by KaLyn Cooper
“Anything new on that situation?” Josh was relieved that he could stay right there for the next few hours. He was more concerned about Preston than the terrorists. He could always catch those fuckers in Miami when the ship docked. Hell, he could even take them by putting Stacie and Jeff on board with some back up but Plan B had more than a few problems. Unlike a Navy ship, a cruise liner didn’t have a brig. Plan C was to have his tactical team waiting on the dock in Miami. The original Plan A would be best because if they killed all of them in Cancun, no one in the U.S.A. would care about a group of Muslims who were killed in Mexico. Hell, the incident wouldn’t even make local news if done right.
Josh’s phone rang, and he saw it was Jeff. “Talk to me.” He walked outside onto the balcony away from the Mexican agents but close enough to hear if anything happened in the kidnap case.
“I’ve run heat sigs on every safe house we know about in Cozumel and either the tangos aren’t here yet or they’re being kept someplace else.” Jeff sounded frustrated. “Damn it, Madman, the coyotes always move the merchandise in the night before. I got nothing here.”
“Keep watching,” Josh ordered. “They have to move them to the ship tonight according to Shit Sack Zak.” A noise from the library stole his attention. He stuck his head in only to find Mateo delivering food. “Have you heard that Lilly’s son Preston was kidnapped?”
“Yeah. Stacie told me. That sucks for the Girards.” Jeff was half right. It sucked for Josh, too.
“Did you identify any kids?” Josh asked.
“Just the normal ones at each house.”
“Have you ID’d any of the safe houses in Cancun?” The traffickers had to stage the people somewhere before taking them by boat to the island of Cozumel.
“No, sir.” Jeff’s regret filled those two words.
Beep. Beep.
“Got a call coming in from Central Ops. Stay in touch.” Josh ended the call when he accepted the second one. “Madden here.”
“Sir, we have a possible lead that came through human trafficking.” At the controller’s words Josh felt hope for the first time in hours. “A contact in Cancun said a special package arrived this afternoon and was prepared to be shipped out tonight. Sir, that seems to meet your criteria.”
“Excellent work.”
“Thank you, sir. Sending you the coordinates. Ops out.”
Josh went into the library where he overheard Levi calmly order the transfer of one point two million dollars into an account. The budgets Josh handled were about ten times that amount but this was personal worth the man was moving.
Lilly was rich. Much richer than he’d ever be. What would she want with a man like him? He couldn’t give her the lifestyle she was accustomed to, like the one her ex had provided her and the boys. Josh wasn’t some important surgeon with a mega salary. He was a government employee with a manageable income and a decent retirement.
He was suddenly glad he hadn’t told her how he felt. She’d been slumming with him. For the sex. Well, he’d be happy to continue with the sex until after the wedding. He’d get over Lilly. He’d have to.
“News?” Ed’s accented English halted thoughts of the woman he wanted to his core, but couldn’t have.
“Maybe. Do you have equipment that can read heat signatures?” Josh asked.
“It’s on its way here.”
Josh needed to know its estimated time of arrival. “ETA?”
“About thirty minutes.” Ed’s black eyebrows lifted. “What you got?”
“A special package waiting for a nighttime delivery.” Josh’s grin said the rest.
“Good.” Ed led Josh back out onto the balcony. “Nothing is happening here, and I have a bad feeling about this whole thing with Preston. Something’s not right. I feel it in my gut. But nothing I can do about it. The team leader says waiting for hours without contact is normal. It could go on for days before they get a ransom demand.” He glanced to where three PMI agents milled around as though they had nothing better to do than relax in this beautiful home and drink expensive coffee. Ed lowered his voice, “If they ever hear.”
No. That wasn’t a possibility. Josh would find Preston, and he would personally kill the bastards if anyone had hurt his boy.
Ten minutes later Luke Thorstad landed his black helicopter in the Girard’s front yard and walked into the house with familiarity and determination. Terrance Larkin showed up with Craig Michaelson just before the PMI truck arrived with weapons and gear. Stacie wandered out from her room as the big truck rolled up the rear door.
“You all remember Stacie Vandercoy. She worked undercover with Jeff in Iraq. She now works for me.” That was all the men needed to know. She was an asset to his team and they would soon see why.
“Is Jeff sitting this one out?” Terrance asked.
“He’s watching the safe houses on Cozumel.” Stacie expertly checked the M4 she’d selected as her weapon.
Jack screamed down the driveway and parked his mother’s Mercedes sedan in the garage before running back to the armored truck to join the rest of the team. “Mom stayed with Lilly. I’m going to check upstairs for a minute then I’ll be right back.” When Jack returned, he stripped his clothes off and changed into the uniform of the day.
“Hey, Madman, since we now—” Mikey started to say.
“He’s no longer Madman, he’s now Aquaman,” Jack corrected.
“Well, that goes with my question,” Mikey continued. “Since we now have a woman on our team, and we’re not in the Navy anymore, we can’t be SEALs. So what do you call your teams? The Vigilantes?”
“The Avengers would be more appropriate,” Terrance declared.
“Sorry, men, Aquaman wasn’t part of the Avengers,” Jack informed the group. “He was on the Justice League.”
“Good,” Stacie protested. “I don’t want to be Wasp. I’d rather be Wonder Woman. Josh, I mean Aquaman, can I get those cool bracelets that deflect bullets?”
“No,” Josh replied. “But Ed has provided you with a black flack jacket and this wonderful matching black helmet with a face mask.” He was happy to find them on the silly subject rather than fighting the anticipation of the mission in silence. During his years in the Teams, he’d heard it all, from which fast food restaurant made the best hamburger to which city had next year’s Super Bowl winner.
“So what you’re telling me is that all the time I spent on my make-up was for nothing?” Stacie joked. “Actually, I don’t wear make-up.” She strapped on the protective vest. “Hey, Aquaman, do I at least get the invisible jet?”
“I’ll let you ride in my black helicopter, and if I turn off the lights at night it looks invisible.” Luke adjusted the eight-inch knife on his right leg. “I must be Superman since I can fly. Where’s my red cape?”
“I’m the fastest person here, so I get to be Flash,” Terrance announced and dramatically looked around the area. “Where did I leave my magical ring that holds my red suit? Oh, and that treadmill thing that acts like a time machine?”
“So what does that leave me?” Mikey asked. “I led a deprived childhood—”
“And a depraved adulthood,” Terrance cut in.
“TMI for my virginal ears,” Stacie interjected.
Terrance burst out laughing. “Stacie, you lived with Jeff for six months in the desert. I can’t believe he left any part of your of your body virginal. That man gets laid more often than real rock stars.”
Stacie glared at him. “I’ll have you know we maintained a very professional relationship.”
Changing the subject before the bantering became even more crude, Josh announced, “Let’s see, there’s Green Lantern who was the leader of an intergalactic police force that fought evil across the Universe. He had a ring that granted him a variety of superpowers.”
“Hey, I was a SEAL who fought evil across every continent on this planet. I could be the Green Lantern.”
Mikey shook his head. “Not sure I like that handle. What else is there?�
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“Batman.” Josh and Stacie said at the same time.
Jack jumped in, “I get Batman. He’s too cool to be you, asshole. Besides, see, I’m all dressed in black.” Nobody pointed out they were all dressed in black by that point.
“Fuck.” Mikey relented. “I guess I’m the Green Lantern.”
“I like the Justice League moniker.” Jack exchanged the helmet for one without a scar where a bullet grooved through the Kevlar. “We need to exact some justice today.”
Laden with familiar tactical gear, Josh felt ready to take on the tangoes with his former SEALs and one highly skilled woman at his side. “Maybe I’m getting old, but that’s too many names to keep straight. We’re going to KISS this one. For tonight, Keep It Simple Stupid is the rule. We’re using our real first names,” Josh announced.
“Saddle up, boys and girl,” Jack pointed to the black SUV convoy that pulled in.
Josh clicked into mission mode. Take out the terrorists. Hopefully, by the time they finished this op, they’d be on a raid and retrieval for Preston, serving justice to the fuck heads who thought it was a good idea to kidnap his son.
Chapter 25
“Team Alpha ready,” Ed repeated in English through Josh’s ear bud.
Josh responded, “Bravo ready.”
Ed translated his words into Spanish as they prepared to breach the white block house where satellite thermal imaging had identified five men in a back bedroom. It was in the area Ed had shown Josh the other day where several Middle Easterners lived.
“Counting in Spanish after we blow the doors and toss in the flash bangs. Go on uno, like the children’s game,” Ed explained and began the countdown as everyone checked their masks.
The Josh’s team entered single file through the back door at the same time Ed’s team went through the front.
Screaming in several languages filed the air along with the smoke.
Crouched low, Josh led the way through what was obviously a kitchen. Sweeping left to right, over the barrel of his rifle he found no one. “Clear.”
Knees bent, he moved on silent feet into a hall. He hated fucking hallways. A door could open and someone could jump out and shoot at him with nowhere to hide.
Josh could distinguish Spanish shouting and someone closer spoke in a different language. It took his brain a second to recognize it.
“Stay hidden until I tell you to shoot.” That was a dialect of Arabic. Josh was sure he’d understood the instructions uttered in one of the nearby rooms.
“Put your weapons down and come out with your hands in the air,” Ed commanded, first in Spanish then English. “We have three men on their knees in the front room.”
Josh gestured for Jack to take the room on the right. The squeeze to his shoulder indicated the message had been received. Another tap on the same shoulder indicated Terrance was behind him. On Josh’s signal, he took the room on the left.
Terrance cracked the door open and the Arabic word for shoot could be heard loud and clear. Rapid machine gun fire splintered the thin wood sending bullets into the concrete wall across the hall.
Josh grabbed Terrance by the collar and yanked him down to the tile floor. Everyone with an ear bud heard the grunt as his lanky frame flattened. Wincing, the tall man rolled over, weapon at the ready. He belly crawled around the door jamb and shot in bursts.
“Three tangos down. Might be one more,” Terrance announced through his com mic breathing hard. “Think you broke my fucking ribs, Josh.”
Josh grabbed his foot and pulled the man out of the room.
“Can’t breathe,” the injured man said between sips of air.
“Fuck,” Josh exclaimed. “We need a medic.”
Ed answered, “On its way. Thought things might get ugly so base sent for several. ETA two minutes. Coming in dark. If it’s bad, Luke’s helo is close by.”
The tap on Josh’s shoulder was lighter and somehow he knew it was Stacie. “I got this.” In a crouch so low she was knee height for most men, she peered around the corner. “Thermal shows one moving in the corner, three sprawled between me and him. Last fucker’s mine.” She faded into the dissipating fog of the flash bangs.
Josh moved to cover her from the door and Craig had the hall at their back.
“Claro,” came through the com as Ed’s men cleared the house from the front.
Seconds later, three rapid shots echoed around the bedroom. “Fourth down and out.” As Stacie moved back to the door, the tango closest to Josh moved. Two to the head took care of him.
“Got three women and two kids,” Jack announced. “I’ll take them to the front when it’s clear.”
Stacie stepped back through the door and took her place behind Josh as they continued down the hall. The next door was a closet where they met Ed’s men in the hall.
With a nod, Josh announced, “All clear.”
“Ambulance is here,” Ed informed the American team. “Sending them in now.”
“I’ll check the dead and get the DNA samples you wanted.” Craig headed back down the hall.
“I’m with Flash until the medics get to him.” Wonder Woman followed him back down the hall.
“Women and children are coming out.” Jack trailed the five down the hallway.
In the living room, Josh watched one of Ed’s men pull a handcuffed tango off his knees and repeated the question, his snarling face only inches away.
Stacie stepped up beside Josh. “Medics are working on Terrance.” She watched the interrogation for a few seconds then translated, “He’s asking if there are more terrorists.” The man answered in Spanish. “He swears they are not terrorists. He claims we killed his cousins from Saudi Arabia. But don’t believe him. His accent is Syrian, not Saudi.”
Ed’s interrogator stared at Stacie then asked in broken English if she understood the man. She answered in fluent Spanish. A complete conversation took place that came to involve Ed and several of his men. Finally, she turned to Josh and explained, “None of the PMI men speak the Middle Eastern languages I do and this guy,” she gestured to the man under interrogation, “claims he doesn’t understand Ed’s men. They’re asking me if I can interpret for them.”
At Josh’s suggestion, they’d separated the three Muslim men and confirmed that the one in the kitchen was the undercover CIA agent who’d been feeding them information. His agency had already sent a plane for him. He’d covertly leave the country within hours with the DNA samples Craig had retrieved. They had offered Josh and Stacie a ride home but both declined, hoping to help find Preston. Then they had the wedding.
Terrance was on his way to the private hospital used by the Girard family where Dr. Stan was waiting for him. Josh expected an update on both him and Lilly, who was awake but spending the night for observation.
After half an hour of Mexican persuasion administered by Ed’s interrogators on the other two tangoes, Stacie announced, “The man in the second bedroom has been trained to resist. He’ll need drugs to break him.”
“We can send him to Guantanamo Bay.” Josh knew they’d make him talk and it was actually the closest federal detainment center to their location.
Stacie continued, “Los Zetas took the other man’s teenage daughter and are holding her captive. He was instructed to take care of these men until someone with a password, code kind of thing, came and got them. He runs a shop over in the Hotel Zone where they called him today. He was able to talk with his daughter who begged him to do as he was told. They said it would all be over tonight.”
She took a deep breath. “They’re expected to come for those men in the next few hours,” She tossed her thumb toward the back bedroom currently occupied by four bodies and a plethora of crime scene techs. “He’s afraid once they see the police and ambulance here, not to mention the front door hanging in pieces, they’ll kill his daughter.”
“He’s right.” Ed stepped aside as the two working dogs passed, one was hunting drugs and the other explosives. “If she’s pretty, th
ey’ll sell her. Los Zetas will probably kill him for failing them.”
“Can you offer him protection? Does Mexico have a witness protection program?” Stacie asked.
Ed laughed. “No. No one is safe here if you piss off Los Zetas.”
Part of Josh wanted to send the man and his family to the U.S.A., but the sane part reminded him the man had housed and sheltered terrorists. Who’s to say he wouldn’t do it again? No. This man must have had affiliations with the terrorists or they wouldn’t have chosen him.
“Are we done here?” Jack stood in front of Josh, phone in hand. “I need to get back home. There’s still been no ransom demand. Have you heard anything from your contacts?”
Josh was ready to move on also. Pictures of the dead men on the bedroom floor and the prisoners in the living room had been sent to Central Ops. Abdul-Quddus Mifsud had been identified by the CIA man and Homeland Security’s Command Operations Center. It would be confirmed with the DNA sample.
While wrapping things up with Ed, Josh’s phone rang. It was his Central Ops. “What do you have for me?”
“Human Trafficking Division’s confidential informant claims the special package was delivered to the island, but Command Ops’ facial recognition program confirms that Mifsud is dead in the back bedroom. HT is asking if they should kill the snitch or if you want to check out this new location in case there might have been a second team of tangoes. The CI is also asking for more money. Seems he wants it in cash. He needs out of Mexico because he thinks his cover has been blown with that last call. How do you want to proceed?”
“Send me everything. I’ll meet the confidential informant. I’ll kill him myself if he’s lying.” A diversionary team was certainly not out of the question, and they needed to be sure none of the tangoes made it to the United States.
“Very well. Everything is downloading now. Ops out.”
Josh found the CIA agent on the phone with Washington confirming his extraction details. He didn’t know anything about a second team, but he’d been a ways down the chain of command at the South American training camp and confirmed he might not have been told.
