Chapter 17
—Own your decisions.—
“I can’t believe you let her come,” Gage said, annoyance tingeing his voice for the first time in a long time. At least toward Leighton.
He’d noticed that all his friends had been almost careful with him the last year or so. Which was ridiculous. “I couldn’t leave her by herself,” Leighton said into the earpiece. “Besides, she’s parked a couple blocks away. “If shit goes sideways, she’s fine.” And out of the line of any potential fire.
They were all using ear comms to communicate since they were spread out around the house where Marco’s tracker had stopped. It was a three-story Victorian home not quite in the Garden District as they’d originally thought, but a little on the outskirts. The area was nice enough and he was certain that the house would sell for a lot but there was a lot of foliage in the front and backyard. The entire neighborhood was set up that way. Most of the homes were older, some in disrepair, some very clearly abandoned, given the boarded-up windows and doors.
Which was good and bad. They could use all the natural cover to their advantage to infiltrate but all that foliage could hide things. Like people and traps. They had no idea what they were walking into at this point. This could be where the women were being held or it could be nothing. Just some place Marco came to for…whatever. Or the house could be rigged and they were all about to get blown up. The last one was doubtful, considering the heat signatures they’d seen in the house using their next-gen FLIR binoculars that Skye had “liberated” from the CIA when she’d left.
Apparently Gage wasn’t through complaining because he continued. “Just because your girl was running some programs on her computer—”
“Shut the hell up,” Axel said, his tone neutral. “He brought her and that’s that. If we all get shot up, she can be our getaway driver so it’s not the worst thing in the world to have her here. And I’m tired of your bitching. I seriously don’t know how Nova puts up with your ass. Maybe we should nominate her for sainthood.”
Leighton smiled to himself. Axel had naturally integrated into their crew with ease. He’d become one of them quickly and gave as good as he got. It was no wonder he and Skye were best friends. Neither of them tolerated bullshit.
“I see movement outside,” Savage said quietly. He was on the south side, watching the yard from a tree in the backyard of the house behind it. That house unfortunately wasn’t empty but whoever lived there didn’t seem to have any dogs or floodlights so he’d been able to scale the tree and use it as his lookout position.
“What do you see?” Leighton asked.
“Just a guy having a cigarette on the back porch. But he’s looking around, seems fairly alert. And yep, he’s armed. Can’t tell exactly what it is, but he’s got two bulges on his hips. Pistols likely. Or maybe a pistol and a blade.”
“Wonder if he’s looking out for anyone,” Gage murmured.
Leighton remained in place across the street on the front end. He was directly opposite Savage’s location.
The target house had a five-foot-high wrought iron fence surrounding it so even with all the foliage as cover, infiltrating the place would be a pain in the ass. But he’d already figured out a way to use one of the giant oak trees to his advantage. He could simply climb it, then drop down on the other side of the fence. He could be dropping into a trap, but that was the plan.
“Heat signatures haven’t changed. I still see six on my end,” Axel said. “Two in the midlevel floor and four downstairs. They’re clustered around something, the dining room table, it looks like. Or maybe a TV. But there’s no other heat signature indicating it’s a television so it’s like they’re eating or waiting.
“Same signatures here too,” Savage said. “There’s one guy in the back room. Kitchen, I’m guessing. And the guy is still smoking.”
“We can take eight guys if necessary,” Leighton said.
They all murmured their agreement. “How are we going to do this?” Leighton asked after another ten minutes passed. He was used to being patient, especially after being in the Marines. But they needed to make a decision now. He’d already checked in with Lucy via text and she was fine.
“I say we infiltrate,” Savage said. “If there are women inside, I don’t like just sitting here.”
“We can’t make a decision based on emotions,” Axel said.
“Fuck that. I’m not going to just sit here,” Savage growled.
“I’m just saying, the numbers aren’t right. Unless there are six women and two guards. But that seems like too small of an amount, especially given what Maria told us,” Axel said.
She’d told them that the guards rotated out, but they almost always had five armed guys at the house at any given time to “keep the women in line.” And she said that there had been up to ten women at one point, but some hadn’t come back.
“Most of the woman could be working right now,” Leighton said.
“Damn it,” Gage muttered. “The time is right for that. Which means they could come back with the women and more armed men.”
“We could have casualties if we wait,” Leighton said, not liking that at all. The whole point was to save the women. To get them all out unscathed.
“Let’s do this now,” Savage said. “We can take down however many men are in there now. “Then we wait to see if more people return.”
“I’m in,” Leighton said as the other two murmured their agreement.
“I don’t think this should be a front and back entrance. We need to be stealthy about this,” Gage said. “Take the power out first, then infiltrate immediately with our NVGs.”
Leighton definitely agreed with that. “I can get over the fence from the front and as long as there aren’t any motion-sensor lights, I should be able to scale up the house using the bottom balcony railing. I can infil that way, take out the men on the second floor.”
“Same here.”
“Dude’s out back smoking again,” Savage said. “I can take him out before we knock out the power. And there’s only one guy currently in the kitchen. I can take him out too.”
“What kind of force are we using here?” Axel asked.
“If these are the tangos we’re after,” Leighton said, “lethal. And I can’t imagine they’re not who we’re after, considering Marco’s tracker led us here.” If these guys worked for Kuznetsov—and according to the run Gage had done once the tracker had stopped here, the home was owned by one of Kuznetsov’s many shell corporations—they weren’t innocent.
As they finished ironing out the rest of their plan, Leighton moved across the street, using the shadows to cover him. He wasn’t a stranger to infiltrating places he didn’t belong. Especially behind enemy lines. And that was exactly where they were going, behind enemy lines.
Screw Kuznetsov and anyone who willingly worked for him. He made his money off the pain and suffering of others, had killed his own brother and sister-in-law, leaving Lucy an orphan. God, Leighton wanted to strangle him for that alone.
But he had to be focused now. His life and his teammates depended on it.
Going into hyper-focus mode, he plastered himself against the live oak tree growing next to the fence. Eventually it would grow big enough and push the fence down. He listened to the others talking as he hoisted himself up onto the nearest low-hanging branch, pulling up using all his upper body strength.
This right now was why he kept in shape.
Once he was crouched on the branch, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. The front of the house looked quiet, with two vehicles, including Marco’s Audi, parked in the driveway. “Any new movement?” he murmured, keeping his voice pitched low.
“No,” Gage said. “Tell me when you’re in position and I’ll cut the power.”
“Affirmative.” He stepped out onto the branch, tensing as it creaked slightly. Only two feet to go. Taking another step, he shoved off, propelling himself over the fence and into a cluster of elephant ears. The leaves gave way under his assault but the rustling was minimal.
Still, he paused, looking and listening for any other movement. Even though Gage hadn’t scanned any cameras, there was a chance there were some in place regardless. Right now, Leighton was operating as if they were in place. He moved toward the front porch, angling off to the side, and climbed up to the second-floor balcony.
“In place,” Axel said quietly.
“Same,” Gage said.
“Outside guard down.” Savage’s voice was barely discernible.
“I’m ready,” Leighton said, poised in front of the two French doors on the second floor. They’d all be going in fast and hard now.
“Three, two, power’s off.”
Weapon up, Leighton shoved his NVGs into place and kicked at the doorjamb. Wood splintered as the flimsy doors gave way. Sweeping the room, he saw no one. Hurried through it.
Pft. Pft. The soft sound of a silenced weapon filled the air. “Tango down on second floor. One ran out of the room, but he’s armed.” Axel’s voice was tight, controlled.
Leighton swept into the hallway, all his muscles tight as he swept into the next room, ready to clear it. He could hear movement downstairs and shouts of alarm, but he tuned it out for now. When the heated outline of a man popped out from behind a big dresser, he swiveled fully, barely dodging to the side as the man fired.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Plaster exploded behind him as he dove to the side, landing on the nearby mattress. He fired once, twice, hitting the guy in center mass.
The man dropped, but Leighton kicked the weapon away and shot him once more in the head before stepping out of the room. He tensed when he saw another man, but it was Axel.
Axel raised a fist, but he knew it was him because of the full tactical gear.
“Another down.” There had only been two men upstairs so it should be clear.
“Four down here,” Gage murmured.
One left to go. “Let’s try and keep this one alive.” They needed to question someone about the women.
Leighton moved on silent feet to the stairs, heading downward. When he reached the next landing, a man rounded on him from the first landing, pistol raised.
Shit. He fired, hitting the man in center mass. The guy fell like a stone, not even getting a shot off. So much for keeping him alive. “Last one down.”
“Finish sweeping,” Gage said. “I’m doing a search for electronics.”
On the chance a neighbor heard the shots from the tangos, they might need to run sooner than later.
They swept the house methodically, using their NVGs to guide them. The place was bare, with only two beds, and was nothing like Maria had described. The refrigerator was empty as well, which didn’t sit well with him. This wasn’t a place where trafficked women would be kept. They might exploit the women, but she said they’d kept them well fed and had allowed them to exercise.
This house looked like…a trap. And none of the men he’d checked had anything to identify them other than a couple TracFones—aka burners. And Marco wasn’t here.
“I’m going to grab the tracker off the car,” Leighton said as they all convened in the kitchen.
“We’ll take fingerprints, see if we can get any hits on them.”
Leighton nodded, though he had no doubt these men were affiliated with Kuznetsov. He recognized a few of the tattoos. Some were from local New Orleans gangs, but others were clearly Russia based. So maybe Kuznetsov had some of his guys working with locals. Who knew at this point. He took his NVGs off as he headed outside, careful to scan for anyone watching.
He found the tracker exactly where Lucy said she’d put it. As he snagged it, an SUV screeched to a halt in front of the house.
Leighton turned as a side door opened. Through the bushes and fence, a masked man jumped out with an AR-15 in hand.
Heart pounding, he raced down the driveway along the side of the house. “Shooter outside!” he shouted through the ear comm, bracing for a hit.
Right now they needed to get the hell out of here and not have a showdown with however many shooters there might be. Because there could be more backup on the way than just one guy.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Bullets pinged off the fence as he rounded the back of the house. Out of the line of fire, but not out of the woods.
“Retreating,” Savage shouted.
Leighton joined the others in the backyard as they all ran as one cohesive unit toward the back fence line. “That’s more than one shooter,” he snapped out. He would know. Hell, they would all know.
Shouts erupted behind them in a foreign language. Leighton half turned as they reached the fence line to see three men with automatic weapons.
He stopped, braced himself as he raised his weapon and fired. The one on the far left dropped as a bullet slammed into his chest. He stumbled back under the force, but his vest took the hit. Almost simultaneously, the other two men dropped but not before one of them got another round off.
Bullets sliced through the air, pinging off the house and fence in a macabre rhythm.
“Fuck,” Axel gritted out as he gripped his upper arm. Blood spilled over his gloves and down his sleeve.
“We can’t leave a blood trail,” Gage said. “There can’t be evidence we were here.” They’d been careful about wearing masks and gloves.
Leighton heard more shouts from the front yard. Backup had arrived.
Leighton and Savage moved quickly, hoisting Axel up and over. Then the three of them jumped over, moving with ease that came from years of training.
Even through the foliage, they could see four more men racing through the backyard. Holy shit, this was some serious backup. They must have tripped some kind of alarm in the house.
“Run!” Gage pulled out a grenade.
It was a crude way to do it, but the explosion would cover up any blood spatter Axel might have left behind on the fence.
They were all moving even before Gage tossed the grenade. Then he tossed another.
As they sprinted across the neighbor’s grassy yard, an old man stepped out onto the back porch. He took one look at them and raced back inside, slamming the door behind him.
They were silent as they moved toward the front of the yard. They had to abandon their vehicle, assuming it was compromised at this point. It was clean of prints and couldn’t be linked back to them anyway.
Leighton whipped out his burner phone and called Lucy. “Where are you?”
“Same spot. But I thought I heard gunfire. Are you—”
“Meet us on the corner of Eighth and Magnolia,” he snapped out. They raced down the sidewalk, dressed head to toe in tactical gear and looking very much out of place. It was the right time that most people would be inside but they spotted a woman walking a teacup-type dog. She screamed when she saw them, scooping her dog up and running across someone’s yard. The dog barked frantically.
They continued down the sidewalk in single file order. They’d put those guys off long enough with the grenades that they had a decent enough head start, but they needed to get the hell out of here.
As they reached the edge of the end of the street, the other SUV skidded to a halt.
They all dove in, with Leighton taking the front.
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding!” Lucy’s eyes were wide as she looked in the rearview mirror at Axel.
“Turn left here,” Leighton said.
“The hospital’s the other way,” she said even as she made the turn, looking in the rearview mirror at Axel again. He was clutching onto his bleeding arm as Savage tried to inspect it.
“We’re not going to the hospital,” Leighton said, turning back around.
“That’s a lot of blood,” she said hesitantly. “Maybe we should.”
“Toss the tracker,” Gage said. “If they discovered it, they might’ve added something of their own to it just in case.”
Damn it, Leighton should’ve thought of that. He rolled down the window and threw it into oncoming traffic. It would be destroyed soon enough.
“What the heck is going on!” Lucy’s voice trembled as she looked over at him.
“It was a setup. Marco or someone must’ve discovered the tracker and wanted to find out who’d planted it.”
“Unless you set us up,” Savage said quietly from the back.
Before Lucy could respond, Leighton swiveled around. “We’ve been friends for life. But watch your words now. She didn’t set us up.” He knew that in his gut.
“I didn’t do anything,” Lucy snapped out, trembling.
Leighton reached across the center console and squeezed her arm lightly. “Take a right here.”
Savage just grunted in the back.
“It’s highly doubtful she did any of this,” Gage said, looking at the screen of one of the burner phones. “First, one of the men called for backup during our attack. Second, considering Lucy is currently running security scans on her uncle’s image at the casino, that limits the likelihood she’s trying to get us killed. Not to mention I’ve been monitoring all her incoming and outgoing communications.”
“What?” she demanded as Leighton pointed for her to take another turn. “So many questions right now. You’ve been monitoring me?”
“Yes,” Gage said simply.
She let out an annoyed, rage-filled growl. “How do you know about the scans?”
“Leighton told me what he saw on your laptop. Speaking of, we need to get to her condo now. We need to grab the laptop.”
“Why?” she asked, looking at Leighton for confirmation. He nodded, so she took the next turn. “I know a shortcut there,” she murmured to him.
“Because if he even suspects you’re the one who planted the tracker, you’re not going back there,” Leighton said, not needing Gage to answer for him.
“My uncle wouldn’t…” She trailed off, swallowing hard. “He would hurt me,” she whispered. “Oh God, he would kill me.” It was as if it was just dawning on her. Likely she’d already understood that, but knowing something and truly understanding it were two different things.
The man had killed her parents. He wouldn’t balk at killing her.
Her fingers tightened on the wheel as she continued driving, looking a bit as if she was on autopilot.
“Well, I’m gonna live if anyone cares,” Axel muttered from the back seat, more to himself than anyone else, Leighton guessed.
Once they made it to the covered parking lot, he handed her a ball cap and big sunglasses even though it was night out and this was her building.
“Gage, can you—”
“Already on it,” Gage said, working on his phone. He’d be able to corrupt the security cameras here easily. “You’ve got about ten minutes to grab what you need. We shouldn’t be here longer than that.”
In case someone was in the garage and happened to notice Lucy, he wanted her unrecognizable. Because if her uncle didn’t know she was involved with planting the tracker, he didn’t want Kuznetsov to find out inadvertently.
Though after tonight, that all might be a moot point. The man could know and could already be after her.