Captivated in Cancun

by KaLyn Cooper

  “I don’t care if it is his wedding day; he can’t treat our sons like that.” Lilly jerked free only to find Jack blocking her way.

  “I want to punch that son of a bitch so bad it’s taking everything I have to stay here.” Jack held her shoulders immovable. “But Levi is right. Just show the boys how much you love them when they get over here.” He looked at Levi. “We’ll do the same.”

  Damn, she loved her brothers. They had grown into such wonderful, caring men. Her boys would need them in their lives because their father wouldn’t model that behavior. She nodded and eased the tension from her body. Jack pulled her into a hug. “We’ll show them how real men treat their sons.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Over his shoulder she watched Preston take Greyson’s hand. “Good. Bye. Father.” He practically spat out the words. Unfortunately, they were ignored by the man who had provided his DNA. He’d moved on in more ways than Lilly wanted to believe.

  Preston practically marched to the dock, never looking at back.

  Lilly knelt and scooped her boys into a group hug. “I love you.” She kissed them both before standing. “Hop in the boat.”

  Jack and Levi stood side-by-side on the deck, arms open, welcoming smiles. “Jump.”

  With the trust only a small child has in adults, Greyson launched his small body into Levi’s arms. Preston was more hesitant, but his youthful smile gave Lilly a world of hope. He leaped at Jack’s chest. After a long hug, her brother set him on the deck and turned toward her. “Come on, sis. Jump.”

  Her boys chanted, “Jump. Jump. Jump.”

  Levi stepped beside Jack, and she suddenly saw their similarities. Each bore a vague resemblance to their father who had loved them all, and never let them forget it until the day he died.

  She nodded and warned, “You asked for it.” She leaped into the arms of the two men she knew loved her. As they sandwiched her in a hug, each promised, “We’ve got you...and them.”

  The Hallmark moment was over quickly as the dock boy called, “Ready to cast off?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  Lilly wasn’t sure which brother had spoken but she shared the sentiment.

  “Do we have time to go swimming on the way home?” Greyson asked as he threw his dress clothes onto the blue indoor-outdoor carpet and stood nude waiting for an answer.

  Preston grabbed his bathing suit from the duffel and began unbuttoning the pink shirt, his knees bent to stabilize his body as the boat moved away from the dock. He looked up at his mother and called out over the roar of the powerful engines. “Do I ever have to wear this stupid pink shirt again?”

  She answered her youngest first, holding out his swim trunks in hopes he’d step into them. “No, you can swim when we get home.” She turned her gaze to her eldest. “And, no, you never have to wear that shirt again as far as I’m concerned.”

  Preston grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and ripped it open, buttons flying in the wind as Jack hit the gas. He peeled the pink punishment off and let it drift away to drown in the ocean.

  Lilly burst out laughing and gathered her half-naked boys in her arms. They were going to be okay.

  When Preston finished changing into trunks, he strode up to the helm. “Will you teach me to drive the boat, Uncle Jack?”

  Her brother gave the boy a one-armed hug. “I was eight when I learned to drive a boat. Maybe—”

  “I’m almost eight.” Preston countered whatever Jack was going to say.

  “You just turned seven.”

  “But I’m a mature seven so that’s like being eight in the old days.”

  Jack threw back his head and laughed as he hauled Preston onto his lap.

  Greyson stood and waved wildly. Automatically Lilly looked to the shore where Betsy, Dalton, and Kalista waved and smiled. Brighton turned his head and scowled at them over his shoulder.

  What the hell had she ever seen in that man...beyond his good looks? She answered her own question...the fairytale.

  She slumped back into the bench seat next to her mother who was watching her intensely. “I know.” Her mom drew her into her arms and Lilly just wanted to curl up and cry like a child. It had been one hell of a day and it wasn’t over. She had to face Josh that night.

  And the hits just kept on coming.

  Chapter 18

  “Do you ever get tired of the beautiful sunsets?” Stacie asked on a sigh as the last arc of sun slipped below the blue horizon of the Caribbean Sea, washing the world in bands of purple, rust, pink, and gold.

  Training forced Josh to refuse to pull his gaze from the binoculars he used to watch the coyote’s safe house. He didn’t think the question was directed at him anyway.

  “No,” Jeff answered. “About the time I start to ignore them, a hurricane blows through. The skies are dark gray for days with no sunshine, just rain coming at you sideways. When it’s gone, it’s like everything is new all over again.”

  Josh found the casually professional relationship between Stacie and Rock Star interesting—he had a hard time calling the man who’d served as one of his Lieutenants for three years by his civilian name, Jeff, but needed to, now they both worked for Border Patrol.

  “I think I could live here.” Her voice was contemplative but low as she adjusted the headphones connected to the five-inch directional microphone that was recording the conversation in the safe house. They were three hundred feet away from the target on a rooftop down the neighborhood street.

  “Planning to quit on me?” Josh asked.

  “No, Josh, never.” She glanced his way. “I love my job. Taking dirt bags like these guys off the streets makes me feel like everything I do really counts.”

  He knew exactly how she felt. That’s why he’d left the Navy. Political correctness mandated by Congress drew the bindings tighter and tighter until his SEALs’ hands were tied so tight they couldn’t effectively do their jobs. Hunting terrorists in foreign countries had become little more than knocking on doors and asking the bad guys to come out, like a local policeman.

  Stacie lightly laid her fingertips on Jeff’s bicep. He didn’t flinch, just moved his face toward hers expectantly. Again, their reactions to one another amazed Josh. She wasn’t flirting. It was their means of silent communication. “In case I haven’t said it lately, I can’t thank you enough for helping me get this job.”

  “You got the job, Stace. I just introduced you to a few people.” Jeff gave her a reassuring smile before he returned his gaze to the house down the block.

  In truth, the man had extolled her experience with Naval Intelligence and innate abilities to anyone in Customs and Border Protection who’d listen. Josh was thrilled that his predecessor had been smart enough to hire her. She’d proven herself on the battlefield and up close and personal with the locals, deep undercover, once for months with Jeff. Josh knew she’d be an asset and both she and Jeff had an excellent opportunity to move up within the Department of Homeland Security.

  “You’re kind of uptight tonight.” Stacie lifted her hand from his arm and scanned the area through her own binoculars. “What’s wrong? Got one of your bad feelings about this op?”

  Josh glanced at Jeff and their eyes met. Something had pricked his awareness about an hour ago. Maybe it had been the one-sided phone call they’d all listened to. Someone was headed their way and it had the people in the house on edge.

  “No, it’s not this fuckhead. He’s just another coyote we’ll stop, eventually.” A dark brown van cruised the street slowing as it passed the house they’d been watching.

  A white car streaked up and pulled in front of the safe house. Yitzak Reiman jumped out and stormed to the door.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” Stacie asked.

  “Has he ever been here before?” Josh watched as a huge block of a man flung the door open before Zak could knock. He was yanked in and the door immediately slammed behind him.

  “No,” Jeff answered.

  Stacie hushed the men be
side her as they screwed in ear buds so they could listen into the conversation inside. She looked at Josh. “How good is your Spanish?”

  “Not good at all.” He shrugged. “Give me any number of Middle Eastern languages and dialects and I’m good but—”

  She held up her index finger and translated for him.

  “Coyote, ‘You shouldn’t have come here. It’s too dangerous for all of us.’ Zak, ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think. These will go tonight and the special packages will ship tomorrow. Then I’m done.’”

  “Someone new just walked into the room,” Jeff announced. He was using the newest thermal binocs available.

  “New guy, ‘It doesn’t end until I say it’s...over...ending,’” Stacie explained and cupped her hands over her earphones. She moved a dial that controlled the mic. “You get the idea. The words don’t exactly translate one for one. Zak, ‘You don’t understand, Enrique. My ship has been bought out by Americans and they don’t like me.’ New guy, ‘The Girards? That fucking American SEAL is buying your ship?’” Stacie’s wide eyes looked up at Josh. “They know about Jack? And his whole family?” Through their headphones they all heard pacing. Then a smack as though someone had been punched.

  Stacie quickly stared back at the house. Through a slit in the curtains, they all saw the new guy was toe-to-toe with Zak as the conversation restarted. “New guy—I guess his name is Enrique, ‘I make the plans. We have the most important package ever ready to ship next week.’ Sounds like he’s pacing. Enrique, ‘Okay then, smart ass, you get yourself hired onto another ship line. I’ll give you two weeks then we start again.’”

  They watched the red, ghost-like image of Enrique grab Zak around the neck. Stacie continued translating, but Josh understood all too well. “Enrique, ‘Nod if you understand me.’”

  When Enrique let Zak go, Josh caught a flash of the Los Zetas tattoo on his bicep. That connection was confirmed.

  “Zak is talking again but I can barely hear him. ‘I’ve moved to the ship that’ll be here tomorrow so I can personally see the special packages get to the United States.’”

  “Coyote, ‘But these will be put on board tonight.’”

  Zak answered “Si.” Josh knew that was Spanish for yes.

  Enrique moved and swept the curtain aside as the brown van crawled past.

  “Fuck,” Jeff swore as he picked up his rifle and looked through the scope. “I could take him out right now.”

  “No,” Josh snapped. “We don’t know where the tangoes are.”

  Stacie interrupted, “They’re talking again. Enrique is telling Zak to get back to his ship and prepare for the eight packages to be delivered shortly. Enrique, ‘Where are you staying tonight? You can’t stay at one of our...safe houses.’”

  “Zak, ‘No, the Girards are aware I’m staying on Cozumel in a hotel. They are scheduled to tour the Desire tomorrow. Then they’re going to be too busy to worry about the ship or what we’re doing. Is everything on schedule there?’”

  “Enrique, ‘Yes, we have men watching the house now. They know what to do and will retrieve the small package tomorrow.’ I guess they’re talking about the safe house where tangoes are hiding.” Stacie glanced over at Josh.

  “Could be,” Josh agreed. “You’re sure they said small package?” Translating wasn’t easy and maybe she’d gotten a word or two wrong. That small package could be more drugs to pay off the next coyote...or a bomb.

  “Yes,” Stacie said with certainty in her voice. “Positive.”

  Didn’t matter. They’d take these fuckers down tomorrow and retrieve whatever was in the small package they were carrying. They’d never get on that ship.

  Stacie continued, “Enrique is speaking again, ‘Leave now and make sure you do have everything under control.’”

  Zak all but ran to his car and sped away.

  Dusk had moved quickly into darkness as the three waited and watched.

  “That van’s back and slower than last trip past.” Josh made a mental note of the every scratch and dent although they had several pictures of it. These coyotes weren’t overly concerned about getting caught. They should have been switching things up, changing the timing, routines. But according to Stacie’s and Jeff’s reports, the coyotes used the same house and the same route every time.

  “Lots of movement inside. Looks like they’re gathering near the door,” Stacie noted, anticipation in her quiet voice.

  “Roger that. Move out.” Josh tapped Stacie’s shoulder, and she gracefully rose from her kneeling position at the three-foot block wall that surrounded the rooftop. She grabbed her backpack as Jeff stripped down his rifle and secured it.

  They scurried down three flights with sure-footed ease, intent on reaching the street before the van was loaded with illegals. At the bottom landing, Stacie smoothed out her sundress and slipped into the three-inch sandals she’d retrieved from her sack while Jeff stowed her high-tech ankle boots in their place.

  Quite a team. They worked well together.

  Josh cracked the door open and watched a man in a traditional, stark white guayabera shirt jump out of the passenger’s side and head to the safe house door. He heard the clink as Stacie slid several colorful bracelets onto her left wrist. It was a nice touch since she shot right-handed. The familiar slide of metal on metal filled the small space as she checked her loaded forty caliber pistol.

  “Ready,” she assured both men. She laid her hand on Jeff’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He did the same to Josh.

  Stacie pasted on a pout and Jeff grinned back at her, a glint of excitement in their eyes.

  “Let’s do this.” She grabbed Jeff’s hand and threw open the door, towing him as though he were reluctant. “I want to go to Coco Bongo and dance and drink all night,” Stacie demanded in a tempestuous tone as she headed for a silver sedan.

  Jeff stopped in the middle of the street and pulled her into his arms all while making sure he had a good view of the brown van and the safe house. His eyes darted left, right, and up, checking to see if the human traffickers had positioned someone to cover their exit. “Oh, babe, not again. Can’t we just get something to eat and go back to my place? I’m beat.” He made it sound real. Josh was impressed, but it obviously wasn’t their first time acting out this scenario.

  “I know what you want.” Stacie stroked Jeff’s chest and checked their six as she nuzzled into his shoulder. Quietly, so only Josh could hear through his com unit, she added, “All clear, Madman.”

  He smiled at her use of his handle.

  Josh slid out of the barely opened door and into the shadows, making his way to the car. All eyes would be on the arguing couple. He double-checked the perimeter to see that no one was around then quietly opened the door to the back seat and slid in.

  This time Jeff took Stacie’s hand as they moved side-by-side to the car conveniently parked across the street and up a few spaces for an optimal view.

  “Let’s just get some supper and we can decide where to go then.” Jeff’s voice was a little louder than necessary, but the driver in the running van blatantly tracked their every move, his scowl never easing.

  When Jeff held open the door for Stacie, she put her hand above the window, spread her feet in a defiant move and squared her shoulders. “No. I want you to commit right now that we’re going dancing tonight, or I’m going back into my apartment to call my peeps. My friends are always willing to spend the evening clubbing up and down the Hotel Zone.”

  Through the crack in the open car door, Josh could see four women and two men dressed in the gray housekeeping uniforms every cruise line seemed to use. Wordlessly, they piled into the van, never looking at the couple arguing across the street.

  A door slammed on the van, and Stacie all but yelled, “Fine, then. Let’s just go. We can talk about it on the way.” She whirled and planted herself in the car.

  The passenger door slammed shut on the van, and Josh heard the triple tap on the roof before it maneuvered into the sp
arse traffic. The huge coyote sauntered back into the safe house.

  “Hurry up before we lose them,” Stacie warned Jeff and buckled her seat belt.

  He reached the other side of the car in three long strides that looked casual and were anything but. Jeff jumped in, starting the car as he fastened his seat belt. He pulled out a few vehicles behind the van.

  “Do they have a tail car?” Josh asked.

  “They never have before, but I’ll bet they do tomorrow night.” Jeff turned left at the second light, just as the van had done. “So we should try to take them before they get into the van.”

  For five minutes they followed the transport vehicle through the back streets of San Miguel as it wound its way circuitously toward the cruise ship docks.

  “I should have gotten a car so we could hand the tail off to each other,” Josh chastised himself.

  “Not a problem,” Jeff said. “I’m pretty sure we know where they’re going.”

  Stacie added, “They’re really bold assholes. I guess they feel protected with the Los Zetas running the show.”

  Hands easy on the steering wheel, Jeff watched the van turn right down a small side street that was more of an alley. Before Josh could ask, Jeff informed him, “I know better than to go there. Don’t worry, Madman, we’ve got this.”

  They continued past the narrow entrance and got stopped at the next light behind a convertible filled with college-aged girls. Jeff pointed toward Stacie’s side window and hand signaled for Josh to watch for the van.

  Sure enough, the transport vehicle sped past on the next street over.

  Always vigilant, Josh checked everything surrounding them. There didn’t seem to be any additional guards along the way. This was so different from the Middle East where he’d been involved for the past fifteen years. Bad guys would have had snipers on every rooftop and a caravan of armed men. He wasn’t sure if the traffickers were brilliant for hiding in plain sight or too bold for their own good.

  “This street merges with the one they’re on in about three blocks,” Stacie said. Luck was on their side and the brown van pulled in right behind them.