by Sable Hunter
“No, you won’t.” Noah looked Mateo in the eye. “You’ll be going home with me. My mother cares about you and I could always use another brother.”
A small band of Texans invade Mexico…
Santiago and three of the McCoy brothers were waiting for them on the tarmac when they touched down in a small airport outside of Juarez. Bowie Travis and Tanner Barron were also there with them.
“Strange meeting the Governor of Texas on the wrong side of the border.” Santiago teased Kyle with a handshake.
“Landing here is easier than crossing the border unnoticed,” Kyle observed dryly. “Although my wife is from Mexico, I come down here often enough. Maybe, I should hold official ambassador status if nothing else.”
“Yea, when the rumors leak out that you’re considering a run for the presidency, some might be confused which nation you’re more interested in running,” Micah teased.
“I could see some benefit in uniting the two nations.” Kyle knew he was talking nonsense, but the situation needed some levity. “Do you have everything ready?”
“Si. I’ve arranged a room for the four of you at a separate location. All of the equipment we’ll need is in a warehouse nearby. But I caution you, we must act quickly. News travels fast around here and when word gets out there is a stash of guns and ammo sitting around unguarded, the cartels will go after it.”
Santiago’s words gave Jet an idea. “You know. That might not be the worst thing.” Everyone turned to look at him for elaboration. “Like Santiago just said, that much stuff lying around is bound to draw the attention of the cartels. Maybe we should sit on it for a few days. Let word get around and see who comes for the weapons. We could be there waiting for them, grab a few bad guys and see what they know.”
Kyle listened intently then turned to Micah for his take.
“I hate to give the big guy credit for having a good idea, but it’s actually a fairly decent plan. Make them come to us.”
Noah McCoy stepped up quickly. He was flanked by Isaac on one side and a young Hispanic boy he’d introduced as Mateo, Sofia’s friend. “This is some kind of bad joke right? You aren’t seriously considering this?”
Kyle didn’t answer right away. Micah was essentially the brains of the operation and Kyle leaned heavily on his opinions when it came to strategy and how to proceed. “How decent of an idea is it?” Kyle directed the question to Micah.
Micah mulled it over. “Well, there are many factors to consider. We are fairly certain where to find Sofia, but we don’t know what the place looks like on the inside or how many guards are there or how many weapons they have. Plus, we don’t even know where exactly in the building she’s being held. It would be a big help if we could get our hands on a few of their guys and ask them some questions.”
“I feel like I’m in an episode of the fucking Twilight Zone,” Noah snapped.
Jacob put an arm on his brother’s shoulder. “Easy Noah.”
Noah pulled away. “Bullshit! You know who your mother is. I’ve never met mine. And for all we know, they could be killing her right now, while we sit here and talk about waiting. Waiting for what? For a package to show-up with another finger? Or an ear? Or her heart?”
Jacob and Isaac pulled Noah away from the pack to calm him down.
“There’s always that too,” Micah spoke up when Noah was out of range. “As much as I do like Jet’s idea, this doesn’t seem like the right situation to bide our time. I think we have to get organized quickly and strike while we can. Sofia may not have long.”
Kyle took a second to weigh their options. Like any good leader, he hated the idea of his guys going into a fight blind, but Micah and Noah were right, time was of the essence.
They rolled out and planned to meet at the warehouse at separate times, just in case they’d been made and were being followed. Kyle wasn’t going to make it easy for the cartel’s assassins to just pick them all off if an ambush was waiting for them.
Santiago took the Equalizers to the place he’d arranged for them and then met the rest of the group at the warehouse. Kyle would wait for a call from Jacob McCoy and then meet them at the warehouse two hours later.
“You think she’s still alive?” Saxon asked Jet while they waited in a dingy one-room apartment for the call.
Jet sharpened a hunting knife he always brought with him into combat. The sound of the steel grating on the whet stone shattered the still air. “I don’t know, buddy. I know how greedy these cartels can be. Money is always at the top of their list. But they are a bloodthirsty bunch to be certain. Life means nothing to them. For all we know, she’s been dead since the day she walked into the Hidalgo. They may just be bluffing.”
“This isn’t just a cartel issue. If Sofia and Marisol are right, these men are serial killers running a snuff film ring. I know there’s money in the films, but nothing compared to drugs. I don’t really understand all of this,” Micah played with his phone, wishing he could text Madison.
“Power is a funny thing,” Saxon began, “the more you have the more you want. Being a cartel kingpin is definitely a plum job, but holding another person’s life in your hands provides a high for some that is more addictive than heroin. Combine sex with a god complex and monsters are born.”
After Saxon’s comment, their conversation died down. A disturbing realization dawned on each of them that this clash might be different. Although rescuing Sofia was their prime objective, there might be other innocents in the building and if they could take out the men responsible it would be like eradicating a deadly plague.
They all had their own way of dealing with the wait.
Kyle read emails; the governor never stopped being the governor.
Jet was quiet; he focused on the upcoming battle and readied his weapons.
Saxon was always the most nervous of the team. Micah liked to tease him about all the Red Bull he drank. “The enemy is gonna hear you vibrating a mile away,” he’d say when they went on a mission. Saxon always had a few questions to ask. He seemed to forever be asking them of Jet; it seemed the stoic warrior’s calmness helped to counteract Saxon’s anxiety.
Micah on the other hand, never let his nerves show. The wolf was always cool under pressure. He could be mere moments from parachuting into hostile territory, but still be jotting down notes for an upcoming story.
Unable to deny himself any longer, Micah fired off a text to Madison. Everything workout okay? Kyle would be pissed if he knew Micah was texting her. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to tell her where he was going, nobody was even supposed to know where they were. He’d found he didn’t want to keep things from Madison, that little girl was turning his world upside down.
Madison’s response was immediate and Micah fumbled to put his phone on mute so he didn’t give himself away.
Logan was very nice. He brought Jenna with him. I like her a lot. I got my stuff and came back right away. Are you safe?
Madison sat on the big leather couch in Micah’s living room. Thunderpunch had taken to her right away and he lay next to her leg, letting Madison pet him as he slept. She was beside herself with worry. Madison didn’t know everything about Micah or everything he was involved in, but she did know some of it could be dangerous. The fact that he’d only told her he was traveling to Mexico and no further details, had her mind racing with worry.
Everything is fine down here. We just came down to grab a few margaritas.
Micah was glad she was safely back at his place. She had enough to worry about in her own life, the last thing he wanted her to do was worry about him.
We have margaritas here, you know. I would have made them for you. Normally Madison loved their little text exchanges, but this time the mood felt heavy.
Kyle came into the room. “It’s time to go.”
Gotta go, Fellows. Fidel Castro just pulled up and I have to go say hello.
I thought Fidel Castro was Cuban?
But Micah didn’t respond. She picked up Thunderpunch a
nd squeezed him tight. The cat seemed to pick up on Madison’s distress and allowed himself to be held. Madison prayed for Micah’s safety. When he returned home, she vowed she’d lock him in her heart and throw away the key.
CHAPTER NINE
The A Team rides again…
The warehouse was dusty and hot. It’d been a packaging warehouse for fruit for many years, but had long ago been abandoned when the cartels moved into town and ran the owner out with threats.
Everyone crowded around a small table.
“I hate to say it,” Kyle started, “but due to time constraints and limited intel on the property, this is gonna be a pretty basic operation. We’re just gonna load up a few vans, drive in there and take out whoever we need to until we find Sofia.”
Micah oiled a Walther PPK in his hand. “So, this is just like all our other missions,” he joked.
“Not quite. One van will drive up to the front of the building and try to cause a diversion. Meanwhile, the other will drive around back under the guise of being a liquor delivery van. When the van out front causes a commotion, the group around back will spring into action. Their goal is to secure the rear of the club and begin a search. The van out front is going to serve as a distraction. If you need to start firing off rounds, go ahead. We need you to draw out as many enemies as possible and keep them busy so we can sweep the building and retrieve the target.”
Noah McCoy was still on the razor’s edge emotionally. Kyle considered asking him to stay behind, but he knew Noah would never go for it.
Noah looked at his watch; the sun had just disappeared from the sky for the night. “When are we going?”
Kyle knew he wasn’t going to like the response he gave, but then again, Kyle was used to telling people things they didn’t want to hear. “Four a.m.” He could see Noah starting to bubble up. McCoy wanted to go right away. “I know you don’t want to wait, Noah. But it’s the best thing to do.”
“A liquor delivery at four in the morning?” Jacob questioned.
“I know.” Kyle folded his arms over his broad chest. “It might not fly, but we need some sort of cover and it’s better than driving into the back lot and just sitting there.”
“Why are we waiting so long?” Noah demanded to know.
Micah took over for Kyle. “The best thing for us to do right now is wait. We let the bad guys who want to get drunk tonight, get drunk. We let them get drunk and we let them get tired. We wait until they let their guard down, then we hit them head on with all the force we can muster. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather burst in on a bad guy who’s half in the bag, than one who’s holding a gun, ready for anything.” He looked Noah right in the eye. “I know you don’t want to wait, McCoy, but it’s the best thing we can do for us and for your mother.”
The hours passed by agonizingly slow. Kyle went over what they knew of the building and the men who held Sofia, which wasn’t much.
Jet had dozed off in the van he was going to be driving.
Isaac and Jacob McCoy sat with their brother, offering as much comfort and support as they could, reassuring him that Kyle knew what he was doing and that Sofia would make it out alive.
“We’re going to have lots and lots of family dinners with your mom,” Isaac told him.
“I know,” Noah sighed. “I know. I just feel helpless.”
“Angel Rubio has the hand of God on her, Noah,” Mateo assured him. “He will take care of her.”
With that solemn observation, they all quieted down while the clock ticked.
An hour later, Micah shook Jet’s boot. “Time to go, big fella.”
The time had arrived. The vans were loaded with their equipment and everyone except the drivers were suited up in black clothing from head to toe. The group looked like a Special Forces unit straight out of a movie and Kyle hoped their appearance would scare some of the bad guys into surrendering right away.
They drove in silence. Jet behind the wheel of one van, Isaac McCoy behind the wheel of the other. When they reached a designated spot a mile from the Hidalgo Club, the vans split up. Isaac took the street leading right to the club’s front door, while Jet circled around behind to a small back lot where supplies for the club would be unloaded.
Kyle picked up his walkie-talkie. “You guys ready to rock and roll?”
“Ready as we’re ever going to be,” Jacob responded.
“I’ve got a crazy idea,” Micah said before pulling a black ski mask down over his face. “How about some time we come back to Mexico for a vacation, instead of always getting shot at?”
Isaac McCoy pulled the van slowly down the middle of the road. On the sidewalks to either side of him, drunk partygoers staggered home from a long night of drinking and cavorting. “The party never stops in Juarez, does it,” he said to himself.
The neon Club Hidalgo sign had been turned off for the night and a rough group of men stood on the front curb, passing a bottle of liquor back and forth between them while they smoked. Isaac pressed the brake pedal and stopped about forty yards from the building. Immediately the men on the sidewalk took notice of the van.
“Looks like we’ve been spotted, boys,” Isaac said through the curtain that shielded the back of the van from view.
Jacob McCoy lifted the walkie-talkie to his lips. “We’re in position.”
“Let’s move out,” Kyle instructed Jet from the back of the other van.
Micah, Saxon, Santiago and Tanner were in the back of the van with Kyle as Jet pulled it around the back of Club Hidalgo and backed it up to the loading door.
“Looks like we’re about to have company,” Isaac said as two men stepped off the curb and approached the van. “And not the friendly kind either.” The approaching men had drawn guns from beneath their jackets.
Noah, Mateo, Jacob and Bowie steeled themselves in the back. The back doors had been welded shut, if the approaching men wanted in, the only way was to come through the side doors and the troops inside were waiting for them.
The loud beeping of Jet’s reversing van caught the attention of the men inside Club Hidalgo. A squat man with a thick black moustache came out from behind a gray steel door and looked at the van. Jet eyed him in his side mirror. The man rubbed his eyes and fastened his belt as he approached.
Jet smiled. “So sorry, amigo. Did I wake you up?”
The man came to Jet’s door and they exchanged words in Spanish.
In the back of the van, adrenaline pumped through everyone’s veins. The silence was maddening, but they’d all been in situations like this and the thunder of their hearts beating in their ears made the men feel alive.
Jet exited the van and came around to the rear. When he opened one of the back doors, Saxon leaned forward, snatched the Mexican man by the shirt and yanked him into the van. Micah stepped in next to the surprised gentleman who now lay flat on his back on the floor with a knife to his throat. “Where is Angel Rubio being held?” Micah asked in a threatening tone.
The man answered in Spanish, telling them he didn’t know what they were talking about.
Micah pressed the knife harder against the man’s throat and asked again.
This time the man told the truth. The woman was tied up in the basement of the club, along with several other young women.
Out front, Isaac McCoy tipped his hat when the approaching men came to his open window. “Fellas. How are you?” They responded in Spanish. “No habla Espanol.”
“What are you doing here?” The man now asked in English. He had nicotine stained teeth and acne scars on his cheeks.
“Just out for a drive. It’s a nice night.” Isaac pointed up to the stars.
The man peered into the van suspiciously while his partner went around to the passenger side.
Around back, Kyle and the rest of his crew had moved into position at the rear entrance to Club Hidalgo. Once Jacob McCoy gave the signal, they would be good to go.
“What’s taking so long?” Saxon asked as they waited.
&
nbsp; On the other side of the club, a gun was being thrust into Isaac’s face. “Open the side doors!”
Isaac raised his hands. “Easy partner. No need for that.” There was a nine millimeter taped to the door beside him in case there was trouble, but it was going to be hard to get to it in time when he was staring down the barrel of a Smith and Wesson.
Isaac’s companions in the back could hear everything. Their guns were already locked, loaded and trained on the side door of the van. Kyle had been very specific with his instruction before they left the warehouse. Shoot first, ask questions later.
And that’s exactly what Jacob McCoy did when the van door burst open. His shot hit the intruder in the shoulder and knocked him off of his feet. Isaac reached out his window the second he heard the shot and pushed the gun in his face away. With his other hand, he pushed open the door, the force sending the man outside his door reeling back and to the ground.
“I’d say that’s our signal,” Jet muttered as he yanked the door to the back of Club Hidalgo wide open. Santiago and Tanner moved in first, crouched down. They stayed tight to the wall and laid low, quietly taking out a club employee who’d been walking down the hallway when they came in.
Noah, Jacob and Bowie spilled out the side of the van and fanned out across the street, finding shelter behind cars. Isaac stomped on the accelerator and pulled in closer to Club Hidalgo. The shot fired had drawn the attention of everyone still inside and they poured out onto the curb with guns drawn. Isaac positioned the van sideways so the side doors were shielded and got out to join in the firefight. Their orders had been to cause a diversion for as long as possible, not to try to win a gun battle.
“The minute you start to lose ground,” Kyle had told them. “You get in that van and get the hell out of Dodge. Head for the rendezvous point, we’ll meet you there.”
The crew inside moved room by room, clearing the top floor before venturing down to the basement.