Chapter 35

Dalton

Day 1

Daylight broke shortly after our arrival, which meant we’d spend the day doing reconnaissance.

Satellite imagery was an asset during missions such as this one, but being able to physically circle the grounds, even at a distance, and getting the lay of the land had its perks. We were able to get a feel for how Ortiz ran his operation: how many enforcers per building, shift changes, generally getting a pulse on everyone’s habits.

We spent most of our time in the woods outside the compound, exchanging information over our com units about the goings on surrounding the three buildings we suspected our mark was being held in.

Ortiz and a few of his higher-level enforcers had been sighted. They’d taken off together in some old rusted military Jeep, right at dusk.

“Everyone ready to go in when I give the signal?” I asked. “Remember, tonight’s strictly a recon effort. We’re going in, checking things out, then getting out. If you get a visual on Ms. Alvarez, let me know. We’ll regroup, then decide what to do from there. No one’s playing hero, got it?”

I heard a slew of copys and Roger thats.

“Uh, Kip?”

“Yeah, Huss?” I had reverted to her old nickname for this operation. It was easier to keep things platonic. Most of the guys called her that instead of using her first name or a variation of it anyway.

“I’m running an infrared imaging software on the live satellite feed over here, and based on what I’m seeing, the two warehouse buildings you’re about to check out are empty,” she said. “The house, however…”

“Okay, boys, you heard the lady,” I said. “T, Shane, Preacher, and Miguel, you guys are up on Building F. Cade, Tate, Brycen, and I will take Building H. Once you’ve cleared the outside, you may enter, but I want your eyes on everything. Huss, I want to know the second you think someone’s onto us. With what we’ve seen over the last fourteen hours, if anything looks unusual, I want to know about. Got it?”

“Copy.”

Half an hour later, I gave the all clear to move out.

“All clear outside Building F,” Theo, the lead in his group, said ten minutes later. “Going in, now.”

My team and I cleared the perimeter of our building a few minutes after Theo’s. “All clear outside H,” I declared.

There were two points of entry on both buildings we were searching. I pulled up the schematics on my phone, the men huddling around me to study the floor plan. Tate picked the locks on the door facing the woods, then stood back.

I entered first, my Glock drawn. My eyes began to water immediately, and my nose burned. I’d just walked into a lab.

“Masks on,” I ordered, taking mine from my cargo’s thigh pocket, sliding the half mask on. We’d just have to deal with the stinging eyes for the time being.

It didn’t take long to figure out that the place was deserted, but it left me surprised that it was. My gut started churning, my brain telling me that we needed to get the fuck out of there.

“Theo, we’re out. All we have here is a lab. Meet at our rendezvous point.”

“Check,” the man said. “Wish I could say the same, boss.”

Him calling me boss had my hackles rising.

“SITREP, T,” I told him.

“There’s something wrong with the schematics Huss gave us for this building,” he explained. “I know walls can be torn and floor plans can change, but there seems to be missing a good fifty square feet to the back of this place.”

“That’s impossible,” Devolin said. “I compared the satellite images to the floor plans. The measurements match.” She sighed. “Hold on.” Seconds later, we could hear her furiously tapping away at a keyboard. “Fuck.”

“Talk to me, Huss,” I growled.

“I just found another set of plans. Looks like Ortiz had some kind of underground bunker designed a few years back. I’m sending them to your phones right now,” she said.

“T, we’re coming in,” I said. “We don’t know what you’re getting into, but a bunker doesn’t say anything good.”

“I agree,” the man said.

 

It turns out that the bunker was one of the cartel’s merchandise storage and packaging points. And I had been right in joining in the fun. Two men were standing guard. We wondered why Devolin’s infrared didn’t catch them, but she explained that the infrared was only good for surface heat. Apparently, if you’re far enough underground, you can’t pinpoint a heat location. Judging by the number of stairs we took down, I’d estimate that we were a solid fifteen feet below the floor above us.

The two enforcers were taken down. This wasn’t a kill mission, since we were civilians, but when someone whips out a gun, you shoot first and ask questions later.

Not wanting to give ourselves away, we brought the bodies with us, then dumped them outside of the compound, away from our rendezvous point.

 

Day 2

We spent the day much like the one before, scoping out Ortiz and his men. Suffice to say, Ortiz seemed to notice the absence of the two guys we took out last night. The boys and I were forced to move back, which put a wrench in our surveying plans, because he’d had men patrolling the compound perimeter.

By nighttime, we were ready to take our last target—the large house.

Ortiz was present tonight. Then again, so were dozens of others. It looked as if the man was having a party by all the high-end vehicles parked all around.

“Huss, d’you manage to get any details on our guests here?” I asked her.

“You’ve got some high-rollers in there tonight,” she said. “I’m talking police force officials, a U.S. Senator, most of the others are CEOs and business owners. A mix of Mexican and American.”

“He’s having a sale,” Tate stated, disgust heavy in his words.

“Could be a sampling,” Cade surmised.

A pain-filled cry by a female rented the air.

“Girls,” was Shane’s hypothesis.

I concurred.

“What’s our infrared look like, Huss?” I asked.

“Looks to be groupings of two to four in various rooms. I have a large grouping with weak signatures. I’d be willing to bet that those are coming from a shallow basement,” she said.

I bit my lip, then asked my next question. “Any available entry points?”

“Front door only,” she said. “I’m sending you an image of what I’m seeing right now.”

Seconds later, my phone chimed with Devolin’s text. One look said that it would be possible, but there’d be no way we’d get out of there without being found.

My hand was forced. “Pull back,” I gritted through my teeth.

“We could––” Brycen started, but with one look from me, he halted.

“Pull back,” I repeated. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

 

Day 3

A complete clusterfuck. We were forced to sit back and wait again.

 

Day 4

It seemed that the inside of the house was always bursting at the seams with people at night, so in the interest of getting the fuck back home with our mark in tow, I sent Shane and Theo to check things out during the day. That large heat signature—the weak one—that Devolin had found had not once moved or cleared from her screen since our arrival.

“We’re in,” Shane whispered over the line.

“Found the basement,” Theo added. “Going in.”

A few minutes later, I heard all hell break loose. At first, I heard some guy yell out what sounded like “What the fuck!” in Spanish, then two other males joined the fray. The distinct sound of a gun going off with a silencer on it could be heard, just moments before a regular gunshot rented the air.

“Leave one of them alive, guys,” I said. “We need to ask them about Ms. Alvarez.”

Then everything went silent.

“T? Shane?” I asked through the grunting noise.

No answer.

“T? Shane, do you copy?” I repeated.

“We’re gonna need backup,” Shane said. “I’m counting eighteen women here. The fucker’s got them in a large cell.”

Caged like animals.

My blood boiled. “Any sign of Alvarez?”

“Nothing,” the two men said at the same time.

“Get those women to talk, T,” I said. “I’m coming in. We need to get this done before the shift change.”

 

Day 5

Leaving those women behind had been the hardest thing I ever had to do. Eighteen women sharing a single toilet. No beds, just a pillow and blanket each. A single meal a day—usually bread and water. There wasn’t even enough room for them to lay down all at once. They’d been held captive ranging from three months to ten days for the most recent arrival. What made me sick was that they’d all stated that a woman had played a part in their capture—Nadia Alvarez to be more precise.

As to whether our mark was a partner, or she’d been coerced and threatened to cooperate with Ortiz, remained to be seen. Devolin was now tasked in digging into Nadia’s past to see if we’d missed something. Until she came up with concrete proof, we were treating this operation as it originally was: a kidnapping rescue. That also meant that we were sitting back yet again and evaluating which ones of our options was still viable, and which ones to scrap due to this new turn of events. The waiting also allowed us to come up with some new contingencies as well.

 

Day 6

It took most of the night before Devolin could find concrete proof that Nadia Alvarez had ties to the Juan Cartel. Turns out, her father had been an arresting officer during a raid of the compound back when she was in the States, living with an aunt and uncle, while in college. The pageant world sure as hell had worked out for her.

The aunt and uncle had passed, a little over two years ago in a carjacking, while visiting family in their native country.

The more Devolin dug up, the more Nadia appeared as a woman scorned in search of revenge. The pieces of the grand puzzle were coming together and it was becoming clear quite quickly that Minister Wentworth and his son had both been used––at least initially––as peons in Alvarez’s quest to get to Ortiz.

Rustling in the trees behind me had me freeze. The distinct sound of a hammer cocking back on a pistol had my blood turning to ice.

In what felt like a lifetime, but was only seconds, a muffled woman’s squeal made me jump into action, only to find our mark held against Tate’s chest, his hand over her mouth, his other arm wrapped tight around her torso.

The man wore a shit-eating grin. “Mark secured, boss.”