C
HAPTER 18
A s the sun rose higher in the sky, the day’s temperature increased. It was a hot, muggy day and lying amid the tropical flora was an open invitation for all sorts of vampire-like insects to come suck your blood. It didn’t help the situation any when one was wearing heavy boots, camos, and a bulletproof vest. Jase did his best to ignore the little pests, knowing he’d be a head-to-toe itching mess over the next few days. If Ian could handle it, so could he. They lay about five feet away from each other, waiting for some sign the boat would be arriving soon.
“You know, twatwaffle, this is not how I expected my vacation to go. I’m adding a trip to Hawaii onto your bill to make up for it. Boomer and Kat loved the place for their honeymoon.”
Jase kept his voice just as low as the other man’s, as he used his binoculars to scan the west side of the house. “At this rate, I’ll be working for you for free for the next two years.”
“Two? Try three, at least. Team, give me a sit-rep.”
One by one the rest of the operatives scattered around the property checked in. Based on the round of cursing from Cain Foster, the former Secret Service agent was getting attacked by the mosquitoes as badly as Jase was. Of course, some good-natured ribbing followed, but it was cut short by Donovan. “Boss-man. Got a dark SUV pulling into the drive.”
Everyone shut up and waited for the update. McCabe was in the best position to see who was getting out of the vehicle when it parked near the garage. Seconds ticked by. “One hot looking female. No one else.”
Jake glanced at Ian. Before he had a chance to say anything though, Carter’s voice came over the air. “Fuck. It’s Cara.”
“What the fuck is that bitch doing here?”
“Not sure, Jordy, but if she needs an ass-kicking, she’s all yours.”
“Thanks, lover.”
“Just make sure she’s not on our side before you do,” Ian advised. “She did give us the address, and it doesn’t look like they were warned we were coming.”
“You’re ruining my fun, asswipe.”
There was a round of chuckles. Apparently when Jordyn was annoyed with the owner of the security firm, “asswipe” was her preferred moniker for him. At least someone put him in his place every now and then besides his wife.
About ten minutes later, another vehicle was announced. “Looks like the party’s getting bigger,” Donovan said. “Everyone stay on your toes.”
This time, McCabe reported, “Three males, all packing. Carter, is that your buddy from the other night? Looks like the photo I saw.”
“Yeah, that’s Chaplin. He’s mine. I’ve wanted an excuse to take that bastard down for years.”
“You can have him after we’ve got the women,” Ian told his friend. “Looks like the whole party’s here. Now we just need the guests of honor. Polo, any sign of them?”
“Negative.”
Jase and Ian stayed perfectly still as one of the roaming guards passed about fifteen feet in front of them. The assholes didn’t know they shouldn’t do a perimeter check the same way each time. They were too predictable, which would make the team’s job easier when it came to taking them down. There was still no sign of the women, although they’d figured out which room they were probably in. From about two miles off-shore, Nick had been able to see the middle of the rear, east side of the mansion. The way it curved inward had made it difficult to be seen from the wooded areas that thinned out as they approached the cliff overlooking the beach. He was able to zero in with binoculars and see two sets of windows on the third floor had been painted or had something black covering them. Either way, he couldn’t see in. Since those were the only darkened windows, there was a ninety-five percent chance that’s where the women were being kept. On islands like these, basements were pretty much unheard of, and there were no other structures on the property.
Back in Tampa, Nathan Cook had hacked into the compound’s security system. He was just waiting on Ian’s order to shut it down. Most of the team would take down the guards and work their way indoors. Chase Dixon, who’d flown down personally, and Jake were set up with sniper rifles and would disable the vehicles by flattening the tires and putting bullets into the engines. They’d also shoot any threats to the rest of the operatives or the women. Nick and DeAngelis were in charge of getting on the boat that would hopefully be arriving soon. To anyone watching, Jacob and an old Royal Marine buddy, who’d tagged along, were out there fishing. The two former Navy SEALs would covertly slip into the water and use the Sea-Doos to rapidly approach the target boat and incapacitate it along with any tangos on board. Dixon’s position, close to the beach, would enable him to cover the house and the boat in case a shot or two was needed to help out Nick and Marco.
On the opposite side of the mansion, Jordyn and Carter were waiting to enter through a door leading into what was labeled as a conservatory on the blueprints Cooke had located for them. The security room for the property was directly off of that and they had to assume someone was monitoring it. Meanwhile Cowboy, Skipper, and Dixon’s man, Jason Tanner, were about thirty yards to Jase’s left, closer to the beach—they’d be entering via the lanai. When the time came, the team, with the exception of the two snipers, would close in and rescue the women. If they had to kill a few assholes to do that, it was no skin off their backs. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t done it before.
“Hey, Boss-man, we’ve got a boat on the horizon. About three klicks out. They’re approaching with caution.”
The team leader responded to his younger brother, “Copy that, Junior.”
“Shit,” Donovan spat over Ian’s words. “What is this? Grand Central Station? We’ve got another freaking vehicle turning in. A white van.”
“How many fucking people do they have crashing this shindig? All right, team, let’s make sure we time this right. Reverend, let us know how many more guests we have to account for.”
Moments passed as they waited for the update. Finally, Donovan came over the comms again. “Fuck a duck. Boss, the shit’s about to hit the fan. Three male tangos have got Angie, Brie, and Amy.”
“What!”
As Ian started barking out low-volume curses and orders, Jase swung his binoculars to the front of the house, his heart pounding, praying he’d imagined the sniper telling him the women who meant the most to him were in danger. But his stomach sank as he focused in on those three bastards from the pool yesterday, each holding one of the women by the arm and practically dragging them toward the house. While Amy appeared terrified, with tears pouring down her cheeks, Angie and Brie looked ready to spit nails. While he knew neither woman was a shrinking violet and could handle themselves in most situations, a majority of those, if not all, didn’t include being held hostage at gunpoint. The one time Angie had been in a situation like that, it’d been Jase’s fault, and she’d been tied up when the bullets started flying. Instead of cowering, she’d managed to wriggle her way over to Ian’s goddaughter, who’d been more incapacitated and couldn’t make it to safety. Angie had covered the younger woman with her own body, willing to take a bullet for her. Thankfully, that hadn’t happened. The only ones shot that day had been Jase and a bunch of bad guys.
As for Brie, he’d seen her pull out the Louisville Slugger she kept behind the bar on more than one occasion and threaten a few drunken assholes with it before her bouncers managed to jump in. The woman didn’t seem to have any fear when it came to protecting others.
Angie stumbled, but Brie was right next to her and reached out to stabilize her before they were shoved forward again. Beside Jase, Ian growled, but kept his cool as Jase did his best to keep his. They had to. There was much more at stake now. Both of their futures were on the line.
Before the six reached the front door, it swung open and Jase had another surprise when a man stepped out and started yelling at the men and their hostages. “Fuck, Sawyer, that’s Felipe Gonzales, one of the lieutenants from the New Orleans cartel that got away.”
> After his alleged death, Carter and Ian had kept him informed about who had been rounded up on both sides of the law for their involvement in the lucrative drug trade and the murder of the agent Jase had replaced. Gonzales was one of two men who’d worked under Manny Melendez, the head of the NOLA arm of the cartel, who’d been killed in a raid, and had escaped arrest and prosecution. They’d suspected he’d fled the country, and his presence here confirmed it. If Gonzales saw Jase, he would undoubtedly recognize him. And if he slipped away, the cartel would know Jase was alive and stop at nothing to find him. He’d infiltrated their ranks and been instrumental in bringing the law down on their heads, and they didn’t forgive nor forget something like that.
“This shit just keeps getting better and better,” Ian grumbled. “Nick, Polo, that boat cannot leave here or make any distress calls. If you can, keep one or two of the bastards alive. Understood?”
Jase knew exactly what Ian hadn’t said. It was unknown if anyone inside knew exactly where the boat would be bringing the women after it left here, the men on board would need to be interrogated. Since Trident was under contract with the FBI investigating the white slavery operation going on in the North, Central, and South America, along with the Caribbean, it was assumed they would be backed in detaining the men. Hopefully, it would result in severing another head of the snake serving Emmanuel Diaz, who was the current leader of the Colombian cartel, which also delved into drug and arms dealing.
“Copy that,” his brother answered, the tension evident in his voice. With his pregnant sister-in-law in danger, it was expected.
“Cookie, you there?”
“Waiting for the word to shut down the systems, Boss-man,” the geek chimed in from Tampa.
“Shades, you ready to jam the cell frequencies?”
“Affirm,” Foster responded. One of the toys they’d brought along would prevent any cell phone calls from being made. The landlines would be taken out of the equation too when Cook disabled the security system. Hopefully, it would be a few minutes before those inside knew something was wrong.
“Good. All right, twatwaffle. Cover your ugly mug and let’s get our women back.”
When Angie’s foot got caught on the corner of one of the pavers that created a pathway from the driveway to the front door of the huge home, she stumbled and Brie automatically reached out and grabbed her arm, preventing her from falling. The woman flashed her a grateful but grim smile. As they approached the two front steps, the door swung open and a pissed off Hispanic man stormed out. His English was perfect and sounded like he’d lived in the southern United States for a good portion of his life. “Who the fuck are these three? You were supposed to bring one more! That’s it! Don’t even fucking tell me they all know each other. One bitch disappearing can be a runaway or a worthless whore who’ll be forgotten after a month or two. But three of them? Shit! You’re idiots. If you fucked up this operation, I’ll toss your bodies to the sharks.”
Greg propelled Brie then Amy toward the open door. “Didn’t have a fucking choice. The other option was to shoot ʼem and dump ʼem somewhere. At least this way, you’ll make some money off them.”
The Hispanic glared at the women. “Not much. Too damn old. And what the fuck? Is this one knocked up? Shit!” He pushed Angie into the foyer. “Fucking puta. Put them with the rest. The boat’ll be here in a few minutes. Once we’re done, I want your asses off this island. If I decide to use you again, I’ll contact you. Until then, I don’t want to hear or see you. Got it?”
“As long as we get paid for the merchandise.”
Brie snorted as she gave Greg the middle finger. “Fuck you, asshole. We’re not ‘merchandise.’”
“Shut up, bitch, and get upstairs.” He gestured with his gun. “You’re expendable as long as we’ve got Amy here. We needed one more whore in her twenties or teens, and she fits the bill. I’ve got no problem shooting you if you cause problems.”
Angie looped her arm around Brie’s and tugged her toward the stairs with a squeeze to her wrist. Brie knew what she was silently telling her. Stay calm. Don’t do anything to set them off. The right time will come. It was easy to guess these were the same people who’d taken Nadine. And if that was the case, hopefully this was the house Jase, Ian, and the rest of them had surrounded while waiting for the right moment to strike—if that woman, Cara, had told Carter the truth. If and when that happened, Brie and the other women had to be ready to do what they could to help save themselves. Wrapping her arm around Amy’s waist, she put the younger woman in front of her. She was shaking like a leaf and would be of no help if she became hysterical, which she seemed to be on the verge of.
The trio climbed the stairs to the third floor, with Greg and Brandon behind them. Another cruel-looking man stood at the top, with a black assault rifle strapped across his torso. He didn’t say a word, but a curt nod of his head to the right told the women which direction they should go. Halfway down the hall, another armed man was stationed outside a door. Brie prayed Nadine was in there. If she wasn’t, God only knew where her sister was.
As they approached, the man unlocked the door and swung it open. Brie let Angie and Amy go first.
“Amy! Brie! Oh my God! What are you doing here?”
Nadine jumped up from the cot she’d been lying on and ran into Amy’s arms then grabbed Brie and pulled her into the embrace as well. She began to cry and blubbered to the point Brie couldn’t understand her, but it didn’t matter—Nadine was alive and in her arms.
She joined her sister in crying, holding her close as the door slammed shut again behind her. “Thank God you’re alive, Nadine! Oh, thank God. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No, no, they haven’t hurt us. In fact, they seem to want us healthy. They’ve been feeding us.”
It was a few moments before Brie pulled back and glanced around the room as she got herself together. There will be time for a reunion later—she hoped. At that moment, they had to concentrate on getting out of there. Four other young women were scattered about, eyeing the newcomers warily as Angie inspected the blacked-out windows.
“There’s no way out,” one of the women told her. “We’ve tried. They’re nailed shut. Besides, we’re on the third floor. It’s not like we can jump.”
Angie turned back around and continued to take inventory as she rubbed her swollen belly. “Okay, then we’ll have to be ready for when they move us from this room. They said a boat is going to be here soon, which is probably how they’re planning on getting all of us off the island.”
“But they have guns,” said a scared-looking blonde in her late teens or early twenties. “If we try to escape, they’ll shoot us.”
Stepping further into the room, Brie shook her head. “I don’t think so. The only ones who are in danger of being shot are Angie and me since we’re older. The rest of you are worth big money to them, apparently. But we should have something working in our favor.” She didn’t want to announce the fact they hopefully had a group of trained mercenaries ready to swoop in, just in case they were at the wrong house. She also didn’t want to warn anyone who might be listening to them through the door or walls.
Brie joined Angie in inventorying the contents of the room and attached bath. Their purses had been left in the van between the two front seats where Brandon had tossed them. After coming up empty in the bathroom, Brie dropped to the floor and looked under one of the cots. Nothing. Damn it.
Before she had a chance to check under the other cots, the door swung open again. The two upstairs guards pointed their weapons at the women, then gestured at the hallway beyond the open door. “Let’s go,” said the one who’d been standing outside the room. “Downstairs. Your ride’s here,” he added with a smirk.
When no one took a step forward—they were too afraid—the other man barked, “Move! Now!”
As terrified as she was, Brie refused to let them see it and lifted her chin in defiance. She grabbed Nadine and Amy by their arms and got them heading towar
d the door. “Do what he says. It’s okay.” God, she hoped it was going to be okay. Please, Jase. Please be out there ready to save us. I love you.
The rest of the women shuffled toward the door behind Angie, who took the lead from Nadine and Amy. Brie pulled up the rear. There were tears and sobs from some of the women as they were herded down the stairs and into a large living room where several men and one woman were waiting. More guns were visible in their hands or on their hips. The men were eyeing them lecherously or callously, but it was the lone, smirking woman who caught Brie’s attention. Oh, shit! It was the Domme from Perdition—Carol or Cara. Whatever her name was, it didn’t matter. What did matter was she’d probably given Carter a different address to throw them all off track. That meant the cavalry didn’t have this place surrounded, ready to swoop in and save the day. Brie’s heart sank. Shit. Shit. Shit. They were going to have to do something to save themselves because any other alternative was unacceptable.
C
HAPTER 19
H is jaw was clenched so tightly, Jase was surprised he hadn’t cracked any teeth yet. The “waiting for the right moment” to attack was driving him nuts. Beside him, Ian was just as livid—in addition to the man’s wife, his unborn child was in danger. Luckily they were highly trained, or this mission would have been a cluster fuck of monumental proportions if they’d run in as soon as they’d seen the hostages. It was best if they followed the rules of engagement and took the tangos by surprise.
Salvaging His Soul: Trident Security Book 8 Page 19
