by Mia Kenney
The sound of pebbles hitting the undercarriage of the car and smell of dirt and dust alerts me that the driver has turned from the highway. I’m sure Cisco is taking me to some place in the middle of the desert to kill me. A place where I can be buried in a shallow grave and never found.
We come to a stop and I can hear mumbling but can’t make out what is being said. If someone doesn’t get me out of here soon I’m going to suffocate. I know Cisco won’t let that happen. It would be too easy of a death for someone who tried to escape him. I try to calm myself by thinking of things that make me happy. Romeo. He fills me with peace. When I close my eyes and block out all the other shit swirling around me right now, I can still feel his touch on my skin and his rough voice whispering in my ear.
The trunk abruptly pops open. The bright light is blinding and I’m not able to focus. Powerless to shield my eyes, I attempt to roll my head to the side. A strong hand reaches in and pulls me up by my matted hair.
“Mr. Escobar, she’s still alive.” His accent is thick and I don’t recognize the voice. Cisco has so many people working for him there’s no way to know who it is.
“Good. I’m not done with her. Take her inside.” Cisco’s footsteps swiftly fade off in the distance.
Seconds later I’m hoisted out of the cramped car, my arms still tied behind my back.
“Mr. Escobar isn’t going to like this, chica.” He speaks the words into my ear, the heat of his sour breath making my stomach do somersaults. My body tenses as his hands roam over my breasts and squeeze, hard.
“Chica, you’re gonna be a fun one to break,” he chuckles, pulling me by my elbow away from the car.
Cisco has brought me to a small airport hanger somewhere in the desert. With his money and connections I feel pretty confident he owns this place and everybody in it.
“Fuck you,” I groan and stumble along as he pushes me further into a building. There’s a small personal aircraft, the kind people call “puddle jumpers”, and a helicopter.
“Maybe Mr. Escobar let me fuck you today, chica. You like that, heh?” He grins, exposing a mouth with missing teeth.
I spit in his face.
“You leettle beetch.” He’s too quick and I don’t move fast enough to avoid the slap across my face. The taste of copper fills my mouth. My eyes burn and I want to burst into tears but I’ll be damned to hell before I let any of these assholes see me cry.
My thoughts shift to Romeo as I’m dragged through the plane hanger. I have no idea if Cade even found the note I shoved into his pocket or if he would even care. I was such a fool for not telling Romeo the truth. The hurt and anger I saw in his eyes when Cisco said he was my husband broke my heart. I can’t blame Romeo for never wanting to see me again. He didn’t even ask if I wanted to leave with Cisco, he just handed me over without ever looking back.
The men begin shouting to each other in rapid fire Spanish, and even though I’m fluent my head is spinning from being dehydrated and smacked around. I’m not able to follow the conversation and before I know it I’m slumped over onto the floor.
“I don’t have time for her right now. Throw her in the back room, I’ll take care of her later. And no fuckin’ her. At least not until I say so.” Cisco stares down at me, a look of disgust across his face. “I can’t believe you were fuckin’ that military guy. What a loser. Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you? That you could just run away and hide the rest of your life? Nobody leaves me, Anna. Nobody.” Cisco flicks cigarette ashes onto my head. A faint whimper passes over my lips and he laughs. “My stupid Anna. You never were smart. Always wanting to help others and giving money to children’s charities. Painting your stupid pictures. Now look where that’s landed you. I’ve promised my men they could fuck you, but I think I’ll go first. You know, for old times sake. I never did get what was promised to me. Your papa and I had a deal. You were to be my virgin bride. I could have given you everything Anna. But you ruined it. And because of you breaking the deal I had to kill your papa too. He was a hard fucker to kill, didn’t make it easy. You should have seen how he suffered. And it's all your fault.”
Now I know why my father never came looking for me. He’s been dead this entire time. This news doesn’t make me feel sad though. The day he killed my mom and sold me will always be the day I consider myself orphaned.
Cisco snaps his fingers. “Miguel. Get her filthy whoring ass out of my sight.”
So the toothless asshole has a name. Miguel. I groan when he grabs my hair and drags me to the back room. The door slams behind me and the deadbolt lock clicks.
It takes several minutes for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. The room has a concrete floor with a stained cot shoved against the far wall. God only knows what atrocities have occurred here.
12
Romeo
“Cade’s hacking into all of Escobar’s accounts,” Finn grunts.
“I want everything, now!” My fist comes flying down and I can only wish it was Escobar’s face I was punching. The table vibrates and pens roll all over.
“I’m taking this fucker down. If anybody here has a problem with that you can walk out now.” Slowly, I glance around the table, holding the gaze of every man until he gives me an almost unperceivable nod. Even though they’re my SEAL Team, I need to know they have my back. This isn’t going to be a typical battle. It’s off record and emotions are involved. I’ll do whatever it takes to get Katalina back.
“Consider this war. There are no fuckin’ rules. This is Francisco Escobar, the most established and ruthless drug lord in the world. And he had the balls to walk into my building and take my girl.” It almost kills me to say that last part. Few people have ever seen Escobar, and even fewer pictures exist. I handed her right over to him. I didn’t even fight for her. She probably hates me for that but there’s no way I’m letting him keep her.
“Romeo,” Cade interrupts. I can tell by his sharp tone that he’s got intel.
“Show me what you’ve got.” I gesture to the large computer monitor on the wall. Cade dims the lights and it’s almost like being in a movie theater. Except everything in here is covert and highly illegal by the government’s standards. Cade’s a goddamned genius at this technology stuff.
“What the hell am I looking at?” asks Chaos.
Noble chimes in too. “Yeah Cade, we don’t have your brain. What do all these numbers mean?”
“It means I’m a numbers whore,” Cade rumbles, clicking through various screens. “Look guys. These are all vehicle identification numbers, or VINs. I was able to use the plate numbers from the surveillance footage and find his exact car.”
“So what the hell good does it do us,” I roar, wondering where Cade is taking this.
“It means I was able to trace where the original purchase took place. Looks like our man Escobar has expensive taste and lots of cash. According to the records he paid over one hundred grand for this particular Mercedes model.”
“I didn’t expect him to be driving around in a jalopy. Get to the fucking point.” I know I need to reign in my temper. My men aren’t accustomed to seeing me out of control like this.
“The point is this, boss man. He upgraded everything in this baby. Including the GPS system. My gut tells me this dumb fucker doesn’t even know he’s driving around in a traceable car. Hell, it will only take me a few minutes to get a direct lock onto his car.”
For the first time today I breath and rub my sternum.
“Find him. Now,” I say.
Cade’s fingers fly across one of several keyboards in front of him. I have no idea what the hell it is he’s doing but he’s the best. Thank fuck for that.
“Whoa, is this real time?” Chaos asks.
“There’s a two and a half second delay. It’s as real as it gets. Now watch, I’m going to zoom in.”
Cade works his hand across a device and suddenly the screen goes from a distant visual of California to a hanger in the Mojave Desert.
“Your girl
is here. There’s Escobar’s car. My guess is he has her in that hanger.”
“They could be in the air over the Pacific Ocean by now,” I bark.
“That’s a negative. I’ve already hacked into the Federal Aviation’s flight records. There hasn’t been any record of take off or landing from this location in six months. Something tells me he’s keeping her there for a reason. If he was going to fly somewhere they would have left by now.”
“And exactly where is this hanger? What’s the ETA?”
“Barstow, California. Mojave Desert. It’s a huge shit hole in the middle of nowhere. Best known for gas stations and polluted water.”
My head is killing me knowing I gave her right into Escobar’s hands. Just the thought of her being harmed makes my fists clench.
Cade continues, “And well known for their production of meth. Think about it. It’s halfway between Vegas and Los Angeles. That Escobar fucker is probably using Katalina in some type of drug trade.”
My fist pounds the table. I have no doubt Kat hates my guts now but I’m not going to give up on her. I already did that once. Whether she knows it or not she is mine. My dumbass let a drug kingpin stroll right into my building and take her away. Now it's time to get her back.
“Cade.” His head snaps up on my command.
Still standing, I cross my arms over my chest. “We can’t just drive up to this hanger. Escobar’s men will see us coming from miles away.”
I purposefully hesitate. What I’m about to ask requires all of my men to be on board. This is the SEAL way of giving a man the opportunity to walk away from a mission.
No one’s ass moves.
I hadn’t expected anything less.
I start with Chaos and work my way around the table, making eye contact with each member of my team and only moving on to the next after a tilt of their chin.
“Fuck yeah!” Chaos shouts. “Let’s blow shit up and get your girl.”
My girl. Two words that make me feel like a better man who isn’t completely heartless.
Chaos. He earned his nickname. Always eager to engage the enemy.
“Chaos, shut the fuck up and sit back down. This isn’t Fallujah. We can’t roll a tank down the road in goddamn California and blow shit up.”
All eyes are on me. I know I could order them to drive that fuckin’ tank down the Vegas strip and they wouldn’t hesitate. I love each and every one of these courageous fuckers.
“We’re going in tonight. Operation Malt Liquor. For Kat's safety it has to be a HALO jump.” I’m not taking the risk of Escobar and his goons hearing the plane overhead. They could pick us off one by one as we float to the ground.
I pause, letting the mission sink into my SEALs heads. I don’t have to tell them it’s dangerous. Every mission we do is treacherous to our health. Good thing none of us gives a fuck.
Feeling like I should be beating on my chest I bark out supplies and orders. “Oxygen. Thermal jumpsuits and gloves. Night vision goggles. Enough ammo and grenades to take out the southern hemisphere. And I’m getting my girl.”
My girl.
“The Landing Zone will be Sam Adams Winter. That will put us five clicks south of the hanger. We’ll regroup at waypoint number one, Kentucky Bourbon.” I flick the red laser light across the map on the monitor. Their heads move in unison, and I know they’re memorizing my strategy.
It’s easy to see they’re all ready for a fight. Testosterone pumps through the room and they’re twitching in their seats. I fuckin’ love the planning of a take down almost as much as the fighting itself.
“Kentucky Bourbon puts us about one click south of the enemy. Easy sniper range if needed. The terrain is tough, our only cover will be cacti and tumbleweeds. From what we know the hanger only has two windows, both on the west side.”
“Makes sense,” Chaos grunts, “that hanger would be hotter than hell with windows facing the east.”
I give a quick nod of agreement before continuing, “Thermal imaging shows Katalina is locked in a small room, the size of a large closet or bathroom. It’s on the west side of the building.” I swallow hard at the thought of her bound, gagged, and lying on some cold dirty floor. The image darkens my mood even more.
“Briggs is flying us in. Waypoint number two will be Black Bush Whisky.” I circle the hanger with the red laser light for emphasis. “Noble, Finn, and Rocco, your asses will be covering the hanger entrance. Chaos is coming with me. We’ll be stacking two tons of C-4 explosives to the east wall. Chaos will detonate the charge on Grey Goose. While Chaos is blowing all those fuckers up I’ll whoosh in and grab my girl.”
The Santa Ana winds bounce us around the back of the C-130 like bouys in the Baltic Sea. Between the roar of the engine and Mother Nature’s coaster of turbulence it’s impossible to be heard. A quick peek at the cockpit dashboard confirms my gut feeling that we’re hanging around the thirty thousand feet mark. Briggs’ gruff voice rumbles the “all clear, sir” into my ear piece. It’s showtime.
I hand signal my men to put on their ear pieces and oxygen masks. It’s time to rock n’ roll. With all eyes on me I give them my best shit eating grin. I can’t see their expressions behind the night vision goggles and shemaghs wrapped around their heads. Their postures and thumbs up tell me everything I need to know. We’re ready and willing for a fuckin’ massacre.
Standing at the edge of the open doorway, I look out into a sea of black. Even the god damn stars are hiding tonight. Falling to Earth from thirty thousand feet isn’t for pussies. Plenty of men don’t survive a jump from this height but my SEALs are the best of the best, and we all have each other’s backs. I reach up and release the hook, inhale a chest full of oxygen through the mask, and leap into the below zero night. Adrenaline pumps through me. As far as I’m concerned there’s no bigger high than those first moments free falling through the clouds.
Almost immediately my balls freeze and crystals of ice form on my tactical suit. After the first one thousand feet or so the sensation of falling is replaced with the feeling of flying. Every second airborne puts me closer to my innocent Katalina. She has every reason not to forgive me but I know I’ll love her forever. I’m going to tear that fucker Escobar apart, one layer of skin at a time. Stay alive sweetheart, I’m coming. And I’m going to kill him.
The hum of the plane engine quickly fades as I fall through the dark. With my AK-47 strapped across my chest and extra ammo clips hanging from my hips I’m ready for a blood bath. The altimeter wrapped around my wrist glows red at four thousand feet. A fast pull on the release and my chute deploys, the canopy spreading high over me and slowing my descent. It feels like I’m floating forever as I pilot myself down and hit the desert ground with a soft thud. I swear under my breath and quickly toss off my thermal suit, leaving me in camouflage desert tactical gear. I’ve never been so fuckin’ cold in all my life, but there’s no time to be a bitch.
“Sam Adams Winter, one,” I mumble into my vibration activated microphone. It’s attached to my ear piece with razor thin wire which forms along the contour of the side of my jaw.
“Cruz has arrived at Sam Adams Winter, copy.”
“That’s an affirmative, Cruz,” Briggs responds almost immediately. “Enjoy your walk. Copy.”
Within minutes of landing I make radio contact with all my men. We’re spread out and staggered, approaching our first waypoint in a horizontal line. The night vision goggles we’re all wearing allow for the occasional glimpse of one another. Even though we’re keeping radio silent we have each other’s backs. I check my compass and keep going north. We’re not running but we’re not walking either. Our pace is steady and right on time.
“Rendezvous with Cruz at Kentucky Bourbon, copy.” Briggs says through the ear piece.
“Affirmative. Chaos at Kentucky Bourbon, copy.”
“Noble at Kentucky Bourbon, copy.”
There’s a long pause before Finn reports back. “Got sidetracked. Rattle snake. Finn at Kentucky Bourbon, copy.�
�
Shit. I forgot about those damn poisonous snakes. Hope he didn’t have to kill it. We’re on snake territory. I’ll have to remember to ask Finn what happened later on.
“Black Bush Whisky approximately one click north.” My hands adjust to the binoculars and focus on the building. It’s dark with no movement. The hairs on the back of my neck tingle.
“Fuck me. Escobar is either a dumbass or on the run. And my money is on running.” I quicken my pace knowing my men are behind me.
“Briggs, do you follow? Copy.”
“Affirmative. Copy.”
“Get Cade on the line. Now. I want to know where Escobar is. Copy.”
“Affirmative, Fucker In Charge. Copy.”
I reach the hanger first, and I roll right into the fuckin’ building.
“Cruz, its Cade. Copy.”
My trigger finger twitches. When I get my hands on this fucker I’m going to rip him apart.
“Cade. The doors are still open on the Mercedes. Looks like Escobar hauled ass out of here. Anything show up on the flight reports? Copy.”
He clears his throat in my ear. I already know this isn’t good. He’s trying to buy fractions of a second.
“No flight reports, boss man. Looks like Escobar has someone from the FAA on his payroll. Shouldn’t be too hard to find out who it is. Copy.”
“Screw that. We don’t have time for this bullshit. He’s got Kat. No doubt he’s taking her to Mexico. Get us there. NOW. Copy.”