Tony: Alvarez Security Series

by Jordan, Maryann

  “And Hernando doesn’t have to follow any child welfare laws as to hours per day or week worked,” Matt said.

  “A modern-day Fagan,” Tony said. “They do his dirty work and he takes care of them in the most minimalistic way possible.”

  “Hernando’s laundries have expanded to twenty-four-hour service and have multiple hotel contracts. He’s rolling in the money and doesn’t have to pay most of his employees. He’s now moving into supplying girls for Quentin’s clubs.”

  “Quentin runs the club legitimately with legal aged girls to serve and dance, but gets some underage girls to be in the upstairs rooms,” Matt said.

  “And with the underground tunnels, they can get the younger girls in the back rooms without anyone noticing from the streets.”

  “No way Quentin’s a one-man show,” Tony stated.

  Matt spoke up, “Hell, he’s only one man in a whole industry, but we haven’t identified his immediate boss yet. We just know Hernando works for him, but no idea, as of yet, who Quentin reports to.”

  “We’re getting search warrants right now to hit the grocery, laundry, and the club simultaneously. Best we can tell this is a huge operation and the DA was willing to let the investigation continue on its course so we could get the higher-ups but, now that we have Betina’s statement, we’ve got to hit them hard and fast.”

  “Surprise is essential,” the Chief said, and then signed off as Tony’s group wished them luck.

  Jobe looked around the table, “This one feels weird, Captain. We just provided some information that the police didn’t have and yet we’re not going after the bad guys.”

  Gabe nodded, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “How do you all think I feel every time you go out after all I’ve done is give intel?” Lily piped up.

  “We did our job and we did it well. This time it’s up to the police to go after their mission,” Tony said.

  Tony looked at his watch, seeing that it was just after noon. He walked out of the main conference room and toward his office as he called Sherrie. It went to voice mail but then he grinned…maybe she took my advice and is having that bubble bath.

  *

  Jogging up the club stairs, Hernando relished seeing Betina used, knowing that she’d be perfect for servicing men now. Seeing the door open, he assumed the client had left, but hoped that Betina had not escaped. Stunned, he looked down seeing the man barely lifting himself off of the floor with his pants around his ankles and Betina nowhere to be found. “You dumb fuck!” he screamed at the man trying to pull his pants up. “You let her get away.”

  “Me, a dumb fuck? I paid for a scared virgin and you promised me that! Instead, I got my balls shoved up to my throat! Someone’s gonna pay,” the man growled, looking down on Hernando.

  “She shows up with the police and no one’s gonna get paid, you asshole. You can’t even subdue and fuck a kid?” Hernando’s panic was rising. Where could she have gone? Would she have gone to the police? No, then she would have to admit her part in recruiting.

  Looking around wildly, his mind furiously worked to think of where she would be.

  “Fuck!,” the man bit out. “The thieving bitch took my cell phone.”

  Hernando’s heart sunk. With a cell phone she could have called someone to pick her—Ms. Mullins. Goddammit! That’s exactly who she would have called.

  Turning, he bolted out of the room and ran down the stairs with the yells of the dissatisfied client ringing in his ears.

  Driving home quickly, he ran into the house, heading back to Betina’s room. Marcella walked out of the kitchen. “What are you looking for?” she asked as he rummaged through papers on Betina’s desk.

  “Quiet, woman. That bitch daughter of yours is going to get me in trouble and if she does, your meal ticket is gone.”

  “Betina? What has she done?” Marcella asked, her curiosity overriding the angry vibes pouring off of Hernando. She pulled his arm from the desk, “Tell me what you are doing!”

  He whirled, backhanding her across the face. “I told you to be quiet. I offered her a chance to make money for helping me and she’s trying to get me arrested.”

  Her face stinging, Marcella stood dumbly looking at the man in front of her. The one she hoped would marry her. And now, he appeared ready to kill her daughter.

  Seeing Betina’s backpack sitting next to the desk, he dumped the contents on the bed, watching as papers fell out in disarray. Shuffling through them, he saw one with Court Services at the top. It had Sherrie Mullin’s name and phone number on the form. Pulling out his cell phone, he quickly input her information and easily pulled up Sherrie’s address.

  Smiling at his ingenuity, he turned once again, this time to see Marcella standing in the doorway blocking his path.

  “I don’t know what you want with Betina, but I won’t let you hurt her,” she said, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

  He charged her, knocking her out of the way. She fell back, hitting her head against the doorframe. Slumping to the floor, tears streamed from her face as she saw him run out of the house. What have I done?

  Chapter 23

  It had been a long evening and Tony was anxious to get home. The group was moving toward the back door of the offices leading to the parking garage when Doug leaned his head out of the security monitor door.

  “Tony, wait,” he yelled. “Looks like movement outside of Sherrie’s house on the back side. Can’t pick it up very well, but it appears to be a—”

  Just then the sound of an alarm went off inside the room, causing Tony, Gabe, Vinny, and Jobe to hustle inside.

  Fuck – someone’s broken in! And they’re there with Sherrie.

  *

  Sinking into the hot bubbles had been the perfect way to end her day. Sherrie grinned, thinking back to when Tony surprised her at the cabin when she had been soaking in the tub. Hmmm, I wish he could come home now.

  Deciding she had become a wrinkled prune, she rose from the tub and donned her flannel pajamas bottoms and one of Tony’s t-shirts. Sliding her feet into socks, she padded pack into the bathroom. After brushing out her hair, she went downstairs to her kitchen. What was it Tony suggested next? Wine? Oh, yeah.

  Pouring a glass of wine, she made her way toward the living room. A loud crash from her sliding-glass door triggered the alarm and as she whirled around, tossing the glass, she saw Hernando stalking toward her. Her feet rooted to the floor, she watched as he moved closer. As her eyes dropped from his angry face, she saw what was in his hand. A gun.

  “You bitch,” he shouted over the screaming of the alarm.

  Jolted out of her surprise, she darted toward the front door, only to find her escape thwarted as he clamped her arm in his vise grip.

  “Where is she?” he growled, squeezing her arm. “Give her up and I’ll leave.”

  “Go to hell,” she said, gritting her teeth at the pain in her arm. “She’s where you’ll never find her.” Her head jerked to the side as his free hand slapped her face. Stars danced behind her eyes as she tried to regain her balance.

  “Then you’re coming with me, bitch,” he yelled, backhanding her on the other side of her face. He started dragging her through the house toward the shattered door.

  Her feet hit the broken glass and she screamed as she began to fall. Still dragging her behind him, her legs and knees went through the glass. The sound of sirens filled the night air, even interrupting the sounds of her alarms.

  “Goddamnit,” he screamed again, dragging her backward. Shoving her toward the sofa, he growled, “You’re gonna be my ticket outta here.”

  The piercing alarm continued to shatter what was left of Sherrie’s nerves and one look at Hernando showed the same. “Let me shut off the alarm. Please,” she begged, watching him pace waving the gun wildly.

  His eyes landed back on her and he lifted his hand with the gun pointing straight to her, saying, “Do it. But one step outta line, bitch, and you won’t make it outta here al
ive.”

  Her rubbery legs and cut feet barely held her as she made her way over to the panel by the front door. Can I make it? Can I get outside? A cold metallic object pressed into her side.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said as though reading her mind.

  Her hands shaking, she quickly pressed the code into the panel, silencing the alarm. The sudden quiet was as jarring as the alarm. Only now she could hear her heart beat erratically inside her chest.

  By now, the flashing lights of the police were illuminating through her blinds. Keeping her head still, she glanced upwards at the security camera. Tony’s words ran through her mind. I have this placed watched. A live feed goes into my place. I employ several people who monitor the video feeds.

  Hernando threw open the front door, holding Sherrie in front of him, the tip of the gun pressed to her head. “Back off,” he shouted. “You get any closer and she’s dead.”

  With his arm around her in a vise, her gaze darted out of the door trying to see in the dark. Movement. Police cars. Flashing lights. Tony? Are you there too?

  “Mr. Velasquez, this is the Richland Police. You need to lay down your weapon and let Ms. Mullins go. Once she is free—”

  Hernando’s answer was to slam the door, dragging Sherrie behind him as he moved away from the windows in the front of her house. Sweat pouring off of his face, he pushed her down on the floor in the hallway between the kitchen and the stairs. “Sit there bitch and don’t move. I know how this’ll work. They’ll call and talk, wanting me to give up. But I’ll outsmart them all. You’ll be my ticket outta here.”

  Sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chin, she looked up, her heart pounding in her chest. Tony’ll come, I just know it. Staring at the man in front of her, fear still kept her immobilized. Hernando’s crazy. How will Tony fight crazy?

  A slight movement to her left caught her eye. Tony? she hoped. A face moved slightly from the laundry room giving her a glimpse of…Bernard? Holy shit, what is he doing here? And in his hand…a gun? Seeing a barely perceptible shake of his head, she quickly looked back in the opposite direction, not wanting to give away his location.

  *

  Tony’s men, in military precision, quickly grabbed their mission gear that was always within ready reach and jumped into the SUVs. Gabe drove one with Tony as shotgun rider. Jobe in the back seat had Matt on the phone following what the police were doing. Vinny driving the other, had BJ on his laptop pulling up the floorplans of Sherrie’s little Victorian house.

  “Jesus, Tony. Her old house has twists and turns and little rooms,” BJ groused, knowing that could impair access.

  Jobe reported from Matt, “Back glass door at the dining room was shattered, setting off the alarm. Hernando surprised her and has her hostage. The police verbally engaged him but he’s back in the house, holding her hostage.”

  BJ pulled up the security camera footage, then clipped, “There’s a second man inside. Snuck in while the police were just pulling into the front. Looks like he went from the dining room door through the kitchen and is hiding in the laundry room.”

  “What the fuck?” Tony roared. “There’s someone with Hernando?”

  “Don’t think so. Looks like he came in and is hiding. And Tony? He’s armed. And swear to God, it looks like a little old man.”

  “Goddamn it,” Tony cursed. “Get Matt on the phone.”

  Jobe patched back through to Matt and handed the phone to Tony. “Matt? Have someone go next door and see if Bernard Kotowski is home. He’s a neighbor. Former military from the Vietnam era and we think he’s snuck into Sherrie’s house and is hiding. May be armed.”

  He could hear Matt shouting orders and cursing at the same time. “We don’t need some rogue old man reliving his glory days with an attempted hostage rescue,” he growled.

  Tony tossed the phone back to Jobe. His stomach churned. I should have kept a man on her. I should have not let her go home alone. I should have—

  “Tony?” Gabe’s voice broke through his tortured thoughts. Tony’s gaze jerked toward him as the lights of the night passed the windows, casting shadows over the face of his friend.

  “Stop. Whatever the hell’s going through your mind right now, just stop. This isn’t your fault. You gotta get your head back into the mission, sir, or I’ll personally sideline you,” Gabe continued.

  Tony lifted an eyebrow at the threat, but knew enough about successful missions to know if he went in half-cocked, Sherrie’s life could be compromised. So a nod was his only response as he turned back to Jobe to ask about an update.

  “ETA is three minutes, boss,” came Vinny’s voice over the radio. BJ chimed in, “Tony? Looks like Sherrie’s house has a partial basement and partial crawl space. You ever been down there?”

  “Crawl space, no. The basement is little more than a cellar. It’s about ten by twenty and is used for storage. Door is off of the kitchen near mid-hall.”

  Gabe added, “It’s only got two small crawl-through windows that we alarmed when we were at her house.”

  “What about the attic?” BJ asked. “Where do the attic stairs come down into?”

  “The hall outside the bedrooms. Never been up there. Fuck, how could I have not checked out the attic?

  “Then, sir, it looks like the attic is still the best entrance into the house,” BJ added.

  Tony nodded and, glancing back at Jobe, growled, “Get Matt and call it in.”

  Parking away from the driveway Tony and his men jumped out of their vehicles, grabbing their gear. Kevlar under tight, black, long-sleeved shirts, black cargo pants, night vision goggles and armed to the teeth, they headed over to meet Matt and Shane.

  Shane nodded his greeting, then said, “Hostage negotiator isn’t happy about you being here, but the chief gives his support.”

  “Fuck the negotiator,” Tony bit out.

  Matt placed his arm on his friend, saying, “Easy, man. His job is to get everyone out alive, including the neighbor who you say may be in there.”

  “Don’t give a fuck about Hernando and I hate to see Bernard get hurt, but goddamnit it, he put himself in harm’s way when he snuck in wanting to play the hero.” Turning to stare Matt, and then Shane, directly in their eyes, he continued. “Got one plan. Get Sherrie out alive. Anything else? Don’t give a fuck.”

  Matt and Shane having both rescued their wives from dangerous situations just nodded. They got it. Family first. And Sherrie was family.

  *

  Sherrie’s mind raced, trying to decide what to do. Bernard was hiding in the laundry room and was armed. Tony has a gun in the nightstand by his bed, but that’s upstairs. No way could she get to it. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pajama bottoms, trying to still her pounding heart.

  I know Tony’s outside. I know he’s planning something. Think. Think. Her eyes darted around, desperate to help. Closing her eyes for a moment, she quickly thought of her house. What would Tony do? Attic? Her eyes popped open as she thought about the stairs to the attic from the upstairs hallway. Her breasts heaved in panic as she thought it through. No, he’s never been up there…he’d never chance it.

  Her gaze moved to Hernando as he stood over her, shifting his gaze between the front door and the back. Her cell phone rang, the sound coming from the kitchen counter.

  “Get it,” he ordered. “Might be the police ready to make a deal.”

  Licking her lips nervously she stood, her feet bleeding as she walked to the counter. Her gaze went to the kitchen window, but she could not see out. Wondering if the police had surrounded the house and were watching her now, she picked up her phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Ms. Mullins? This is Sergeant Levin and I’m here to help get you and Mr. Velazquez out safely. Are you all right?”

  “Ye…yes,” she answered.

  “Does he have a weapon on you now?”

  Glancing back at the barrel of the gun pointed directly at her, she nodded, forgetting to speak out lou
d.

  “Ms. Mullins, we have a visual on you from the kitchen window and see you nodding. Is he behind the kitchen wall?”

  Before she could answer, Hernando barked, “Give me the phone, bitch.” She handed it to him and he motioned for her to sit down in the hall again.

  “You want to talk, pig? You talk to me,” Hernando said. “I want out and you’re gonna help me get out or this bitch is dead.”

  The negotiator and Hernando continued to talk for a few minutes; he kept the gun trained on her as he rattled off his demands.

  Her eyes darted once again toward the laundry room where she could see Benard now squatting on the floor, trying to aim his gun around the corner. Her eyes grew round as she tried to indicate that he needed to stay quiet and with the barest shake of her head, he moved back a bit.

  Her mind racing again, she glanced at the door next to the laundry room. The basement! Tony could come through there. He’d been down there when she had asked for help storing some boxes. Closing her eyes again, she thought of the two small windows. Can he get through? Wiping her hands on her pajamas again, she swallowed back the bile that threatened to come up. Her gaze sought out Bernard’s once more. It may just be up to us, she thought. Oh, Jesus help us.

  *

  Matt and Shane kept vigil outside hidden by the bushes, their eyes trained on the two men as Tony and Vinny ascended the ladder placed against the house. The placement of the ladder allowed them to be unseen by anyone on the inside of the house and it lead to the small attic window. The two men were so silent, not a sound was heard.

  “Damn, I’m good, but not that good,” Matt admitted.

  Jobe nodded his appreciation of their feats. “Special Forces training. Most missions we went on, absolute silence and surprise was essential.” Nodding toward the now closed attic window, he added, “And Captain Alvarez was the best. Never seen a man train so hard.”

  Gabe added, pride in his voice, “And Vinny? Best sniper we had.”

  The four of them silently spread out among the police that had their eyes on the house. Always trained to keep their focus one-hundred percent on the mission, a look passed between Jobe and Gabe, each knowing what flashed through the other’s mind. Let Sherrie be safe, ’cause their boss—and friend—couldn’t survive another loss.