Locked and Loaded

by Alexis Grant

  From Anthony’s vantage point, flattened on the ground beneath a partially raised pallet, he could see that they’d forced Roberto into a van. There was only one group in the equation that had enough reason to do this: Guzman’s men.

  Agent Alvarez covered him as he called in the van tags, yelling over the din. They had to follow the van and not apprehend it.

  “Follow the van, tags Victor, Bravo, Charlie, Alpha three eight one five!”

  “Get out of there, Captain!”

  A spray of machine-gun shells opened up cement bags and splintered building supplies over their heads. Grabbing Alvarez by the back of his suit, Anthony yanked him to safety, yelling as they ran, “Go, go, go, go!”

  The moment they rounded the back of the building, Anthony gave the order, “Send in Apaches hot!” Then he began running with Alvarez into the network of buildings.

  The concussion from the blast threw them forward on their faces. In the distance, the sound of helicopter blades beat a deadly tempo in the air. Both men covered their heads as the intense heat from two hundred yards away washed over their skins. But there was no time for a full recovery.

  Davis pulled Alvarez to his feet and they ran deeper into the warehouses, coming out on the other side of a preplanned escape route building where Captain Davis’s unit was waiting.

  “Nothing’s coming out of that warehouse alive, not even cockroaches, sir. All product trucks are destroyed.”

  “Good work, Lieutenant Hayes. This is Special Agent Michael Alvarez. Our man on the inside.”

  “You guys don’t bullshit with the firepower,” Alvarez said, looking around the camouflaged team and then at the billowing inferno behind them. “Our evidence just went up in smoke, but I guess that’s all right, because other than Roberto Salazar, you just wiped out his inner circle. Hector Salazar may be hanging by a thread in a hospital or dead by now.”

  “What’s the word on Special Agent Sage Wagner?” Anthony’s nerves stretched and popped as he looked at Alvarez and then his men.

  “I cannot confirm,” Lieutenant Hayes said, glancing at Lieutenant Butcher. “Our post was here, at the docks, and trailing Assad at the casino. DEA had the Salazar compound, where Special Agent Wagner was located.”

  Anthony felt the muscle in his jaw pulse as Alvarez called in to his team. While waiting, he kept drilling his men for critical mission information.

  “The docks are secure?”

  “Affirmative, Captain,” Lieutenant Hayes said quickly. “The freighter was detained, two Kazakhstan nationals and three Colombians were taken into custody, along with a shipment of rocket-propelled grenade launchers, crates of AK-47s, Kevlar vests, C4—we have a full inventory report of what we confiscated. When we opened up the outer crates, all of it had stamps on it from Fort Shevchenko.”

  “Assad?”

  Lieutenant Butcher stepped up. “Our units headed them off at the main highway, sir. They’re in our custody and the money is, too.”

  “Hold them and keep the wire transfer lines open at the casino. Before you do anything, I want to talk to Intelligence about this shipment at the docks. What you confiscated does sound like five or even ten million dollars’ worth of equipment. Something bigger is coming into Canada, either that or something more expensive.”

  “We lost her,” Alvarez suddenly announced.

  Anthony spun on Alvarez and gripped him by his lapels. “What do you mean you lost her?”

  Alvarez placed an easy palm on Anthony’s chest, forcing him to release his hold on his jacket, while the bewildered men in his unit cast confused glances between them. Anthony ran his palms down his face.

  “Talk to me, Mike,” Anthony said, beginning to pace.

  “Something blew up at the house. You and I both saw from the video on Hector’s phone that her cover was blown. Our agents tailed her out into the Mardi Gras celebrations in the streets. Two guards from the house were on her; we got one and an unknown shooter got the other one. We think it was Colombians. Same mercenaries that strafed the truck bays and took Roberto just now. They hit one of our agents, who was thankfully wearing a vest … Wagner stayed with him and called in man down, but was forced from her position by multiple shooters in hot pursuit. We found her Glock nine-millimeter about two blocks from the Hotel Monteleone, where she must have been going for cover. That was the last known location when our street team lost her.”

  “Put a bird up—pull out one of the portables from a truck, Lieutenant.”

  “But, sir, our mission is—”

  “Do it now!” Anthony shouted. “I’m aware of our mission. Special Agent Wagner has insight to the Canada connection,” he added, embellishing the scenario to get his men to move.

  Boots hit the ground as men peeled out of Jeeps to head toward a parked eighteen-wheeler that contained a concealed chopper. Lieutenant Butcher threw Anthony a vest, which he caught with one hand, then tossed back.

  “I’m going in light, just need artillery, grenades, and a sniper rifle.”

  His men nodded.

  “We’re going to get her back,” Alvarez said. “Wherever they took Roberto is when you’ll find her. It’s the Colombian way to show a man his sins before executing him … at least at that level. They know his fiancée was DEA now. That’s gonna call for a brief review before they torture him.”

  Anthony looked at Agent Alvarez hard. “Yes … and how do you rub a man’s nose in his own stupidity—you torture what he loved if front of him. Even after the betrayal, you desecrate it while he watches helplessly.”

  * * *

  She woke up tied to a chair in an abandoned building. Mosquitoes feasted on her through the open windows. Moonlight showed nothing around the small building but junglelike flora. A tree actually grew up from under the house, through the floor, and up and out of the roof. Something skittered by in the corner. The stench of mold and mildew filled her nostrils. Feral animals made the tall grass rustle. Wild pigs and river rats, scrawny dogs and pathetic cats made their home here. As the haze left her mind, the lower Ninth Ward snapped into focus. Like a war-torn land, there were blocks and blocks of uninhabited houses. Her screams would go unheard and her body was unlikely to be found for days … months … years … if at all, once the animals had their way.

  Struggling against her bindings, she tried to no avail to break off the wood or use it to saw against the ties. But all she managed to do was make the bindings cut deeper into her wrists.

  The sound of a vehicle approaching, first one then another, stilled her. A door opened and she could tell it was a van of some sort because of the way the metal made a sliding sound before it slammed shut again. Multiple footfalls hit rotten wood steps, and the rickety door busted off its hinges. Then another door opened, and it had a different sound, like the vacuum-sealed closure of a very expensive sedan. A pair of slow, heavy footfalls followed that, along with the slight scent of an aromatic cigar.

  Through the receding drug haze, Sage clung to every impression she could, then suddenly, a blinding light shined on her. A body was shoved forward and the light moved from her to Roberto. Men surrounded them as she looked from him to the lights. An older man whose face she could not fully see stood in the shadows smoking a cigar.

  “I am so disappointed, Roberto,” the old man murmured. “You made me come down from my meetings in Washington, DC, to have this distasteful conversation.”

  Roberto sprang forward and grabbed her by the throat, toppling the chair as he strangled her.

  “How could you do this to me?” he shouted. “You betrayed me! Hector—”

  “Betrayed you and is dead,” the old man said coolly as three guards wrested Roberto’s hands from around Sage’s throat and lifted his body away from her.

  Gasping and coughing and sucking in dust from the floor, she tried to keep her face away from Roberto’s flailing feet. And to think she’d momentarily felt sorry for the bastard.

  “Cut her loose,” the old man said. “I should enjoy this match. R
oberto has caught the tiger by the tail.” He took a long drag on his cigar and blew it toward Roberto. “Your problems began with you not honoring me and betraying me … and just as the son betrays the father, so the brother betrays the elder brother, and the wife betrays the husband. If you build your house on lies, Roberto, the sin will follow you … you should go to church to learn these things. It is God’s way.”

  “My brother is dead,” he said in an angry whisper, glaring at Sage as she was released from the chair and stood slowly. “She killed him. He bled to death on the way to the hospital.”

  “But not before he called me, Roberto—weeks ago.”

  Strangled silence made the Adam’s apple bob in Roberto’s throat as he strained against the hold of Guzman’s men.

  “Yes. Believe it. Hector had let me know about this long before we learned of her betrayal … which was really the hand of God. You see, I know you, my son. You don’t trust unless you verify. I knew you would have her car fitted with a camera, maybe her room, anywhere she might be. So we swept the car and brought your little video back and it produced additional gold.”

  Roberto’s eyes held Sage’s as contempt glimmered in them. “Why?”

  “Because you killed my family,” she said flatly, and then spit on the ground. “You’ll never know which ones or remember … how many street corners did you spray on your way up? How many innocent people who weren’t even involved in your drug trade bled to death on their way to the hospital? How many old women, little kids, young boys … Do you even fucking remember!”

  “I didn’t know those people, and in every war there is collateral damage. I didn’t know them, Camille … but you knew me and I knew you. That is different. That is different!”

  “Is it?” she said, staring at him as the painful memories flooded back. “Then consider Hector and your business and all of your dreams collateral damage.”

  “You bitch,” Roberto replied through his teeth. “I swear, Camille, you will die before I do this night and then we can both meet in hell.”

  “Camille isn’t even my name,” she added in a deadly whisper, leaning toward him and straining against the guards’ hold. “You didn’t know jack shit, and you most assuredly never knew me. Ever … and, baby, we already met in hell—each time I tolerated your disgusting touch.”

  “Let her go,” Guzman instructed with a casual wave of his hand, smiling.

  The moment the guards released her, she rushed Roberto and punched him in his face hard. “I know I’m going to die tonight, but just let me kick this motherfucker’s ass before I do.” She stepped back from Roberto and stared at Guzman. “What do you care? He betrayed you, whatever shipment we took down only weakens him, not you—he was coming for you anyway.”

  “Hell hath no fury…” Guzman said, shaking his head. He looked at his men. “What do you think? She is very philosophical, and I like how she thinks. If I thought I could actually convert her to our way of thinking, she would be very useful to our operations on the inside of where she is.”

  “I’d say let the bastard go and see what she can do,” one guard said with an evil grin.

  Guzman walked up to Roberto and spat in his face. “You’ve broken my heart. Your brother is dead and a betrayer. Your money is gone, and your product is burning on the loading docks. Your home in Miami is destroyed, along with all your toys and men who were loyal to you. And now, your woman is DEA and about to fight you in hand-to-hand combat while this house burns to the ground with you both in it … and tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. Fitting.” Guzman sighed. “Tell me, Roberto. Was it worth it?”

  A gunman left the room and ran outside. Immediately Sage smelled the gasoline as he walked around the perimeter of the house. In the distance, chopper blades and sirens disturbed the crickets’ songs. When he returned, the others let Roberto go.

  For a moment he just stood and looked at her and then suddenly rushed her. She sidestepped him and landed a hard roundhouse kick to his back, much to the delight of the men gathered by the front door. He fell against the small tree and then pushed off from it. That had only enraged him and made him come at her again, this time quickly enough to almost grab hold of her throat again. But anticipating his moves, she reached up and through the small space between them, broke his hold, and made sure her elbow connected hard with his jaw.

  Cheering rang out as though a prizefight or a death cage match was underway. But when Roberto fell against one of the guards, he came away with a gun. One shot blew Guzman back. The old man’s lit cigar flew over his head and down the steps, igniting the fuel that ripped around the building in a ring of fire. Guards panicked, more concerned about their own safety than seeking retribution for a dead man. Roberto immediately turned the gun on her. And just as quickly a sniper’s bullet put him down hard, then in rapidfire succession took out the guards who were trying to flee.

  But billowing smoke and heat from fast-moving flames that ate up soft wood and dry brush now closed in around her. Windows and doors were impassable as the inferno raged.

  In the chaos, a booming, familiar voice called her name from above, as she looked up the tree that was growing up through the floor and out of the storm-damaged roof. The sound of helicopter blades bore down on her, and she quickly pulled her body up the rough foliage and through the small hole in the tarp. She reached up as instructed and a strong hand grabbed hers, then another hand grabbed her flailing arm, as the craft pulled up and out of the line of smoke.

  Her body collided with metal and sinew as the chopper moved away from the scene. Jeeps swarmed the street and the burning house below. Sage closed her eyes and held on tightly to the only one who’d ever come back for her.

  CHAPTER 16

  He held her tightly and rocked her as the chopper headed toward NAS, unable to keep up the ruse, not caring that the truth was being witnessed by the small band of brothers who’d flown in and out of hell with him more times than he could count. Lieutenant Hayes simply pounded Lieutenant Butcher’s fist with a nod and voiced the single victorious phrase of their brotherhood—Hoooah.

  If the troubles of the world could just go away now, he would have been a very happy man. But nothing was that simple. There was still a very expensive shipment of some unknown amounts of weaponry, which would be used against American citizens, heading into Canada, based on Sage’s DEA intel and what Central Intelligence could piece together from that. Although they’d rounded up his band of merry men, Aalam Bashir, the man Assad reported to, was still at large. Yet it was a solid hunch that he’d be the one to make the weapons ID to initiate the transfer.

  The moment they touched down, they all boarded waiting Jeeps and headed to the main admin building. Colonel Mitchell met them, along with Hank Wilson, his core staff, Agent Alvarez, and several key members of Central Intelligence.

  Time was of the essence. Everyone who had touched the intersecting cases in any way was now needed to add any intel they could to the joint task force. As they debarked the vehicles and entered the building, all eyes went to Special Agent Sage Wagner and Captain Anthony Davis.

  Hank Wilson began clapping long and slow and hard, his meaty palms striking a cadence that contained both respect and clearly personal joy that she was brought home alive. Colonel Mitchell faced Captain Davis, and in a rare display, saluted him indoors.

  “Captain, I know this isn’t protocol, but I am damned glad to see you.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Anthony responded, respectfully. “Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my men.”

  “Lieutenants,” the colonel said crisply with pride, turning to Anthony’s men. “Job well done, but we still have one piece of the puzzle to fit together.”

  “Sir, if I might interrupt, I also wouldn’t be here and our mission would not have been as successful as it has been so far without the sacrifice and dead-accurate intel provided by Special Agents Sage Wagner and Michael Alvarez. Their DEA team worked seamlessly with ours.”

  Colonel Mitchell nodded. “We
thank you, as does America,” he said, looking at both Sage and Mike Alvarez. Then he allowed his gaze to settle on Hank Wilson. “Fine team. I wish all branches of our government worked together the way we did here. Then we could solve a lot of problems. But that’s an issue for another day. Right now we still have a piece of the puzzle missing, and I don’t want it floating around out there somewhere.”

  “Thank you,” Hank said. “But you’re right, Colonel. We’re not out of the woods yet.” He looked at both of his agents and Sage nodded.

  “Guzman said he’d come down from DC just to watch my and Roberto’s execution. They are getting really bold and have to have something big planned if a guy like Guzman, at his level, wanted to see me and Roberto burn,” Sage said, dragging her fingers through her hair as she stared at the map. “That part just doesn’t fit. Pics sent to Colombia should have sufficed.”

  “Guzman, himself, came to oversee an execution?” Hank looked around the room bewildered.

  “He was definitely in the body count Captain Davis and his men left back at that house in the Ninth Ward when they extracted me, sir,” Sage said, and then glanced at Anthony.

  “Do you know how high a target of value he was for drug enforcement?” Hank said, bewildered. He looked at the colonel. “He’s got assets valued at over a hundred billion and is virtually untouchable—or was.”

  “This guy Guzman was formerly an unknown to DELTA, but recently came on our radar—not due to his drug affiliations, but because Central Intelligence got photos of him having lunch yesterday with our old Russian nemesis-turned-policy-lobbyist, Dimitri Andropov,” Colonel Mitchell said, pushing a folder across the desk at Hank Wilson.

  “We’ve suspected Dimitri of arms dealing for years, but could never prove it,” the colonel said in a frustrated tone. “He comes from the old days of the cold war—was one of their generals and also in the intelligence community for that side. Pure KGB. You don’t legislate that out of a man. But unless we have hard evidence, we can’t keep him out of our backyard. That’s the law these days.”