“What?”
“Carry your shield, or go home on it.” Evan turned around and faced the kid with the shotgun. He sidestepped so that he was protecting Roger’s back and blocking the room. The kid stood partway in the hall. His eyes were glazed from a mixture of not enough sleep and too much meth. He had sores on his face from picking at scabs, and his fingernails were dirty and worn down.
“Turn back around, bitch!” the kid said.
Evan stepped forward slightly and spoke quickly to the gangster. “It’s not too late to save yourself. Run!”
“What?”
The voices in the hall grew louder, and Evan knew it was now or never.
He heard someone down the hall yell, “There is a fire. Everyone needs to leave the building!”
For a second the kid was distracted.
Evan leapt forward and pushed the gun out of the way just as the kid squeezed the trigger.
Boom!
The buckshot went into the wall and floor. Evan yanked the shotgun from the kid’s grasp and pistol-whipped him in the face with the stock.
The kid collapsed and gripped his broken nose.
“Get!” Evan yelled.
The teenager stumbled to his feet and tugged on his pants to pull them up as he ran.
“Hey you! Stop!” Evan heard more voices in the hall and spun back around.
The gangster in front of Roger squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. The weapon was still on Safe.
Reo dropped his phone and shot at Roger as he backed up. The bullet went into the back of his last gangbanger by accident, and the kid went down without so much as a scream. Roger moved as quickly as he could to shield Tanya.
Reo aimed the weapon at Roger’s head and stumbled, shooting into the ceiling. Tanya suddenly rallied energy, as if she had been storing it up for one last explosion. She stood up and charged at Reo, who had tripped over an electrical cord and was backed up against the window. He still had not hit a target, and he shot one more time. A bullet hit the TV set.
Tanya crashed into Reo with all the force she could muster. She used her legs and core to rip herself free from the chair and drive every ounce of her body into Reo.
Roger grabbed Reo’s gun hand just as Tanya slammed him into the window.
The window cracked, the curtains came down, and the chair splintered.
Reo screamed.
Evan stepped into the hall to see who was yelling.
Roger helped Tanya get to her feet. She was remarkably calm.
Reo banged his head on a corner table and then struggled to get up. He put his back to the window. He looked shocked and beaten.
Roger put Reo’s gun in his pocket and spoke over his shoulder to Evan, who was in the hall talking to someone rapidly. “Hey, lad, who are ya talkin’ to?”
“Hotel security! They say we have to evacuate! There are terrorists or something in the building!”
Evan had closed his jacket and had no weapons near him. He stood in the hall and watched as a man approached. He was wearing a suit and carried a radio.
“I heard a gunshot, saw that kid. What is going on?” the security guard asked, clearly fearful for his own life.
Roger cursed and looked at the room. How would they explain all this?
“Hey, tell them to go to the tenth floor, room 1025!” Roger yelled.
“Wait here, lass!” Roger squeezed Tanya’s arms and looked in her eyes. “OK, Tanya?” He handed her the gun and then pointed to Reo, who was leaning against the window, trying to stop his bleeding. Large cracks that resembled a spider web ran throughout the window.
Roger stepped out into the hall next to Evan and closed the door slightly.
The hotel security man looked suspiciously at them. “My God! What happened to you two? Are you OK?” The man began to speak into his radio. “I am calling police.”
Evan stopped him gently. “No, no, we are OK. We were on the tenth floor when the shooting started! Then we came down here to my girlfriend’s room to check on her. There are bodies in the hall, in the stairwell!” Evan pointed down the hall.
“You two need to come with me. The police and fire department are going floor to floor, making sure the building is secure.”
Evan just now realized that the fire alarm had stopped. He spoke quickly as Roger looked up and down the hall. “Look, how do we get out of here, fast and unseen? We have someone famous with us, and, well, she can’t be seen. We are actually her security detail. Famous American actress!”
The security guard looked confused and held his radio in his hands.
“Why do you look like you have been fighting? And I know you have guns. I have none.” The man held up his hands. “The police have to say it’s safe first. They are on the second floor still.”
“I get it. We are doing our jobs, just like you! Mexico is an awesome place, and we want to come back. Look, our client, she is hysterical!”
“Um, I…I think you all need doctors,” the guard said. The blood had drained from his face as he tried to process what he was seeing.
“Elevators?”
The security guard was in his midfifties and balding, and he had a worried, pockmarked face. He was a rules kind of guy, and anything outside of the box was new territory for him. Evan could sense his confusion and fear. The guard wanted someone to tell him what to do.
“We have rules, procedures. This is Mexico City, not the wild west. I…I—”
Roger pushed Evan out of the way and faced the shocked security guard. He held a roll of one-hundred-dollar bills under the man’s nose, as if they were smelling salts.
No one spoke.
Suddenly, the security guard nodded, took the money, and pocketed it. Now he was back in his box.
“Oh! The staff elevator. Come with me, amigos. We go right out to the parking garage. No one see you.” He smiled.
Evan smiled at the security guard and then glanced at Roger with concern. “Wait here.”
Evan stepped into the room, closed the door, and moved quickly over to Tanya. She stood frozen, as if in a trance or in a dream state. She wasn’t shaking, crying, or showing any emotion.
“WTF! Where did Reo go?”
Evan stepped past her and looked out the window. Hot, dry air and a breeze from outside had caused the air conditioner to kick on. Evan could see crowds of people and vehicles below. The smog and the noise of Mexico City invaded the room.
He put his hands on Tanya’s shoulders. “What?”
“I pushed him,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Wow. Tanya, honey, we gotta go!”
“OK.”
“Now, what was this about a thumb drive?”
Tanya shrugged. “Made it up. Let’s go.”
Victor Rosa walked out of the Café de Mexico with enough food to feed an army. He had three plastic bags in his right hand and two in his left. He was talking to his fifth wife on his Bluetooth headset. He made his way through the parking garage and paused near his truck. There was a young woman pacing back and forth near his Toyota Land Cruiser, talking on a cell phone.
Suddenly, she hung up and looked at him. “Sir, are you Detective Rosa?”
“Yes.”
“Glad to see you!” The girl was extremely attractive and looked as if she had just been assaulted.
“Honey, I will call you back. No, really I can’t explain this one. Later.”
Victor fished for his keys and hit the button to unlock his truck. “And you are?”
“Maria. Oh, look, here they come!” The girl pointed behind Victor.
He spun to look and then realized what was going on. He set the food down and watched in dumbfounded wonderment the sight before him.
Evan was carrying Tanya, who looked as if she had been thrown from a moving vehicle. Evan did not look much better, with a weapon slung over his back and plaster dust covering his face and head. Roger had more bruises and cuts than Victor could count yet waved cheerfully.
“Victor, this is Mari
a,” Roger said. “We’re taking her home.” He pointed to the young lady who stood near his Land Cruiser.
Maria offered to take the bags from him and loaded them in the Land Cruiser. She was very helpful.
“Somebody scratched this Corvette!” Maria exclaimed as she opened the passenger door.
“We have to go, Victor!” Evan blurted.
The four people slowly and painfully got into Victor’s truck without so much as a word. They all smelled like sweat and smoke.
Victor quietly got into the driver’s seat. He had almost not noticed the fire trucks and police cars with the arrival of his friends.
“You two cause all this?” He waved his hand around.
“No, the Russian did. You better make up a good story to tell the media. Your cop is dead, Reo is dead, and there are a bunch of dead gangsters.”
“I see, my friends.” Victor considered what they said as he backed out slowly. “Quite a mess.”
No one spoke as Victor calmly drove out of the parking garage, flashed his badge, and made it through the blockade of emergency vehicles. He waved at some of the group supervisors that he knew and drove away.
“Sooo,” Victor started, “did Reo have anything to say?”
“Um, yes.” Evan coughed. “He wanted to know who scratched his Corvette! Then he jumped out the freaking window!”
Roger tried not to laugh and squeezed his eyes shut.
Tanya spoke to no one and pretended to check her nails.
“You know, the smell of that food is making me very hungry!” Maria stated.
“Aye. Bunch o’ comedians,” Roger grumbled.
CHAPTER 27
“The Plane, the Plane”
Private Island Plutarco, 2100 Hours
Jorge Valdez was so glad to finally leave the Happy Mermaid. The ship was brought into dock alongside three smaller yachts at the island’s concrete-and-wood marina. A sizable seawall had been built to shield prying eyes from the sea as well as for protection from storms. Jorge left the vessel feeling a little uneasy as his legs got used to land. He walked with his entourage down the gangplank to the pier and along the well-lit walkway toward the beach house. A small crowd swarmed them like celebrities.
“Just in time, Jorge. The party is well under way! Can you take us on a tour of Mario’s yacht?”
“No! I am sick of that bucket. I need a drink and to be on dry land. Go help yourself.”
“A submarine? Is it true? Mario is buying a submarine? How exciting.”
Jorge paused and looked at the young thirty-something wife of one of the politicians. She was having trouble walking and had a glass of wine in her hand. She was wearing a bikini top that was too small and a silk wrap around her waist.
“Oh, yes. Let us get to the party, and I will tell you all about it!” Jorge walked arm in arm with the woman as her husband, who was decades older, went on board the yacht to explore.
“How many people have you told about our new toy?” He smiled as they walked.
“Oh, everyone knows!” She laughed.
Jorge squeezed her arm and smiled. “Well, I have something to show you. Let me get settled, and we can talk.”
Jorge was thrilled that in less than twenty-four hours, he was going to kill half these people. They were an example of the bourgeois—
Jorge felt his phone vibrate as he walked. “Sweetie, you keep walking. I will catch up. I have to take this.”
Jorge watched the young woman sway down the dock to the beach house. He hoped she did not fall off the pier. The large windows were lit, the ceiling fans could be seen inside slowly swirling, and guests gathered at the windows and pointed. The pool had floating candles and seemed quite still compared to the crashing waves behind Jorge.
“Hola?”
“I see that you are here.”
“Ah! Mr. Pena, you have arrived. Now the games can begin, huh?”
“Been here for three days, posing as the grounds keeper. Come meet me in the kitchen. I will give you a rundown of my handiwork.”
“As long as you don’t blow us all up by accident.” Jorge laughed.
“No, not planning on it. You ready for this?”
“I believe so.”
CHAPTER 28
Click Click Bang Bang
Isla Mujeres Marina, the Fishing Trawler, 2200 Hours
Isla Mujeres, or Island of Women, was so named by the early Spanish settlers because of the many carved goddesses found around the island. The Mayans believed that the island had some significance to the fertility goddess.
The island sits eight miles north of Cancun and is one of the ten municipalities of Quintara Roo. The small narrow island is a mere 4.3 miles long and 650 meters wide. A narrow airport on the north end of the island allows small prop-driven planes or helicopters to land. Only about twelve thousand or so people, depending on the season, live and work on the island.
Tommy had flown the plane the last leg of the journey and landed it on the tiny runway, which was basically a strip of land down the center of the island.
Evan noticed two small Cessnas and two Black Hawks with the word Navy on the tail sections. “Looks like our guests are here.”
The sun had set hours ago, but with the help of a full moon, streetlights, and the small lights from the airfield, Evan could see that the island was indeed as small as it had looked from his maps. Once the plane taxied, they exited and grabbed their gear. A Jeep Cherokee was idling and waiting. A member of their team helped them with their bags and gestured across the street. The sound of waves crashing against the coral and the sound of a moped was all anyone could hear. Evan smelled seafood and immediately suggested a quick side trip. No one argued.
The travelers were glad they did not have to walk far. It was less than twenty-five yards. The entire island shut down at night. Most of the tourists came over for day trips on the ferry from the mainland. Roger and Tanya had slept the whole journey. Roger was thankful that Victor had been able to locate a private doctor who was able to stitch and patch them up before the flight. The surgeon had given Evan a few stitches where his earlobe had been and treated his minor soft-tissue injuries. Tanya had been given a Valium, and Roger, a few shots of whiskey.
Evan, Roger, Tommy, and Tanya stepped on board the idling trawler and moved quickly down a dimly lit stairwell into a large, brightly lit galley. They were all exhausted and perhaps a little dazed. Tommy and Tanya went off to find a place to sleep.
“You two look like crap!” El Coyote said to Evan and Roger, laughing.
“We feel like it!” Evan smiled and accepted a cup of warm coffee. He felt a little light-headed and knew that the adrenalin was about to cut off. His eyes ached from being awake and from flying. His jaw and the back of his head throbbed.
“We stole a plane, killed some bad guys, rescued a girl, and had a few tacos. Questions?” Evan announced to the crowd, who had turned to watch the newcomers.
The members of Dark Cloud muttered and cracked jokes for a few seconds and then settled down.
A well-groomed man with short hair, weathered skin, and the intense eyes of someone who had been institutionalized in the military too long stood up. “I am Commander Thomas. I heard you men had an ordeal today.”
“Yes,” Roger agreed.
“I am glad you men made it back in one piece,” Thomas began.
Roger and Evan sat down and turned their attention to the brief.
“Let’s begin!” The commander sat down with his young officers.
Evan looked around the room through tired, droopy eyes. He finally felt like he belonged to this group. All forty-five members of Green Team One, known as the Chupacabras, were present. The whole team would stay on the trawler and serve as a quick-reaction force once the initial ambush was launched from the sub. Green Team One was still commanded by Roger. Fifteen men from Green Team Two’s Bravo Squad were present as well. The other thirty men from Green Team Two were either on the sub or making their way to the island to hide out.<
br />
An officer with the navy’s special-forces unit stood up and spoke. Some of the operators from Dark Cloud knew him, and the typical, friendly insults and jokes were thrown out there, at the annoyance of the vice admiral.
“OK, men. Please, no questions; no looking at your handouts. Everything should be up here.” The naval officer tapped his head and looked at the men, who were crammed into the tiny ship’s hold. The same brief had been given to the one hundred marines who would take part in the second phase of the actual raid. Time, space, and security made the logistics of the two groups being in the same location impossible.
“Situation is as follows: We have roughly one hundred adversaries on the island. Thirty to forty are members of Jorge Valdez’s Scorpions. We expect them to be armed with submachine guns, hand grenades, and possibly RPGs. They will fight to the death!”
Evan smiled. He admired the guy’s impatience.
“Mario’s regular sicarios, they will drop their weapons and blend in, possibly take hostages to escape. No one escapes, though.” The officer stopped and drank some coffee handed to him. “Thanks. Nowhere to go. Our surveillance from above has confirmed that there are at least two pickup trucks with fifty calibers mounted in the bed. We expect it to patrol the dock on the front of the beach house. The other one seems to be stuck on the east side of the island at the small dirt landing strip.”
Evan eyed the aerial photos taken from either a high-flying plane or drone. He noted the long seawall and wooden-and-concrete pier that moored three yachts. The Happy Mermaid was by far the longest, at close to two hundred feet. The other two were a modest 75 to 120 feet. At the end of the pier were a series of steps that went down to a floating dock and a large canopy where the sub would slip into partial cover. He shook his head. How long would it take someone in the United States to notice the sub on a satellite photo?
Behind the five-thousand-square-foot beach house, with its magnificent palm trees, swimming pool, and outdoor decks with canopies, was a small golf driving range and tennis court. Evan doubted he would have time to get in a few rounds. He glanced at the long, straight, crushed-coral road that stretched half a mile to the smaller docks and protected marina. Evan noticed something he had not seen the last time he had glanced at the photos. He confirmed quietly that these were taken in the last twenty-four hours. The dirt landing strip had one small helicopter and a Cessna. A small fishing vessel and two small sailboats were parked neatly at a lonely pier, protected by the pickup with the .50 calibers. A large seaplane, or flying boat rather, sat plain as day. Evan peered closer at the plane and identified it as a Grumman G-111 Albatross. This plane could easily make it to the States.
Silver Lead and Dead (Evan Hernandez series Book 1) Page 28