by L. T. Ryan
I felt my blood start to boil. I took a deep breath and composed myself before continuing. "So you've never been asked to pick up a specific kid?"
"Nah." Pablo looked up, his face twisted. "Well, that's not true. A few weeks ago they gave me a picture and told me to get the kid."
"What did he, or she, look like?"
"He. Blond hair. Maybe ten years old, not sure."
"Where did you pick him up?"
Pablo leaned back and crossed his arms. Brought one hand up to his chin and rubbed his forefinger and thumb against his beard.
"Where, Pablo?"
"I followed him and his mom for a few miles. They pulled into a gas station. It was late, dark. I smacked the lady. She dropped to the ground. I took the kid. But, I can't remember exactly where. I was, uh, not sober."
Frank opened the door and stepped in. He didn't sit down. Instead, he leaned against the back wall, never taking his eyes off of Pablo. I decided to get the questioning back on track. We could revisit the abduction after the raid.
"OK, Pablo, back to the house," I said. "How many guys are there?"
"Five or six at all times."
"Up to?"
"I dunno, maybe eight. Never seen more than ten. If you go after eight you'll only have five or six. And one will be sleeping. There is always someone on duty watching the cameras, so someone is always sleeping in preparation of their shift."
"What kind of weaponry?" I asked.
"I think everyone is armed in there. I know I'm always armed with at least a pistol on me. They have some assault rifles, too."
"How many?"
Pablo shrugged and said nothing.
I glanced over at Frank. He met my gaze and nodded.
"See you for a sec, Jack."
I got up and we stepped out of the room. I looked around the lobby. All the offices were full with agents waiting to meet and discuss the raid.
"Full house," I said.
"Yeah." Frank nodded as he looked left, then right. "So what's your feeling? Is he telling the truth?"
I shrugged. "Guess so. He could be lying, but we know the house is there. We know there's going to be people inside. I'm thinking we should have a sniper set up across the street and watch the house all night. Get another guy up there in the morning. That way we'll have some kind of count on how many guys when we head in."
"Think it's really only five or six?" Frank said.
I leaned in and spoke low. "You worried?"
"A bit."
"You and I can handle five or six guys and barely break a sweat doing so. We got this."
Frank nodded. "OK. Take him downstairs and get him into a cell. No point in keeping him in the room."
"OK."
"We'll be down in the conference room. Meet us there."
CHAPTER 5
I locked the solid steel door to Pablo's cell and made my way to conference room, which was located on the same floor. The underground levels of our building were twice the size of the first floor. Half of this floor was holding cells. The other half was split between the conference room and a few more offices. There were two more floors below. One was all offices, and the other had a workout room and our warehouse, which housed all our weaponry. An elevator on the bottom floor could take us down another hundred feet or so to an emergency bunker. I doubted we'd ever have to use it. At least, I wouldn't. I'd always been of the opinion that if something happened that destroyed the world, I wanted to go down with it. Call me spoiled, but the idea of trying to survive on cans of franks and beans held little appeal for me.
I took my time walking down the narrow hallway that led to the conference room. The whirr of the overhead fan was missing. The still air smelled like corn chips. I made a mental note to mention to Frank that we'd need someone to look at the system. And that we'd have to get the cleaners out soon. The situation warranted quick action, but I wanted to make sure all my thoughts were solidified before giving the group an overview, and the time between Pablo's cell and the conference room was all I had.
I stopped outside the open doorway of the conference room and leaned back against the wall. The soft murmur of chatter drifted past me like leaves on a windy day. Insignificant, individually. However, when taken as a whole, it was as if death brushed up against you, and circled you like a shark in the water. That's the vibe that voices in that room had. Everyone in there knew the stakes, no doubt about that. We always faced the very real possibility that one of us wouldn't return home. Not alive, that is. And it didn't matter. Not a single man in the building could say that they didn't know the risks when they signed up for the job.
"The man of the hour," Frank said as I stepped into the room. The group gave me a mock cheer as I took my seat. Frank looked at me and said, "We're ready to go."
A large diagram of the house had been drawn on the white board. Next to it, a street map of the neighborhood had been pinned to the wall. I got up and went to the head of the room and pointed at the house. "We're looking at a minimum of five guys, possibly up to ten, with one asleep." I circled the upstairs. "Bedrooms are here. First two through the door are going to hit the stairs and head up. Next two are going to the right," I paused and pointed at the dining room, "and the two after that to the left. You'll meet up with the team coming in through the back, which should be in place before we enter the house. We'll have snipers in place as well, two across the street and at least one in the back. They'll be able to cover us against any outside interference."
Harris raised his hand and said, "Is two enough for upstairs?"
"No, it's not," I said. "Me and Frank will go in last and hit the stairs, unless things are out of control downstairs."
"What about the feebs?"
"Good question. As of right now, the FBI is not involved."
"Right now, huh? OK. Locals?"
"No. You know how it is, Harris. Both are a possibility. We'll make tactical adjustments on site if necessary."
"And what's the objective? Custody? Kill on sight?"
I glanced at the drawing and pointed to the space between the garage and the kitchen. "The men are secondary. I'd say kill on sight except for the leader of the group, but we don't know who that is. We risk losing information by taking them out. Shoot to neutralize if you have to. If you feel threatened, then kill them."
I surveyed the faces in the room and saw everyone nodding, some in agreement and others just to be doing something. Frank shot me a look that said let's get this thing moving.
"The true objective of this operation is in the basement," I said.
"What's in the basement?" Carmichael asked.
At that moment my mouth felt like twenty cotton balls had been stuffed in it. I forced my tongue down in an effort to wet my mouth, and then licked my lips. A thin layer of sweat formed on my brow and neck. Why? I'd been preparing myself since we drove away from that awful prison of a house earlier that afternoon. Why all of a sudden was I panicking over it? Because I knew that telling the group would make it real.
I scanned the room. All eyes were on me. Anticipation hung thick in the air, like black smoke racing ahead of an out of control fire. They were expecting an answer like guns or drugs or a dozen illegal aliens. Christ, over half the men in the room had kids, and not a damn one of them was prepared for what I was about to say.
"Jack?" Frank said. "You want me to take this?"
"No, I got it." I walked to the table and placed both hands on it, palms down. Sweat created a thin, cool barrier between the laminate top and my skin. I leaned over and looked at each man in the room, one by one. "A dozen kids, give or take. Each one taken randomly, save one, to be sold and shipped overseas."
A collective groan filled the room. Faces turned red. Some men instinctively reached for their holstered weapons. Others clenched their fists or slapped the table. I began to wonder if we'd take any prisoners out of the house alive.
"Holy shit," McKenzie said.
"Yeah." I had to control the room before thoughts and
tempers got too far out of hand. "So be extra careful when we're clearing the house. I don't know for sure if the kids are allowed out of the basement or not. So watch for little people."
"I'm ready to go now," Carmichael said.
I raised both hands and held them in front of my chest. "We go tomorrow. Get your rest tonight."
"What if they move out with one or more of the kids?" Klein said.
"We've got a man there already. He's watching. We've got a few units nearby. In cars and ready to go. If they try to leave with a child, we'll be on their asses."
The room fell silent. An audible whirr sound slipped in from the hall. The fan had kicked back on. Maybe Frank had already called about it.
"All right, guys," I said. "I got nothing else. We'll reconvene here at noon. Go spend time with your families. And those of you still single don't get too drunk tonight."
The last comment elicited a couple of chuckles and grins. The men got up and left the room without a word. After they cleared out, only Frank and I remained.
"I think that went OK," he said.
I shrugged. "Suppose so." I sat down across from Frank. "'Bout as well as I expected."
"You think they'll aim to neutralize?"
"No," I said. "You?"
Frank shook his head and didn't respond. He leaned back and crossed his arms. His head dropped back to the point where the edge of the back of the chair supported him at the base of his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed up then down, and then he cleared his throat.
I waited a few seconds for him say something. He didn't. I rapped on the table twice with my knuckles and stood. "I'm going to head out. Grab a beer with me?"
He shifted in the chair and straightened up. "Nah. Think I'll head home."
"Suit yourself." I walked to the door and glanced over my shoulder. He'd slouched down again and was staring at the ceiling. There was no point in asking again. Frank would spend the night in the office, like he had most nights the last two months.
CHAPTER 6
Frank pulled our car into the parking lot of a closed down donut shop about a mile from the house. I stepped out into the cold air. The wind hit me like a sheet of ice. My cheeks burned and my lips went dry. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, a prelude to a winter storm. As long as the snow held off a few hours, they'd be beneficial to us, blocking out the final rays of a dying December sun. By five o'clock it'd be as dark as night. Dark enough for us to move down the street undetected.
I grabbed my earpiece and wrapped it around the side of my head. Flipped my transmitter on and said, "Hall, come in."
Hall was positioned on top of the house across the street from our target. No one knew he was there, least of all the homeowners. The guy was a chameleon and could blend in anywhere.
A few seconds passed, then a gravelly voice responded. "Yeah?"
"What you got over there?"
"No movement since late last night. Two went in, three exited and haven't returned."
"No kids?"
"Affirmative."
"We're going to move in at five, so if anything changes between now and then, you let me know."
"You got it."
"I'll be in touch before we approach."
I changed the setting on my transmitter to only pick up my voice when I pressed the transmit button. I got back in the car and let the warmth envelop me, pushing the cold from my body inch by inch.
"All good?" Frank said.
I nodded. "Think we're looking at five guys. He said three left last night and never returned. Two entered and no one's left since."
"They must shuffle crews in and out. Only a couple core guys stay at the house."
That sounded reasonable, although, with an operation like they had going, the fewer people in the know, the better. All it took was one guy getting caught, and he could rat out the whole organization, like Pablo had.
Two more cars pulled up, carrying a total of eight guys. They parked on either side of us. Everyone got out. The ten of us made our way around the building. I'm sure we were a sight to anyone who passed by. Ten guys dressed in black cargo pants and black thermal shirts, utility belts around our waists. We had radios clipped to our shoulders and wires dangling from our ears. We quickly moved to the back of the building, out of sight. There, I gave a rundown of our plan.
"We're going to make our first move at five. Judging by the cloud cover, it should be dark enough by then."
"Do we want to go that early?" Klein asked.
"I'd prefer to wait till later," I said. "But once the snow starts, it's going to light up the area. We'll be visible from half a block away."
Half the men nodded in agreement. The others stared, anticipation spread across their faces.
"Eight of us are getting off at the end of the street. Thorpe and Lucero, you guys are going to the street behind the house. You'll cut through to the backyard and wait for us to reach the front."
Both men nodded and paired up to my right. They weren't usually partnered together, but I thought they shared an asset that would be beneficial to the operation. Thorpe and Lucero were the shortest in our group, both coming in at under five-seven.
"Harris and McKenzie," I said. "You two are first in and will hit the stairs. Carmichael and Klein, you two will cover them, then to the right. Clear the dining room and kitchen, then meet Thorpe and Lucero."
"Got it," Klein said.
"Reid, Sabatino," I said. "To the left, wrap around. Me and Frank'll be last and it's up in the air whether we'll go upstairs or help downstairs. I'm betting most of the action is going to be downstairs since we are entering so early. If we're lucky, there'll be four of them sitting around the table eating, and one in bed sleeping."
The group chuckled. Things were never that easy. Not for us. Not for anyone.
"We're in vests and helmets. These guys'll be armed. I don't want any casualties."
A hush fell over the group. No one wanted to acknowledge the possibility that someone could die, but every man thought about it.
"We still flying solo?" Reid asked.
"Just us," Frank said. "Local authorities have been warned to stay away. I'm going to update my contact in the Bureau afterward."
A voice chimed into my earpiece and told me that the van would be there in ten minutes.
"OK, van's on the way. Grab your last smoke."
CHAPTER 7
We exited the van half a block away from the house. The angle of the path we took carried us closer and closer to the homes we passed. By the time we reached the fourth house, the last one before the target, we were pressed up against the siding so no one inside the target home could see us.
I reached the corner and lifted my left hand to make a fist. Pressed the transmit button on my gear and said, "You two in position?"
Thorpe answered. "Yeah. From here we can see two in the kitchen, none in the family room."
I looked over my shoulder and scanned the faces of the men behind me. Each man nodded their acknowledgment that they understood.
"Start moving," I said to Thorpe. "First man of ours you see, you burst in." I turned and addressed the men with me. "OK, it's time. Create mass confusion. Disorient them. Only shoot if you feel threatened. I'd rather have broken bones than bullet holes in these guys."
I poked my head around the corner and saw a camera mounted on the side of the house. I had three options. Shoot it, or send someone out to disable it, or ignore it. If I shot it, someone would hear, even though I carried an H&K MP7S equipped with a suppressor. Sending someone out to disable could give them advanced warning that we were approaching. If they were going to get any warning, I'd prefer it to be when all of us were closing in on the house, not a single man sent out like a sacrificial lamb.
I chose to ignore it. Call it a gut feeling, but I reasoned that if two of the men were in the kitchen, they were getting ready to eat. That might be the one time each day that they let their guard down.
"All right, team," I said. "Flip transmissions
to on and move."
We crossed the narrow strip of grass between the houses, hunched over and in a tactical formation. Frank and I waited under the camera. The first four through the door crowded on the porch. They knocked the door down and mass confusion began.
Harris and McKenzie rushed inside and Klein and Carmichael quickly dropped into position at the front door, crisscrossing their aim and covering the first two men. Then, they went in and disappeared out of sight. Reid covered them. The sound of gunfire erupted from inside. Muzzle flash lit up the porch. Reid was knocked back five feet and hit the ground. I felt my stomach drop.
"Shit," Frank said.
"Updates," I said.
"Upstairs is clear," Harris said. "We've got one up here."
"We're going in," Thorpe said.
No one else responded.
I rushed to the door and stopped. Frank took position next to me, ready to cover me as I entered. I ducked inside and headed left. The area in front of me was empty. I aimed my weapon into the living room and then down the hall. The living room was clear and Sabatino gave me a thumbs up from the family room. I rose up from a crouching position and looked over the stairs. I saw one man sprawled out on the table, lying on his back. A crimson stain quickly spread across his white t-shirt.
I nodded at Frank. He entered the house, veering to the right. He gestured in the direction of the kitchen, then turned toward me. "It's good, Jack. They've got them kneeling down in the center of the kitchen."
"How many?"
"Four."
Four in the kitchen, one dying on the table, and one upstairs for a total of six men. Pablo had told us the truth.
"I'm going to check on Reid," I said as I walked through the front door. I scanned the area, in case someone had pulled up. Porch lights were on and people poked their heads out of doors and out from behind curtains that covered their front windows.
Reid lay on the ground, wriggling in pain. I bent over and shined a flashlight in his direction. A couple bullets had hit him in the chest, right on top of his heart. If he hadn't been protected by Kevlar, he'd be dead.