by Alexis Grant
Anthony nodded. “Understood, sir. We’ll do what we can to not flush your traps, but we also have a job to do. We cannot allow a weapons deal to go down that will endanger our troops or harm American and ally citizens.”
Sage lifted her chin, telegraphing a nonverbal thanks toward Hank for his support, but still clearly wary of the new variable in the game.
“Fine, Captain,” she said, glaring at him. “Here’s where the trip wires are. I want you to know, so you guys don’t accidentally blow anything we’re working on. Salazar has gone behind Guzman’s back for a silent power grab. If Salazar gets pure product in from Assad at half the cost he has to pay Guzman for it, he’s pulled a quiet, bloodless, financial coup—eliminating the middleman.”
“And Assad needs cash fast to keep his terror cells in weapons all around the globe, so he’s willing to sell cheap,” Anthony said with a nod. “We’ve been trying to broker a buy as Colombians to get one of us in close to Assad, hence my alias—Juan Morales. But we never got in close enough to make the deal click. Then we found out about the connection between Assad and Salazar, and pursued it here. And you guys decided to bum-rush your way into Salazar’s compound rather than finesse it.” Sage shook her head and folded her arms again. “You could have blown the entire operation. Just like Intelligence does, we have a lot invested in this, Captain. A helluva lot.”
“Then get me in your way so we can get a drop on when the shipment is going to go down—and so we can hit them before they even know what’s happening,” Anthony said, folding his arms. This woman disturbed him, down to the marrow of his bones. She was gorgeous, deadly, talented, and patriotic … an odd combination he’d never seen before now.
She shook her head, challenging him. “Not possible. Just—”
“We’ve got a man on the inside up in the Bronx, who’s currently one of Salazar’s top distributors,” Dan Jennings offered. “Our guy, Agent Alvarez, has been working undercover doing the buys from Salazar. Maybe we can have him vouch for Captain Davis?” Dan glanced at Sage and then Hank before hurriedly pressing his point when her eyes narrowed. “Salazar is going to have to do a quick, surgical strike to turn over his new product and to get cash in for it so he can make his moves before Guzman catches on. Salazar’s got a strong connection in New York who can get it through Canada. But if we take his guy out, he’ll need help. Then all we’d have to do is get our embedded guy to say that Captain Davis, aka Juan Morales, is his new righthand man, and he’s got the ties to get it up and out. It’ll be one of our strongest plants yet.”
If looks could kill, the glare Sage Wagner shot in Special Agent Dan Jennings’s direction would have left him DOA. Anthony suppressed a smile.
“Whaduya say, Wagner?” Hank hedged. “If Salazar is making a huge buy from Assad, he’s definitely gotta move the weight fast and get it shuffled into his pipeline before Guzman gets wise to it—especially if the cut quality goes up substantially. That means he’s got to rally the distributors and get them to push it through their networks to flip it quick. We could use the extra boots on the ground to take out the distributors at the same time we bring down Salazar and his men.”
“The only extraction we want is Assad and his men for future intel, and we have no problem doing what is necessary.” Anthony said, staring at Sage.
“Do you really want to put these bastards behind bars?” Dan said, his voice straining with emotion. “Or do you want to have done what we can’t really do under law enforcement … if DELTA Force is handling a terrorist threat, it’s an act of war, right?”
Hank smoothed a palm over his bald spot as he looked between Sage, Dan, and Anthony. “Dan’s got a point, Sage. How many times have you seen these kinds of guys wiggle out of sentencing or run their empires from behind bars? Besides, I wouldn’t mind having an extra pair of eyes backing up my star agent while all this crap goes down … especially some guy from DELTA Force. I want you walking outta there in one piece, Wagner. It was bad enough that we were dealing with cutthroat Colombians. Now that we’ve got the Taliban and possibly Al Qaeda in the mix … sheesh.”
Sage released a huff of frustration and kept a penetrating gaze on Anthony. “Fine. Whatever. But when this all goes down, I don’t want to hear about a State Department deal or some other crap that allows Salazar and his brother to walk. I want the whole thing toppled and those two rat bastards either in prison or on a slab with tags on their toes—we clear?”
“Affirmative.” Anthony lifted his chin, understanding her indignation about his involvement, even if he didn’t particularly like it. “I think you saw that I was prepared to do the latter before the former.”
Sage paused. “I’ll give you that, Captain. Gotta admit that I like your style. C4 … not bad for a day’s work; just make sure I’m not around when you detonate.”
Her wry comment made him smile a slight half-smile, despite his resolve not to.
“Roger that, ma’am. But an extra guy to watch your six and to lock and load on a target is never viewed as a bad thing in my unit. I suspect the same would be true in yours, if we’d met under better circumstances.”
“All right. Fine,” Sage said in a tight, resigned tone. “We have a plan … you’ll work your way in as a distributor via Special Agent Michael Alvarez’s recommendation—you’re his cousin. Maybe you’ll be positioned to buy the lion’s share of the product or something, so we can keep tabs on all that product, which we don’t want out on the open market once this sting goes down. That will let you know when phase two is about to happen—phase one is the shipment; phase two is when Roberto has to flip it. Tell your commander, or whatever your reporting structure is, that you’re going to have to have cash to flash. Suitcases of it in the millions. Not to mention some expensive clothes and a decent car, not too over the top since you’re lower level, but enough to say you’re doing all right.”
Now he had a problem. He’d have to get word back, work through channels fast, and be ready. This was way beyond their standard operating protocols and fell more under the purview of law enforcement agencies or Intelligence. But as he stared at Special Agent Wagner, somehow going outside the dotted lines seemed worth it.
“We can do that for him,” Dan said in a hesitant tone. “Alvarez can hook him up—we’ve got a lot of stash up in New York.”
“Whatever.” Just like that she abruptly turned away from him and looked at Dan hard. “Meanwhile, can a girl get a lift to South Beach? I’ve been gone long enough already.”
Dan hesitated. “Sure.”
Again, nervous glances passed between the two male DEA agents and Sage. It was clear that her boss didn’t want to discuss the matter of DELTA Force involvement on their case any further; it was a done deal, which he’d no doubt have to argue about on a solo drive with Sage Wagner all the way to South Beach. Special Agent Jennings obviously didn’t want to be alone in a vehicle with Special Agent Wagner to catch a ration of shit behind his helpful recommendations.
“I can do the drop-off,” Anthony finally said, breaking the strained silence in the room. Keeping his focus on Sage, he spoke to the group. “I want to get inside Salazar’s head. I need to understand the kinds of moves he might make so that we can anticipate what might transpire with him and Assad, to nail them both. Special Agent Wagner has the best psychological profile on one of my secondary targets. Since we’re going to have to work together, now seems like the best time to develop as much of a rhythm as we can before we have to work for periods under a communication blackout.”
All eyes were on Anthony now. He hoped that Sage would accept the compliment he’d lobbed in her direction as the best olive branch he could offer at the moment. Her boss gave him a slight nod and then glanced at Sage as though waiting on her okay.
She nodded. “Makes sense, but I need some cooperation, Captain. I know we each report up through different nonintersecting channels, but if we don’t communicate and keep each other informed, solo heroics could get one or both of us killed.”
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“I understand,” he said, fully respecting where she was coming from. She was right. One false move, one misstep in behavior, and covers could be blown, and lives lost.
“Good,” she said without ever losing eye contact with him. “Nice to know that this time you do.”
CHAPTER 3
“Twenty-one,” Roberto said, glancing down the table at his brother.
Hector closed his eyes and stood as a shapely blonde collected Roberto’s chips. “I’ve had enough games.”
“Then why don’t you go check on our clients and make sure they’re enjoying themselves?” Roberto allowed his palm to slide across the blonde’s ass. “I know I am … you should too.”
He stood and gave her several chips, putting the rest in Hector’s hand. “Stop sulking.”
The gift only seemed to make Hector’s expression darken, but he couldn’t worry about Hector’s little tantrum right now. His brother had been like that since they were children; always hated losing but never aggressively pursued doing otherwise. Right now he wasn’t going to let Hector piss him off. He’d been under enough stress.
“Want to go to your suite?” The blonde nuzzled his neck and then pulled back.
He smiled and put his arm around her waist and began walking. As they passed the VIP tables, he could see Assad and his men thoroughly engaged in the games. A dark thought slithered through him as he watched his brother head to the cashier’s booth, rather than do what he’d been told—entertain their guests. Hector was such a spoiled little bitch that sometimes he literally hated him.
But the weeks of pure focus and his momentary vexation with his brother were becoming unraveled as he stepped into the elevator and the blonde’s hand slid across his groin. For the first time in weeks he felt his desire stir as he thickened in her hand.
By the time they’d reached his top floor suite, he was ready for her. Glancing around the room to visually case it, he sat down on the sofa and pushed away the coffee table with his foot. She knew what to do. He didn’t have to say it.
With a smile she knelt down and unzipped his pants as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Gracias,” he murmured. “Swallow and watch the suit. I have to get back downstairs to a meeting soon.”
* * *
With the logistics and communication protocols discussion out of the way, Sage sat in the back of the unmarked black van staring at the clean barbered line at the nape of Captain Anthony Davis’s strong neck. As he’d driven, they’d traded safe words, hammered out rendezvous points, and she now knew her profile would be uploaded to Central Intelligence and Military Intelligence.
Everything was a shadowy silhouette as she peered through a pair of dark designer sunglasses. The windows of the van were almost totally blacked out and the windshield was glare-tinted, just like her life seemed to be. She could see out; no one could see in. She couldn’t remember when she hadn’t been on a mission to advance, to get closer to her objective, and somewhere along the way she’d forgotten to live.
Something about the man before her unsettled her in a way that was impossible to define. For all intents and purposes, he was her new partner—another short-lived event that she could only pray wouldn’t end in tragedy.
Who the hell was this guy, though? DELTA Force—the Universe obviously had jokes. But just as soon as her mind latched on to trying to figure out his backstory, she banished the temptation of curiosity from her mind.
She didn’t want to know anything about him, really. Once you got to know about people, you bonded with them, worried about them, and cared too deeply if they lived or died. It had taken everything within her to keep everybody on the team—especially Dan Jennings, who had a crush on her—working the research and remote intel side of the job. She liked it better going in solo and hated having to worry about other people.
It had been a no-brainer to push Dan away—not for personal reasons, but so the rookie didn’t get himself killed trying to be a hero, or get her killed by raising an eyebrow at the wrong place at the wrong time. She despised having to worry about a team member, and prior to Captain Davis’s inelegant entry into her case, she’d had a clean span of control within a hostile environment. Now she had to worry about Captain Davis, even though it was clear that he could handle himself—he could still get shot if Salazar got nervous. That was the last thing she needed on her conscience.
Usually Hank understood things like this, but there was no pressure like Pentagon pressure—so what options did her boss have to keep DELTA Force from usurping her team’s jurisdictional prerogative? None. However, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“So what did he do?”
Captain Davis’s question jarred her out of her thoughts.
“Roberto Salazar’s rap sheet of alleged activities—and I say alleged because we never caught the bastard redhanded in a way that we could make stick—is a story much longer than the drive to South Beach will take. Didn’t they fill you in before you went loading C4 under the man’s house?”
“They did, ma’am. But let me clarify the question. What did he do to you?”
Sage paused as Davis glanced up at his rearview mirror.
“He threatened my American way of life. Same thing all bad guys do.”
This time he turned and looked at her over his shoulder. “Not acceptable.”
“Not acceptable?” Sage just stared at the man. Who the hell did he think he was?
“Absolutely not, if we are going in as a team to bring down an extremely dangerous target of interest. We have to work as a unit, be able to shadow each other and anticipate each other’s moves when out of communication range or opportunity. That means I have to know what the stakes are for you.”
“Aren’t they obvious?” she said in a tight tone. “I’ve been working this case for a long time and have a lot invested in it. I want the Salazars put away and their empire of drug trafficking crippled—better yet, totally dismantled, if possible.”
“Still not acceptable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Captain?”
“I mean, what’s in it for you, personally?”
He waited. She didn’t have an immediate response to give him. She’d only had this level of conversation with Hank, someone she’d known for years and trusted. She didn’t know Captain Davis from a can of latex paint.
“All right,” she said, releasing a long, impatient breath. “I know your ass is on the line, Captain, and I won’t—”
“Both our asses are on the line, ma’am, if I may speak freely.”
Sage took off her sunglasses and leaned forward as he entered the highway ramp. “Listen you arrogant, sarcastic—”
“I didn’t mean that as a dig or a lewd reference. I am stating the facts and respect the hell out of what you’ve probably had to endure. But the fact is, if I step on your toes in there because I don’t understand what your true, off-the-record objective is, then as the newcomer to the unit I could screw up fast. I’m trying to avoid that while also following my mission as stated by my chain of command. I also need to know if you’re going to go rogue in there, and in an attempt to create your own brand of justice, do something on the fly that could put me and any other men in my unit that are on this mission at risk.”
Sage eased back and stared out the window, reliving the painful memories that had brought her to this point in her life. She slowly put her sunglasses back on. In context, it was a fair question … but it was ironic that she’d be rehashing her past with a man who had kidnapped and tried to kill her only hours earlier.
“When I was in high school, my mother was walking into the local corner grocery store with my little sister and brother. They were home from school that day because they were both sick … she had to pick up some cough medicine. That’s also why my grandmother wasn’t watching them at her apartment so my mother could go to work. Nobody wanted Nana to possibly catch the flu, given her age. Roberto Salazar and his brother, Hector, were working their way
up in the Guzman organization.”
She let out a weary breath after a long pause, glad that Captain Davis didn’t interrupt. “The Salazars were embroiled in a street turf battle and sprayed the corner where the Haitians were trying to sell. It wasn’t about my mother, my baby sister and younger brother, the old man at the bus stop, or the grocer’s son. It was just business. They all died. Everybody in the hood knew who did it and some even saw it. But no one would step forward to testify. I couldn’t blame them. Don’t snitch isn’t about loyalty; it’s about fear and knowing that no one can protect a poor person from the power of drug kingpins. Hell, they’ve seen presidents assassinated and police chiefs snuffed. So they figure, what chance do they have—what chance does their entire network of family and friends have? Silence is golden. But I couldn’t live with that sense of powerlessness.”
“I’m really sorry to hear about your family,” Davis said, after an awkward stretch of silence. Although his tone was professional, it contained an undercurrent of gentleness that she wished she hadn’t heard.
“Thanks … but that was a long time ago. I’m all grown up now and survived. So you don’t have to worry about me flipping out and blowing the man away in his sleep or anything crazy. Despite the circumstances, I am a trained professional.”
“With a distinguished record, Hank Wilson informed me. Much respect, Special Agent Wagner.” Davis nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. He paused as though trying to decide how to formulate the next question and then delivered it as though he were interviewing her for a Pentagon job. “When did you decide to go into law enforcement?”
“The day after I stopped crying and realized that nobody was going to testify or find the Salazars to lock them up.” Sage kept her gaze on the passing highway landscape, not actually seeing it as her family’s funeral flashed through her mind. “Figured if nobody from the outside could make a difference—at least, no one I’d ever seen in my old neighborhood had—then I’d get inside one day and fight them from the inside out.”
