“Not equipped for that,” said Marco. “It is dark and we should have no problem getting to the hotel unseen. I want you and Delano to climb up to the sixth floor balcony where the honeymoon suite is. That is where Peppe’s wife and kids are. Once the family is safe, we go in after Peppe.”
“OK,” said Sergio. “What’s the plan for getting Peppe?”
“They will probably hide him behind hostages, so we kill the hostages. They won’t be expecting that and it will give us an advantage.”
“Sweet,” said Sergio.
Marco addressed the team.
“I don’t care who dies to get Peppe free. We’ll teach those chili shitters not to screw with the Santini family. If you see any of the kidnappers, shoot them dead.”
Nods of acknowledgement came from each man.
Two black Chevy Suburbans drove up to the plane.
“The cars are here,” said Louie.
“Thanks,” said Marco. “OK, everyone suit up and into the vehicles. They dragged the large carry-alls from the plane’s cargo hatch and unloaded the riot gear suits. The suits were Damascus Flexforce similar to those used by police forces around the world. They provide substantial protection against blunt force trauma with hard-shell body panels covering chest, back, forearms, thigh and knees. Each member of the squad selected their pre-arranged suit that was tailored to their size. Another carry-all contained weapons and ordinance. Sig-Sauer P226 pistols with Guide Rod lasers, carbine variants of the AR-15 assault rifle, Mk II fragmentation grenades and M84 stun grenades.
Each SUV carried four men with ordinance in the back; Marco drove one vehicle and Sergio the other. Marco punched the hotel location into the navigation system and the two vehicles peeled out of the airport, heading south. The customs official picked up his cell phone and keyed in some numbers.
“Alberto?”
“Yes.”
“They’re on their way.”
“How many?”
“Eight, heavily armed with riot gear.”
“Thanks.”
* * * *
Alberto punched the ‘end’ button and summoned his men. They had anticipated a rescue attempt and now it was confirmed. His main task now was to empty the hotel to prevent any innocent people getting harmed. The bus he had arranged was sitting outside with the engine running. Fortunately, being off-season, there were only 32 guests, including Peppe and his family, and 12 staff. All the guests and staff, except Peppe and his family, were ushered outside to the bus and they boarded it in an orderly fashion. They loaded Peppe and his family into a GMC Denali with one of Alberto’s men. Under the circumstances, Alberto thought it wise to keep the staff and other guests separate from the Santinis. Another of Alberto’s men guarded the guests as the bus eased out of the hotel entrance, followed by the Denali, and proceeded north toward Hwy 34. They had rented a large meeting room in another hotel in Barrio Santa Lucia about 12 km away where they would stay until the situation at the Hotel Playa Hermosa was resolved. Alberto now had three men to help him stage the reception for Santini’s men. He had no disillusions about the type of men Santini would send on a team to rescue his son. It is unlikely that they would be concerned about collateral damage, hence the decision to evacuate the hotel. It was about a 2-hour drive from the airport, so he would expect them around 10 p.m. He had two men with a barricade on the road to Playa Hermosa from the NE and another two men on the SW approach. He decided to remove the barricades and move these men back to the hotel. Each approach was visible from the ocean-view balconies, so Alberto placed a man as a lookout for the two SUVs.
One idea Alberto considered was to just leave the hotel—the rescue squad would find it empty and that should be that. However, the squad would try to find out where the occupants had gone and Alberto decided it was better to eliminate or subdue the squad as a sign of superiority over the Santinis. The plan was to allow the rescue squad to enter the hotel as it would be easier to contain them there. Although they could try to gun them down outside, there were too many places for concealment and, whereas they may get a few of the men, the others could essentially mount a siege or worse, set fire to the hotel, forcing him and his men out.
Alberto’s ear bud crackled as the lookout announced approaching vehicles from the NE.
“Two sets of headlights,” the lookout said. “Can’t determine vehicle type yet.”
A moment later the lookout said, “They’re slowing down. Lights now turned off. Two large black SUVs.”
“That’s them,” said Alberto. “Take up your positions.”
Counting the men from the barricades, Alberto had eight, including himself. The hotel had a main entrance door and one through the restaurant. There was also a door at the rear used mainly for staff and deliveries. All the ground floor conference rooms had doors leading directly to a seating area, but they had panic hardware and could not be opened from the exterior. The only other door was at the end of the ground floor corridor, into which the stairwell exited. Alberto placed two men in the ground floor corridor—one in the exit stairway and one at the lobby end, hidden in a service room. Alberto and one man, Daniel, staked out the main lobby, Daniel concealing himself behind the reception counter and Alberto in the concierge’s luggage storage room. Two men guarded the rear staff entrance, two the ground floor corridor while the last two covered the restaurant.
From Alberto’s vantage point, he could see anyone approaching the main entrance through the expanse of glass windows and doors.
* * * *
“That’s the hotel ahead,” said Marco as he extinguished the car’s lights. Sergio followed suit. He touched his throat mic and said, “Sergio. You and Delano secure the sixth floor honeymoon suite.”
Sergio and Delano exited the vehicle and opened the rear door to gather their climbing gear. They had ropes and cloth-covered grappling hooks, but also selected a boat ladder that had two loops on the top. They planned to loop the ladder on the balcony railings and make their way to the 6th floor, floor by floor. They made their way to the end of the hotel—the honeymoon suite had two balconies facing the ocean at the far end of the hotel. Sergio looped the end of the ladder on the second floor balcony railing and climbed it to the balcony. Delano followed suit and they repeated the process until they stood on one of the honeymoon suite balconies. Sergio tried one door and found it locked. Delano tried the other door and it slid open. They each stood beside the door opening listening for any movement inside. They heard nothing. Sergio nodded to Delano, and he opened the door sufficiently to ease his heavy frame through, parting the sheer curtains and stepping into the room. He was in a living room furnished with a large sofa, two side chairs and a coffee table. A flat-screen TV filled most of one wall and a large painting the other. Attached was a dining area behind which was the kitchen. The kitchen door led into a corridor with three doors; the entrance and two bedrooms. The men stole their way along the corridor and opened the first bedroom door and peered inside. A king-size bed occupied the left wall and a tallboy the right. There was no one in the bed. They crossed the room to check out the bathroom, but it too was empty. They retraced their footsteps to the corridor and entered the second bedroom. It had two queen-size beds on the left wall and a similar tallboy on the right. The beds were not occupied and nor was the bathroom. Sergio touched his throat mic.
“No one here Marco.”
“What?”
“There’s no one here. We’ve checked the whole suite and it’s empty.”
“Shit,” spat Marco. “Where the hell is Peppe’s family?”
“No idea. The whole place seems like a bloody morgue. It’s only 10:30 and there doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”
Marco noticed this too as he walked around to the pool and restaurant. Lights were on inside the restaurant, but nobody appeared to be there. There were cars in the parking lot but no lights showed from any of the suites. He could see the lobby was illuminated, but no one was at the registration
desk.
“I don’t like this,” he said to his men. “Something ain't right.”
“Maybe they moved everyone somewhere else,” Sergio said.
“Everyone back to the vehicles,” Marco ordered. "Sergio and Delano get back down here."
Marco pulled out his sat phone and called Lorenzo.
“We’re at the hotel and checked out the honeymoon suite where Peppe’s family was supposed to be. It is empty. The hotel seems deserted. We think they may have suspected a rescue attempt and moved everyone.”
“Damn!” said Lorenzo.
“What do we do now boss?”
“Make sure the hotel is empty, then call me back.”
“Sure boss.”
“OK,” Marco said as he put away the sat phone. “The boss wants us to check out the hotel and make sure it is empty. Proceed with caution, it could be a trap.”
The squad chambered rounds into their pistols and left the rifles as they were not the weapon of choice in close-quarters combat. Marco sent two men to skirt the hotel and make their way to the rear staff entrance while he sent another two men to the restaurant entrance.
“Sergio. I want you and Joe to cover the ground floor conference room doors—try to find one unlocked. Delano and I will handle the main entrance.”
Marco and Delano looked into the main entrance but saw no one. They eased their way up the front steps and approached the door, which opened as soon as they got close to it. They stood on either side of the door, peering in. Marco, gun out-held in a two-hand stance, entered the lobby, swinging the gun from side to side, the red laser penetrating the brightly-lit lobby. Delano followed behind using a similar stance.
* * * *
Alberto saw two men pass by the entrance carrying a short ladder with hoops on the end. He realized they were going for the honeymoon suite from the outside and gain access from a higher floor. However, they could only get down using the elevator or stairs, and his men covered both from the lobby. Once they realized that there was no one in the honeymoon suite, they may sense a trap. Men milled around outside and one was using his phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. When the man stopped talking on the phone, they all went back to their vehicles. Maybe they sense a trap, Alberto thought.
"Guys have riot gear,” he whispered into his mic, “so aim at the joints of the suits…arms, legs, crotch, neck. Centre mass hits won't be effective.”
It was not long before he saw men approaching the main entrance while others made their way around the building. The doors opened when the motion sensor detected someone close to them and Alberto watched as two men entered, brandishing automatic pistols. Alberto's men had instructions not to open fire until they receive word from him—the raiders must be inside the hotel before being challenged. His ear bud came to life as one of his men at the rear entrance signified that two men had entered. Later, he got a similar notification from the restaurant. He awaited word from the men covering the ground floor corridor as he watched the intruders scour the lobby and make their way to the stairs. The word came and Alberto advised everyone to challenge the intruders.
“Freeze,” Alberto ordered. Marco turned and fired several shots in Alberto's direction. He ducked back into the baggage storage room as bullets showered splintered wood and plaster on him. The lobby then erupted in gunfire as Daniel opened fire. Alberto also opened fire on the two men caught in the middle of the lobby with no cover. Both men went down and Alberto slowly advanced keeping his pistol pointed at them. Daniel emerged from behind the reception counter keeping his gun trained on the downed men. One lay still while the other was writhing in agony. Alberto kneeled by the still man, checked for a pulse and found none. Blood oozed from a neck wound.
“Dead,” he said to Daniel.
He pulled the face mask and helmet off and reeled. It was the man who shot his father. He recalled the name as Marco.
One down, he said to himself. He wondered if Sergio was part of the team.
Daniel pulled out a pair of plasticuffs and secured the hands of the injured man after removing his face mask. Gunfire sounded from other parts of the hotel as his men engaged the rescue squad.
* * * *
Ruben and Rodrigo covered the restaurant area and watched as two men covertly entered through the glass doors that opened when approached. The men scanned the eatery as they inched their way into the restaurant, their guns’ red lasers scanning the room. One skirted the left of the room, the other the right. When they were completely in the room, Ruben stepped from his cover and challenged them.
“Freeze,” he shouted.
Both dropped to their knees and let off a barrage of bullets in the direction of Ruben. Rodrigo fired at them from the other side of the room, dividing their targets. Neither Ruben nor Rodrigo had a shot as the men hid behind the restaurant furniture. Ruben did a barrel role and flattened himself on the floor. He could see one man through the myriad of chair and table legs and fired three shots. There was a yell to signify he had found his mark. The other man was close to the kitchen and darted toward it. Rodrigo fired at him and the man fired back, hitting Rodrigo in the left arm. Rodrigo cried out and dropped his weapon so he could clutch his arm. Ruben unloaded his gun at the man's legs and some shots must have found their mark, because he crashed to the floor before reaching the kitchen.
Ruben secured the injured men and then attended to Rodrigo, who had his right hand clasped onto his left bicep, blood seeping through his fingers.
“You OK?” he said.
“Just a flesh wound, but it hurts like hell.”
“Ruben opened one of his pockets, withdrew a field dressing and applied it to Rodrigo’s arm.
“Report,” Alberto said into his mic.
“Two men down in the restaurant. Rodrigo took a hit, but he seems OK.”
“Thanks Ruben.”
* * * *
Nicolas and Manuel covered the staff entrance and watched as the door slowly opened. First one, then another man entered. Nicolas, standing behind the door, crept up and smashed his pistol on the back of the last man's neck. The riot gear he was wearing had protection pads on just about everything but the joints and the blow did not provide the desired effect. The man swung around, gun in hand, and Nicolas had to parry the man’s gun arm while he delivered a crushing blow to the man’s face with his gun. Again, the protection afforded by the riot gear diminished the blow and the man staggered backward, but recovered and levelled his gun at Nicolas. By this time, however, Nicolas had recovered his stance and fired several shots aimed at the joints in the suit. The man dropped to the floor screaming in agony. Meanwhile, the second man had turned and trained his gun on Nicolas. Manuel fired several shots at the second man that were absorbed by the bullet-proof panels of his suit. The man ran toward the staff washroom and entered the ‘Ladies’ ducking from Manuel’s bullets.
Alberto’s voice sounded in his ear bud, “Report”
“Nicolas here. Have one man down and one holed up in a staff washroom.”
“Break down the door and throw in a stun grenade,” said Alberto. “That should get him out.”
Nicolas did just that—opened the door and threw in the grenade. The man came running out with his hands raised. The grenade exploded, propelling the man to the floor with the concussion.
* * * *
Adrian watched as the exit door to the ground floor corridor opened and a man’s head peered in, then ducked back out. A few seconds later, the head appeared again, and the door opened further to allow him access to the corridor. Another man followed, both with guns extended. They had no cover as they crept along the corridor, their backs to the wall. Hugo hid himself in the exit stairway at the far end of the corridor and Adrian at the lobby entrance. Adrian cracked the door open and said, “Drop your guns!”
The men turned and ran back down the corridor when Hugo exposed himself and fired two shots over their heads—it was not advisable to shoot at the men b
ecause he may hit Adrian. The men stopped, dropped their weapons and thrust their hands in the air.
Adrian heard Alberto’s call for a report.
“Adrian reporting. Both men in the corridor have surrendered.”
“Great,” said Alberto. “That’s all eight. Bring the bodies and the live ones into the lobby area. I want to take a picture to send to Lorenzo.”
Alberto's team hustled Santini’s men into the lobby, plasticuffs securing their hands. Two men were dead and another seriously wounded. Alberto checked the faces of all the intruders.
“So, Mr. Patrucci,” he said to Sergio. “I know I asked Lorenzo to send me the bastards that killed my father, but I wasn’t expecting him to send a whole team.”
Sergio’s face showed fear when he said, “I didn’t kill your father; it was Marco who pulled the trigger.”
“While you were getting touchy feely with my mother.”
Sergio was sweating now and shaking, suspecting that he would die.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Sergio said. “I know that doesn’t make up for losing your father, but nothing's going to bring him back.”
Alberto smashed him in the face with his pistol. Sergio spat out a broken tooth along with bloodied saliva. Alberto then walked away.
“Line them up. Dead ones on the floor and live ones standing behind them.”
The men were shuffled into position behind the corpses. Alberto said, “Smile,” then snapped a picture with his smart phone. He checked Marco’s phone for text messages from Lorenzo and found a number. He used this number to text Lorenzo the picture, with the caption: Thank you for sending the men who killed my father.
* * * *
Lorenzo fumed when he received the text message and a picture of his rescue team either dead or trussed up. This was not going well, and he was nowhere near getting his son back. It was time to initiate plan B, but that would require paying Alberto the ransom sum first. Now he heeded Kyle’s suggestion to bargain with him and reduce the amount. He had nothing to lose to try.
The Santini Vendetta Page 6