FStop

by Desiree Holt

  Rick opened the laptop he was holding and called up the aerial footage Andy had sent them. “Look here,” he told her.

  She and Mike watched with him as the photos zoomed in closer and closer.

  “There’s the hut,” he said, pointing with his finger, “and far enough away that we have some difference is the main house. The estancia. If we can take out the guards without alerting anyone we can get everyone out of the hut and be away before anyone’s the wiser.”

  “What are those blinking lights?” she wanted to know.

  Rick smiled. “Those, Kat, are the hostages. Alive and moving around. This time we know for sure they are there.”

  He set the laptop aside, then picked up a backpack and removed three items from it.

  “I don’t remember seeing you with that last time,” Kat told him.

  “Didn’t use it,” he told her. “I didn’t think we’d need it but the parameters are different this time. We may need a little distraction.”

  “What is it?”

  “A grenade launcher that breaks down into three parts.” He grinned, despite the seriousness of the situation. He was like a little boy playing with toys. “Another one of LaRue Tactical’s nifty little items. We can use it to delay any pursuit if they send anyone up from the main house when they hear the helo.”

  “Liftoff in five,” Mike told them and took his seat in the cockpit.

  To Kat it seemed only seconds before she heard the familiar whine of the engine and the whapping of the rotors. They lifted off smoothly, each man concentrating on his own preparations. Kat sat beside Faith again, leaning back against the wall of the cabin. She felt the vibrations of the huge helicopter rumbling through her body, reminding her this was far from a pleasure trip.

  Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, she did the only thing she could do now.

  She prayed.

  * * * * *

  Anthony Delaware closed his cell phone and looked at the people seated around the table. His agents looked tired yet alert, while Pelley, Post and Prescott gave the appearance of having been run over by a garbage truck. The executive image had long since disappeared. They all looked at him expectantly.

  “We’ve finally got something to go on,” he told them. “The helicopters reported seeing the motorcycle head for a small, isolated private airfield outside the city. There was a plane waiting for him. It took both the driver and motorcycle onboard, then a few minutes later took off.”

  “Any idea where it took off for?” one of the agents asked.

  Delaware took his time answering, watching the reaction of each person. “It headed south,” he told them. “Probably into Mexican airspace. But we did get something out of it.”

  “Well?” Pelley said. “Are you going to tell us what it is or not?”

  “One of the helo pilots saw it through binoculars. A logo painted on the side of the plane. Mazatlan Textiles.”

  “Have we traced the owner?” someone else asked.

  Delaware nodded slowly. “We got lucky, because the owner is really a corporate shell. But we’ve got good techs at the Bureau. Mazatlan Textiles is owned by Victor Herrera, leader of the Sinaloa drug cartel. Probably the most vicious of all the drug lords. It’s a very good guess—no, not even a guess at this point—that he’s behind the kidnapping and he’s holding the hostages on his estate.”

  No one said a word as Delaware let his gaze travel from person to person, noting every change of expression, making a mental note of those whose reactions set up warning flags.

  Finally Pelley asked, “Does this mean you can’t go after them? That you can’t cross the border to get the hostages?”

  “At the moment, yes. Herrera surrounds himself with an army of guards and a firefight wouldn’t do anyone any good. Plus, he owns most of the federales so we won’t get any help from the government. It’s too dicey a situation. I’m sorry.”

  An agent at the other end of the table cleared his throat. “Don’t chop my head off for suggesting this, Anthony,” he began, “but maybe it’s not too late to bring in the Phoenix Agency.”

  “I think that ship has already sailed,” Delaware snapped. “Sorry.” Damn sorry.

  “So we just sit here and wait?” Prescott spat at him. “And hope they release the hostages before killing them? What a stinking way to do business.”

  Delaware spread out his hands. He agreed, only he was hamstrung by his boss and Bureau regulations. But he had another angle to work on. He looked at the three men who’d received the messages.

  “A heads-up, gentlemen. We’re going through all your financial records, personal and business, to see who might have a connection to the Sinaloa cartel. Even a fleeting one during the course of business. If there’s something there, we’ll find it.”

  He waited.

  “You know I own a spa in Mexico,” Post blurted out. “But that doesn’t mean I’m involved with people like that.”

  “We know about that, Mr. Post. If it’s a clean business deal, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “So we just sit here and wait,” Pelley repeated what Rand Prescott had asked.

  Delaware nodded. “I want all of you where I can see you until we get word the hostages are released. Pelley, is it possible to get some food sent up from your cafeteria?”

  Pelley rose from his chair. “I’ll take care of it right now.”

  “One of my agents will go with you. Just in case you have any questions about personal likes or dislikes.”

  Pelley glared at him, then stormed from the room, an agent trailing behind him.

  * * * * *

  Mark had finished with his preparations and opened his laptop to check for any additional messages from Andy. No sooner was he online than the icon flashed and he clicked on it. Staring at the message, he realized they had the last piece of the puzzle in place. Not only did they have the evidence of who had planned this but if Agent Anthony Delaware would cooperate, they could even identify the main contact. The chairman of this little group from hell.

  He nudged Rick who was sitting next to him and turned the screen so he could read it.

  Rick stared at it. “Son of a bitch.”

  Dan held out his hands for the computer and Mark reached across so he and Troy could share it.

  “Damn,” Dan said.

  “Double damn,” Troy echoed.

  “Who the hell would have thought this?” Dan asked.

  “Who would have thought this whole scheme was possible to begin with? It took Andy to connect all the dots.”

  “So now what?” Mark wanted to know.

  “Now,” Dan told him, “we get the Wrights and Mari Culhane out of there, get them back home and take down this abominable arrangement.”

  * * * * *

  They couldn’t do anything about the noise of the helicopter. They just had to take care of business as quickly as possible. Ed let them out far enough away from the main house that the sound wouldn’t be right over their heads, using the trees for cover and finding a clear space to hover. Just like they’d done the night before, the men fast-roped down to the ground.

  Before moving to the open door, Mike leaned down and gave Kat a hard kiss on the lips. “I love you and we’ll bring them back.” Then he was gone, a muscular figure in camouflage loaded with weapons and equipment. He still felt the impression of her lips on his as the men began to move stealthily toward their target.

  The trees grew very thick here, as opposed to the location of the other hut where the hostages had been held. About five hundred yards from their target they stopped and Dan found an appropriate tree to climb. As soon as he was high enough, he found one notch in the limbs to straddle and another to rest his sniper rifle on. Carefully he looked through the scope to focus on the view. In the Marines he’d worked with a spotter but for what they were doing today he didn’t need one.

  After a long minute he looked down at Rick standing just beneath the tree, nodded and held up one finger.

&nb
sp; One guard, in view, in his sight.

  Rick made an “okay” signal with thumb and forefinger. Dan held up his hand again with two fingers upraised.

  Two minutes. Move now.

  The others continued to move closer to the hut, crouching low. As soon as they reached it, Mark clicked his throat mic to signal they were in place. Only Dan, as he fired, heard the puff! of the silenced shot but they saw the guard in back crumple to the ground, the back of his head blown away. As he fell Mark and Troy moved to the front and in seconds the second guard was down. Troy clicked his mic twice, the signal they were entering the hut.

  Troy lifted the heavy piece of wood holding the door shut and swung the door open. The four people inside scrambled to their feet, backing away toward the far wall. Mark held his fingers to his lips, then pulled back a velcroed flap on his sleeve to show the Phoenix Agency patch.

  “No questions,” he whispered. “We’re getting you out of here but we don’t have much time.”

  Mike blessed the fact that no one asked any questions. They all looked as if they’d been through hell but they followed him out of the hut, the others covering their rear. As they passed the guard at the back of the hut, they heard his radio crackling and a voice calling him to check in.

  “Hustle,” Mike whispered into his comm unit. “We could have company any minute.”

  They moved through the trees as fast as they could, the hostages hurrying to the best of their ability. They’d gone about three hundred yards when they heard the roar of an engine and the slam of car doors. Then heavy voices in Spanish, loud and angry.

  Mark. Can you hear me?

  Mark touched Rick’s arm and pointed to his head. Yes. What is it?

  Ed’s at the pickup point. How’s it going?

  We have the hostages and we’re on our way.

  Oh thank god. I’ll tell Kat.

  “Buy us some time,” Dan said, when Mark relayed the message to him. He was down from the tree now. “No need for silence anymore.”

  Mike moved slightly to the side, brought his rifle up and laid down covering fire as Rick brought the grenade launcher into place. One whoosh! and a trail of fire blazed toward the men pursuing them. Screams of agony sounded, followed by the stuttering sound of a machine gun. Dan, Mark and Troy had the hostages, literally dragging them along. Rick loaded another grenade while Mike laid down more fire, then another whoosh! And another trail of fire.

  More screams as more men were caught in the inferno but those not hurt kept coming. Ed had touched down in the helicopter but kept the rotors moving. The men literally threw the hostages into the Black Hawk and scrambled in after them as Ed lifted off. Rick straddled the opening, brought his rifle to his shoulder as did Mark and they fired at the pursuers, watching with satisfaction as some of them fell.

  Then Ed lifted high, away from the guns firing below and the scene below them fell away.

  Kat was hugging her sister, ignoring the tears running down her face. The Wrights clustered together, made as comfortable as possible by the Phoenix men. Dan, Troy and Mark put their headsets on again and Mark handed units to everyone in the Wright party so they had a way to communicate over the noise of the rotors.

  Eli Wright was the first to speak. He held out a trembling hand to Dan. “I don’t know how to thank you. We thought for sure they were going to kill us. How did you even find us? By using Katherine’s abilities?”

  Dan inclined his head toward Kat who was still hugging her sister as if she’d never let her go. “She never gave up. Without her we’d never have located you, much less gotten you out of there.”

  “Very few people really understand remote viewing,” Mike said, packing away his weapons and shrugging out of his vest. Then his mouth curved in a tired grin. “But we were damn glad to have her and her gift.”

  Troy got out the medical kit and began attending to the wounds. “I think you’re going to have a scar, unfortunately,” he told Sydney Wright as he cleaned and disinfected the cut, then put a bandage on it. “It should have had stitches but it’s too late now. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m just happy to be alive,” she said. “Besides, it will help to remind me that none of us are that far removed from the dangers out there today.”

  He shook out two capsules in his hand and gave them to her with a bottle of water. “Antibiotics. You should be on them for the next few days. I’ve got enough for the next couple of days, then you can get a prescription from your doctor.”

  “I don’t know how we’ll ever thank you,” she said for the tenth time.

  Troy gave her a half-smile. “It’s what we do.”

  He turned from her to look at Mari, gently probing the bump on her head and checking out her vision.

  “I’ll get you some ice for your head,” he told her. “I don’t think you have a concussion but we’ll get it x-rayed when we land.”

  He moved next to Eli, gently removed his shirt and probed his chest and stomach.

  “I think you have a couple of cracked ribs,” he said after running his fingers over the man’s chest. “You’re sore beneath this bruise but that’s to be expected.” He reached for an elastic bandage in his kit. “I’ll wrap you for now but we’ll get a better idea when we take you all to an emergency room in San Antonio.”

  “We owe you a lot,” Wright said gratefully. “Dan Romeo has made a couple of efforts to talk to us about our security.” He looked at Dan. “You come to see me next week. I’m ready to do business.”

  Lissa required little more than cleaning with sanitary wipes and a couple of aspirin. She curled up against her mother, clinging to her tightly. Sydney kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair.

  “I knew you’d find us,” Mari said to her sister on a hiccupping sob. “I knew you’d find a way to ‘see’ us. I told everyone you and Phoenix would save us.” She hugged her again. “I’m so glad you’re my sister, Kat.”

  She finally sat up, wiped her eyes and looked around. “Where’s that handsome pilot you’ve been mooning about for two years?”

  Kat laughed, pulling her sister tight again. “He’s in the cockpit, helping to get us home. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to him.”

  “Then we all need to do some talking,” Dan said, over the noise of the helicopter. He looked at Eli. “I have information for you that isn’t going to make you too happy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Nando finally made his escape from Victor Herrera’s wrath, happy to have his skin in one piece, never mind his life. He had never seen El Jefe in such a rage. Not that he himself was any too pleased. How in the hell had these people, whoever they were, learned who had taken the hostages, where they were kept and yanked them out under the very noses of El Jefe’s personal guards?

  Because they had gotten sloppy, he told himself. Too confident. A mistake he’d never make again.

  His men were burying the dead and tending to the survivors even as he retreated to the safety of his own quarters. He pulled out his cell phone, his hands shaking as he pressed the speed dial for the man he was sure had betrayed him. Señor Rasgon would regret this, every day of his miserable life. Nando would exact his pound of flesh and more. And remind the man it was very unhealthy to make an enemy of the great Victor Herrera.

  The phone rang four times on the other end before going to voice mail. He swore and snapped the phone shut. He’d wait a few minutes and try again. He knew the phone was set on vibrate, so this would be a warning to the idiot to get himself someplace to talk. But after six tries he still had no success making contact.

  Swearing in gutter Spanish, he punched in another number, determined that someone would feel the heat of his anger.

  * * * * *

  Javier hurried to the side of the hangar to answer his cell phone. He had a very bad feeling about what he was going to hear.

  “Stupido!” Nando’s voice exploded through the phone like a bomb. “You miserable little cockroach. You are worthless, you hear me? A piece of garbage.
”

  “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Javier stammered.

  Jesu Cristo! Now what?

  “If you weren’t my cousin’s son, I’d be feeding you to the fish right now, piece by piece.”

  “I don’t understand.” Javier shifted from foot to foot, trying to fight the roiling in his stomach.

  “They’re gone, pendejo. The damn hostages are gone.”

  Javier wanted to throw up. How could this be? He had heard the men talking, seen them leave.

  “I am sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Do not think you will rest easy over this one,” Nando told him. “El Jefe would like to see your ass roasted over a slow fire.”

  “Please, Nando,” he began.

  “You should go to church and pray to the Virgin Mother that you are still breathing when this is over.”

  * * * * *

  Troy was keeping a sharp eye on the hostages. He really wanted to get them to an emergency room, not fully convinced they shouldn’t get more medical attention. But everyone was anxious to get home as quickly as possible. He finally told Dan that for the trauma they’d been through, they were holding up remarkably well and after checking them each once more agreed to no hospital. He taped Eli’s ribs and made a note to remind Kat to keep an eye overnight on her sister. He figured the big crash would come once they were all inside their own homes.

  They stopped to pick up the Gulfstream, leaving Rick and Troy to ride back in the helicopter with Ed. He would take the Black Hawk back to their private airfield outside Baltimore. It was mid-afternoon by the time the rest of them landed in San Antonio. The SUV Mark had driven to the airfield was still where they’d parked it. Dan managed to score a second one from the private terminal manager, at the same time letting him know the plane would be back in the hangar. They transferred everyone to the two vehicles while Mike parked the plane.

  Mark had called Anthony Delaware en route, told him they had the hostages and asked him not to tell anyone yet that they were free. He said they’d be bringing them to the Wright building shortly and would he please keep everyone there. He knew they all wanted showers desperately, and something to eat that resembled real food, but needed to wait until they confronted the person who’d set this all in motion.