabbed the hand that held the phone. The device clattered on the table as Jackson pulled the man up and away from the table.
“What the hell?” Drake exclaimed moving immediately toward Jackson.
“Get his phone!” Jackson demanded. “I saw part of what he was getting ready to text.”
Drake picked up the phone as the man continued to struggle in Jackson’s arms. He read the text aloud. “‘Seals taking over. Get rid of them. Get out.’ Thankfully he didn’t get a chance to send it.”
Gasps sounded all over the room. The man to Jackson’s right stood and produced a pair of handcuffs. Pushing the man down to his knees, Jackson held on to him until he was restrained, handcuffed to a chair.
“You’re cartel, Martinez?” Drake demanded in disbelief. “All these years?”
Moving around to face the man who could have very well gotten Tinker and Abigail shot, Jackson could see the smugness in Martinez’s face. He also had a defiant tilt to his chin.
Unable to contain himself, Jackson slugged the man in the jaw, knocking him and the chair he was attached to, over. Several men moved toward him, but Jackson backed up.
Alex was at his side in a flash. “You okay?” he asked Jackson.
“Yeah. I’m just glad I saw it before he was able to send it.”
John Drake was still looking down at Martinez, who was being righted by two other agents. “How long, Martinez? Was it since the beginning? Or, did they get to you?”
“Lawyer.” Martinez was smart. He was going to go silent until his lawyer was advising him.
Felix was talking up at the whiteboard. He had drawn the apartment complex on it, and X’s were beginning to appear. Positions were being marked as he handed out jobs for each of them.
Looking around him, Jackson watched the agents. None of them were on their phones, which was a good sign to him, and they were watching Felix with interest. FBI agents could only do things a certain way, so watching experts preparing to get ready for a mission would interest them.
“Weapons are in the back of my SUV,” Felix mentioned as if he was discussing the groceries in there. “We move in five.”
That was a lot sooner than what Drake and his guys were going to do. In fact, the local SWAT leader wasn’t even there yet. They would have to wait for him to arrive, then go over the plan, have him go back to his team to dole out orders, and then be on their way. It would probably take an hour before they were positioned in front of the apartment complex, announcing their arrival to the world.
Alex nodded to Felix who left the coffee shop with the other men. Jackson wasn’t going to want to miss this, and Alex knew it. The two, along with John Drake, followed their friends out the door and climbed into Alex’s silver Dodge pickup.
Jackson and Alex were in blue jeans and dark T-shirts while John Drake was in a black suit and white shirt. He was the epitome of a Fed.
As they made their way around the block, Alex casually informed him that there were handguns in the glove compartment. There were also some shotguns in the tool box in the truck bed.
Jackson retrieved the Glocks where Alex said they were. He checked to make sure the magazines were full and the guns were read
y to go. Drake was in the back seat, and Jackson could hear him doing the same.
They parked in the parking lot of the apartment complex across from Abigail and Tinker’s, facing in that direction.
Within moments, the action began. A dark figure slipped up behind a man standing at one end of the building, covering the man’s mouth with one hand, and then dragged him into the shadows of the carport. It was about a minute before the former Seal appeared again.
At the other end of the structure, the same scenario played out. “I’m in position,” Jenson said, his voice coming over the Bluetooth speakers on the dash. Alex had rigged the stereo to be able to pick up the team’s communications.
The two men began going door to door on the lower level and escorted anyone who was home out of their apartments. They made their way down to the far end of the parking lot and had them wait behind Felix’s white SUV. Jackson was pretty sure the guys took the tenants’ phones and chucked them in the vehicle to keep them from calling or texting anyone with what was happening.
Felix had made his way up the stairs on the far end of the building, keeping away from the stairs that went up closer to Abigail’s apartment at the other end. Since she lived several doors in from the staircase, getting the tenant out between her and the stairs was going to be tricky. If someone knocked on that person’s door, it could draw attention from Abigail’s place.
Once all the tenants who were home, since it was still early, had been led to the safety zone, Felix moved toward Abigail’s front door. As he walked, he removed his cap. He slipped into his EMT jacket, and in practically an instant, he looked like he was ready for work. The guns he had tucked into a holster at the back of his pants, and a shoulder holster, said he was fully ready for his job as a Seal.
The two men at each end of the building moved up the stairs quickly. One man opened the door to the apartment on the right of Abigail’s and stood in the doorway, far enough back so as not to be seen, his handgun held at the ready. His semi-automatic rifle was slung over his shoulder, ready if he needed it. His mirror buddy was standing at the corner, behind the edge. He had his rifle at the ready.
