Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“That’s my man.” Crew seemed to struggle to sit still. “How’s this for a corny pickup line—I may have shot you with my Glock, baby, but you got me with Cupid’s arrow.”
I snorted softly.
“That shit needs to be on a card,” Ryan laughed.
“Right?!” Crew bobbed his head to music that wasn’t there.
Elliott shifted in his seat. “Okay, we’re closing in. They’re heading toward the N-260, which puts us right on the French border.” We were going straight up into the mountains again, in other words. “They mention El Port, a small town on the way, and Petrov confirms everything is ready to start their operations.”
“So it’s not another safehouse,” Ryan deduced.
“Doesn’t sound like it,” Elliott confirmed. “Last but not least, they have a warehouse.”
I took a deep breath.
Daddy’s almost there, Blake.
The sun had started to set when we passed El Port and continued up another mountain. We knew exactly where Carillo and Gajero were with their people. We had satellite images of a vineyard and an adjacent warehouse in the middle of nowhere, on a slope a few klicks away from us, and much like in Andorra, we couldn’t approach on the main road without being seen. But unlike in Andorra, the mountains here weren’t as sharp. The terrain wasn’t as rough.
Crew led the way to a valley, from where we’d hoof it.
“Five minutes,” he said, killing the headlights.
Ryan and I started gearing up. We reached for our combat vests in the back and put them on. Then we grabbed our helmets and attached the mounts for thermal vision and night vision.
“I assume we’re a go as soon as it’s dark,” I said.
“Yes.” Elliott scrubbed a hand over his jaw, eyes fixed on the screen. “Finally—let’s see…” He’d just received a wall of text from someone. “Bad news and good news. Security’s pretty fucking tight—they have cameras covering every angle of the property. Good news—Willow’s in.”
“Can she turn the cameras off?” Ryan asked.
Elliott hummed, still reading. “Unfortunately not. She can, however, cut the power, but she thinks they might have backup generators.”
“How many cartel fuckers are we dealing with here?” Crew asked next.
“Well, we know Carillo has eight men, including Petrov,” Elliott said. “And Gajero arrived with four vehicles, two of which are vans—Mercedes Sprinter. So a minimum of…let’s say…four drivers, Gajero himself, possibly four or five guards…? Maybe more. I don’t know until we get an estimate on the cargo. If the vans are filled with hostages, we could be talking twenty-five hostiles altogether.”
“And we have seven men ready for combat, so they’re clearly outnumbered,” I said.
“Man, I wish I’d said that,” Crew whispered to himself. “That was so badass. You’re badass, Joel.”
I wasn’t badass. I was a father ready to risk everything for the safe return of his daughter. But realistically speaking, the Carillo numbers didn’t scare me. Ryan and I would take care of most of them before the battle even began.
Combat wasn’t about numbers. A single man could defeat hundreds if he had the right weapon. And we did. We just had to ensure Blake, Marisa, and any other possible hostages didn’t get hurt in the mayhem.
Speaking of weapons…
Ryan hauled one of our hardcases from the back, the one containing grenades.
“Maybe we need to take a page from the cartel book and go with shock-and-awe,” I said.
“It has to be quick.” Elliott nodded in agreement. “From the moment we charge, it’s safe to assume they will try to use hostages for cover.”
Over my dead body were they gonna harm Blake any further.
Crew found a good hiding spot for us at the foot of the hill, behind a cliff expansion that protected us in case anyone patrolled the peak and looked down. Carillo’s property was just some twenty yards down the peak on the other side, so we had to be ready for anything.
“More good news from Willow,” Elliott said, jumping out of the car with the laptop in his grasp. “Their security cameras don’t have night vision, which means they’re angled where they have spotlights. We can assume their property is lit up plenty, but we can get close before we have to worry about getting caught on camera.”
That was great.
The other two cars rolled in and parked next to ours, and we all looked to Mercier. Coach had reported that Petrov had been on the phone once more, and the Russian really loved to speak German.
“It was about security.” Mercier answered our unasked question. “I believe Carillo has appointed Petrov to be the chief of security, and he was on the phone talking to someone about upgrading the security around the property.”
Even better. I glanced at Elliott. “That’s gotta mean they don’t expect an immediate attack, right?”
“It’s not a bad sign, anyway,” he replied.
Good.
I grabbed a pair of binoculars from the back of the SUV and trailed over to where I could peer up the mountainside. I adjusted the focus and estimated we had roughly fifty-five…maybe fifty-six yards to the top, and the surface level was all grass and smaller rocks. Some parts had steps built into the soil, from when the slope had been used to grow grapes. Approximately twenty-five-degree angle… I checked my watch and measured the humidity at 76%, wind speed at—