“It better not kill the damn thing. I don’t want a repeat of that incident in Tijuana.”
“That wasn’t my fault. How was I to know the old lady was already jacked up on happy pills?”
“Just get on with it.”
The two men stepped away from the van and approached the fence. They were an arm’s length away when a loud bark startled them both.
“Good doggie,” murmured Hugo as he flicked the steak into the yard. The Malinois launched itself against the fence and bared a jagged set of teeth as it growled.
“Holy shit,” yelled Hugo as he backpedaled.
Antonio laughed. “Hombre, it’s just a dog.”
“It’s a monster.”
“Yeah, and soon he’s going to be a sleepy monster.”
The men returned to the van’s cabin and closed the doors. From their elevated position they could see into the yard. They watched as the dog sniffed the steak.
“Yum, yum, eat it all up,” said Antonio.
Behind the fence the dog gave the steak another sniff then moved to the porch where he had better observation across his domain.
The men watched for another fifteen minutes and yet still the Malinois ignored the meat.
“Eat the steak you bastard,” said Hugo.
“He will,” replied Antonio.
“Maybe it's not hungry?”
“Dogs are always hungry.”
“You're always hungry. That’s why you’re so fat.”
Hugo's phone vibrated. He pulled it from the center console and inspected the screen. “We need to move now. The woman's coming back to the house.”
“We'll use the dart guns.”
They alighted from the van and opened the side door. From inside the box they recovered two sleek black dart guns. Both men checked the weapons were loaded. Then Hugo made for the picket gate as Antonio stepped up to the fence.
“Where is it?” asked Hugo as he leaned over the gate.
“It was on the porch.”
He scanned the yard but saw no sign of the dog. “You're kidding me.” He reached over the gate and grasped the latch.
There was a savage growl and he screamed as strong jaws clamped on to his arm. Jagged teeth pierced his flesh as he wailed, “Help me, help me.”
Antonio lurched forward, leaned over the fence and fired the gun. The dart shot past the dog, thudding into the lawn.
At the same time, Hugo managed to fire his weapon with his free hand. The dart lodged in the dog's shoulder but the animal growled louder, savaging his arm with a vicious shake.
“Shoot it again! Shoot it again!” Hugo screamed hysterically, bracing against the gate.
Antonio fumbled with his dart gun. Seconds passed before he reloaded, aimed and fired. The projectile flew straight and true, striking the dog in the flank. However, the two doses of sedative made no difference.
“Get him off me!” yelled Hugo as Antonio reloaded and fired yet another dart into the animal.
Finally, the attack dog released Hugo and fell back. He swayed and stumbled as he retreated to the porch.
“When he drops, you get him,” said Hugo as he clutched his bloodied arm to his chest.
Antonio's eyes were wide. “I'm not going in there till he's out for the count.”
Hugo found a sweater from inside the van and wrapped it around his arm to staunch the bleeding. It felt like the dog's teeth had reached the bone. “Just get the bastard dog. We need to get the hell out of here.”
***
Junior was singing as Ali turned her Prius into their street. He had passed his checkup with flying colors. Mike was going to beam with pride when she passed on the news that he was significantly larger than other children his age.
The smile dropped from her face as Ali caught a glimpse of a man bundling a dark object into a van immediately in front of their house. The vehicle pulled away from the curb as she reached their drive. A glance out the window confirmed her worst fear. The white picket gate was smeared with blood and wide open. She jumped from the car. “Axe, Axe!” she screamed.
There was no sign of the dog.
Ali dove back into the Prius and stomped the accelerator to the floor. The little hybrid's tires chirped as it lurched forward. She aimed it down the street after the van that was turning the corner.
Her heart lurched as she lost sight of the vehicle and she urged the hybrid on. Behind her Junior squealed with delight as they zoomed around the corner, narrowly missing another car.
She'd closed the gap with the van to the point where she could read the plate number. Committing it to memory, she backed off the throttle. Mike had taught her the basics of tailing another car on one of their many road trips; one of the perks of having a SEAL as a husband.
As she drove she activated the car’s entertainment system. “Dial 911,” she ordered the voice recognition program.
A moment later the call connected. “Hello, you've reached 911 how may I help you?”
“Hi, look someone has abducted my dog. I'm in pursuit of a white van with the following plate number.” She positioned the car so she could read off the license plate.
“Ma'am, are you in any way in danger?”
Ali shook her head. “No, someone has stolen my dog.”
“Yes, ma'am I am aware and I have reported the incident. However, I need to know if your life or anyone else's life is in immediate danger.”
“Yes, my dog's life is in danger.”
“Understood ma'am. Officers will investigate the theft as soon as possible.”
“I'm following them right now.”
“Miss, that's not advised. You need to leave this to the professionals. I'll have officers get in contact with you as soon as possible.”
“So that's it?” Ali thumped the steering wheel in frustration.
“Yes, ma'am. A BOLO will be issued for the van and officers will respond as quickly as they can.”
Ahead Ali saw the van slow and indicate to turn left. At the same time, a pickup moved into the gap between them. If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose them.
“Ma'am is that all?”
“Huh? Yeah, that's all. Thanks for your help.” She terminated the call and braked as the pickup slowed. “Get out of the way, idiot!”
“Idiot!” echoed Junior from the backseat.
“We don't say that, darling.”
The pickup came to a complete stop, leaving a small gap that allowed her to squeeze around the corner. Accelerating she searched for the van. The street was empty and her heart skipped a beat. Then, she caught a glimpse of it on a side street. Slowing she turned across the opposite lane. A truck skidded to a halt, its horn blaring.
Ali whipped the hybrid into a tight U-turn and continued her chase. Further ahead the van was gathering speed. Traffic was heavier here and there was a danger that she'd lose Axe's dognappers in the afternoon rush.
A traffic signal changed to yellow as the van rushed through it. Ali gunned the engine. The light went red as the Prius belted forward. At that moment Ali realized the risks she was taking with Junior in the car. She slammed on the brakes, and the car shuddered to a halt a yard past the intersection. Ali's eyes never left the van as it escaped into traffic. Faintly, she registered the flash of movement to her right. Then there was an almighty bang as a car smashed into the Prius, flinging it sideways.
Chapter Five
Mike burst into the police station and stormed up to the counter. “I'm here to see my wife, Alison Saunders.”
The elderly sergeant behind the counter looked up from his computer screen and gave the SEAL a once over. As he did, another man appeared at the door, TJ.
“Mr. Saunders, your wife and son are safe and sound in interview room one. I'll buzz you through.”
As promised, Mike found Ali and Junior in an interview room with a female police officer. His wife leaped out of her chair and wrapped her arms around him. “Mike, they took Axe. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop them.”
“Babe, it's OK. You and Junior are safe, that's what's important.”
“You have to find him.”
“Sir,” said the police officer. “We've issued a BOLO on the vehicle. Our people are actively searching for your dog.”
Mike nodded. “Thanks officer. Do you mind if I take my family home now?”
“No problem. We're all done here.”
Mike picked up Junior and the three of them walked out to the reception area where TJ was talking with the sergeant. A moment later the Chief joined them in the parking lot.
“Cops ran the plates on the van and got nothing.”
“What about the company name, Royal Garden Services?” asked Ali.
“Company’s got a website, but it's not registered.”
“It's a front?” asked Mike.
“Looks that way,” said TJ.
“Why would someone target Axe?” asked Ali.
Mike and TJ shared a look.
“No, he’s in jail. Barbosa can’t possibly have done it.”
“They'll try to get Axe across the border. We need to stake out the crossing points,” said Mike.
“I'll get Ernie, Rick and some of the boys to help us out.” TJ took his phone from his pocket and started dialing.
“Mike, what can I do?” asked Ali.
“Babe, you've done enough. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have a lead. TJ and I will get Axe back.”
“Axe, Axe, Axe!” yelled Junior.
Ali looked up at her husband with tear filled eyes. “You have to get him back.”
***
The Royal Garden Services van pulled into a rented warehouse and a sliding door clanged shut behind it. Hugo jumped from the cabin as the lights flickered on. He spotted their employer standing alongside a stack of barrels.
“Any problems?” asked the man who'd broken into Ali and Mike's home.
“All good, essé,” replied Hugo.
“All good?” squawked Antonio as he climbed from the passenger seat, clutching his bloodied arm. “That dog is loco.”
The man nodded. “I told you he was an attack dog. Why did you get so close?” He spat on the floor. “Actually, I don't care. Is it sedated?”
“Yes, we dosed him good.”
“He better be alive.”
“He is, we're not complete amateurs.”
The man raised his eyebrows as he glanced at Antonio's arm. “If you say so.” Then he gestured to a flatbed truck parked on the far side of the warehouse. The tray was stacked high with blue barrels. “Put the dog in a barrel and hit the road. The quicker we get you across the border, the better.”
Hugo nodded and slid the door to the van open.
“We're going to need more money,” said Antonio.
“Because you screwed up?”
“No, because the dog’s loco.”
The burglar shook his head. “You know who's paying the bills?”
“Do I care? Look at my arm.”
“You know who the Butcher is?”
The color drained from Antonio's face.
“Yeah, I thought so. Now get the dog in a barrel.”
***
Mike and TJ sat in the US Customs and Border Protection command post, staring at a wall of screens. TJ had called in a favor with an FBI colleague to get them access. When he'd explained the situation to the Border Guards, they'd been only too happy to help.
“We're chasing a needle in a haystack,” said Mike.
“We've got Rick and Ernie at the other checkpoints,” replied TJ.
On screen, Mike watched a large flatbed truck loaded with barrels passing through one of the checkpoints. “They could have changed vehicles a dozen times by now.”
TJ nodded. “Mike, we need to start thinking about enacting a contingency plan.”
“The priority is Axe.”
“No, the priority is keeping you and your family safe. Barbosa knows where you live.”
“He’s always known where we live.”
“Yes, but now he’s taken action on that.”
“You’re right, we need to confront him.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
Mike turned to the Chief with a look of anguish on his face. “Do we have any other choice?”
“If he took Axe it's because he wants to bargain, and you know the only thing he wants more than that dog is you.”
“Yeah, but we’re not gonna let that happen.”
“I'll make the arrangements.”
Mike continued to watch the flow of vehicles as TJ made a call. He and Axe had served together in Afghanistan, Mexico and Columbia. The dog had saved his life and the lives of his teammates on more than one occasion. Axe had also brought Ali and him together, and saved her life. There was no way in hell that Mike was going to rest until that dog was safe at home where he belonged.
***
The truck ground its way along a sandy track bordered on both sides by thick scrubby bush. Hugo and Antonio had driven their cargo down the Baja peninsula to the resort town of Cabo San Lucas before heading inland. Their destination was a shabby looking ranch nestled in the foothills of a steep mountain range.
“What a dump,” said Antonio as the truck's brakes hissed, sending up a cloud of yellow dust.
Las Polvo had once been a horse ranch. Now it was a dilapidated collection of adobe buildings clustered around an open square. At one end a set of yards filled with tumbleweeds was slowly disintegrating in the harsh Mexican sun.
As Hugo stepped from the truck the front door of one of the buildings opened and a figure dressed in faded jeans, boots, a check shirt and a Stetson appeared. The dog snatcher noted the Glock pistol and spare magazines attached to the man’s belt, and the submachine gun slung over his shoulder. The guy looked cartel, through and through.
“You guys made good time,” said the man as a second, similarly equipped sicario wearing a baseball cap joined him.
“Traffic was light,” said Hugo.
Antonio joined them and the men eyeballed the bloodied bandaged wrapped around his arm.
The man spat tobacco into the dust. “OK essé, where's the dog?”
Hugo moved to the side of the truck and released a strap. Grasping a barrel, he hefted it clear. As he dropped it to the ground a savage growl emanated from inside.
“Angry little bastard,” said one of the men.
Antonio raised his injured arm. “You could say that.”
“The pens are around the back.”
The cartel guy’s offsider appeared with a sack truck and kicked it under the barrel. The growling continued as Hugo wheeled it behind the buildings to where there were four concrete floored pens.
Dog fighting was popular in Mexico and Hugo knew that the cartels controlled it. This must be one of the facilities where they held the dogs before the fights. As he pushed the drum into a pen he noted bloodstains on the floor, and scratch marks on the steel posts.
“Put it in the middle and undo the lid,” said the sicario.
Hugo dumped the barrel and stepped away from it. “You do it.” He left the cage.
“Pussies.” The other man stepped forward and unlatched the lid. As he levered it free the dog broke into a volley of savage barks. He flipped the lid, backpedaled out of the cage and slammed the gate.
The Stetson-wearer grabbed a pole from where it leaned against the cage. Pushing it through the wire fence he gave the barrel a shove. The dog growled as it rocked. He gave it a harder shove and it toppled over.
A moment later their captive appeared, baring its teeth at the men with raised hackles.
“Shit, that's a mean looking perro.”
Stetson handed the pole to his partner and took a phone from his pocket. “Give him a poke.” He started filming as the other man shoved the pole through the fence at the dog.
Axe savaged the end of the stick, tearing it from his hands.
“He's a real feisty one. Pity the boss has got other plans for him. He'd make us a fortune in t
he fights.”
The dog retreated to the corner with the stick and proceeded to tear it to pieces. Stetson finished filming and placed his phone in his pocket. There was no reception at the ranch. He’d head into town to upload the video.
“Have you got our money?” asked Antonio.
“Inside.” He gestured for his partner to get it.
“Do you know what the plan is for the dog?” continued Antonio as they walked back to the truck.
“Oh, that hound’s gonna wish he was never born.”
“Good.” He gestured to his bandaged arm. “Make sure he really suffers.”
Chapter Six
TJ grasped Mike by the shoulder as he made to enter the visitor's cell in the Supermax prison. “Hey, don't let your emotions get the better of you in there. Remember, Barbosa is a full-blown psycho and you punched his brother's ticket. He's out for revenge and getting angry is going to play straight into his hands.”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, got it.”
A burly looking guard opened the door and gestured for the men to enter.
Barbosa, The Butcher, sat shackled to a steel table. Mike paused in the doorway. If it weren't for the eyes, he would have sworn it was a different man. Prison life had been good for the former cartel kingpin. He'd lost at least thirty pounds of fat and gained some muscle in his chest and shoulders.
“Petty Officer Mike Saunders.” Barbosa greeted him with a broad smile. “It's a real pleasure to see you.”
“I'm sure it is,” snapped Mike as he moved inside and TJ followed him.
There was a moment of awkward silence as the three men eyeballed each other.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure, amigos?”
“Where the hell is Axe?”
Barbosa feigned confusion. “How would I know where your tomahawk is?”
“You know exactly what I'm talking about.”
“Do I?”
“My dog, where is my dog?” growled Mike.
“Easy,” said TJ.
The cartel boss shrugged. “I've got no idea what you're talking about.”
Mike clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. He imagined reaching across, grasping Barbosa's head and smashing his face into the table.
Signed SEAL'd and Delivered (SEAL Series Book 3) Page 4