She tapped her earpiece. “All three suspects neutralized,” she told Trinity, holding the driver’s fearful gaze.
“Good work.”
“We’re sending all the intel through the secure link now.”
“Copy. You’re clear to head to the drop point. Contact me when you’re there, and we’ll alert the cops.”
“Roger.” She tapped her earpiece to mute her mic. “We’re good to go,” she told Zack, who climbed out of the front and came around beside the open door.
The plan was for her to drive the van to the drop point, while he followed in the other vehicle to pick her up. “But stand guard for a minute first, will you? My friend here and I are gonna have a little chat.”
The driver was already shaking his head, his expression frantic. “I told you, I don’t know anything. I don’t—”
She seized a handful of his hair and rammed the back of his head into the floor with a thud. “You either tell me everything I want to know, mate, or you’ll die with your pals.” The other men weren’t dead and would start to come around in another ten to fifteen minutes or so, but he didn’t know that.
“Jesus,” he cried, writhing against his bonds and getting nowhere.
She leaned over him, putting a knee on his groin. He stilled instantly, gulping, his eyes wide with horror. “Talk,” she snarled, increasing the pressure until he broke.
“Okay, okay!” he shouted, face slick with sweat.
Oh yeah, he was about to sing for her like a nightingale.
She hid a smile and twisted her hand in his hair, arching his neck back at a painful angle as he started to spill his guts. This first part of the op had gone exactly as planned. She hoped the others would go as smoothly.
****
Amber studied the multiple video feeds on Lady Ada from the back of the darkened cube van. Jesse was up front, watching the nearly empty parking lot he’d pulled into a few minutes ago. He was her backup and bodyguard, making sure she was safe so she could focus on her job.
Everyone was in place for the warehouse op. Briar in a fourth-floor window of the building across the street and down one. Georgia and Bautista standing by to breach the door, with Heath backing them up.
“Feeds look good,” she told the team. “No changes since my last check in. Briar, can you confirm?”
“No changes here,” Briar reported from behind her sniper rifle, aided by her high-powered binos. Unlike the others, she was using regular ammo. If she was forced to shoot, her target would die.
“Copy.” All the recon they’d done for this had paid off beautifully.
By hacking into a few private security cameras in the immediate vicinity, she had a bird’s eye view of the front and side of the warehouse, as well as the surroundings. CCTV footage would have been ideal, but hacking into that was trickier and more likely to raise red flags on the other end.
What they didn’t have, was a camera inside the place. The team would have to do the breach before they would know exactly what was inside.
“On your mark, Briar,” she said, and sat back to monitor everything. It was so much harder to sit on the sidelines than being part of the action.
“Go time?” Jesse asked, looking back at her.
She nodded, eyes on the screen just as Bautista and Georgia came into view near the side door of the warehouse.
A moment later, Briar’s voice came over her earpiece. “Execute.”
Chapter Thirteen
It had been a damn long time since he’d been able to put his skill set to use. Even longer since his enemies had shuddered with fear at the name “El Santo.”
Dressed all in black with a balaclava hiding his face, Miguel Bautista placed the breaching charge on the side door of the darkened warehouse and retreated out of sight around the corner to wait. There were two armed security personnel inside, and an unknown number of others.
It felt good to be back in action, and even better to be on an op to rescue women, with a team that included his wife. This was a far cry from their comparatively sedate life back in Miami, and they were both enjoying the rush of conducting an op again.
All their intel indicated one or more women were currently being held somewhere in the building for the next hour or two. His team’s task was to neutralize whatever threat lay inside, and rescue any prisoners.
“You’re clear,” Briar said in his earpiece, providing overwatch from across the street while Heath kept an eye out for them from ground level. As a former PJ, Heath had the best medical skills on the team. He would guard their rear and assist in treating the hostages and any wounded after the building was secure.
Miguel withdrew his weapon and stood poised there, his body tensed and ready to go. Once he and Georgia entered the building, they would have mere seconds to distinguish foe from friendlies.
No sooner had the thought formed than Georgia’s hand landed on his right shoulder. She might not be able to put her incredible sniper skills to use on this op, but she had an entire arsenal of other badass tricks she could pull out of her sleeve as needed.
She squeezed him, signaling she was ready to go.
He hit the trigger on the charge. The metal lock on the door disintegrated under the force of the explosion.
Go.
Bursting from around the corner, he drove the sole of his boot into the edge of the warped door, smashing it inward. The moment it gave way he ducked back around the corner to wait.
Seconds later, two men burst through the open doorway, carrying rifles. As Miguel raised his pistol to engage them from behind, the faint sizzle of bullets ripped through the air and both the men dropped almost simultaneously in a spray of blood.
“Two tangos down,” Briar reported coolly. “Entry’s clear.”
Without missing a beat, he emerged from cover and plunged inside the gaping doorway, weapon up as he checked the left side and scanned to the right in the dimly-lit interior of the warehouse. As he stood there, Georgia swept past him to scan from the right side and meet him in the middle.
Shouts came from the back somewhere out of sight. Both of them pivoted at the same moment to face the new threat. Four more guys appeared from the hidden hallway, scrambling for their weapons left on metal tables. One of them upended a table and dove behind it for cover, disappearing from view.
He and Georgia charged forward, weapons up. Two guys grabbed pistols sitting on the other table and whirled to face them, ready to fire. Miguel squeezed off two shots at the first tango and kept going as the guy dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. Non-lethal rounds still hurt like a bitch and could cause fractures or internal damage.
The other tango dove behind the flipped table with his buddy.
“I’ll go right,” Georgia said.
Miguel automatically shifted left as they both slowed, circling the sides of the table hiding the two tangos. “Give it up,” he growled to the cowardly shits hiding there. “Toss your weapons on the floor and put your hands up.” The other tango was still down, groaning in pain.
Miguel flicked a glance to the entrance to the hallway at the back left corner of the warehouse, where one of the four guys had gone earlier, then focused on the upended table.
“Fuck you,” one of them yelled back.
“Last chance,” he said, steadily moving forward with Georgia, primed and ready to react to the merest hint of movement. If they didn’t surrender, he was going to make it hurt.