Ron beamed. “Are we going in?”
I turned to him.
“Yep.”
With Vincent still lame in his leg and Zetto lying on a bed, I had only Ron on the op.
Coocher’s home was a fortress. He had a ten foot wall around his thirty-acre property, guards from El Libro Security, and six Rossan wolfhounds. The main house sat in the middle of the property, a good hundred yards from the main gate. I’d bet the house had security up the wazoo. And it was huge with at least a dozen bedrooms in its three stories.
“With all that security, makes you wonder what the man is afraid of.”
Ron answered, “Maybe he fears reactions from those he hates so much.”
Chapter 25
We expected at least twelve shooters, including Coocher, Hoskins, and several guards. I didn’t like the odds. Twelve to two. But I had few choices.
Even wearing full-body armor and packing lots of firepower, we’d be in close range of many guns. I suggested semi-automatic rifles. Ron carried a shotgun too. Both of us had our regular Snaps, two other guns, and knives.
Since there were so many guards, we would try subterfuge. That meant wearing outer clothes. With the weather getting cooler that should not be a problem.
Vincent pulled out a pair of eyeglasses.
“Andy dropped four off before he went to La Seille. They have the same night vision and instant shutters we have in our Z helmets in case of glaring lights. They also have the same communications.”
Andy’s Z helmets had come in handy many times. When one person speaks, his helmet will select slices of the voice, encode the information into a scrambled packet of data, compress it, and send it out over the next channel from a preselected list. The other guy's helmet will receive the burst, acknowledge receiving it, slow it, unscramble it, and send to his earpiece. In this way, it would be next to impossible for anyone to detect and decode the conversation.
The radio waves will be of short duration and the frequencies changed according to the preset sequence of 240 channels out of a possible ten million in a short burst of less than a thousandth of a second. In addition, the low power of the radio waves made it unlikely that anyone over sixty feet away could detect the conversation.
I pulled on a pair of the glasses and noticed right away they had side and top covers. Our eyes would be fully protected from glaring lights.
“Flip the switch on the left side,” said Vincent.
I did and my vision returned to normal. I removed the glasses.
“Tell Andy thanks.”
“You can do that yourself. He’s coming back next week.”
We discussed what subterfuge to use and Ron suggested we pretend to be HO people. We went over several scenarios. All had inherent risks, even with Vincent and the BIS van parked outside the guard gate and in constant touch.
Zetto would have to be alone for a few hours, but he was okay with that. “I’ll load up on pain killers. Have a little party of my own here.” He patted an automatic rifle and a Snap next to his legs. “And I’ve got my friends here.”
The big issue was when. I didn’t want to wait until dark. That would mean another half day of Leanna and Alena maybe being tortured. They could even be dead already.
I ended all further discussion.
“Let’s go in there.”
Zetto showed us the HO logo of a glaring male face scowling down at a smaller man with artificial arms next to a robot.
I went to work on adding that logo to two light blue jackets that were a bit large, even for Ron or myself. We’d be wearing armor underneath our dress shirts.
Ron got out two pairs of pants with pockets hidden inside. We’d add another layer of light blue pants to match the jackets. We donned rubber-soled dress shoes.
Fearing recognition, I insisted the three of us wear moustaches with heavy sideburns, the rave now in men’s fashions. We put on wigs of light hair and contacts to change the color of our pupils to blue. And the magical glasses. We had kept our light colored skin. Coocher might be suspicious if our skins were dark.
“Ready?” I said.
Ron nodded and Vincent stood. We waved to Zetto. “Don’t open the doors until you see our natural faces. I’ll send a warning message using the code word ‘alphabet’.”
On the side of the van, Ron slapped a magnetic name plate with the HO logo. Vincent drove and Ron and I sat in the back.
“Ron, when I pull my gun on Coocher, you take out any guards nearby. Then move back and forth so nobody else could get a clear shot.”
I sat back, lost in thoughts. On every op, there was a chance one of us could die.
#
When we arrived at the guard gate at Coocher’s place, Ron and I left the van. Not sure if we’d be allowed in with our rifles, we left them. Both of us wore two larger Snaps plus the smaller ones on our right ankles.
I told the guard who approached us, “We gotta see Coocher.”
One older mean looking guard shook his head. “Not without an appointment.”
“Call him. I’ll tell him why when he’s on the phone,” I said.
The guard examined us and went inside his little guard station. He left the door open and I walked in. Ron stayed outside to chat with the other two. While the older guard was distracted, I reached in my inner pants pocket and pulled out a package. Ron had engaged the two other guards in conversation and stood so the other two had their backs to me. They laughed while I tossed the package under the desk of the guard on the phone.
When the guard passed the phone, I said, “Mr. Coocher?”
“Yeah, what is it?”
“I saw something about that communications guy. Thought you’d like to see it yourself. I don’t want to give any names but his first name starts near the end of the alphabet.” I figured they would know his real first name since he may have spurted that out under torture. Even so, his cover name was Yates Smythe.
After five seconds of silence, Coocher said, “Put the guard back on.”
Not sure if he bought it, I tensed. I’d have to shoot the guard if he refused us.
He put the phone down.
“It’s okay.”
I relaxed my muscles.
He went outside and talked to the other guards.
“Let these two in. The van stays out.”
I looked at Ron.
This is it. We’re on our own.
The gate opened slowly and one guard held his hand palm up to Vincent to show he could not enter.
Vincent nodded and backed up the BIS van.
Ron and I walked through the opening gate and onto the crushed stone walkway. We kept silent, not sure if anyone would have microphones aimed at us.
The house looked even more intimidating than on the overhead.
Three stories tall, the lowest floor had no windows except near the front door. I saw men with rifles moving on the roof. Visitors had to walk up cement stairs that split in two before coming to the front door.
After fifty yards of walking up the driveway, I said, “Jeesh. This guy sure keeps a strong house.”
“Yeah he does,” said Ron.
I chose the stairs on the left and when we got to the front door, we met two more guys carrying rifles. Behind them, the door opened.
There stood Coocher, dressed in a gold-speckled purple jacket tied with a gold-colored waistband over his large belly. He wore purple slacks and black shoes. He stood at my chin height and must have weighed at least two hundred pounds. The top of his head was bald. But something was wrong with his posture. The guy was bent sideways, something that never showed on his camera appearances. But I remembered his face from the many vids I’d seen.
“Mr. Coocher,” I said as I extended my hand in greeting.
He didn’t return the shake. Guess he didn’t like mingling with common folk.
“Inside,” he said. “Show me what you got and leave.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
Once we got inside, we looked at a long hallway. Coo
cher stayed behind us and motioned with his hand that we should walk farther. One guard closed the door. Two of them walked behind Coocher.
Not sure if someone was watching, we kept up the subterfuge.
“The library’s on your right,” said Coocher from behind us.
We entered a room filled with book shelves. And hundreds of books. Then I remembered this guy liked old-fashioned stuff.
Once all five of us stepped inside the library, Coocher closed the door.
I pulled out a Snap, rushed up to him, and jabbed it in Coocher’s neck. Ron fired twice and the two bodyguards went down. Then he looked upwards and shot out three cameras.
“Where are the women?” I asked Coocher.
“What women?”
“Don’t make me ask twice. One of them is my daughter. I’m willing to give my life to get her back.”
Sweat formed on his fat forehead.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I fired my Snap beside his head and watched him jerk in surprise. His manner changed immediately. Now he believed me.
“Downstairs,” he replied. “In the basement.”
“Lead the way,” I said.
“You won’t get away with this. I have guards all over the place. They’re watching us right now.”
“I figured that. That’s why I’m holding a gun to your neck. They won’t risk killing you. Now go!”
Ron and I stayed close to Coocher. But Ron moved back and forth to make it more difficult to get a shot at him without endangering Coocher. We walked the hallway and entered the stairwell. Four men with guns pulled followed us but with my Snap at their boss’s neck, they didn’t dare open fire.
“Drop your guns,” I yelled.
They complied.
“Stand back or I’ll shoot him first, then you,” I yelled.
The four guys stayed still as we walked. I figured them to be ex-cops. There was no sense in getting killed for a few sols.
I kept my gun on Coocher’s neck. Ron busied himself by shooting out several cameras on the way with his Snap. We approached an elevator.
I shook my head. No way was I going to get stuck in a box, even with Coocher as a hostage. Too damned many things could go wrong, included knock-out gas.
“Stairs,” I ordered.
Coocher looked at me and my gun, aimed at his head. He turned and walked to a door under a red light with “Stairs.”
I pointed with my Snap and he pressed on the door to open it.
We went through the door and down the stairs. I heard footsteps behind us and glanced back to see four guards follow us.
“Tell your guards to keep their distance.”
Coocher looked at them and yelled, “Keep your distance.”
The guards stopped moving. Orders are orders.
When we got to the basement, we came upon a door with a keypad. Coocher hesitated.
I pressed the gun farther into his neck. “I’m damned serious, Coocher. Hesitate now and you’re dead. We’ll shoot our way out. But you’ll be a goner. At this close range, I can’t miss.”
The man’s hands shook while he pressed the keypad and then placed his palm on the glass rectangle.
The door slid ajar.
“Who sent you?” asked Coocher.
Apparently his confidence had returned.
“None of your business,” I answered. “Your first priority is staying alive.”
Ron popped his head in the doorway.
“Another frickin’ hallway,” he said.
“Lead the way,” I said in Coocher’s ear.
Ron stayed close and shot out four cameras as we walked.
We stopped at the last door on the right.
“They’re in there,” said Coocher, with his eyes wide open and staring at me.
The man shook. I’ll bet this was the closest he had ever come to facing death. Gone was the self-confidence I had seen on the telly. But then again, bullies usually were afraid of getting hurt. That was my advantage.
Ron raced around us and tried to open the door.
I motioned to Coocher. “Open that door.”
Once again, his hands shook at he pressed on the keypad and then the palm glass.
When we heard a click, Ron opened the door and crouched down.
Sure enough, we weren’t alone. Three guys faced us, wearing casual clothes, not uniforms. Ron fired while I stayed behind Coocher. All three went down. They were fools not to wear armor.
In two chairs sat Leanna and Alena, blindfolded and tied with their hands behind their backs and their heads bowed. Neither had a shirt on so they were naked from the waist up.
I noted the blood on their clothes.
Bastards!
Chapter 26
Both women had gags on their mouths.
Ron rushed up to Alena first and took off her eye mask and gag while I stayed with Coocher. Then Ron went to work on Leanna.
Alena exclaimed, “I knew you’d come! I knew it! I told Mom you’d come.”
I could see burns on their chests. Some son of a bitch had burned their right nipples. I could see little dark spots on their arms and legs. It was enough to make me gag, but I had a job to do.
“Sorry ‘bout taking so long,” I said. “We had to find you first.”
Alena’s face held tears. “But you got here. I knew you would. Thanks, Dad!”
I held Coocher close me to and kept my Snap at his throat as Ron untied both women. Sweat poured down the fat man’s neck.
“After what I’ve seen of your handy work, I’d just as soon kill you right here.”
Coocher’s eyes opened wider and he shook.
With my eyes glaring at Coocher, out of the side of my mouth, I said to the women, “I hope you can walk on your own.”
Leanna stood first─and fell. Ron helped her get to her feet. She looked pale and hesitant.
“Easy, Lee,” I said. “Take your time.”
I said to my open comm line, “Vincent, we got ‘em. We’re in the basement. Shoot your way in.”
The next thing I heard was a boom. The package I had left in the guard gate must have gone off. It was strong enough to level both the guard building and the gate. But it might make a hole, preventing Vincent from driving his van through the gate.
In five seconds, I heard the faint rapid chatter of gunfire. Vincent’s drones must be closing in on the front door. The sound of glass shattering in the distance came next.
I kept my Snap on Coocher’s neck as Ron help both women walk to the door. They were an ugly sight as they both had bloodied legs and chests. He helped the two walk, one on each of his shoulders.
In the hallway, we met a group of ten guards with guns pointing at us.
“Lay down your weapons!” I shouted. “Or I’ll kill Coocher and then you.”
The guards looked at each other.
Ron took advantage of their hesitation. He let go of the women, unstrapped his shotgun, and fired at the armed men. One went down. That did it.
A young guard laid his gun on the floor and raised his hands, his eyes wide open. The others followed suit. I would remember for a long time the look of fear in their eyes. I didn’t like scaring them but it couldn’t be helped. If they were scared, they were less likely to act brash.
I brushed my hand to the side as we approached them. They all moved to one side of the hallway, keeping their hands up. Four of them stared at Coocher, the rest kept their eyes on me.
As we walked by them, I wondered if one of them would get brave at the last moment.
“Make one sudden move and I’ll shoot your boss,” I yelled. “And then we’ll shoot you.”
The warning must have helped because they stayed motionless with their hands up, their guns on the floor.
We got to the main entrance at the same time as Vincent entered the door carrying an automatic assault rifle and wearing one of our special helmets. He could control the drones by voice with it.
He used the strap
on his rifle and pulled it over his head. Then he lifted Leanna up into his arms. Ron picked up Alena the same way. I followed them with Coocher as they walked the hundred yards to our van outside the guard gate.
This was one time I appreciated our Binger greater strength.
Overhead two drones aimed their cover fire at the building, continuing a constant chatter of gun fire shooting out windows on the two upper floors.
As we walked, I saw four guards come around the side of the building on my right. A drone sprayed fire in their direction. Two dropped. The other two ran for cover.
That hundred yards seemed like a mile, especially since I had to walk backwards. Vincent led the way to our van.
Our drones stopped shooting and a shot rang out from the building. Coocher fell from my arms, exposing me to fire. I saw his back ooze blood. Some brave son of a bitch had hit him instead of me. I left Coocher on the gravel, his eyes staring at me wide open. I think he expected me to kill him on the spot.
A drone lowered itself between the building and me, providing some protection. As it chattered away with its automatic fire, I saw guards with guns duck behind whatever cover they could find.
I turned and ran after Vincent and Ron. They had gotten Leanna and Alena in the van. I hopped in after them and pulled the sliding door closed. In seconds, Vincent got in the driver’s door and drove off.
Several pings told me our van had been hit. Two loud explosions followed.
“I blew up the drones to prevent them from getting into the wrong hands,” said Vincent. “Figured it might shake them up too.”
Which was a good thing since their electronics came from Andy’s Mourtan Security.
“They will burn with Pyronex, destroying all evidence,” Vincent added.
I looked at Leanna. Ron was busying putting StopIt bandages on her open wounds. I got busy doing the same on Alena’s.
We drove a devious route to lose any tail.
Ron asked, “Do you think we should take them to Newton?”
I looked at Alena, then Leanna.
“No. You can bring her later. Let’s get them to the ops center.”
On the way, I remembered to send a message to Zetto. “We’re coming in with our gals.” Then I remembered to use the password. “And an alphabet soup.”
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 15
