Reb's Rampage (Reb Rogers Book 2)

by J B Black

  Yasser realized that time was of the essence. If he was to have his way with the American beauty he had purchased and escape the hacienda with her before any rescuers showed up, he would need to hurry.

  As the door to guest suite #5 opened to let Carlos’ mistress enter, Yasser quickly closed the distance between them.

  Just as Carlos’ mistress started to go through the door, Yasser shoved her in the back, propelling her headlong into the room.

  * * *

  As Reb listened to what was being said in the room down the hallway, he clearly heard someone scream out, ‘Are you fucking telling me that asshole, Yasser, isn’t here because he stayed back in his room so he could fuck the American woman?’

  Reb turned to Jake and said “You stay here with the two Bodyguard drones and make sure none of the people in the study interfere with our escape route. I’m going to go get Honey and the other two women so we can get the hell out of here. Call Justin and tell him to have one of the Guardian Angel drones take position over the courtyard where he can cover me when I get out on the East wing breezeway. Tell him to shoot anything that moves that isn’t me or the women.”

  Without waiting for a response, Reb took off running down the hallway toward the East wing.

  Jake called Justin and Rich and told them what the situation was.

  Justin took control of both of the Bodyguard drones and positioned them just off the entrance to the stairs with their guns aimed down the hallway toward the study.

  Rich moved the Guardian Angel drone that had been hovering at the rear of the mansion to a position over the courtyard where he could cover Reb along the East wing breezeway, just as Yasser shoved Sophia from behind. Before Rich could get a shot off, Yasser entered the suite.

  When Reb reached the end of the hallway, he opened the door that led out onto the breezeway to the East wing and saw a man shove a woman from behind knocking her into the guest suite at the far end of the wing. Reb realized it was the guest suite the DEA’s undercover agent had told them where Honey was being held.

  Reb brought his MP5 up to fire, but before he could get a shot off, the man followed the woman into guest suite #5.

  Reb started running down the breezeway just as fast as he could go.

  * * *

  Sarah watched helplessly as Yasser, the man who had appeared behind Sophia, shoved Sophia from behind. Sophia crashed into Sarah and the door was flung all the way open. Yasser stepped into the room right behind Sophia, as Sophia and Sarah both went sprawling to the floor.

  Sarah fell on her back and the back of her head hit the floor stunning her.

  Sophia, who had fallen forward, rolled onto her back, drew the gun from her handbag, and aimed it at Yasser.

  Before she could move the safety selector from Safe to Fire, Yasser lashed out with his right foot and kicked the gun from Sophia’s hand. The gun slid across the floor out of reach.

  Sophia tried to stand and, when she did, Yasser punched her on the jaw and she went down.

  Honey came out of her bedroom to find out what all the ruckus was about, immediately took in the situation, and ran toward Yasser. When she got within an arm’s length of him, she lashed out at him with a jab using her left hand, taking Yasser by surprise. Honey’s fist caught him squarely on the right side of his face.

  Honey then threw a roundhouse right at Yasser’s head.

  Yasser ducked and, as Honey’s momentum carried her around to her left, Yasser moved into position behind Honey’s back, wrapped his arms around her arms, grabbed her left breast with his right hand, and squeezed.

  Yasser pressed up tight against Honey’s back like he was a second skin. He was so close Honey could smell what he had eaten for lunch and, whatever it was, it stank to high heaven.

  Honey raised her right foot as high as she could and then slammed it down on top of Yasser’s right foot.

  Honey was rewarded with the sound of crunching bones and a blood curdling scream of pain.

  Yasser released his hold on her and Honey swung around and hit him with her fist in his Adam’s apple hard enough to crush his windpipe—a move Reb had taught her.

  Honey stepped back, holding her fists up in a defensive position, and watched as Yasser reached up to his throat with both hands, opened his mouth, and his eyes bulged out in abject terror as he tried to gasp for air.

  By the sound of it, not much air was making it down his windpipe and Yasser started flailing frantically about as his face started turning a shade of purple.

  Determined to kill the woman who had crushed his windpipe, Yasser started to rush toward Honey with his hands outstretched to grab her.

  Honey heard a gunshot and watched in surprise as Yasser toppled over dead.

  Honey turned around, saw Sophia holding a gun, and said, “Thanks for putting him out of his misery.”

  “It was the Christian thing to do,” Sophia said, as she rubbed her jaw with her free hand. “I just hope—in those final nanoseconds as the bullet blew his brains out the back of the sonofabitch’s head—it hurt as much as my jaw hurts right now.”

  As Honey went over to where Sarah was lying on the floor to see how she was doing, Honey asked Sophia, “How do you feel about throwing terrorists to the sharks?”

  “What was that you said?” Sophia asked, as she started to go over to the door to close it.

  “It was nothing, just an inside joke,” Honey replied.

  Just then, Reb rushed into the room with his weapon ready to shoot.

  Sophia raised her pistol and thumbed the safety selector switch to Fire.

  “Don’t shoot him, Sophia,” Honey yelled, “that’s my boyfriend, Reb.”

  Sofia lowered her gun and thumbed the safety selector switch back to Safe.

  Reb lowered his weapon, ran over to Honey, lifted her off the floor, and gave her a big hug. “You don’t know how glad I am to see that you’re safe.”

  Honey hugged him back and gave him a big kiss.

  CHAPTER 36

  Hacienda Vicario

  Veracruz, Mexico

  Thursday, May 6, 2010

  2:35 p.m. CDT

  Hashim realized Yasser had committed a major breach of protocol and knew—as the Americans were ever so fond of putting it—the shit was about to hit the fan.

  Hashim’s battlefield instincts kicked in when he saw Carlos reach for the pistol in the holster on his hip. Hashim pushed his chair back from the table and jumped up from it, while at the same time drawing his pistol and then pointing it in the direction of Carlos.

  The four mujahideen bodyguards, having sensed the sudden tension in the room, reacted to the sudden movement made by Hashim, and they too pushed their chairs back from the table, jumped up from the chairs, and pointed their Uzis across the conference table.

  On the other side of the conference table, Carlos, Raúl, the Chief of Security, and the eight-member cartel security team were all standing and had their weapons aimed at the Jihad Brotherhood delegation.

  “Drop your weapons,” Carlos yelled across the conference table.

  “You drop your weapons first,” Hashim yelled back.

  “I said to drop your weapons,” Carlos yelled again.

  “No, you put your weapons down and then we’ll put ours down,” Hashim said, thinking to himself so this is what a Mexican standoff looks like.

  “I know you Islamists take me for a fool,” Carlos said, “trying to get me to smuggle your bio-weapons into the United States without telling me what was in the shipping crates was bad enough, but now you think I’m going to tell my men to put their weapons down and expect you to follow suit?”

  No one in the study noticed the little Bodyguard drone as it whirred past the open door to the study with its camera capturing video and sound of what was happening inside the room.

  * * *

  Reb called Jake and said, “Jake, I’ve got the girls. Everyone is safe, but, Sarah, Honey’s business manager, has a head injury and we need to get her to the C-130 so t
he medic can have a look at her. What’s the situation in the study?”

  “Whoever is in there, they all have their guns aimed at the other side and they’ve got a real Mexican standoff going on, Reb,” Jake replied.

  “I’m heading back your way with the girls,” Reb said. “Be there shortly. See what you can do to get them to kill each other off before we get there.”

  “Roger that,” Jake said.

  * * *

  “Justin,” Jake said, “have Rich get back on the other Bodyguard drone and what I want you two to do is—”

  * * *

  Back in the Command Center of the expedition vehicle, Rich maneuvered his Bodyguard drone to the right side of the door to the study where he had a clear view of what was taking place on the side of the room where the conference table was located.

  Rich immediately recognized Carlos Vicario—from the photos the DEA had furnished them—standing at the end on the far side of the conference table pointing his pistol at a group of men on the other side of the table who appeared to be of Middle Eastern origin.

  “You got this?” Justin asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it,” Rich answered.

  Rich lined up the drone’s cross hairs on the center of Carlos’ chest and rapidly pulled the trigger three times.

  Shocked as the bullets hit him in the chest and thinking that Hashim had shot him, Carlos pulled the trigger of his pistol which was pointed in the direction of Hashim. He managed to hit Hashim in the chest. Then, Carlos fell to the floor, dead.

  Hashim’s dying act was to fire wildly in the direction of Raúl and the Chief of Security missing both of them.

  Raúl, the Chief of Security, and Carlos’ personal bodyguards all started shooting across the conference table at the four mujahideen and the four mujahideen opened fire at them.

  It was a short, deadly fire fight and not a single person was left alive after the final shot was fired.

  Justin and Rich flew their Bodyguard drones into the room and made certain no one inside the room would be able to ambush Reb, Jake and the three women as they made their escape from the mansion. Both men were thinking about what Jake had said about exterminating cockroaches.

  * * *

  Jake was standing guard near the stairs with the two Bodyguard drones hovering around him when Reb, Honey, Sarah, and Sophia came walking down the hallway. Sarah, who was somewhat woozy from her head injury, was being supported on either side by Honey and Sophia.

  Reb—who had heard all of the gunfire—said, “I take it our little problem down in the study has been taken care of?”

  “Not going to be a problem,” Jake replied. “By the way, what happened with the guy they were arguing about who missed their big meeting because he had a hot date?”

  “He fucked with the wrong women,” Reb said. “You ready to get the hell out of here?”

  “Justin, escort us out of here,” Jake said.

  “Hold on,” Honey said. “Jake, take my place here with Sarah.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Jake said as he took Honey’s place supporting Sarah.

  Honey started walking down the hall toward the study.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Reb asked.

  “I’m going to get my handbag and Sarah’s out of Carlos’ study.”

  “Honey, we need to get the hell out of here,” Reb said. “There’s nothing in those handbags that can’t be replaced, is there?”

  “Reb, the pistol you gave me is in my handbag and I’m not leaving here without it,” Honey said over her shoulder as she kept right on walking toward the study. “Plus, both of our cell phones with all of our contact information are in our bags along with our IDs and credit cards.”

  “Well, let’s go get it, then,” Reb said as he ran to catch up with Honey.

  A few minutes later, Reb and Honey came back out of the study and started walking back down the hallway. In addition to the two handbags they had gone for, Reb was dragging four large duffel bags behind him.

  Jake noticed the duffel bags and yelled out, “What the hell have you got there, Reb?”

  “A shitload of cash,” Reb replied. “Each one of these bags is full of hundred-dollar bills. Must be close to ten million dollars. I don’t guess finders keepers applies here?”

  Jake smiled and said, “Probably not.”

  Reb laughed and turned to Honey. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be able to keep it.”

  When Reb and Honey rejoined the group waiting on them, Reb asked, “Seriously, Jake, what’s the FBIS’ policy about confiscating the assets of drug cartels?”

  “Our charter authorizes us to confiscate the assets of any terrorists—including narco-terrorists—in the performance of our mission,” Jake said. “We dispose of the non-cash assets at public auction and the proceeds go into our war chest. The more we confiscate, the less money the American taxpayer has to shell out to keep us operating. Why do you ask?”

  “In that case, just consider this as a donation to your war chest,” Reb said. “Hopefully it’ll help defray some of the cost of conducting this rescue mission.”

  “Let me give you a hand with those,” Jake said as he took hold of the straps to two of the duffel bags.

  Jake turned to Honey and said, “Okay, Honey, are you ready to leave now?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Honey said.

  “Alright then,” Jake said, “Justin, escort us out of here.”

  “On it, Jake,” Justin replied.

  The two drones took off down the stairs. One flew out the door into the courtyard for a quick look around and the other one checked out the foyer.

  “Jake, it’s all clear,” Justin reported.

  “All right, Justin, we’re coming down the stairs,” Jake said. “Bring Big Bertha around to the courtyard and we’ll meet you there.”

  “Red Leader, this is Blue Leader, come in,” Jake called to Colonel Jackson in the lead AC-130J Ghostrider gunship.

  “Blue Leader, this is Red Leader, over,” Colonel Jackson answered.

  “Red Leader, Elvis is leaving the building. You are free to engage your targets, over,” Jake said.

  * * *

  When Colonel Jackson got Jake’s message, the two AC-130J Ghostriders and the C-130J that had delivered the hostage rescue team were orbiting the hacienda at an altitude of seven thousand five hundred feet above ground level. They were performing a continuous left turn so the Ghostrider’s guns were always pointed at their targets.

  Since arriving on station over the hacienda, the combat systems officers on the gunships had been busy entering targets into the plane’s fire control systems. Now that the hostages had been successfully rescued, the rescue team would be leaving the mansion and traveling to the airfield where they would be picked up by the C-130J. It was time for the gunships to get to work.

  Colonel Jackson called the pilot of the other AC-130J and said, “Andy, you can begin your attack anytime you’re ready.”

  “Thanks, Boss, these bastards won’t be selling anymore of their poison when we get through with them, that’s for sure,” the pilot of the second Ghostrider responded.

  Both planes began firing their Hellfire missiles at the large industrial buildings that housed the drug manufacturing operations and the warehouses where the end products were stored for shipment. Within minutes, those buildings were completely destroyed and burning.

  After firing all but one of their full complement of Hellfire missiles, the two Ghostriders descended to a lower altitude and the gun crews went into action and began firing the guns—the 25mm GAU-12 Gatling gun, the 40mm L60 Bofors cannon, and the 105mm M-102 howitzer.

  At 7 rounds per minute the 105mm howitzers began a non-stop barrage with one of the gun’s crew operating the breech and the gun’s other crewman loading the high explosive shells. Targets for the 105mm howitzer were the remaining buildings situated around the hacienda, the greenhouses used for growing the poppy plants, and the hangar and Yasser’s jet parked on the airfield.
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  The 40mm Bofors cannons began firing at vehicles and farm equipment. There were a large number of trucks at the hacienda used for moving the raw products and the finished goods from one location to another. Whenever the combat systems officers found large numbers of vehicles or pieces of farm equipment parked in the parking lot of a building or in a holding yard, the Bofors’ rate of fire was set to full automatic—120 rounds per minute—with the gun crewman feeding the cannon 5-round clips one right after another. Lone vehicles driving on the road were targeted with single shots.

  The five-barrel 25mm GAU-12 Gatling gun—capable of firing a maximum of 1,800 rounds per minute and serviced by the fully automated 25mm Ammunition Storage and Handling System loaded with 3,000 rounds of ammunition—was used for cleanup.

  The combat systems officers and the gun crews were determined to expend all of the ammunition for the guns—a combined total for the two gunships of 200 105mm rounds, 500 40mm rounds, and 6,000 25mm rounds—and destroy as much of the hacienda as they could in the process.

  The Vicario Hacienda had become a war zone.

  * * *

  Big Bertha came roaring through the gateway in the outer wall, drove into the courtyard, and came to a screeching halt right in front of the steps leading up to the front door of the mansion. Rich was driving Big Bertha because he and Justin had decided Justin had more experience with the drones and therefore Rich should drive.

  Just as Big Bertha came to a stop, everyone heard the explosions in the distance as the first Hellfire missiles found their targets.

  Startled, Sophia jumped. “What the hell was that?”

  “We brought along a couple of AC-130 Ghostrider gunships armed with Hellfire missiles to put this place out of business,” Jake said.

  “Damn, you guys don’t mess around, do you?” Sophia said.

  “It always pays to have overwhelming firepower,” Jake explained.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Sophia said.

  * * *

  After stopping Big Bertha at the front steps of the mansion, Rich exited the driver’s seat so someone else could do the rest of the driving and ran around to the other side of Big Bertha to help Justin pack up the drones now that they would no longer be needed.