by Jade Dean
Peeling off his wetsuit, he donned his boots and left the suit in the grass near the wall. It would only slow him down if he took it with him. Treading softly, he worked his way through to the edge of the garden.
Three hundred yards of immaculate lawn separated him from the house. Two banditos stood on the path that ran all the way around the mansion. They were smoking and chatting in voices too low for him to hear.
Fading back into the trees, Dale searched for one that was large enough to take his weight. He took his binoculars out of his bag and hung them around his neck before he scaled the largest tree in sight. It was thin and almost too flimsy to hold him, but it didn’t snap in half as he feared.
He climbed up high enough to see into the second floor of the building and wedged himself into a fork in the tree. Lifting the binoculars, he peered through the windows. Most had been left open to let the desultory breeze inside. The temperature would begin to drop soon and he had to take advantage of the open curtains while he still could.
His search was in vain and he saw only guards and several beautiful, scantily clad women. One was pretty enough, but she was too hard in the face to be classed as beautiful. Dressed in black leather pants, her very fake breasts were barely contained by her too tight leather vest. Her blonde hair was as false as her tits. Judging by her outfit, she was the infamous Tatiana who’d come so close to slitting Ryan’s throat.
She caught the eye of one of the guards and led him into a nearby bedroom. Looking back over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being observed, the bandito shut the door and turned to see the Russian dropping her pants. She knelt on the bed and turned to give him an order over her shoulder. Worried that he’d be caught by his boss, the guard didn’t bother to strip off. He unzipped himself, pulled his penis out and shoved it into the horny blonde.
Jackson watched with horrified fascination as the weird yellow-green eyes of the blonde almost seemed to be staring straight at him as she was roughly banged from behind. Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly enough for the sound to travel across to him. The guard frantically increased his pace and Dale decided he’d seen enough. He wasn’t sticking around for the grand finale.
Sliding down to the ground, he kept to the garden as he worked his way around to the east side of the mansion. Josh was hidden somewhere near the helipad in the distance. He could feel his teammate’s eyes on his back as he searched the building for their target. The ground floor was clear of all but guards, so he shimmied up another slightly larger tree. This time he didn’t see anyone getting semi naked together. He also didn’t spy Diego in any of the rooms.
Sliding back down to the ground, he froze when he heard footsteps approaching. One of the guards was coming straight towards him. The smell of cigarette smoke wafted ahead of the outlaw. It was followed by the even less pleasant scent of sweat and grime.
Pulling one of his knives, Jackson turned sideways so he was hidden behind the tree. For once, he was glad he wasn’t as large as Doran. If he had been, he’d have been spotted for sure.
The guard was now only a few feet away and he prepared himself to slit the man’s throat. He was on the verge of violence when he heard a zipper slide down. Pungent urine splashed against the tree and the guard let out a grunt of relief.
Letting out a silent breath, Dale re-holstered his weapon. He’d have killed the man in a heartbeat, but only if he had to. Ryan wanted Montoya to be located before they started raining death down on the inhabitants of the small island.
When the guard finished his business, Jackson waited for him to leave before moving around to the south side of the building. He remained hidden in the bushes as he scanned the lower level. This time he didn’t have the option of climbing a tree to see inside the second floor. One of the guards’ barracks was a hundred yards to the south and it would offer him the greatest vantage point.
Staying low so he wouldn’t be spotted through the windows, he made his way to the rear of the building. An old wooden shed containing an array of gardening tools leaned up against the rear wall. It seemed sturdy enough, so he hoisted himself up onto it then climbed up on the roof of the barracks.
He lay down on his stomach and his black clothing helped him to remain just a smudge in the shadows. Carefully scanning the upper floor, he frowned when he saw only guards strolling through the hallways on patrol. There was only one side of the mansion that he hadn’t searched yet and he was starting to wonder if Montoya was even here.
₪₪₪
Chapter Three
It had been too much to hope that their mission would go without a hitch. Ryan and Abby listened as Jackson reported in after half an hour of silence.
“I’ve searched the mansion and the target is nowhere in sight,” Dale said with a hint of frustration.
“Did you see Tatiana?” Abby asked. She kept her voice a whisper so the nearby guard wouldn’t overhear her. The man hadn’t shifted from his spot and seemed half asleep on his feet.
“Yeah.” Jackson’s tone hinted that the sight hadn’t been pleasant. “She was…entertaining one of the banditos.”
“If she’s here, then Montoya is here as well,” Ryan concluded after sharing a glance with Abby.
“He’s not in the house,” Dale said with certainty.
“How many women did you see?” Abby asked.
“Including Tatiana, there were eight women on the second floor.”
Ryan’s lips turned upwards slightly in a not quite smile. “There should be nine,” he told his team. “Montoya is here somewhere and he has one of the women with him.”
“He was crafty enough to have a secret opening to the basement in his other mansion,” Holt said from his hiding spot in the boathouse. “Maybe he has one here, too.”
“Good thinking,” Ryan said. “Spread out and search for an underground entrance.” He received clicks of acknowledgement then his earpiece went silent.
Using his binoculars, Ryan searched the west side of the main building, hunting for any telltale signs of a hidden door. Before he could become frustrated with his failure to detect anything useful, Doran’s deep voice spoke.
“I found a hidden set of stairs near the helipad,” he advised. They heard a grating sound as he lifted something heavy. “The passage leads towards the mansion,” he added.
“Stay put,” Ryan ordered. “We’re on our way to you. Holt, what is the status on the transportation?” he asked as he and Abby stayed low and made their way towards the garden that ringed the mansion on three sides.
“It’s rigged to go boom if someone tries to start it,” Matt said with suppressed glee.
“Good job. Meet us at Doran’s location.”
“Roger that.”
“Jackson, find a high vantage point and keep your eye on the mansion. Advise us if you spot our target.” Dale clicked once in response and Ryan concentrated on moving stealthily through the trees and bushes.
Abby fell back into the role of an agent with disturbing ease. She hated to admit it, but some part of her missed the thrill of the hunt, even if she didn’t miss the slaughter that usually came at the end. There would be death this night and most of their adversaries would deserve it, but she’d never enjoy pulling the trigger. Her now deceased Black Squad members had enjoyed killing their marks, but it had just been a necessary part of the job for her.
She’d wanted to be an agent since she was a kid and it didn’t take a psychologist to understand why. Her parents had been murdered, leaving her an orphan at the age of ten. She’d been asleep when the madman had broken in and had sliced her mother and father to pieces.
Abby had found them the next morning. She’d spotted strange dark footprints on the carpet leading to their bedroom. The door had been left open and she remembered thinking that her mother had bought red sheets instead of the usual white.
The sheet had been pulled up over her parents and just the tops of their heads poked out. Her father’s hand stuck out from beneath the sheet and she’d w
rapped her fingers around his. His hand had been so cold and there was a cloying smell in the air. Abby had tugged on his hand to wake him and it had slid out from beneath the sheet. Her young mind hadn’t been able to comprehend it at first when she’d lifted his severed hand to her face. Her eyes had slid to the red, red sheet and she’d reached out and pulled it down.
The cops had arrived about ten minutes after the neighbors had heard her screaming. They’d found her huddled in the corner with her knees drawn up to her chest, staring at the jumble of body parts that had once been her parents. She was still screaming, but she’d lost her voice by that point.
In the weeks that followed their deaths, she’d been interviewed by FBI agents that had been chasing a serial killer for months across several states. They finally caught him and one of the agents had been kind enough to call her in her new foster home to let her know that he’d been killed during the capture.
At ten years old, Abby had lost her entire small family. She’d learned to hide her grief and to shut off her emotions. Doing so gave her the ability to be focused and calm. She’d become proficient at several types of martial arts styles and had shown a particular aptitude for weapons training in the styles that taught it.
She had one goal and that was to become an FBI agent so she could dispense justice to the people who deserved it. Taking the required courses in college, she’d stood out from the others and had come to the attention of Logan Matthews. He’d scooped her up before she’d even graduated and had taken her under his wing. Only eight years older than her, he’d been handsome and charismatic and she’d fallen for his lies. She’d believed that he was one of the good guys rather than the cold, heartless bastard that he really was.
For the next nine years, she’d willingly obeyed his every order. There had been times that the missions she and her team were sent on seemed questionable, but she’d stayed loyal and had pulled the trigger every time she was told to. In the months before she’d walked away, something had changed. Logan had never been particularly approachable, but he’d become harsh and almost cruel. The last few missions that he’d sent her on had seemed more like personal vendettas rather than for the good of their nation.
Then had come the fateful mission that had taken her team to the Middle East. Her whole life had been turned upside down and she’d been forced to kill or be killed and had gone into hiding. She’d been on the run from Logan ever since. A shudder worked its way up her spine at the thought of what he’d do to her if he ever caught her.
Catching Abby shudder from the corner of his eye, Ryan turned to her in concern. She offered him a weak smile and motioned for him to keep moving. It had been over a year since she’d been on a clandestine operation, but it was all coming back to her almost too easily.
₪₪₪
Chapter Four
Josh popped up from behind a shrub when Ryan and Abby were close enough to see him. Their silenced guns swiveled in his direction, but they didn’t shoot when they recognized his large silhouette.
Holt reached them a couple of minutes later and all four converged on the hidden door that Doran had found. Set into the ground, it was concealed by fake grass that didn’t quite blend into the real thing. Josh had closed the door after investigating it just in case any of the patrolling guards came too close. At Ryan’s nod, he inserted a knife into the narrow crack and levered the door open again.
Matt helped him to lift it, not that the larger agent required his assistance. Abby eyed the small, square metal door and wondered if she’d have the strength to push it open from the other side.
“Cover the door,” Ryan instructed Josh, much to his disappointment. Doran preferred action to door duty, but he accepted the order without complaint.
Ryan donned his night vision goggles before entering the passage. A short flight of stairs ended at a dark, cramped concrete hallway. Switching to thermal vision, he saw no signs of life, but the walls were probably too thick for the lens to be able to penetrate very far.
Several metal doors branched off the long corridor. They stopped at each one, wasting time investigating what turned out to be empty storerooms.
A final door stood at the end of the hallway. They hadn’t travelled far enough to be beneath the mansion yet and it was still some distance away. The door was locked, but Abby had brought a police issue lock pick along. Inserting it into the lock, she had it open in a few seconds then moved aside to let Ryan enter first.
Another long hallway stretched out in front of them and more doorways stood on both sides. Their search became more complicated when Ryan opened the first door on the left and saw more passageways in the small room beyond. Holt investigated the door across the hallway and nodded that it also contained more passageways.
Ryan didn’t like it, but it would be far faster if they split up. “Holt, search the right side. Abby, take the left. I’ll continue down the main hallway.”
Matt disappeared with a nod, but Abby hesitated. “Be careful,” she said and went up on her tippy toes to kiss him.
“You, too,” Ryan replied and took the lock pick that she offered.
He tried not to worry as he entered the main hallway and headed towards the door at the end. Abby had proven that she could take care of herself, probably better than he could. Yet he couldn’t shake the sense that disaster crouched just around the corner.
Trying the door, it was locked and he used the lock pick to open it. It was dark on the other side, but his goggles lit up the room in a faint green tinge. He switched to thermal and saw no red blobs to signify that anyone was hiding down here.
He was in another storage room, but this one wasn’t empty. Wooden crates and large containers were stacked up in random rows. All were nailed shut and he wasn’t curious enough to investigate their contents. Knowing Montoya, they probably contained weapons. It was too damp to store drugs down here. They were kept on the mainland in warehouses where they could be shipped quickly and easily.
By now, the mansion would be above him and there could be any number of rooms spread out beneath the ground. A quick search gave him three choices of doors. With Abby and Matt searching to the left and right, he opted to continue straight ahead. Again the door was locked, and he had to waste a few moments to open it.
His hackles rose when he heard a muffled moan coming from the next room. It sounded like a moan of pain rather than pleasure. He could practically feel Diego on the other side of the door as he forced himself on his chosen bed partner. Bedsprings rocked in a hard and fast rhythm.
“I’ve located the target and I’m moving in,” he murmured. He received four clicks of acknowledgement as he picked the final lock.
Pushing the door open, he saw his long hated enemy energetically thrusting himself into the ninth woman. From what he could see, it wasn’t much of a bedroom. The bed was barely wide enough for two and the mattress was old and grimy. The woman gave another low moan of pain, which brought a chuckle from her assailant. Montoya classed himself as a ladies man, yet he was just a common rapist after all.
Raising his gun, Ryan fired once, squinting against the brief flash of light. Far brighter light blinded him as the light was switched on. The woman began shrieking in fright when her assailant slumped over her.
Ripping the goggles off, Ryan spun around to see Montoya approaching him with a fierce grin and his assault rifle extended. As always, he wore a linen suit, minus the jacket. His silk shirt was blood red and was unbuttoned to reveal his chest. He pulled the trigger, sending two bullets thudding into Ryan’s chest. The agent went down hard, much to Montoya’s delight.
“You think you are so smart, Agent Sheldon,” Diego said as he stopped beside his fallen enemy. Ryan gasped in pain and turned onto his side to protect his body. “Yet you walked straight into my trap like a lamb to the slaughter.”
Smiling down at the man who had joined his organization in the hopes of getting close enough to kill him, Diego levelled his gun at the blond man’s face. Gunfire sounded
somewhere else in the underground complex, startling him into looking up. Then a gun barked and pain tore through his arm. His hand went instantly numb and he dropped his gun with a snarl of rage.
Winded from the bullets that had thudded into his vest, Ryan’s vision swam as he aimed again. Montoya dived sideways onto the bed before he could blow his brains out. Pushing the dead bandit to the floor, he used the still screaming woman as a shield. Dragging her to her feet, he stayed behind her as he walked backwards to the closest door. More gunfire echoed throughout the passages as he opened the door and sidled through it.
Ryan felt as if he’d been kicked by a horse as he climbed to his feet. Being shot at close range was never a fun experience. He was glad he’d worn his vest beneath his jacket and that Montoya hadn’t aimed for his head.
Running for the door, he ignored the stab of pain in his chest and cursed when he found it locked. “The target is on the run,” he advised his team.
“Roger that,” Jackson said. “I’ll keep a watch for him.”
Abby and Holt were too busy gunning down banditos to reply.
Men appeared through the next door and Ryan dropped down to his knee and took two of them down. He started when a hand touched his shoulder and turned to see Abby standing behind him. She gave him a tight smile as she levelled her assault rifle and mowed the remaining men down.
Holt joined them, transferring a new clip into his rifle as he took refuge in an alcove. Silenced weapons weren’t going to be of much use now, so Ryan put his handgun away and reached for his own assault rifle. They’d carried a range of equipment with them in their waterproof bags. Dale had brought a more unique weapon along; a sniper rifle just in case their quarry ran.
More lackeys spilled into the hallway and Ryan signaled for his team to fall back. They took cover in the bedroom that had been a trap and fired at the banditos as they appeared. More appeared from the doorways to the left and right and were also mowed down. The Special Ops Branch was always prepared for a fight and the small team had plenty of ammo to defend themselves.
