The Wife Assignment: Chapter 31
“Compound is two miles out,” Bristow spoke through comms.
The freight truck I was driving followed a black Expedition. Tom drove that vehicle while Bristow rode shotgun with Stepanov and McG in the second passenger row. Behind their vehicle, an RV outfitted as a command center trailed from a distance of a quarter mile. While Kelly was busy making disguises, Dmitry had been getting the RV set up with all its high-tech bells and whistles. From what Callum told me, even Stepanov wasn’t privy to the equipment inside.
“Take care of my WASP.” A voice came over comms.
“Nadia?” I said with a smile in my voice. The WASP was her favorite drone. A tiny insect device made with reflective surfaces so it was invisible to the naked eye. “How are you doing, lady?”
“I’m so ready for this girl to come out,” she groaned. “I’ve driven Garrison bonkers enough that he allowed me to monitor you guys.”
“I don’t know how you did it with two girls,” Garrison grumbled.
A pang twisted in my chest. Thank fuck I didn’t miss their births. That was before that Aden mission. Sometimes one was so blinded by guilt and grief they became selfish about how they affected people around them. Breaking my vow to cherish and protect my wife was unacceptable. My hands gripped the steering wheel.
“I just showed up for the birth,” I forced out a laugh when I realized there was dead air. I’d been excited for each pregnancy, and the longest time I’d ever stayed away was six weeks. As a Tier 1 SEAL, I did mostly shorter-duration direct-action missions rather than the typical six-month deployments.
“He was great,” Kelly said. “How are the prosthetics holding up?”
All three men she addressed responded positively.
I detected gruffness in her voice. She must have felt the rush of regrets in the same way I had when Garrison made his comment. Thankfully, the subject changed and refocused our attention back on our mission.
“Compound’s coming up on the right,” Bristow said. “Kelso, Dmitry … you guys doing okay?”
“I’m glad Nadia is monitoring,” Kelso quipped.
I was about to bite his head off when Dmitry deadpanned. “This is like child’s play.”
“Heat signatures are still holding up on the structure near the cliff,” Bristow said. “We’ll know for certain if Alana is still with the group once we deploy the drone.”
The day before, he and I staked out the compound and sent the WASP for reconnaissance. Callum knew what we were doing, but we left Dmitry out of it. The Gray Wolf was pissed, but he didn’t tell us about the RV either. We grudgingly accepted that what we did prior to the day’s mission was on a need to know, but until this day ended, we were on the same team and we promised to share every fucking piece of intel.
So far, we’d established there was no tail or any signal that showed we were being tracked.
Still, I was paranoid. Bristow and I scanned our vehicles and each piece of equipment we brought with us for every known tracking device known to man.
All clean.
“Go or no-go?” Kelso asked. “You’re two minutes to target.”
“Go,” I responded immediately. We had a weird situation going on here. No one was emerging as the clear leader of the op. I expected Dmitry or Callum to make the call, but Kelso was the one who had his career on the line.
But nothing was more important than getting Alana back.
“Go,” Callum answered.
Without hesitation, the rest acknowledged with similar answers.
“We’re breaking off. Good luck,” Kelso said as their vehicle pulled off the road into a parking lot for campsites in the area. With other RVs in the vicinity, they wouldn’t look out of place.
Two minutes later, our vehicles arrived at the entrance of Greystoke Ranch. A tall iron gate with twenty-foot walls surrounded what used to be a resort ranch for the rich and famous. Horse stables, bunkhouses, and a guest house surrounded the grand Spanish-style villa. A quarter-mile driveway led to the main house.
A guard emerged from the pedestrian gate and headed straight for the middle passenger row. Stepanov lowered the window.
The security guy held up a device to Stepanov’s face, before doing the same to Tom, Callum and Bristow.
I held my breath.
He turned to me.
Fuck.
He approached the semi. “The registry only specified four people. Who are you?”
“I’m the driver,” I told the man in Spanish.
Stepanov leisurely stepped down from the Expedition. “He’s with me.”
The guard sneered. “I guess it’s useless to run a facial scan on him. He’s an illegal.”
“Look, he’s the best I could do on short notice.”
“Can’t one of you guys drive the truck?”
“We’re wasting time here.” Stepanov shook out a sleeve from his suit to fix the cuff. “Check with your boss. Otherwise I’m turning around.”
The man returned to the guardhouse.
“What’s happening?” Dmitry asked.
“Problem with James,” Callum said.
Silence reigned for a few seconds and then Tom said, “It’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with assholes like this. Like I said, these men despise anyone south of the border and across the Pacific Ocean, and not all of it has to do with being racist. The cartels have become so powerful and vicious, they’re making the Russians look like Disney princesses. And Ford has a hatred for the Chinese, so … ”
I snorted, “Just as well. Good thinking with the cover.”
The gates opened, and the same guard gestured for the vehicles to pull aside to the corner. “Okay, here we go. Second inspection.” Hopefully, they’d be too lazy to check under cushions for weapons.”
“Over there.” One of the ranch security guards instructed me. Another one joined him.
“Get down from there,” First Guard said.
I didn’t move.
“Are you deaf or plain stupid?” He turned to his partner. “Damned wetbacks. You’d think if they sneak into this country, they’d learn to speak English.”
“Do you want me to shoot you, you stupid fuck?”
I raised my hands and ducked my head. “No hablo Ingles.”
“Juanito,” Callum called and told me to get out of the vehicle in Spanish.
As I stepped down, First Guard shoved me to the side, and I pretended to stumble and crash to my knees. It wasn’t that difficult to pretend with the weight of the fat suit I carried around my torso.
“Jesus, man did you shower at all?” Second Guard put a hand to his nose. The weather in Mt. Charleston was twenty degrees cooler than Vegas. Still, the fat suit was a killer. It didn’t take much to burn up in it. I had the AC blasting in the truck, and the suit still carried residual coolness from it.
“Want to search him for weapons?” First Guard asked his companion.
Second Guard grumbled but did as he was told. The suit had a skin-like texture, and I sprayed enough water on myself to make it look like I was sweating through my shirt.
Stupid fuck couldn’t even bring himself to touch me. He lifted my shirt with the barrel of his rifle and since the pants were so tight, almost giving me a wedgie, all he did was feel me through my pants.
“He’s clear,” the man grumbled. “Let’s check the truck.” It was a case where idiots failed at their jobs because of prejudice. I’d carved out two sections in my suit so I could keep two semi-automatics inside.
“Damn, you’re lucky,” Dmitry commented.
The guards were more thorough with the vehicle. I had another weapon hidden in a fake compartment built into the console, decorating the surface with loose candy wrappers, a half-eaten sandwich, and finishing my sloth with spilled orange soda.
“Man, this guy is a filthy pig too,” First Guard muttered. He turned to Callum. “The truck needs to go to a service entrance. Mr. Ford has important guests. We don’t want your driver polluting the air.”
Soon, our vehicles were allowed through to the villa. The long driveway was lined with bristlecone pines. Midway to the main house, Bristow said, “Deploying the drone.”
“Go ahead,” Kelso replied.
After a few minutes, he said, “Relinquishing control. Got it?”
“Affirmative. In control,” the detective replied.
Soon, we approached a roundabout where a voluptuous Romanesque statue of a woman carrying an urn stood in its center, pouring water into a fountain. A guard with a long gun strapped to his shoulder directed me to the left while the SUV swerved to the right where a row of luxury cars parked.
My truck ambled around the main residence, straight for the utilitarian facilities in the back, including the guest house where Alana and the other captives were being held.
“WASP is on top of you,” Kelso said.
“How are the heat signatures?”
“Same. Clusters in rooms, but the corner room is showing a single occupant.”
Bristow reported that they had arrived at the front entrance, and Ford himself had appeared with one of his identified Oligarch partners.
I parked the truck at the back of the house.
A black-clad man exited the rear and approached my vehicle. A gold chain hung around his neck while his handlebar mustache and Stetson were at odds with his mob henchman attire. He walked over to my side and made a sign to roll down the windows.
He spoke in Spanish.
“He’s saying ‘stay here’,” Kelso coached me.
“Sí.”
“I’ll have someone check the products after everything is clear with the boss.”
Kelso translated, but thankfully I understood the gist of it and said, “Sí.”
The man waved back at the guard standing in front of our target building and returned to the villa.
“You’d think they wouldn’t be so nonchalant about twenty million in product,” Kelso commented before continuing, “Moving WASP to the rear room now. Bristow, McG, you guys okay?”
Both men inside the villa cleared their throats once which meant all was still cool.
“Anyone have visibility on them?”
“I just managed to tap into one of the villa cameras,” Nadia piped in. “Sorry it took a while. They’ve got their security locked down. I’m working on another feed including an outdoor one.”
“Not tight enough for you apparently. Send it to me, nerd girl,” Kelso said. “Holy shit is that …”
“What?” I growled.
“What the hell is he doing here?” the detective growled. “Luca Moretti.”
“This is going to be fun,” Bristow muttered.
There was a chatter of pleasantries exchanged but tension zapped across our comms channel.
“You didn’t think I’d send you guys in there without backup, right?” Garrison said dryly.
Dmitry chuckled. “I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. I’ve grown quite fond of McGrath.”
“Who else knew?” I asked.
“Only Dmitry and I,” Garrison said. “The surprise on their faces had to be authentic.”
So much for no secrets between us, but Garrison in the know made it go down better.
“And we’re sure Moretti is on our side?” Kelso asked. “How did he manage an invite to the table?”
“He has the cash to float the product. The Moscow cadre gets more than double their profit. They get sixty from Stepanov, forty from Chicago.”
“And the Russians trust Moretti?”
“Of course not,” Dmitry said. “But money talks.”
“Kelso do you have eyes on Alana?” I growled because I was getting a bad feeling about this. I wasn’t sure I trusted Kelly’s stepbrother and I wished I’d done more research into him other than knowing he shot a guy at dinner because he was annoying.
“Almost there,” Kelso replied.
“Hurry.”
“Cool it, James. Nadia is better at this,” the detective said, a trace of annoyance entering his voice.
“Well, have her do it. I have no idea why you guys invited Moretti to the party. That man is a trigger-happy motherfucker.”
“Which is exactly what we needed,” Dmitry replied.
“That’s my brother in there,” Kelly’s cracked voice reached out to me. “Does Luca know it’s Callum?”
“No,” Dmitry said. “The fewer people knowing all the pieces, the better this is going to unfold.”
“I’m not leaving things to chance,” I said. “Kelso!”
“Confirmed. Alana McGrath is in the last room of the structure. She seems out of it. Has something around her ankle. The room is bare except for a bed. Nadia is checking it out now.”
“Might be a proximity sensor.” I shoved at the door and stepped down from the truck, making a production of hunching over and clutching my stomach.
“Should’ve eaten more beans, man,” Kelso said.
“Shut up.” Despite the high-tension situation, a round of laughter burst over comms. Otherwise, it was a string of muffled chatter.
“Where are they?” I staggered toward the guest house, still looking at the ground.
“They’ve moved to an inner room. Looks like good-natured negotiations,” Kelso said.
Before someone raised hell.
“We’re running facial recognition on everyone in that house, and, man, we’re hitting the motherlode of gangsters.”
“Stop!” The man guarding the house where Alana was kept shouted. He didn’t move to unsling the rifle from his shoulder which meant he didn’t see me as a threat.
“Baño,” I muttered.
“Can you piss behind a tree?”
I looked up and did my best impression of needing to shit and clutched my stomach.
“Shit, that’s … shit.”
Everyone laughed over comms including Bristow and Callum.
Dmitry shushed them.
“Shit … sí,” I nodded vigorously.
“Dammit. Go over there and poop near the trees, sí?”
“No hablo Ingles.”
“Dammit. Come on.” He gestured for me to follow him.
When we were along the side of the house and out of sight of the main house, I groaned and doubled-over.
“What the hell, man, did you eat some bad burrito or something?”
I jackknifed up and caught him in the chin with my elbow and said, “Sorry, man.” before cracking his head on my knee. He was out cold. I dragged him around the corner of the house.
“Alarms are disabled,” Dmitry said.
I removed my belly suit, and my guns fell to the ground. There was also a knife and a couple of zip ties. I used those to secure the guard. I also put a gag around his mouth.
“I’m not liking this,” Dmitry added. “This looks too easy. Why only one guard?”
“You’re worrying about that now?” I asked. “I’m getting Alana.”
“Be careful,” Kelly whispered.
“How you holding up beautiful?” I hated that she had to listen to everything but with everything she’d done, she was very much a part of this team.
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me, big guy. Just come back with my sister, and if it’s not too much trouble, Callum, too.”
A couple of snorts came over comms, but I was proud as fuck my woman was solid under pressure. In a few sentences, she was reminding her brother to be careful and not have a repeat of last time. I’d probably be losing my mind right now if she were the one in danger.
Free of the fat suit, I strapped my guns to a thigh holster, secured the magazines around my belt, and grabbed the guard’s long gun. I also took his keys and walkie-talkie.
I snapped an image of the man and sent it to the command RV to process. I needed a name in case the compound’s security checked in with him. Slipping beside the backdoor, I tested the handle. The light on the status box was green, and the lever gave in easily.
Raised voices came over comms.
“What’s going on?”
“Luca is causing a scene,” Kelso told me. “Get Alana out now. We’re heading toward you.”
“Things are not secure yet,” I growled. I did not want my wife in the middle of this shit.
“It’s going to happen quickly,” Dmitry said. “Luca jumped the gun.”
Motherfucking wildcard. I quickly lowered the door handle and peeked in. I was in some sort of utility room. “I’m in.”
Sidling around the walls of the room, I poked my head out its door. “Hall is clear.”
“I see your thermal,” Kelso said. “I’m on you, and Dmitry is on the villa. It’s getting chaotic.”
I edged toward the room where Alana was located and opened the door. A woman was hunched against the corner of the bed glaring at me.
“Alana?”
“You fuckers drugged me.”
“No visible signs of injury. Confirming manacle around the ankle.”
“You come any closer, and I’ll castrate you.”
“Your sister just threatened my balls, Kelly.”
“Who the hell are …” she squinted her eyes. “Levi?”
“Is there an alarm attached to that leg of yours?” I asked, stalking into the room and kneeling to inspect the ankle bracelet.
“Proximity sensor. As long as I stay near the property, it’s okay.”
Kelso informed me they had not disabled it yet.
“Sitrep at the house?” I asked.
Before anyone could answer, a hail of gunfire erupted outside.
“Holy shit!” Kelso exclaimed. “They just opened fire on each other.”
“Get the girls and boys out first,” Alana told me. “They don’t have any ankle bracelets.”
A barrage of artillery erupted over comms like the shooting was right beside me.
“Did you get my sister yet?” Callum yelled. “Damned Moretti drew first blood and shot one of the Russians. It’s a madhouse in here.”
“Ford?”
“He’s down. I’m trapped in a corner with some idiot mobster firing blindly. He’ll be out of bullets soon. Alana?”
“She’s locked down with an ankle bracelet. Doesn’t look incendiary, but the guys are checking.” I got up and walked to the hallway, unlocking a room. Two girls who couldn’t be more than fifteen cowered behind the bed. Bile rose up in my throat. “We’re getting you out of here. You’ll be safe soon.”
“But there’s shooting.”
“Don’t run outside yet,” I told them calmly. “Wait until we give the signal, okay?”
“Why should we trust you?”
“Good question,” I muttered. “Wait here.”
Ignoring the mayhem in my ear, I opened the next room and it was a young boy of indeterminate age between twelve and sixteen, lanky, with feminine features.
Those sons of bitches. Hell was too good for Ford and his cronies.
“Help is on the way, son.” With each room that I opened, my rage escalated. After unlocking the last room, I told Kelso. “We need child protective services on site. We cannot keep this under the radar. I don’t care what the fuck you say, Dmitry.”
“We’re a minute out,” Kelso said. “We’ll be coming in hot. How’s the gate?”
“I don’t think you can ram through in one shot.”
“I have grenade launcher,” Dmitry said.
“Jesus Christ.” But even as I said it, I couldn’t help but wonder if these were the types of ops I could work in. No rules. Be on the right side of the underworld. There was bad … and there was evil.
The last room was adjacent to the main hallway, and when I turned the corner to head back toward Alana’s room, my blood turned to ice.
A man was hauling a struggling Alana out of the room.
Blaze.
My wife’s abductor and assailant.
When he saw me, Blaze pointed his gun to Alana’s head at the same time I raised my rifle. My mouth curled into a snarl and I stalked toward him. “Let her go. This is between you and me, Blaze.”
He smiled derisively. “I’m impressed that you know who I am.”
“Blaze Ulrich, real name Hans. Your face is imprinted in my mind.”
At Alana’s confused expression, I said, “He’s the man who kidnapped Kelly and beat her up.”
Alana’s eyes flashed, and renewed her struggling.
“Is Blaze in there?” Kelso asked. “I didn’t see him in the main house.”
I cleared my throat.
“Proximity sensor has been disabled,” the detective told me.
I cleared my throat again.
“There’s going to be a diversion,” Dimtry said. “Be ready.”
“I’m lowering my weapons,” I told Blaze, laying the rifle to the floor. “How about we settle this man to man and you let Alana go.”
“How about I get first shot at this asshole?” Alana snarled. Her fingers dug into the arm across her chest.
“Feisty, these McGraths,” Blaze said. “I think I’m keeping this one.”
“How about it?” I said. “Can you take me in a fight?”
“I’m not stupid,” the assassin said. “You have fifty pounds on me.”
“Three, two,” Dmitry counted down.
My hand went to my Glock.
Blaze’s eyes narrowed at my movement and pointed his gun at me. My eyes went to Alana, her eyes communicated she was ready for anything.
“One.”