Strapped to his boot was a seven-inch knife if push came to shove. Mark hated close combat battles, but things happened.
Everyone had to be able to carry two small children, so they took no water. The only other items he would’ve preferred for his team were body armor and helmets. Yes, it would’ve added weight but the security was undeniable. Bottom line, they didn’t have any. It didn’t matter.
Time to go.
Their plan was simple. Slow and steady. Gain entry to the grounds, neutralize the guards at the front gate and then the bunker, rescue the girls and their nanny, and evaporate into thin air. Their contingency plan was another story. They’d left a cache at two checkpoints. Checkpoint A contained grenade launchers and extra weapons with enough extra ammo to buy more time. Additional bandoliers waited for each agent, something quick and easily acquired if they were pursued.
Checkpoint B was the getaway vehicle with yet another supply of weapons and ammo clips at the ready along with water and first-aid. Extra gasoline was stored in the back. Mark didn’t intend to stop once they were on their way.
It was an all or nothing kind of night. If the worst happened, if they weren’t successful at taking out a sufficient number of the armed guards by the time they reached the van, the water and first-aid wouldn’t matter. But Mark planned for a positive outcome. They would ALL be alive when this was through. The girls would BOTH be rescued. And they would ALL go home tomorrow and leave this stinking desert far behind.
Time to go.
The initial problem was proximity and invisibility. Just after midnight, they’d started edging closer to the estate. They moved as one, Mark and Rory a few steps ahead, Cassidy and Brigham following close on their heels. Unseen. Noiseless. As silent as arrows, Mark and Rory easily dispatched the two guards at the hacienda gate and just as quietly dragged their bodies from view.
They entered the gate and pressed toward the target building. Just short of the cinder block structure, Mark and Rory crept into prone positions beneath a huge flowering bush and prepared to take down the two guards. Cassidy and Brigham took position around the corner of the gate. They gave Mark the thumbs up sign. So far so good.
Sitting casually on the wall, one guard puffed on a cigarette while the other cleaned his fingernails with a pocketknife. Neither appeared concerned. They chuckled at each other’s jokes and talked like two old friends with nothing better to do. Mark suspected both men would soon be asleep at their post. Takedown would go a lot smoother then, but he didn’t have that kind of time.
The clock was ticking.
With silencers in place, Mark hand signaled Rory to take the guard on the left while he dispatched the one on the right. But just as they laser-sighted their targets, a man and woman’s laughter could be heard. It was the lady of the house herself, Alejandra Ramirez, and her incestuous cohort, Javier Quinones. Brother and sister had come to take care of the final family business of the day. The guards snapped to attention.
Alejandra was dressed in riding breeches and tall riding boots. Her tight equestrian jacket made her look as if she’d actually dressed up for the despicable occasion.
Javier stood five inches or so taller than his sister. A pencil thin moustache lined his mouth and disappeared into the neatly trimmed beard at his chin. Except for the rakish look of lust in his eye as he followed his sister’s sensual movements, there was nothing to distinguish him from the other guards. No insignia, badge, or ornamentation marked the gray uniform he wore. By all appearances, he was just another man at her disposal.
Disgust watered the back of Mark’s throat at their continual petting. They laughed at some private joke, their heads together as they strolled toward the cinderblock bunker. Mark wanted to spit. They acted like cold-blooded teenagers in heat. Javier held his hand to her neck as he pulled her to him, kissing her full on her mouth, his hands in her hair. She laughed a throaty laugh, her head back as her brother kissed his way to the unbuttoned swell of her cleavage. Even their own guards looked away rather than witness the spectacle of a brother and sister pawing each other.
“This won’t take long, my love.” She smoothed a slender hand down his cheek, dismissing the guards with a curt nod. Javier stayed at the door while she entered the bunker alone. He chatted quietly with the guards who by now were seated on the wall with him.
Within minutes, Alejandra returned, pulling her wide-eyed daughters along by their elbows. The nanny followed close behind. As soon as the poor woman stepped through the doorway, Javier was off the wall. He stuck his pistol into her back. “One wrong move and both these brats die, Juanita. Will you do as you are told now?”
She nodded, her head bowed as she focused on the frightened girls. Christina and Sophia cried. Javier pushed Juanita away from the girls and toward the two guards. The nanny and girls looked weak from the heat. Even in the dark, it was easy for Mark to see the girls’ bright red cheeks. Their hair hung in sweaty ringlets around their faces. Both appeared dizzy. His heart went to them. They needed water. Not their mother.
“I told you both to be quiet, now didn’t I?” Alejandra knelt with the little girls, almost motherly as she turned them to face her. While her voice was soft and sweet, her eyes were deadly and cold. She pinched Sophia’s chubby cheeks in her fingers. “There now. Be a good girl. Don’t cry because if you cry, Mommy will make you be quiet.” She twisted Christina’s arm up behind her back to get her point across.
“Mama!” the little girl yelped in pain.
“See what you made me do to your sister?” Alejandra still spoke to Sophia who cried at her sister’s tears. “Do you want me to hurt Christina again? I will, you know.”
Alejandra wrenched Christina’s arm one more time. When she screeched, Sophia wailed harder still. Javier stood watching his dead brother-in-law’s family drama with an amused smirk on his face.
“Girls. Girls. Listen to me. You must be quiet. Shut up!” Alejandra’s sharp command cut the air. “Mommy wants you to be quiet!”
Both little girls silenced their sobs. Alejandra shoved Christina away from her. As quick as she did, Christina pulled little Sophia into her arms and hushed her whimpers even though she’d been the one who was hurt. No words were spoken as the trembling baby sister relied on her older sister for comfort.
“There. That’s better. Mommy can finally hear herself think.” Alejandra stroked her temples as her daughters gazed up at her. “You will be good girls one last time, won’t you?”
“Si, Mama,” Christina’s small voice could barely be heard where Mark lay watching. Both Christina and Sophia nodded like the two obedient children they were, their faces shining with tears. “Te amo,” Christina said just as softly.
He cringed at the love in her voice. His own childhood had been wasted in much the same way as these little urchins—by wanting the love of a parent. At least his father had only verbally abused him. Not that it excused John Houston, but Christina and Sophia’s parents were a thousand times worse.
Little Sophia wiggled from Christina’s grasp and stretched her arms to her mother. Alejandra ignored the child, her eyes only for Javier. “See? Like lambs to the slaughter. It will be easy. And I am going to do it with the silver knife you gave me. Just think. It will be like an ancient sacrifice. Maybe I should have waited for the full moon.”
Mark heard the weird excitement in Alejandra’s voice at that disgusting declaration. Her next words chilled him to the bone. “Do you want to watch?”
She walked slowly back to where Javier stood, her behavior bizarrely seductive. She whispered something in his ear that Mark couldn’t make out. Javier pulled her to his mouth in a vulgar kiss, but when she pulled away and laughed, Mark saw the dribble of blood on her chin. Javier’s leer told him plenty. He’d bitten her. And the growling excitement in her voice was unmistakable. These two enjoyed cold-blooded murder and rough play.
Alejandra’s attention was focused on her lover, but Sophia still stood with her chubby arms raised. Her lip stuck ou
t in a pout, tears ran down her cheeks. With typical childish drama, she stamped her foot and squealed, “I want Mama!”
Alejandra spun on the child and jerked Sophia off her feet by one arm. Alejandra raised the little girl to eye level, her hand clenched at the child’s throat, screaming, “You sniveling slut! I wish I’d never had you. Your father was a pig and you’re nothing better. Shut up!”
Mark winced at the shocked expression on that little girl’s face. With a sneer, Alejandra dropped the baby back to the ground. Sophia had no time to catch herself. She landed with a thump and fell back. Her head struck the brick. Instantly, Christina grabbed her little sister, soothing her before Sophia could cry.
But Javier was bored. “Come on, Alejandra. All of this must be done by the time Ricardo arrives tomorrow. You don’t have time for a full moon. He knows nothing of these two. Just get it done.”
At the mention of Ricardo, a bright smile illuminated Alejandra’s face. “As you wish, my love. Come girls.” She snapped her fingers. Obediently, Christina and Sophia followed their mother to a nearby pickup truck. She placed them in the front seat beside her and started the engine, throwing a backward glance and a kiss to Javier. “I won’t be long, my darling. Will you wait for me?” she asked coyly.
Like a lovesick playboy, he blew her a kiss. “You know I will.”
With deliberate slowness, Alejandra pulled the truck away from the building, her eyes still locked on her brother as she drove away.
It was now or never. Mark hand-signaled his team—Rory to take out the two guards with Javier, and Cassidy and Brigham to take out Javier. Mark intended to stop the truck and apprehend Alejandra. A quick nod came from everyone. They were ready. Mark held up three fingers. Two fingers. One. Go.
Simultaneous shots burst from their silenced weapons. Down went both guards to the dust. Juanita screamed when Javier fell alongside the guards. The truck jerked to a rumbling stop.
“No!” Alejandra exploded from the driver’s side. With one swift movement, she pulled her daughters out with her, pushing them between her and the advancing team of snipers. “You’ve killed him! No! No!”
And then she howled one ear-piercing, pain-filled cry to the dark like an animal with its leg in a trap. Dangerous eyes flashed from Mark to Juanita. “You murdered the man I love!”
Christina and Sophia screamed, their pitiful voices adding to the bedlam. Alejandra flattened herself against the side of the truck, her daughters still clutched in front of her. She held them tight, her fingers digging into their necks to keep them in position.
Juanita called to the girls. “I am here, mi corazon. I am here. I will never leave you. I am here.”
An ugly spite-filled laugh rent the night air. “Juanita. You pig! You talk of heart, but you have killed mine! Mi corazon! My brother! Ahh!”
Mark advanced, his voice strong and calm. “Let the girls go, Alejandra.”
“You!” she yelled. “Who are you to come into my home and kill my family?”
He stopped. Again he gave her the firm command. “Let the girls go. They don’t need to die anymore than you do.”
“Never! They are from my body! Not yours! They are mine to do with as I please.” Her eyes flashed from Mark and back to Juanita, before they settled on the prostrate figure of Javier. “You’ve killed him! My lover! My life! Ahh!”
Rory and Cassidy approached while Brigham held Juanita back. She was still focused on the girls, her arms extended to hug them the minute they broke free. Both girls’ eyes were locked on her. “Please, Alejandra,” Juanita pleaded. “I will take them far away from here. Ricardo never needs to know. Please. Let me take them.”
“No!” Alejandra dragged her daughters to the tailgate of the truck. “That is not good enough and you know it.” Tossing the truck keys into the dark, she reached inside the truck bed and pulled out a pistol. Now the gun dug into Christina’s neck. The little girl sobbed, still clutching her baby sister tightly to her chest. “I will end it right here and now, Juanita. You and your friends are too late. Tonight we die together.”
“No!” Juanita made a move toward the girls, but Brigham stopped her.
“Alejandra. Give me your daughters. Now. I will let you live. You have my word.” Mark took another step forward. By now he stood less than six feet from Alejandra and the frightened girls. Little Christina sobbed while she clutched a crying Sophia. Their dark eyes glistened up at Mark and Juanita. Rory stood on one side, Cassidy at his other. Three guns drilled down on Alejandra.
“Ha!” She shook her head, her glossy black hair billowing across her shoulders, her eyes dark and deadly. “You would have me believe that lie? Why would I want to live now?” She licked the blood of her brother’s last kiss off her lip. “You’ve killed my love! My life!”
“She will kill them,” Juanita pleaded with Mark. “Please, sir. Save my babies.”
With that righteous plea from a good woman’s heart, training took over. The sniper’s many calculations rolled automatically through Mark’s mind as he studied Alejandra’s defensive position for one last second. She shrieked in defiance and hysteria, still shielding herself behind her daughters. He heard the trigger click at her finger. He saw the wild insanity in her eyes. And his own sweet baby daughter’s smile, safe and sound in her loving mother’s arms, flashed into his heart.
No conscious decision relayed between brain synapses; no spotter at his side whispered calculations to assist. The round leapt from the chamber of his SIG seemingly of its own accord. Alejandra pitched face first onto her daughters. Both girls screamed. Mark shoved the dead body off the girls and knelt to gather the frightened little girls into his arms. Their insane mother was dead, but they were alive. His heart filled with intense appreciation for his talent. His God-given gift.
Sophia and Christina clung to his neck, wide-eyed and sobbing, their little bodies shaking as he held them tightly. “It’s okay, you’re safe,” he whispered. They clung to him, their little fingers dug into his shirt in pure hysteria. “I promise. You’ll be okay now,” he murmured, needing to soothe them the same as if they were JayJay.
Juanita joined him in comforting the frightened girls. Mark looked toward the hacienda. Despite all the noise, no other guards had arrived yet to investigate. But he knew better.
Time was running out.
“We have to go, Juanita.” Again his strong voice was calm and assuring.
She gathered the girls from his arms into hers. Sophia still whimpered, but Christina seemed to understand that silence was necessary. Over and over again, she soothed her frightened little sister. Rory, Cassidy, and Brigham stood ready, still maintaining vigilant cover, their rifles aimed toward the hacienda.
“Let’s move,” Mark ordered calmly.
They were almost clear of the gate when the first shots rang out. Rory staggered a step and then righted himself, a grunt of annoyance in his usually calm voice. “Damn it. I think I’m hit.”
But he kept moving, his rifle spitting fire on the now advancing army of guards that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Mark took out two, then three as they engaged in rapid fire. He shouted to his team what they already knew. “Cover the girls! At all costs we cover the girls and Juanita!”
“Understood,” Rory yelled back, his body already positioned between the girls and the advancing army. He fired sure and steady, another guard down, then another. And still the army kept coming. Mark and his team finally took cover against the wall outside the gate.
Time was gone.
Twenty-Six
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The helicopter’s blades changed itch as it descended. At last it bumped earth, bounced slightly and touched down. Steeled for assault and already on the defensive, Izza still jumped when the cruel man at her left slapped the side of her head with his open palm. “Move it,” he ordered, his hard hand jerking her to her feet.
The gun barrel in her back prodded her to walk. Her guards didn’t speak. They already knew what was going to happen
next. Fear climbed up her throat. Blindfolded and with no way to run, all she could do was wait and find out. Not sure how many men walked alongside, she strategized the simple dynamics of a roundhouse kick. Hunker low. Keep your balance. Make every contact count like hell.
The baby in her belly bumped her ribs. The roundhouse kick would have to wait. Izza walked where she was directed, but the men were cruel. Not one of them warned her about the single concrete step into the building. She fell, hitting the floor hard and face first. A sharp kick to her backside and the men laughed. Another kick struck her belly. She curled inward to protect her child.
“Stop!” The guy who’d struck her in the helicopter hissed at his partners in crime. “She wants her alive.”
Izza cringed. She who?
Connor was in the shower. They’d stopped at a twenty-four hour department store on the way into Salt Lake City. Alex ran in and purchased new clothing for his agent, complete with a shaving kit and a few medical supplies. Connor would’ve gone into the store by himself, but Alex didn’t want him to scare the hell out of any late night shoppers.
The room service tray with a steaming hot meal was at his hotel room door by the time they arrived, but now the waiting game began in earnest. Alex had faith. Ember and Mother were good. They’d find something if only because they had to. That was the way Alex disciplined his mind to think. He aimed for a specific outcome. His techies and the universe obliged often enough that he employed the same approach to most problems. Mother and Ember would locate Izza, and they would do it tonight. God willing.
The shower slammed open. He glanced at the half-closed bathroom door. Connor was close to collapse. He’d devoured the hot roast beef and potatoes before he’d even sat down. The extra big slice of cheesecake disappeared in one mouthful. After he’d showered, Alex intended to take a good look at the gunshot wound. How that young man was still on his feet was a testament to the kid’s sheer willpower. Connor was gaunt from his all-protein diet, badly sunburned, and seriously dehydrated. That meant Izza was in the same condition, only she was also with child.
Connor (In the Company of Snipers Book 5) Page 26
