Absolving His Sins: Trident Security Book 7

by Samantha A. Cole

  Over the comm sets, Devon, the leader of the trio currently watching the comings and goings of Diaz’s people, reported everything, for the most part, was status quo. The usual guards were roaming the property, while Diaz, his trusted lieutenants, and his family were inside. There had been little movement aside from the arrival of two vans filled with the female captives about an hour ago, and two men who’d pulled up to the house about a half hour ago. One was a lieutenant under Diaz, and the other was an unknown entity.

  Carter and his team located the metal door for the escape tunnel, and using machetes, they cleared the vines and foliage from it. Next to the door, set into concrete, was a covered panel which Brody started to work on. It didn’t take him long to get in and, using clamps and wires, bypass the alarm system.

  “Damn, it feels awesome being out in the field again.” Brody had been stuck back at the Trident compound since his release from the hospital after being electrocuted by his fiancée’s stalker. He’d just recently gotten the doctor’s approval to resume all activities.

  While the light on the panel remained green for whoever was monitoring the compound’s security, according to the geek’s laptop they were good to breach the door without alerting anyone to their presence. Carter knew better than to ask if the man was positive—it would just instigate a tirade about his superior tech skills.

  Once Brody gave the all clear, Jordyn got to work on the door’s lock. It was a little more complex than a standard lock, but within two minutes, she was pulling the door open. Carter tapped the microphone of his comm set. “We’re in. Might lose you in the tunnel between all the metal and concrete, but should be back on at the other end.”

  “Copy that,” was Ian’s answer. “Everyone else report in.”

  One by one, the operatives confirmed they were in position as Carter’s team entered the tunnel. Electrical wiring ran the length of it for both the alarm system and red lights which were just bright enough they didn’t need to use their night vision goggles. Jogging at a comfortable pace, they made their way through the tunnel. According to their intel, there was another door at the far end that dumped them out in the basement where the women would be held until after the bidders had arrived. They would be held in cells with only one guard watching over them if tonight was no different from past auctions. The others would be upstairs getting ready to frisk the bidders upon their arrival. The teams needed to get in and out again before there were more people they had to worry about.

  When they reached the other door, Brody got to work on another alarm panel. After he was done bypassing it, he used the wiring to hack into the security camera feeds. Selecting the camera for the cell area, he enlarged the picture. There were eight cells, but it was hard to determine if the women were together or separated since only one of them was close enough to the thick metal bars to be seen on the camera. The door to the tunnel was at one end while the guard and the door to the stairs were at the other. The man’s head was bobbing in time to whatever song he was listening to through the earbuds attached to his phone.

  “Excellent,” Carter whispered. “They probably figured the women wouldn’t be any trouble, so they put their dumbest fuck on duty.”

  Jordyn got to work on the lock. “Hopefully, with his tunes on, he won’t hear the tumblers click.”

  “If he does, yank the door open, and I’ll take the shot.” He readied his silenced 9mm. “Brody, get ready to kill that feed and any others it doesn’t look like we need. With luck, they’ll think it’s the system and not one camera.”

  The geek nodded as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Once the commands were in, his finger hovered over the enter key. “There’s another feed from the other end of the cells aimed this way. Once you’re through, I’ll let that one pop back up. With the girls not in view, it will look normal. Whenever you’re ready, Jordyn.”

  “Two more clicks.” As she played with the tumblers within the lock, the sound of them falling into place resonated loudly in the silence on their side of the door, but on the other, the guard didn’t miss a beat with his head.

  After the last tumbler fell into place, Jordyn nodded at Carter who pushed the transmit button on his radio. “All right, we’re unlocked and ready to go. Open mics for the insiders.”

  The other four tapped their microphones on so the rest of the team could hear everything in case anyone got into trouble and couldn’t transmit in time.

  “Copy that,” Ian responded. “Ready when you are.”

  Jordyn grabbed the door’s handle and stepped to the side, waiting for the go-ahead from Carter. Brody pushed the enter key and the large basement feed went blank along with three other thumbnail views from other cameras. Rook and Mic stacked up behind Carter. When everyone was set, he whispered, “Go.”

  Yanking the handle, Jordyn swung the door wide. Before the guard even realized their invasion, a bullet from Carter’s gun nailed him right between the eyes, and he toppled to the ground. The team rushed in, Rook going to the guard’s body and locating the keys to the cells. While Carter and Mic switched to their assault rifles and kept them aimed at the door leading upstairs, Jordyn and Rook opened the cell doors. A dozen, scared, young women, dressed in lingerie for the auction, eyed their painted faces warily until Jordyn spoke to them in soothing, unaccented English. “It’s okay; we’re here to rescue you. You need to hurry.”

  It didn’t take more than that to convince the women to move. Despite being held captive, they appeared to be clean, healthy, and uninjured—they were more valuable that way. Rook pointed at the door to the tunnel where Brody was still watching the laptop screen while gesturing for the women to come his way. “Run to the end of the tunnel. There’s a man named Rich, dressed like us, waiting for you.” He then spoke to the Canadian through the comm set. “Rich, you’ve got twelve coming toward you. Load them up and take off for the mission. Shoot anyone who gets in your way.”

  “Copy,” was the response.

  Once the women were on their journey to safety, Rook closed the door to the tunnel with Brody on the other side. The Trident operative would stay there, monitoring the security system. As Carter, Jordyn, Mic, and Rook started up the stairs and were out of view of the one camera, Brody turned that one back on, and switched off the one at the top of the staircase. “Hallway above you is clear. I don’t see Diaz on any of the screens, so he’s either in his office or bedroom—both doors are shut.” Their source had told them those were the only two rooms without security cameras, but the hallways leading to them appeared on the feeds. “You’ve got three people working in the kitchen, and one in the east side living room. One guard standing at the entrance to the living room. Two guards at the front door and two more at the back door leading to the patio. All have side arms, but no assault rifles. I don’t see Diaz’s wife, but the two kids are in their bedrooms. The sick fuck was going to auction off the girls with an eight- and ten-year-old in the house. Bastard.”

  Mic eased the door open and lead with her silenced weapon. The plan was for her and Carter to head for the office while Jordyn and Rook eliminated the interior guards before they could alert anyone to the intruders’ presence. If Diaz wasn’t in his office, then they’d head up to the master bedroom and find his ass.

  Pivoting to the left, Mic advanced on silent feet with Carter on her heels. The other two went to the right. Despite Brody monitoring the security feeds and letting them know where the guards were, the Steel Corps leader still did a quick glance around the corner of the doorway where the hall passed the dining room. Finding it clear, she hurried past it. As Carter followed, they heard Jordyn’s whispered voice through their ear pieces. “Brody, kill the living room feed.”

  “Done.”

  Seconds passed before Jordyn spoke again. “Living room guard down and out. Server sleeping tight.”

  They hadn’t wanted to kill any of the workers unless they were a threat, so either Jordyn or Rook had knocked the guy out. However, the guards were a different story—the
y carried out Diaz’s dirty work and knew what they’d signed on for.

  As Mic was about to turn left down another hallway leading to the office, Brody sounded an alarm. “Two guards coming in the back door. Mic, Carter, you’re about to have trouble.”

  Pivoting toward Carter, Mic pointed at herself and then down the hall away from their target room. She then indicated for him to continue onward without her to the office. Knowing they were running out of time, he nodded in agreement. She would dispatch the guards and he would hopefully find Diaz behind door number one.

  They headed in opposite directions. When Carter reached the office door, which was still closed, he paused to listen for any voices or movement behind it. Hearing the low murmur of two male voices, he was about to open the door and shoot everyone who wasn’t Diaz or an innocent, but shouts from behind him had him pausing.

  “Fuck!” Mic’s voice was loud in his ear followed by gunshots. “Two down but cover’s blown. Son of a fucking bitch!”

  Yeah, she hadn’t needed to state the obvious. As Ian gave the order to blow the charges at the perimeter, Carter lifted his foot and kicked the door in. There was no point in being subtle now as the ground shook with the three nearly-simultaneous explosions outside. Movement to his right caught his eye, and he fired his gun at two men a split second after confirming neither one was Diaz. As they dropped dead where they’d stood, Carter scanned the room, leading with his weapon, but he’d missed someone who’d been partially blocked by the swinging door. A hand chopped down on his wrist, forcing it to lose its grip on the gun.

  Bringing his hands up to a defensive position, his eyes focused on the assailant, and shock raged through him. He didn’t have a chance to question why he was fighting a dead man, as a fist came flying toward his jaw. Ducking the punch, he tackled Glenn Aldridge—the Deimos operative who’d supposedly been blown to bits in a car bombing.

  They landed hard on the floor and rolled several times, each one trying to gain the advantage. As badly as Carter wanted to kill the bastard, he had to try and take him in. Aldridge would still be a dead man before the week was out, but not until after he was tortured into spilling his guts about why the fuck he’d become a traitor and who else was involved.

  Rolling again, Aldridge ended on top, but Carter was able to get a leg between them. Kicking out, he sent the other man flying back onto a low coffee table. Outside the office, more shouts and gunfire reached his ears, and he realized he’d lost his comms earpiece so he had no idea what his team was up to. The whine and thumping of a helicopter’s engine and rotors starting up came from the heliport—someone was making a run for it, and it was probably Diaz.

  Spinning to his feet, Carter’s gaze searched for his gun, but it wasn’t in sight; it’d probably gotten kicked under something. Aldridge was also searching for a weapon as he also stood. From the intel they’d gotten, Carter knew Diaz didn’t trust anyone other than his own guards to carry guns in the house. Outsiders were frisked and relieved of weapons before being allowed anywhere near the cartel boss. Clearly, Aldridge hadn’t earned the man’s complete trust yet.

  The traitor snatched a sharp, metal letter opener from the desk and held it like a switch blade. This wasn’t an ordinary foe Carter was facing; they’d both been trained by the best, so it was going to come down to which one of them was faster on his feet and had the dirtier tricks up his sleeve.

  As they circled each other, Carter got his first good look at his comrade-turned-enemy. Aldridge’s eyes were bright and jumpy; he’d obviously been partaking of the cartel’s cocaine stash. Carter growled as he searched for an advantage. “So what did Diaz offer you? Drugs? Money? What was so fucking tempting for you to screw over your country and sell out the agents who always had your back?”

  Waving the letter opener, the other man kicked pieces of the destroyed coffee table out of his way. “You self-righteous bastard. Diaz wanted his revenge on you and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. You really mean to tell me you haven’t gotten tired of working in the worst shitholes on this planet, doing what we do, without any recognition beyond a fucking pat on the back?”

  He stepped forward and swung the makeshift weapon at Carter’s throat, but missed as the latter dropped and rolled out of the way and back onto the balls of his feet. More shouts and gunfire sounded inside and out of the large villa, and from the sound of it, the helicopter had taken off. “Recognition? You knew damn well when you signed up there would be no fame or glory. You did this because your ego got too fucking big. Too fucking greedy. Hope the money and nose candy was fucking worth dying for. And I don’t hate telling you you’ll be buried in an unmarked grave I’m going to piss on every chance I get.”

  That insult had the desired effect as the other man lunged at him. Instead of moving away, Carter used the man’s forward momentum and grabbed his wrist, yanking hard, sending him flying onto the floor. But Aldridge countered faster than expected and kicked him in the knee, forcing him to stumble to the side. When Carter recovered and spun around, he found himself face to face with a 9mm Aldridge had pulled out of one of the dead men’s side holsters.

  Fuck! Point blank range and no cover to duck behind. He was fucking screwed. Maybe if he could get the bastard to talk, Jordyn, Mic, or Rook might be able to save the day—and his fucking life. “So who was in the car you blew up?”

  Aldridge smirked. “Some fucking homeless guy. All I had to do was get a DNA sample from him and swap it out with mine in the database. Now, how many others are out there?”

  “Not as many as it sounds.” There was no sense in lying since the man wouldn’t believe there was an entire platoon out there. “But they’re still the best, so either you walk out of here with me or you won’t make it off the property.”

  “Fuck you, Carter.” As Aldridge squeezed the trigger, Carter dove for the large desk, but not in time as a bullet slammed into his upper arm with searing, white-hot pain. Sliding over the top of the desk, he sent everything that had been on it flying before he rolled off the far side, crashing into the chair and falling into a heap on the floor. His body was in agony as he struggled to right himself before the bastard came in for the kill shot.

  “Carter!”

  Jordyn! Why wasn’t she shooting? He looked up and saw her beautiful face etched with fear as she rounded the desk, her 9mm in her hand. Her body sagged with relief when she saw he was alive. “Oh, thank God!”

  He slumped against the wall and brought his good hand to his wound. The bullet had hit where his upper arm met his shoulder and it hurt like a son of a bitch. “Al-Aldridge?”

  She dropped to her knees and holstered her weapon before pulling out a knife and ripping the sleeve of the bloody T-shirt to reveal the gunshot wound. “Fucking road kill. I shot him at the same time he pulled the trigger.” That and the adrenaline would explain why he’d only heard one shot. Jordyn moved his hand out of the way, then rolled her eyes. “That’s it? A fucking scratch? You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  It didn’t feel like a fucking scratch. Inspecting it, he saw she was right. It was a deep gouge that would require stitches to close, but the bullet had missed entering his flesh by centimeters.

  Mic appeared behind Jordyn, and it was then Carter realized the gunfire and chaos had been silenced. The Steel Corps leader frowned at him. “Seriously? A fucking scratch? You’re slacking. By the way, the list of women who’ve saved your sorry ass is growing.”

  “Thank God for that,” he grunted while Jordyn pushed the desk chair out of his way so he could stand. “Who took off in the helicopter?”

  “Diaz,” Ian spat as he strode through the door, taking the entire scene in with one glance. “Who gave you the boo-boo?”

  Carter snorted. Yeah, he was going to hear about this injury for a while. He pointed to Aldridge, who’d taken Jordyn’s bullet in the head. “Glenn Aldridge. The agent who supposedly was blown up in his car. I’ll explain later. What happened with Diaz?”

  “Fucking bastard and his
pilot used the wife and kids as shields. Jones and Costello couldn’t risk taking the shots. We’ll have to wait until he pops up again somewhere to take him down. For now, the hostages are safe, the innocent workers are shaking in their shoes but alive, and the guards are either dead or wishing they were. Aside from you, the team is uninjured. I’ll make sure Ramona gives you a lollipop when she’s done stitching you up.” Ian turned on his heel and headed for the door again. “Now call in your cleanup team, and let’s get out of this hellhole.”

  That was the best suggestion he’d heard all day. Jordyn pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call Gene.”

  Nodding, Carter holstered his gun Mic had found for him. “You and your team are better off disappearing before the cavalry shows up. Thanks for the help, Mic.”

  She smiled at him. “Anytime.” Her head tilted toward Jordyn who was deep in detailing the day’s events to their boss. “She’s a keeper. I expect an invite to the collaring ceremony even though I’m banned from the US. I’ve never seen one, so if you can, have Egghead stream it to Scotland.”

  A grin spread across his face as he leaned down and kissed her camouflaged cheek. “You got it.”

  Her brow shot up, and he realized she’d noticed the absent endearment he’d always given her, whether she liked it or not. “Never thought I’d say this, but I kinda miss you calling me ‘sweetheart.’ But I’m glad to pass the torch onto someone who deserves it.”

  “I’ll have to tell Chris to come up with some sappy nickname for you.”

  His chuckle turned into a flat out belly laugh as she gave him the finger on her way out the door. Turning toward Jordyn, he watched as she disconnected the call. “All good?”

  She nodded. “Gene has everyone scrambling. We just have to hold down the fort until the first wave gets here to secure the place. Should be within an hour or two.” She sidled up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Anyone not involved in the world of black ops would think she was crazy when she asked, “Think your shoulder can survive a little nookie? Cause I’m horny as hell right now, Double-O.”