Steel Trap: A Jack Steel Action Mystery Thriller, Book 4

by Geoffrey Saign

  “If anyone can get us out of this, Steel, it’s you.” Matt looked at him earnestly.

  “Be ready.” He saw hope in their faces. “Therese, have you ever fired a gun before?”

  She spoke with distaste. “Phil took me for lessons years ago. I didn’t like being around guns, so I quit after a week. But I remember.”

  “Good.” He leaned back. While he had been thinking of escape, clarity about the hand-off had come. Before the hand-off his intuition had said he couldn’t trust the CIA leak. If he had listened to that, he would have just skipped the hand-off and driven Val and Matt to Langley. That mistake was on him.

  And if his team was making an exchange at midnight, it likely didn’t involve the CIA. Christie was going to come. Zeus if he was alive. Maybe Angel—doubtful. There was no way they would succeed. Not only had he gotten himself captured, he was close to getting his whole team killed. He had to warn them during the phone check-in before the trade. Better yet, he had to get out of here before the exchange. Lucian couldn’t be trusted to keep his word on anything.

  Matt and Therese both looked more confident—because of him. Steel didn’t want to say it, but killing a python and surviving Lucian’s drone bees didn’t equate to escaping Lucian’s compound. But he would try.

  And if he had to die tonight, his goal would be to kill Lucian and Dima first.

  ANGEL CALLED JASMINE to tell her what was happening. He refused to say goodbye, but he wanted to hear her voice once more.

  “When will you be back, my love?”

  “Tomorrow. For certain.” He couldn’t state the obvious—that he might not be back at all.

  “I am so lucky to have found someone with such a good heart, Angel. I am proud to love you. Return to me, my love. You have two angels waiting for you.”

  “I know, dear love. I will come back.” He waited for Renata, feeling sadness in his heart.

  Renata came on, and didn’t hesitate. “I see you swinging your sword, Angel. My heart is behind you. How do you feel?”

  “Nervous. Excited. Uncertain.” He sighed. “You were right. I am leading.”

  “And what a leader you are, Angel! What else?”

  “It’s a heavier burden to lead good people instead of killers.” He felt the weight of it on his shoulders. “It feels strange, Renata. I don’t recognize myself.”

  “You feel concern for those you lead, Angel. That is normal. You care.”

  “Is that what it is?” He smiled. “Do you want to hear the plan?”

  “Of course, dear brother! I must swing my sword too!”

  He told her, and afterward she was quiet. Angel studied the sky, rich in stars, the moon half-full. When he considered where he had come from, his parents killed by the cartel that also stole his parents’ farm, he felt lucky in his life. A hundred times death could have found him, but here he was, still alive, in love, more fulfilled than ever. And risking everything for strangers.

  Renata said, “You are clever and surprising as always, dear brother. Lucian and Dima will try to force you into agreements. Refuse them all.”

  “Good advice.”

  “I am excited for you, Angel. Be safe. And please come back to us, dear brother.”

  “I plan to, dear sister.”

  He hung up. They were prepared for everything, but Prizrak still bothered him. If she was playing a game, he would be ready.

  CHAPTER 35

  At ten-thirty p.m. Christie landed in Florida, at Miami Homestead General Aviation Airport. She walked down the private jet staircase with a small suitcase and her gun case, wearing jeans, a loose black blouse, and her hiking boots. The warm, humid air coated her skin with sweat. Tension wound through her. All she could think about was Steel dying tonight.

  A black van was waiting, parked beside a black Chevy SS. Zeus stood beside the van, while Angel leaned against the trunk of the Chevy, in his old man disguise. That brought up memories for Christie that she had to shove down. But she was glad to see Zeus. Still, the big Greek looked almost too laid-back.

  Zeus gave a friendly wave. “Good to see you, Christie, and to meet you, Clay.”

  Ignoring Angel, Christie hugged Zeus briefly. “Thanks for all you’ve done.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” Zeus threw a hand to the side. “I’m sorry about Steel.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She glanced at Angel, but didn’t speak.

  Clay shook Zeus’ hand. “You are massive, son.” He tipped his hat to Angel. “Angel.”

  “It’s good to see you walking again, Clay.” Angel nodded to him.

  “It’s good to be walking,” said Clay. “I was on crutches for six months.”

  Impatience welled up inside Christie. “Now what?”

  Zeus gestured to them. “Clay, you’re with me. Christie, you’re with Angel.”

  Christie frowned. “Can we talk first, Zeus?”

  Angel straightened. “There is no time. We can talk on the way.” He walked around the side of the Chevy and got in behind the wheel.

  “Let’s do this.” Clay held Christie briefly. “We’ll all be on coms. Call me if you need to, sis.”

  “I will.” She watched him get into the van with Zeus, and then threw her suitcase in the Chevy’s open trunk. Taking her gun case with her, she sat in the front seat. She noted a closed, thin briefcase on the back seat.

  Angel immediately began driving.

  Putting on her seatbelt, it struck Christie as surreal to be in a car with her brother’s killer, going to rescue her fiancé. Choking on words, she said flatly, “Thank you for what you’ve done, Angel. I owe you, and I’m glad you’re helping us.” She still didn’t trust him. “But why?” She regretted the question, but she had to know.

  He sat back. “I’ve asked myself the same question many times, Christie. I am risking everything, and for what? Perhaps for a new life. A new me. A new purpose. We will see. Your earpiece and throat mike are in the glove compartment, along with the flash drive.” He eyed her gun case. “Load your gun, put on the silencer, and let me explain the plan and the money.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Zeus walked steadily in the knee-high, dark water, through rustling cattails, marsh grass, and mud. He held a six-foot wooden staff for balance in the uneven muck, and for protection. The last thing he wanted to do was fall and make a loud splash. Worse, he might fall on a snake or gator.

  The half-moon gave enough light to make it less freaky, but not enough for someone to easily spot him. The stars were fantastic too, more than he’d seen in a long while. Colorful. Algae and marsh muck scented the air. A background drone of mosquitoes, along with a constant chorus of frogs and bull frogs, filled his ears. Mixed in were grunts, chirps, and whistles of roosting wood storks, roseate spoonbills, snowy egrets, great egrets, and great blue herons.

  Zeus found the chatter soothing, and they gave his movements cover. But an occasional splash sent chills up his spine. Predators hunting prey.

  He understood why Angel had given him the creepy job. He was the natural choice. Big. Young. And maybe the only one who could do it. He smiled over that. He thought Steel loved him. But Angel was probably thinking of him more as a warm body. Expendable. Still. He wanted to free Steel, and he owed Matt his life. And though he didn’t know Edwards’ niece, Therese, he didn’t want these filthy men to touch her.

  His feet and legs were wet. He didn’t mind. He wore snake armor chaps that strapped below his hiking boots and ran up to his hips. The cloth armor was thick material that deflected and prevented snake fangs from breaking through. Angel had suggested he also wear snake armor on his arms too, with heavy gloves. Kevlar for bullets.

  Burmese pythons, gators, anacondas, and water moccasins were all nocturnal—actively hunting in the dark. They would leave him alone if he didn’t step on them, or bump into one.

  He felt safe against snakes, but gators were another matter. Suddenly not a fan. Mainly because the idea of running into a gator at night spooked him. Angel probably t
hought because he wasn’t scared of sharks—which he could see in clear water during the day—that he wouldn’t mind bumping into gators, pythons, and anacondas in the dark. Not true. He shivered.

  Ahead of him, big spotlights illuminated the road leading into Lucian’s entire compound a hundred feet out from the front gate, which was closed. The square house to the east and massive garage to the west were easy to see. The lights also lit up the perimeter and twenty feet into the marsh. The light was comforting.

  Clay had dropped him off earlier, and Zeus had walked in from a half-mile away, paralleling the dirt road leading in, fifty feet west of it. As he drew closer, he gave updates to the team. “Tower with four guards. I repeat, four in the tower. Heavy perimeter fence. Guards all over the place. Well-lit.” Nothing Angel hadn’t already told them.

  Clay responded immediately over coms. “Roger that. Eleven-twenty. Forty minutes out.”

  No one else responded. Zeus figured Angel was explaining the plan to Christie, and Prizrak would be calming Val before she left to meet the others. He understood why Angel didn’t want Val here—she might react to seeing Matt, especially if he was hurt by Lucian. Also Val was an amateur. The last thing they needed was someone on their team to blow up their plan.

  He speeded up his wading.

  When he was fifty yards out from the compound, he swung west to follow the fenced perimeter, and to remain out of reach of the spotlights. He noted a twenty-foot-wide section of ground between the west wall of the garage and the west perimeter fence; guards could walk it.

  Something thumped his left calf.

  Tense, he whirled the staff through the water around his body one time. Not waiting, he kept going. When he was far enough west, he turned south again, keeping fifty feet of reeds between him and the compound fence.

  More thumps on his legs. Calves and lower thighs.

  Snakes. He prayed he didn’t step on an anaconda. It unnerved him, but at least the snakes trying to bite his legs weren’t reaching his skin.

  Whenever a guard strolled along the perimeter fence, he stopped moving and knelt in the mud while sitting on his heels, with just his upper chest and head above the water. Those moments worried him the most—he envisioned a snake biting him in the throat. A water moccasin bite out here might finish him. The venom was highly toxic, and by the time he walked out, and could get to a hospital, it might be too late. Minimally he would have tissue and muscle damage.

  What he wanted to do was shine a light at the water all around him, to see if any eyes were shining back at him in the dark. He used the night vision monocular, but didn’t see anything of interest. He had the shotgun strapped across his back, beneath a backpack of gear. A sheathed bowie knife hung across his chest, and he carried the Glock on his hip, the SIG in his back holster. Angel had told him that if he ran into any critters, he had to use the knife to maintain silence. “Easy for Angel to say,” he murmured.

  “Come again?” asked Clay.

  “Sorry, ignore that.” Zeus shook his head. Too much was riding on him to make any mistakes.

  The water began to deepen, up to the middle of his thighs. He used the staff to feel the bottom ahead of him. He didn’t want to drop off into a hole.

  Just past the south walls of the buildings, he stopped to use the monocular again. A small dock jutted out from the center of the south perimeter fence. A locked gate led to the dock, and a small speedboat was tied up to it. “Dock and speedboat in back,” he whispered. “Narrow canal. Looks like an escape plan for Lucian.”

  “Roger that,” said Clay.

  In the middle of the back compound, halfway between the buildings and southern fence, Zeus saw an odd contraption of two rows of chain link fence attached to some kind of big plastic box. Weird.

  There were fewer guards in back of the buildings, and slightly less lighting—but enough for guards to easily see someone on the grounds. Three guards were smoking cigarettes behind the garage. The security felt too lax for how Angel had described Lucian; paranoid psychotic.

  Then he saw it. A hundred feet up. An armored drone, maybe two feet wide, was flying along the west perimeter fence. He crouched in the grass. If the drone had night vision in its camera, he might be screwed. After a half-minute, he slowly rose.

  He heard a swish, and whirled. Nothing obvious. Then something thumped the back of his right knee. Whirling again, he swirled the staff through the water, spinning in a circle. He felt some resistance against the wood, but he couldn’t tell if he had hit a big snake or just weeds.

  Straightening a little, he pushed on. The water deepened up to his butt.

  He scanned the sky again. The drone was at the far southeast corner of the compound.

  Voices. Two guards were strolling along the west fence. He had missed them earlier.

  He sank lower in the water, and almost shouted. A gator swam by a few feet from his face. He swallowed as he watched the head, body, and tail undulate past him. Maybe five feet long. He decided to ask Steel for a raise if he survived the night.

  When the guards moved past him, he strode on.

  Angling himself toward the southwest corner of the chain link fence, he went from four feet of water to three feet at the fence corner. He walked ten feet past the corner, and laid the staff down in the water. The lower part of the fence abutted a one-foot-thick cement wall that was a foot above the water level and went down to the bottom muck. Zeus assumed in the wet season the backyard must still get partially flooded. Weeds surrounded the lower three feet of the perimeter fence, which would help him hide.

  Using the monocular, he examined the fence for cameras or electric wires. Nothing obvious. But he spotted the drone flying across the compound, just in back of the buildings. Taking a breath, he submerged. He hated doing that. What if a snake was there? And the water had a load of bacteria in it, so he kept his eyes shut tight and pinched his nostrils. After counting to five, he slowly rose, wiping his face with his hand.

  He timed the drone. It took one minute to fly along the perimeter and past him again—he had to submerge once more to be safe.

  From his backpack he withdrew heavy-duty bolt cutters with rubber grips. It was easy to cut a large half-circle in the chain link fence at ground level. He left a few links uncut in the fence, so it appeared as if the fence was still solid. One foot above that hole, he cut another one, but this time only one foot wide. Again he left a few links uncut so the cut piece didn’t stand out.

  When the drone approached, he submerged. The drone was past him in seconds.

  “I’ve cut the fence,” he whispered.

  Clay came back with, “Twenty minutes, kid. Then we’re going to bring the pain.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  From the backpack Zeus drew a Rattler and looped the strap over his head. Digging out magazines, he put them in his pockets. He was going to need both hands free.

  CHAPTER 37

  Christie’s back was tense. She had to relax. Angel’s plan sounded good—she couldn’t think of anything better—but it was high risk. What if Lucian didn’t call?

  They were parked on the side of a dirt road near the Everglades, lights off and not far from Lucian’s compound.

  The call came at eleven-fifteen p.m.

  Angel answered, leaving the phone on speaker.

  “Are you ready, Old Man?” asked Lucian.

  “Of course,” replied Angel.

  Lucian chuckled. “I’m going to send one van with two men, a driver and a counterfeit expert, to verify the money and the flash drive. If the flash drive and money are good, then the van will lead you to me. I will have spotters along the roads. If anyone follows you, or our car—and we will be watching you the whole time—then the deal is off and you won’t see Steel, Therese, and Matt again. We also will find every woman in any of your lives, children too, and take them into the trade.”

  Christie’s hand tightened into a fist. She wanted to put a bullet into Lucian.

  “We understand.” Angel
kept his voice calm. “But we will meet at a neutral location, not a place of your choosing.”

  Lucian replied harshly. “You will come to me or you can say goodbye to your hostages. Dima may want the flash drive, but I would be fine with what I already have.”

  Angel didn’t believe him. “Your man can come into my car, but have him leave his shirt and pants in his car so we know he’s unarmed. He can bring a phone only, no Bluetooth or neck mikes.”

  “Wonderful.” Lucian gave them coordinates for the meet, a ten-minute drive from where they were now.

  “No,” scoffed Angel. “You could be sending us to an ambush. Whereas we gain nothing by killing your inspector and one car driver.”

  Lucian was quiet for a moment. “Should I cut off one of Steel’s fingers? Perhaps his wedding ring finger?”

  Christie stiffened, but Angel shook his head at her.

  Angel’s voice hardened. “We are tired. No games. If you want the flash drive and money, here are the coordinates.” He gave their current position, and added, “Twenty minutes. We have spotters too. If we see anything we don’t like, we’re gone.”

  Lucian laughed. “A man of my own heart.” He hung up.

  Christie got out and moved to the rear passenger-side seat, the briefcase in the center of the seat beside her. She took her silenced SIG and hid it partially beneath her right thigh.

  Angel looked in the rear-view mirror. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ll settle for a rescue,” she said bitterly. “But if they hurt Steel I’ll want to kill all of them.”

  Angel nodded slowly. “If they had my Jasmine or Renata, I would feel the same way. Now I just want to rescue the three hostages, and stay alive.”

  Christie heard what he was saying—this wasn’t just about Steel. “Yes, I want Matt and Therese free too. Who’s in charge of the trade, Dima or Lucian?”