He crawled to the door, checked the hallway, and then rose and ran to the family room doorway. Carefully he edged into the room. Hernando lay crumpled on the floor on his back. The man had wounds in the chest and neck, his eyes open in death.
Steel ran back to the bedroom. Christie was standing, her gun aimed at Garcia.
Steel drew his blade and knelt on Garcia’s wounded shoulder, bending over him and pressing his knife against the man’s cheek. “Name everyone who killed the DEA informant, Marita, last year,” he whispered.
“Go to hell.”
He pushed the edge of the knife into Garcia’s face until a drop of blood rolled down the side of his cheek. “Do you want your children to see you cut up like her?” He put more weight on Garcia’s shoulder. “Or have your children hear their father screaming for mercy?”
Garcia gasped in pain. “I’ll tell you if you let me live.”
Removing his knee, Steel pressed the tip of the knife against the bottom of Garcia’s lower eyelid. “You get once chance, then you lose an eye.”
“Vincente and Diego Alvarez and their men,” he whispered.
“How are Vincente and Diego related to the cartel?”
“They’re brothers and run the Alvarez cartel. Gustavo was their nephew.”
“Where are they now?”
“In the U.S. somewhere. They’re going to contact me.”
Steel didn’t detect a lie in his voice, face, or eyes. “Anyone else take part in Marita’s death?”
“No.”
“You forgot to name yourself and Hernando.”
“I have money. Whatever you want.”
Steel recalled the sickening photo of Marita that the Colombian had sent him. He was aware of Christie watching him from the corner as she kept an eye on Garcia’s family. The children were sobbing as the mother tried to comfort them with soft words.
He didn’t want the children here, but he had no choice. Rising to his feet, he put the knife away and drew the Glock.
“There’s no need.” Garcia gaped up at him.
Steel put two bullets into him. He glanced at Christie. “We have to get out of here.”
She nodded, her face taut.
They went down the steps as fast as they could, and then through the living room toward the back door. In case any neighbors had reported shots fired, Steel didn’t want to run into police in the driveway.
The moment he stepped outside, guns were pointed at him from the corners of the house and from behind trees surrounding the patio.
CHAPTER 11
Steel kept his gun lowered and didn’t move. All the individuals facing him and Christie wore black hoods, black fatigues, and held silenced machine guns. They didn’t look related to the cartel. Maybe military, but he couldn’t see the connection. Again he wondered if the Colombian had sold them out somehow.
“Face the wall, hands behind your back.”
Steel let the Rattler hang from the carry strap, turned around with Christie, and did as requested. Their guns were taken, along with their knives and goggles, and their wrists were bound with zip ties. They found his OTF knife, and someone dug the car keys out of his pocket.
Then they were pushed into the woods, heading east, one man ahead of them, four following. Before they left the patio, Steel saw two women and a man go into the house.
No sirens. No one had called the police. But five trained armed men made an escape attempt too risky.
The moon made the walk easy. And the Mexican spotted owl was still calling. Steel found it odd to hear a small gentle bird call after they had just participated in violence. Nature had always cleansed him after Blackhood missions, but that quality eluded him now as they walked captive toward another unknown threat.
He would have to wait for a better opportunity. As he walked he considered what had happened in the house. They had killed five men to save Harry. The killing gave him an empty feeling.
He had no regrets, especially for what these men had done to Marita—and probably other women along the way. But he didn’t want to keep killing. No matter what the reason. This was far from over and he desperately wanted out of the mess.
Part of him felt tainted, dirty, going back to this kind of life. He wouldn’t be surprised if it hit Christie just as hard. Glancing back at her, he felt shame that he had allowed this to happen to the woman he loved.
He glanced up at the shining moon. Oddly it gave him hope. Maybe they were walking toward a way out of all this.
They walked about a mile before they reached a different section of the road. A white cargo van was waiting, along with a black SUV. Both vehicles had drivers in the front seats. They were motioned inside the van. Bench seats lined both walls, and he sat by Christie on one side.
Four hooded men sat on the opposite bench, their guns aimed at them. The fifth took the passenger seat in the SUV. Steel guessed the SUV would scout for anyone following them. They were being careful. No one spoke. Christie pressed her shoulder into his. Her presence grounded him.
A half hour later the van stopped. They all piled out and walked into the front door of a house. Led across a living room to a study, they were motioned into two wooden chairs positioned in front of a desk. A stocky, six-foot-tall man dressed in black fatigues and wearing a black hood stood behind the desk.
Steel guessed the man behind the desk was an officer. While the four men stood at attention behind them, Steel sat down with Christie.
The man behind the desk took a phone call, saying, “Understood, proceed as planned.” He then turned his attention to them. “Take off their hoods.”
Their hoods were pulled off by the soldiers and the officer regarded them intently. “Names.”
Steel sat back. “Who’s asking?”
The man leaned on the desk with his hands. “I was just informed that you killed five men, which means prison time if I release you to the police. Don’t waste my time.”
Steel thought about it. The man wanted something and didn’t want to kill them. At least not yet. “Jack Steel.”
“Christie Thorton.”
“Why did you kill Garcia?” The man's tone was matter-of-fact.
“We’re being blackmailed,” said Steel. “A Colombian man kidnapped Christie’s brother, Harry. He said he’ll kill Harry if we don’t follow through on a hit list of Colombian cartel men that killed his compatriot.”
The officer's eyes widened. “What’s the blackmailer’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
“The compatriot’s name?”
Steel didn’t answer.
“Why you?” persisted the officer.
Steel sat back. “I’m not answering any more questions until I know who you are and what you want.”
“U.S. Army.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Then get General Morris on the line and he’ll vouch for me.”
“I’m sure he will. Give me what you know or I’m turning you over to the police.”
Steel didn’t believe him. “It’s above your pay grade.”
“Let’s find out.” The man pulled out his phone and punched a number. “Sir, Jack Steel doesn’t believe I have clearance to hear why he killed our target.” He put the phone on speaker and set it on the desk. “You’re on speaker, sir.”
Steel recognized General Morris’ voice. Morris had supervised the last Blackhood Op that he had participated in, the one which had resulted in Marita’s death.
“Major Steel, please cooperate and tell Colonel Jeffries whatever he wants to know. He has clearance. And Colonel Jeffries, Jack Steel is the best operative we ever had in Blackhood Ops, so trust him and help him.” There was a slight pause. “Major Steel, this call never happened. Nor did your conversation with Colonel Jeffries.”
“Understood, sir.” Colonel Jeffries took off his hood. Black, half bald, about forty. A n
o-nonsense air about him. He gestured to his soldiers. “Remove their zip ties and leave us alone.”
The soldiers cut their zip ties, left the room, and shut the door.
Colonel Jeffries focused on Steel. “I repeat, why are you being blackmailed?”
“Harry’s kidnappers consider me responsible for a woman’s death during a Blackhood Op over a year ago.” Steel paused. “Her name was Marita Lopez. She was a DEA informant. General Morris supervised the Op. What is the Army doing here?”
Jeffries sat down. “Two of my men doing surveillance on Garcia alerted me that you were attacking him, so we came. Too late to save Garcia though. You just screwed up six months of research and planning on Rodrigo Garcia aka Garcia Rincón. Now we’ve got a problem. You’re going to help solve it for me.”
“Maybe,” said Steel.
Jeffries gave him a hard stare. “After you killed Gustavo Alvarez last year, his cartel kept key cartel members out of the news and off the grid. They didn’t want the U.S. government to target any more of their senior personnel or even know who to target. We believe the current cartel leadership continued Gustavo’s plan for retribution against the U.S. by supporting a splinter ISIS terrorist cell.
“We believe the ISIS cell is already in the U.S. And we believe Garcia knew who they were and was going to contact them. You killed him before he made contact. He was the only high-ranking member of the Alvarez cartel that we’ve been able to identify.”
Steel was glad to hear Jeffries verify that Garcia was part of the Alvarez cartel. Christie’s expression betrayed relief too.
“We have two more names,” said Steel. “Garcia gave them up. Vincente and Diego Alvarez. Brothers. They helped kill Marita, and Garcia said they’re also running the cartel now. He said they’re in the U.S. so they’ll have aliases.”
Jeffries’ eyes shone. “Excellent. We’ll see if DEA can track down their photographs.”
“Can you help us find my brother Harry?” asked Christie.
Jeffries shook his head. “We can’t do a military search for him in Colorado.”
“Keep it low key.” Steel looked at him. “You need our help, we need yours.”
“And what are you going to do for me?” Jeffries eyebrows hunched.
Steel thought on that. “If the Colombian sends us after Vincente and Diego, we’ll give you their location.”
Jeffries waved a hand. “I need more than that. I need you to get the ISIS information from the cartel leadership.”
“There’s no guarantee the Colombian will send us after Vincente or Diego,” said Steel.
Jeffries nodded. “No, but it’s highly likely, and highly likely they are also part of the ISIS plan.”
“If we find Vincente and Diego, why can’t you deal with them?” asked Christie.
“Blackhood Ops haven’t been run for over a year.” Jeffries grimaced. “The president revoked covert Blackhood Op missions targeting terrorists because of the mess in Hawaii last year. Thus we can’t kill these men on U.S. soil without a trial. Any other organization we bring in will have protocols about arrest and legalities.
“We just want them dead. And we don’t want to wait for them to carry out terrorist actions to do it. If they’re meeting with ISIS operatives, that’s all the proof we need. You two are sanctioned to kill the involved cartel people and any ISIS operatives on sight.”
Steel frowned. “How can you sanction us?”
Jeffries gave a grim smile. “You’re not U.S. Army. We’ll sanction you and not turn you over to the police. In exchange we’ll help find Harry.”
“An illegal Blackhood Op.” Steel didn’t like it but found it ironic that the Colombian had called the Op Retribution.
“You’re blackmailing us too.” Christie glared at Jeffries.
Jeffries shrugged. “You stepped into someplace you didn’t belong.”
“We had no choice!” Christie said bitterly.
Jeffries crossed his arms. “And you still don’t.”
“What if the police catch us?” asked Steel.
“You’re on your own. We can provide resources, but that’s it.”
Steel watched Jeffries carefully, wondering if he was withholding information. “Do you know what the ISIS cell is planning?”
“No, but we expect acts of violence mirroring what they’ve done in Europe and Great Britain. They want to prove they can hit us just as easily as Europe.”
Christie leaned forward. “We want you to find Harry before his kidnappers hurt him.”
Jeffries shrugged. “We’ll try. No guarantees.”
“He’s in the cargo bed of a white pickup with a bed cover, we think headed north of Boulder.” She added, “Marita might be the kidnapper’s daughter or sister.”
Jeffries stood and sat on the edge of his desk. “We’ll contact DEA and see what they can find out about her family.”
“What’s going to happen to Garcia’s wife and kids?” asked Christie.
Jeffries tapped the desk. “Witness protection. The wife was told that if she chooses to go back to the cartel, word would be leaked that she sold out her husband. I’ve already received confirmation that she’s accepted our offer.”
Steel felt relieved over that, but another idea bothered him. “What if we can’t get the cartel people to talk?”
Jeffries didn't hesitate. “You’re sanctioned for whatever it takes.”
“Torture.” He didn’t like it. “If we get the ISIS information from the next target on the list, we’ll trade it for Harry’s return.”
Jeffries' voice was sharp. “You’re not in any position to barter.”
Steel ignored Jeffries’ glare. “The kidnapper might have seen you take us and might ask about you.”
Jeffries straightened. “Tell him you don’t know who we are, but that we’re blackmailing you to kill the cartel leadership too. Let him come up with his own answers.”
Christie lifted her chin. “If the cartel finds out about us, we want witness protection for us, Steel’s daughter and ex-wife, and my brothers and parents.”
Steel didn’t want to lose his house or hide the rest of his life. However the desire to protect Rachel, Carol, and Christie evaporated those concerns.
“Done.” Jeffries returned to his chair. “Anything else?”
Steel thought about it. “Get rid of the guns we used and give us two more silenced Rattlers, two silenced Glocks and SIG Sauers, and a silenced Heckler & Koch G28 sniper rifle, with extra mags for everything. No serial numbers. We could also use a soft-sided backpack to carry the G28 and other gear.” The G28 was light, short, and very accurate, and would give them an edge in long-distance situations.
“Waterproof ponchos with hoods,” added Christie. “Dark colors.”
Jeffries lifted a hand to her. “Do you want our medic to examine you?”
Christie blushed. “It’s nothing.”
Steel leaned forward, and then stood up to inspect her. He had to walk to her other side to pull her jacket back enough to see that her blouse was bloodied near her lower back. His eyes widened. She had kept the wound hidden from him. Its location suggested she could have died.
“Yes,” he said curtly. “We want a medic.”
Jeffries strode to the door and gave orders for a medic and the weapons.
Christie looked up at Steel. “I’m fine.”
“Let’s see it.”
She lifted her blouse.
A knife wound. Steel was shaken and sat down. She should be out hiking with her brothers, enjoying life, not caught up in a life or death blackmail ordeal.
“It’s nothing, Jack.”
He couldn’t respond. He could just as easily be staring at her corpse in the woods now.
A female medic arrived to clean and bandage Christie’s wound. Jeffries watched from his chair.
>
Finished, the medic said, “I put antibiotics and butterfly bandages on it, but if the cut was any deeper you would have needed stitches. If you strain it open, you might end up needing stitches anyway.”
The medic handed over a few small packets. “Painkillers.”
“Thank you,” said Christie.
“My pleasure, miss.” The medic left.
Jeffries stood. “Your car is outside, along with your weapons and gear. I suggest you get on the road and wait for the kidnapper to contact you. We’ll be in touch.”
“The Colombian said we’re on our own,” said Steel. “If anyone is seen contacting us, he’ll kill Harry.”
Jeffries handed him a card with a solitary phone number on it. “Memorize it and hand it back.”
Steel saw the number, handed the card to Christie, and she glanced at it before returning it to Jeffries.
“What phone is he contacting you on?” asked Jeffries.
Steel recited the number and Jeffries wrote it down.
“Good luck.” Jeffries straightened. “Your country is counting on you.”
Steel wanted to swear at the colonel, but let it go. All he could envision was Christie lying dead in the woods. There had to be a way to get her out. At least they had help searching for Harry, but he didn’t like it that the help entailed more threats.
He stood. “Do you have any timetable for the expected ISIS terrorist activity?”
“Forty-eight hours.”
CHAPTER 12
Carlos had no idea who the men were that took Steel and Christie away. They were organized and moved with military precision. U.S. Army or some other undercover group.
His own government had branches that operated in secret. Maybe they had been watching Garcia. But why? It could complicate things. His oldest son, Mario, was on the road, watching Steel’s car, but he wouldn’t send him to follow. Mario had military experience, but it was still too risky.
When the three soldiers exited the back door of the house with Garcia’s wife and children, he put away the night glasses and climbed down the tree. His boots had simple tree climbing spurs attached to them to make it easier, and he had a waist lanyard wrapped around the tree for support.
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