First things first, he wanted to determine for certain whether or not this was Juarez. Judging by size and proximity, this room had the makings of what should be the master bedroom. He flipped back through his memory to the blueprints he’d studied on the car ride over and confirmed with himself that it indeed was.
Check.
The moans continued as Xander peeked inside the room through the small opening in the curtains. Whatever he was doing to her it certainly wasn’t hurting.
Hurt so good maybe.
The bedroom was large with cathedral ceilings and chock-full of gaudy, gold-framed paintings featuring what looked to be Mexican countryside. In the center of the room and on the side of a large bed, a naked man stood thrusting against a woman who was bent over, white-knuckle-clutching the sheets. The thrusts were to a constant beat and with each moan came an opportunity to mask the sound of sliding open the—fortunately for Xander—unlocked door.
Keep up the good work, my man. This is too easy.
Juarez’s Date with Destiny
Xander stepped inside the bedroom and reached inside his blazer, pulling one of his pistols. With the couple’s backs turned to him it would be easy to shoot them both without alarming anyone else who might be lurking around the mansion. However, contrary to his discussion with Sam in the car, Xander didn't kill innocent people. Sam always found this notion absurd. Her thought process was, how many innocent people hang out in a drug lord's mansion? She had been on many similar cases in her time with MI6. Though Xander understood her thinking, this wasn't MI6. This wasn't the CIA or the FBI, either. This was his show, and there was only one target on this mission. He would risk his own life to make sure it stayed this way. The only exception to this rule was if someone was trying to kill him or someone else’s life was in danger. Even then he did his damnedest to avoid unnecessary casualties. This was one of Xander's few original laws when he decided this would be his life's work.
The naked man's pumping came to an abrupt stop when he was clearly finished pleasuring himself. Xander moved closer as the man exhaustedly slumped over the woman, his body heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The soft yellow glow of the overhead light glistened over his sweat-drenched back and revealed a large tattoo covering the top of it from shoulder to shoulder. Xander noticed it looked like skulls intertwined with assault rifles as he drove the butt of his pistol into the back of the Mexican man's bald head. Now that he was so close, he knew for certain that it wasn't Juarez. This man was short, maybe five eight, and intel on Juarez was that he was closer to six feet. The girl turned in surprise at the sound the man’s skull made as it was being smashed, but in the same motion Xander kept her from seeing him by burying her head in the mattress with his elbow, stifling her from alerting the rest of the house. With the one arm pinning her down, he holstered his gun and shook the adjacent pillows out of their tan silk sheet cases. The first one covered her head and as gently as he could he tied the second pillowcase around her mouth as her naked body squirmed beneath him. She continued moaning, but the cloth in her mouth muffled the sounds. She also tried screaming, but even if she was heard it certainly wasn’t as loud or as alarming as the voluntary moans she’d been making just moments ago. He lowered the unconscious man to the floor, then used the sheets to tie the woman to one of the large cherry wood posts at the top corner of the bed. First her wrists, then her feet; she lay there looking like a human hammock. Xander checked his watch.
Seven minutes.
He repurposed the king-size comforter, removing it from the bed and tying it around the base of the stone railing out on the balcony, in the event there might be a need for a quick second-story exit. As he finished tightening the knot, through a gap in the stone balcony railing he noticed a light on in the room below him. It was easy to see because the window to that room was the size of a wall.
Noted.
On his way back through the bedroom he made use of a nearby belt to subdue the still unconscious naked man while constantly being accompanied by the soundtrack of the girl's muffled squeals. Now he could finally turn his attention to the rest of the house, and more importantly, to finding the potential hostages and killing Miguel Juarez. At the front wall of the bedroom was an oversize dark oak wood door that matched the crown molding that topped the walls of the bedroom. He noticed the light switch on the wall and turned it off to help gauge the strength of the light that was to greet him in the hallway. There wasn't much of a crack at the bottom of the closed door, so this yielded little information about what lay ahead on the other side. He tested the door with his ear. He could faintly hear the muffled sound of music emanating from a seemingly distant part of the house. This was good. Not only did it give him a direction, but it also provided cover for any noise he might mistakenly make. Un-holstering a pistol he reached for the horizontal brass door handle. Slow and steady he gently opened the door.
Six minutes.
The alarm went off in his head. One of the many things you learn being a navy SEAL is that internal clock. Not only did it keep the task on pace, but it also steadied his focus.
He found the hallway empty. The only light shined from the room below, and the music was much more clear now. It seemed to be coming from a common area like a living room or kitchen. The hallway was a balcony, lined with a wraparound wrought iron railing. At the wall it swirled around and down into a grand half-spiral staircase that ended in a beautiful foyer. He could see through the windows below that surrounded the giant oak front door that there were guards outside keeping watch.
Miguel is here.
A shot of adrenaline flooded his veins, practically floating him along the wall and down the stairs. At the bottom, Xander could hear the laughter of a man and a woman coming from the same room as the music. The man’s laugh seemed genuine, but he could tell the woman was nervous. He danced along the inside wall of the open foyer in the direction of those sounds. The floor below him was white marble with a large brown mosaic pattern in the middle of the room. A massive crystal chandelier dangled gracefully above it, and its light cascaded down on him, making it difficult for Xander to stay in the shadows. Along the way he noticed a door underneath the stairs he’d just descended. His stomach turned. He knew it was the basement door. What he didn’t know was just how horrible what he might find down there would be. He took a deep breath, walked over to the door, and tested the knob. Much to his surprise, it opened.
Five minutes.
Darkness met him at the top of the stairs, not a trace of light below, the only sounds came from the music and voices on the main floor. He tuned his mind to his hands and feet, and after he shut the door behind him, he began to feel his way down. The stairs were solid so he was able to move without sound. The smell of mold was thick and the walls felt like splintered two by fours. He came to a wall in front of him and with a turn to his right he continued to find stairs. Finally, he noticed a slight yellow glow from a point at the other end of the basement. He stopped for a moment, bent down, and peered under the ceiling from his spot on the stairs. There was definitely a light, but it was coming from a room around a corner through a break in the wall. The basement looked to be completely empty. The walls were a dark-colored brick and the floor seemed to be poured concrete. He tried to look to the other side, but instead of an open space, that side was all walled in.
Xander pulled out his phone and messaged Sam.
Sam, I need to know how many men are upstairs. Were you able to tap the cameras?
Sam responded, I told you, there is a special code that couldn’t be cracked, otherwise you would have had the feed from the beginning. If you are having a problem, abort. We will find another way to save the girls.
Find out how many men there are.
I have an idea, but I’ll need a moment.
Xander knew Sam would think of something. He put his phone away and descended the last of the stairs. The light was strong enough now for him to be able to see, but there just wasn’t anything to see. However
, he heard something shuffling around in the direction of the light. He reached for his pistol and moved slowly toward the back wall of the basement. There was a break in the wall just large enough for him to walk through. Beyond it, the light became brighter the closer he moved toward it. He heard more shuffling.
Xander approached the open doorway. The light shined from the right, but the left side was completely dark. There was only about eight feet until there was another wall. Just as he was about to turn the corner, a horrible smell sparked his senses. It was unmistakable to Xander. He had smelled the rotting dead many times in the Middle East. There was nothing on earth like it. He readied his gun and prepared his mind for the worst.
Four minutes.
Xander spun around the break in the wall and pointed his gun in front of him. A sickness came over him. His eyes found a cell, eight by eight feet; the back wall was almost completely covered by a pile of dead girls.
A pile of dead girls.
The smell overwhelmed him. Emotion attempted to overcome him, but Xander didn’t have time for emotion. He took a large mouth breath to avoid the smell and swallowed the burning saliva that flooded his jowls. Behind the iron bars, tied to a chair in front of the wall of bodies, was a blonde-haired girl who looked to be fourteen or so, her face full of fright and her body devoid of food. In front of her there were three more emaciated girls, hands tied, lying facedown, looking directly up at him. They all squealed in fear, eyes wide at the sight of Xander’s gun. He put it away and approached the bars, his heart broken.
“It’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of here. Is there anyone else down here?” he asked. His voice tried to catch, but he wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t allow these poor girls to see even a hint of anything but strength and resolve in him.
The blonde girl tied to the chair looked up into his eyes, holding them, until suddenly her eyes darted up over his shoulder and she feverishly began to squeal. Xander instinctively ducked down in a twisting motion as he swept his leg out and around his body. Just as he heard a loud clang above him, where his head had been before he ducked, Xander’s foot connected with a leg and swept someone off his feet. The man grunted as he lost balance and crashed onto his back on the concrete floor. The girls screamed through their gagged mouths from behind Xander as he pounced on top of the large Mexican man. As he straddled him, he pulled back his right arm and dropped a skull-cracking elbow down on the man’s head, knocking him unconscious. Xander stood and dragged the body into the other room. The girls had seen enough atrocities, so he spared them the sight of the silenced bullet he put in the temple of the man’s head. He searched the man’s pockets and found a set of keys. He stepped over the pooling blood, walked back to the girls, unlocked the cell, and helped them to their feet. They were almost too weak to stand. They wobbled like newborn foals. He untied the girl from the chair, and before he could remove her gag she threw her arms around him and squeezed him as tight as she could. Once again, emotion crawled up his spine, but he couldn’t let it take hold of him. Not for a second. Not if he wanted to get these girls out of this hellhole alive.
Xander returned the hug and patted her softly on the back. He took the time to meet each one of their trembling pairs of eyes, making sure they understood him—believed him. “It’s okay, girls. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”
He managed to pry the girl’s arms from his neck and put his finger to his mouth as he untied her gag. She nodded, understanding that it wasn’t over yet. She began to sob uncontrollably and so did the others.
Once more, Xander focused deep into their watery eyes.
“Listen, I’m gonna need you girls to be brave. Can you do that for me? I have to go back upstairs and make sure all the bad men are gone, okay? Can you be strong for me?” This was especially hard for Xander. When he looked at them, he saw his young niece, Kaley, in their eyes.
Through her heavy tears the little blonde girl spoke in a frightened whisper. “No, please! Don’t leave us down here!”
This was tough.
“I know you’re scared. It’s okay. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.” Xander walked them out away from the decaying bodies and into the room with the dead man. “Wait here.” He dragged the dead man into the cell where the girls had been held, then rejoined them in the now empty room. “Listen to me now. I’m gonna need you to be brave. Can you girls do that for me?”
Through their sniffles of fear and elation, they nodded their heads. They could see the kindness in Xander’s eyes. They could hear the steadiness in his voice. They knew he could help them. Hope returned to their faces.
“I know you can be. You’ve been so strong this entire time. I have to go now, but I promise you…Look at me. I promise you, the police will be here for you within a half an hour. Can you all stay hidden down here for me,” he asked them as he wiped away one girl’s tears.
The little blonde spoke up. “You promise you won’t leave us down here with them?”
Xander got down on his knee, eye level. “I promise, sweetheart. Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky. She stared at it for a moment then hooked it with hers, and the other girls wove theirs in as well. “I just need you girls, no matter what you hear upstairs, to stay down here and stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”
They nodded. Xander broke the pinky huddle, took off his right glove, and removed his watch. He made a few clicks with his finger and set the timer for thirty minutes and handed it to the girl.
“By the time this gets to zero, you all will be on your way back home to your families. Okay?”
“O-Okay.” The girl took the watch and once again threw her arms around Xander’s neck and squeezed with all her might. Xander gathered the other three girls and gave them all a reassuring hug.
“Thirty minutes,” he told them. They wiped their tears and nodded their heads. Xander turned toward the stairs, and with a deep breath he refocused on what had once been just another target, but now was revenge.
Three minutes.
As he carefully ascended the dark stairs, he formulated a plan. He knew at full speed it would take him exactly 40.5 seconds to get from the mansion to where Kyle would be waiting to pick him up. Two-tenths of a mile, 352 strides, 1.15 seconds per 10 strides—40.5 seconds. This is the kind of subconscious math a professional does while thinking of his next move.
For an ex–Special Ops soldier, it is second nature.
He slowly opened the basement door, doing his best not to make any sort of sound as he peered around the frame into the foyer. The music was still playing, some sort of shit Mexican crooner, and the girl continued to nervously laugh in a nearby room. After finding the girls in the basement, he knew now why the girl in the next room seemed nervous. He followed the sounds and walked along the far wall of the foyer until he came to an opening that led to the occupied room. Xander inched his head around the door frame until his eyes found a young girl in a tight royal-blue cocktail dress. She couldn't have been a day over fifteen. Her profile was leaning against a dark oak bar, her curves had yet to blossom. She was talking to a man as he sat on a barstool in front of her. Xander leaned his head out just a little farther.
She was talking to Miguel Juarez.
Juarez was wearing a douchy thick-white-pinstriped dark-colored suit with a white button-down shirt. An extra-douchy purple fedora complete with a white feather—an actual feather cap—and an I’m a pretentious prick flowered pocket square, overly fluffed, jutted from his lapel. There could be a thousand reasons Xander didn’t like this guy, but all the reason he needed was watching his left hand rub all over the captive girl as he sipped from a bottle of beer.
Pacifico beer, no less. Christ.
She continued to politely remove his hand from her ass but Juarez kept on. Xander quieted the rage growing inside of him.
Two minutes.
Juarez sat exactly twenty feet from Xander, and ten feet from the same wall-size window that a moment ago he’d noticed lay directly under the master bed
room balcony. That window now revealed the reflection of a security guard standing just on the other side of the same wall Xander currently peered around. Xander pulled his head back and checked his phone. He had a text message from Sam.
A friend at the CIA tapped into a satellite that has an infrared signal. He said the satellite showed what looked to be five people inside the house and what looked to be two outside. Remember, if YOU are inside you must subtract one.
Xander received the message when he was in the basement so he knew he wasn’t one of the five. With the two he tied up in the bedroom upstairs and three in the room adjacent to him, that left only two other men on site and they were guarding the front door.
In order to protect the girls in the basement, except for the two he had subdued, they all would have to die.
Xander turned from the wall back into the foyer and bolted back up the stairs to the second floor. He unholstered a silenced pistol as he walked down the hallway, turned toward the foyer, and fired two shots that severed the decorative chain attached to the massive chandelier. The extravagant fixture dropped from the ceiling and shattered in an amazing crash on the floor below. The two guards at the front door rushed in from outside, and without stopping Xander put bullets in both of their chest and neck areas as he moved along the railing above them. Continuing, he opened the bedroom door and broke into a full sprint. He streaked past the two people he had previously tied to the bed and continued running outside through the open sliding door onto the balcony—grabbing the comforter he had tied to the railing earlier with his left hand and without hesitation leaping off the balcony. His momentum carried him out toward the backyard then it began to swing him back toward the large wall-size window below. With the comforter in one hand and a pistol in the other, he swung toward the great room window and squeezed off four shots that rocketed through the glass—two shots hit the security guard as he went to check on the commotion from the chandelier and two more shots, one in the back, and one through the back of the distracted Miguel Juarez's head. Just above that hideous snake tattoo.
Whiskey & Roses (The Xander King Series Book 1) Page 3
