Pitbull_Special Forces_Operation Alpha

by Kendra Mei Chailyn

  But as she continued looking around, no answers came. As time passed by, she kept being drawn back to the newspaper articles and photos taped to the closet wall. Some of them were old going as far back as a ten years and as recent as six months before. There was something about GSG 9 and a neo nazi but Anke didn’t read the whole article. It didn’t help with what she was trying to do. Why waste the time?

  There was the outside cover of a newspaper sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. She picked it up and her heart almost stopped. The article was about a car explosion that happened in Metro Valley, beneath the overpass. Though there hadn’t been a picture, from the description, the car was eerily familiar.

  With her heart slamming inside her chest, Anke gave in and used Claudia’s phone to call the police.

  Anke spent the next hour on the phone to different police departments. One told her it wasn’t their jurisdiction, another explained Claudia was an adult and could go away if she wanted to without telling anyone. That answer was given to her after she told them she had no clue how long Claudia had been missing.

  “But you are not sure if it was indeed her car,” the police officer from a third station asked in a bored tone.

  “No. I’d have to see the real thing!” Anke was exasperated. “There weren’t exactly any pictures. Can I see the vehicle?”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Fine.” She tossed her free hand up. “If I can’t look at it, can you at least go look at it and tell me if it’s her car? I don’t think—”

  The officer hung up on her.

  Anke growled. “That fucker!”

  She’d called two other precincts and it was the same as the three before—a whole lot of nothing. “Did I mention her place was tossed?”

  “You said the door was locked?”

  “Yes. So?”

  “So? It meant your friend probably had a fight with her boyfriend and tore up the place. Give her a few hours to calm down.”

  Anke pulled the phone away from her lips and ear and slammed it into the cradle a few times hoping the sound blew out the creep’s eardrums. Once she was partially satisfied with her revenge, she lifted the phone again. “So help me God, if we find her dead somewhere. I’ll make sure her family has all the information so they can sue you. And trust me, when they’re done, they’ll own your soul, you sorry excuse for a human being!”

  “There’s no need for threats—”

  “I don’t have the time or the patience for threats, asshole! It’s a promise!”

  She hung up and tried one final department. But after a few minutes of answering questions, Anke knew how this was going to end. They were asking her question as if Claudia was some drugged up prostitute. There was just something in the way this man was speaking to her that rubbed Anke the wrong way.

  “Danke. Du bist null die hilfe.”

  “Wait a minute.” The cop protested. “Come on, now. I’m trying to help you. What do you mean I’m no help?”

  “I said what I said!”

  She slammed the phone down. What she’d really wanted to tell was to eat shit and die. But she had to act like an adult.

  Again, Anke found her way back to the closet, with the newspaper page in her hand. She took a moment to reread the car’s description. Since, most likely, the reporters saw the thing from a helicopter, their description may not be entirely accurate. Yet, her gut told her something wasn’t right. If only she could convince the cops, so they’d tell her what they found in the car.

  Then again, they probably didn’t even go there to look at it. Anke didn’t think a police officer had been to Metro Valley since that horrid day the dinosaurs met a comet years ago.

  “Assholes.” She muttered, while pulling down the picture with the most recent date on it of precisely three months prior. It was of a GSG 9 officer in full gear. She couldn’t see his face, but he looked massive. Underneath, the caption read Sergeant Daniel Hunt of the GSG 9 Elite squad, CIRO.

  “Well, since you boys are no help here.” Claudia folded the picture and shoved it into the side pocket of her purse. “Let’s see what Mr. Daniel Hunt has to say for himself.”

  2

  The CN Tower soared upward in the distance outside the window of the condo Daniel “Pitbull” Hunt had rented for his boys’ trip. He wrapped his fingers around his mug and exhaled. This had been a dream of his—and would have happened sooner except all hell broke loose with Beast and then with Barbie.

  Silently, he shook it off. His team had come through with flying colours but were still sidelined while the head of GSG 9 performed investigations into the whole Beast Miracle incident. No, while he was on vacation he would not let work get in the way. His gang was safe and he was on vacation with two of his brothers.

  There were so many things he wanted to get done while in Toronto. One of those things was to be harnessed so he could hang off the side of the CN Tower.

  He smiled.

  The trip had been something he’d put off for years before joining CIRO. Though he hadn’t been sure why. Maybe it had just been easier to work. Down time meant he had to slow his life and look around. It meant he would have had to take stock of what he had in his world and realize how dull it had become.

  Still, it was a good thing he’d held off on travelling during CIRO’s downtime. Their friend Crash was caught up in a human trafficking ring that almost resulted in an international incident. Thankfully, the fact they took out a major operation outweighed the fact CIRO had been out of their jurisdiction. What was better, Crash was able to adopt two beautiful daughters and he and Barbie had decided to try dating.

  A perfect example of good out of bad.

  He took a sip from his coffee and glanced over his shoulder. John “Tex” Keegan and Sam “Mozart” Reed must still be asleep. He’d wanted all the men on CIRO to be there, but even though they were on down time, Mouth and Zero had their own plans. Beast was in the process of helping his lady finish home renovations and their trainee, Caleb “Crash” Pope had his hands full with being an instant father.

  By the time Tex made his way out of the bedroom, Pitbull was sitting at his laptop trying to find somewhere close by for breakfast. Sure, they could cook, they were on vacation.

  “Mornin’.” Tex grunted.

  “Morning.” Pitbull looked up at him. “Coffee that-a-way Zombie Tex.”

  Tex growled at him but Pitbull only laughed. He waited until Tex had taken a sip from the hot liquid before he said anything. “We should go out for breakfast.”

  “Found anywhere interesting?”

  “A couple of places. One of them we might have to cab it.”

  “I’m gamed,” Tex said. “Maybe we should wake Mozart.”

  Pitbull grinned. “Well, allow me.”

  “Oh boy.”

  “What?” Pitbull asked, closing the laptop.

  “When you grin, someone is about to get screwed.”

  Pitbull crinkled his nose and made his way into the room Mozart was using. He sat on the side of the bed, sucked a finger wet then stuck it into Mozart ear.

  “Ugh!” Mozart exclaimed. “Damn it, Tex!”

  Tex’s boisterous laughter from the door drew Mozart into sitting position as he rubbed his ear.

  “I didn’t do anythin’.” Tex laughed harder.

  “Pit? Jesus! What are you? Six?” Mozart asked but mirth stole at his lips even as he reached over to punch Pitbull’s large arm.

  “It woke you up, didn’t it?” Pitbull asked. “Now, come on. Get up. We have to go get fuel.”

  Mozart groaned. “You’re worse than Cookie. Can you please leave? I’m kinda naked under here.”

  “Um…you’re kidding.” Pitbull glanced over at Tex. “He’s kidding, right?”

  “You wanna chance it?” Tex asked, already backing up. “Then again therapy is covered under GSG 9’s benefit package. So…”

  Groaning, Pitbull rose and exited the room, pulling the door up behind him.

  Whil
e he waited for Mozart to officially wake up, he showered and changed. After taking a final look at himself in the mirror, Pitbul met Tex back in the living room. Tex was on the phone but blew Melody air kisses and hung up the moment he made an appearance.

  “You miss her, don’t you?” Pitbull asked, falling into the sofa beside his friend.

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “I don’t know what that’s like,” Pitbull said. “Sometimes I think it’s a blessing I don’t—other times, well, not so much.”

  “It’s always good to have someone in your corner—other than the guys, you know? With Mel, I know she loves me beyond reason and I have to admit the feelings are a million times mutual.”

  Pitbull said nothing. He mused over his friend’s answer for a moment, but their conversation had to end. Mozart made his way out of the room and the three left the rented condo and headed down amongst people.

  The air was slightly nippy. Pitbull guessed it was side effects from the night. The three chatted as they did the short walk from the condo, along Blue Jays Way and emerged onto King Street. They all stopped at the light to look around. Pitbull arched a brow in wonder at how busy the street had already become.

  Once they crossed, they entered a restaurant that touted something about all day breakfast and was quickly seated in a corner booth. With their coffee order placed, the waitress left them to it and Pitbull picked up the menu.

  “Breakfast poutine.” He read out loud. “I don’t care how much they dress it up. Having potato covered in cheese then drowned in gravy for breakfast would sit on my chest all day.”

  “I know, right?” Mozart asked. “Way too much, especially when we aren’t working out.”

  Pitbull turned his attention out the glass window to watch people walk by. His musing was only interrupted by the waitress returning with their coffee, taking their orders and leaving once more.

  “So, how is Crash settling in?” Mozart wanted to know.

  “He’s doing well. Barbie is helping him out.” Pitbull said around sips from his mug. “I thought for sure he’d be in over his head but those little girls keep him on his toes.”

  “Kids are awesome, aren’t they?” Tex drawled. “So, what’s he going to do now?”

  “We had a talk with our boss and he’s agreed to test Crash. Right now he’s going through a series of training—the worse that could happen is they enlist him as a consultant. They’re trying not to lose him to the fire department.”

  “Training? Like what? He’s weapon’s certified, isn’t he, Tex?” Mozart glanced over to the computer whizz.

  Tex nodded. “Yeah.”

  “They want to make sure his body can take whatever the world dishes out.” Pitbull shifted in his seat. “They’ve gone through his resume, spoken to people he’s worked with, including Wolf. He’s passed medical and psychological—now they just want to put him through his paces. They aren’t taking any chances. If he can go through GSG 9 simulations—he’s earned his place within the ranks. Once he passes…”

  “You mean, if…” Tex put in.

  Pitbull arched a brow. “No, CIRO is working him on our off-time. He’s tougher than I was when I started. So, once he passes, Beast has agreed to take him on.”

  “And y’all are cool with this?” Tex asked.

  Mozart grunted.

  “It is a fair question.” Tex leaned back in the seat. “Someone may have a word or two to say about taking on someone who is so green behind the ears.”

  “CIRO had a conversation and we’ve agreed it’s a good thing. Crash has a special set of skills that could come in handy in certain situations. It’s going to take some getting used to having another member but it isn’t impossible. Besides, he’s proven himself with the whole Rotterdam fiasco. There’s something there—I know it.”

  Breakfast arrived then and Pitbull forced a topic change. Still, he couldn’t help wondering if Crash knew precisely what he was getting himself into. Pitbull resigned himself to helping Crash. After all, When Beast chose him to join CIRO people weren’t pleased. He was new, very little experience and if Beast hadn’t helped him, Pitbull knew he wouldn’t have made it to CIRO.

  After breakfast, the three men wandered the downtown core. They slowly made their way back toward the condo, but stopped at little parkettes to take pictures and send back to the others, as well as at the CBC to get a tour of the place. It was remarkable what went into putting together a television show.

  It was almost lunch time by the time they finally emerged from the CBC’s building and had to hurry to the CN Tower for their tour of the landmark. They ended it all by being harnessed and hanging off the side of the building. As the wind danced around his head, Pitbull closed his eyes and leaned all the way back. It dawned on him then he was precariously chilling atop what used to be the world’s tallest buildings.

  He should have been terrified. But a fear of heights had vanished years ago during training for GSG 9. They were taught repelling, skydiving, underwater diving—everything to ensure they could maintain a high level of efficiency no matter what the condition.

  “Woo!” Tex shouted as they were pulled back in and the harnesses removed. “Let’s do that again!”

  “I can check it off my list of things to do.” Pitbull grinned from ear to ear.

  “You have a bucket list?” Mozart asked.

  “Yeah. Don’t you?”

  “No.” Mozart said emphatically. “I’ve never thought to have one. I guess before Summer I didn’t give much thought to anything other than my mission.”

  They stepped into the elevator for the ride back to ground level.

  “Yeah. We all get tunnel vision sometimes,” Pitbull said. “But you’re out of it now.”

  Mozart nodded.

  They were barely back on the ground when his cell phone rang. Pitbull arched a brow because he hadn’t even remembered he had the thing. Still, he reached into his pocket for it and frowned as Mouth’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Guten tag?” Pitbull answered.

  “Yo,” Mouth said. “How’s Toronto?”

  “Great.” Pitbull arched a brow. “Shouldn’t you guys be in Japan?”

  “Plans fell through,” Mouth said. “We’re going to try for next month. Listen, I know this is your vacation but there’s a woman here to see you.”

  “A what now?”

  “A lady?” Mouth asked. “You do know what that is, right?”

  “Smartass.” Pitbull frowned as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. He allowed the others to exit ahead of him before stepping out. “Who is she?”

  “Her name is Anke Fischer.”

  “Did you tell her I’m away for a few more weeks?”

  “Yes. But she’s been showing up here every day since Friday.” Mouth said. “Beast wants to know what to tell her. Are you two an item?”

  “Item? Mouth, if I was seeing someone you would have known.”

  “Okay.” Mouth’s voice dipped to a hoarse whisper. “Listen, are you in some kind of trouble? You know we got your back.”

  “I’m not in any trouble—and I don’t know an Anke Fischer.”

  “So…”

  Pitbull sighed and turned to see Tex and Mozart staring at him. “Hang on guys. Let me talk to her.”

  There was a shuffle on the other end of the phone before a female’s voice came over the line.

  “Ms. Fischer,” Pitbull said.

  “Is this Daniel Hunt?” she asked.

  “You’ve been trying to get my attention. You’ve got it. What can I do for you?”

  “Um—your sister.”

  Pitbull swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. “My sister and I haven’t spoken in over ten years. If you were dumb enough to have lent her money, Ms. Fischer, I cannot help you.”

  “What do—she doesn’t owe me any money. I’m a friend of hers.”

  “Claudia has friends? Right. Okay, look. If this is her way of asking me for something…”
>
  “Would you calm the hell down and listen?” Anke snapped.

  Pitbull growled. He was tempted to hang up on her but a curious part of him remained on the line. He held his breath and prepared for the punch to come.

  “She’s missing.” Anke continued. “They found a car in Metro Valley burnt out and I think it’s hers.”

  “Have you told the police in your area?”

  “Yes.”

  Pitbull rubbed his eyes. “Then, Ms. Fischer. I’m unsure of what you want from me. I don’t need to be present for them to do their jobs.”

  “But.” She stressed the word as if trying to hold on to her patience. “They refuse to tell me anything and they won’t go back and check it out. I’ve tried the three stations around my area plus a few others and nothing. There is no one else to care. I came to you because you’re her brother and should want to help find her.”

  “I don’t know why you believe I would.”

  “Well, call me sentimental but because she’s your sister. And we can’t find her?”

  “Ms. Fischer—is it?” Pitbull walked away from the others and lowered his voice. “Whatever my sister has gotten herself into, speaking from experience, you don’t want a part of. Trust me. It never ends well for anyone. As a matter of fact, it ends worse for those who tries to help.”

  “I think she might be in trouble.”

  “Now, there’s something we can both agree on.”

  “Mr. Hunt you have to—”

  “No.” Pitbull said bitterly. “I don’t have to do anything. Whether she’s alive or dead is on her.”

  “Mr—”

  “I’m through with cleaning up my sister’s messes.” Pitbull told her. “I’ve spent most of my life protecting her and was always burnt for it. She got herself into this disaster and she’s going to have to get herself out.”

  “Mr. Hunt…”

  “Call your local police.” Pitbull advised her. “CIRO is on a hiatus and is not to be deployed for a missing person.”

  “I’m not going away, Mr. Hunt.”

  “Well, Ms. Fischer. You’ll be waiting a very, very long time.”