“You flying the chopper Rio brought?” Steele asked Donovan.
Donovan jerked his thumb toward Nathan. “He knows more about choppers than I do. I can fly pretty much anything, but he can fly them better.”
“Let’s go then.”
They did a quick weapons check, tested their radios and receivers and then lifted off. Steele ran down the checklist in terse tones until everyone was clear on their assignments.
The helicopter buzzed low, clipping the tops of the canopy of trees and then burst into the clearing where the compound was sprawled. The atmosphere inside the chopper was tense. Expressions were focused and grim. Rifles rose, gripped tightly as they prepared to do the helo drop inside the walls.
“On my signal,” Steele barked.
The chopper swooped in and hovered several feet off the ground. Below them, men scattered in all directions, taking cover.
“Go! Go! Go!” Steele shouted.
They dropped from both sides of the chopper, rifles up. From the corner of Steele’s eye he saw the men in the guard towers start dropping like flies. The snipers were doing their jobs.
They fanned out, chaos surrounding them. A heavy explosion rocked the ground, and smoke and pieces of stone blew into the courtyard. The staccato of gunfire filled the air. Hoarse shouts, a few screams. Fuck, there were women.
“Watch for the women,” he barked into his mic. “Take as few casualties as possible. I want a sweep of the entire house. Find Maren and make sure she’s covered.”
Without waiting for confirmation, Steele moved through the courtyard, his eyes peeled for any sign of Maren. Many of Mendoza’s men were on the ground, facedown, hands cupped behind their heads as KGI and Resnick’s team yelled for them to get down and stay down.
“Guard towers clear,” P.J. radioed. “We’re moving in to be your secondary.”
Steele hurried toward the glass doors that had already been shattered by gunfire. Once inside he stayed to the walls, moving stealthily through each room. When he got to the large living room in the center of the house, one of Mendoza’s armed guards appeared carrying a machine gun. As soon as he signaled his intent to shoot, Steele dropped him. He stepped over the body and hit the stairs.
No one was upstairs. It was quiet and the rooms were empty. He made quick work of the bedrooms and the two bathrooms and came upon what appeared to be Mendoza’s study last. Finding it empty, he swore. Where the hell was Maren?
“Report,” he said into the mic. “Upstairs is clear. No sign of Maren.”
There was a lengthy silence, and then one by one the others checked in. No sign of Maren or Mendoza.
“I’m coming down,” Steele said.
“Downstairs is clear,” Donovan reported.
Steele took the steps two at a time and burst back into the living room where Donovan, Sam and Dolphin were standing.
“Where the f**k is she?” Steele demanded. “We have to be missing something. Bastard must have a hidey-hole he stashed himself and her in when we hit the ground.”
“The outside is secure. Kyle Phillips and his team along with the rest of ours are rounding up the riffraff now,” Donovan said.
“This was too damn easy,” Sam growled. “I would say they were expecting us, but judging by the panic and chaos when we started shooting, Mendoza’s guards were caught with their pants down. Doesn’t sound at all like the man Resnick described.”
Steele had a very bad feeling about this, and his gut never steered him wrong.
Resnick burst in, and for once he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked pissed and frustrated.
“We got nothing out there,” he said. “Grounds are secure. Apart from the guards in the tower, we have minimal casualties. They couldn’t give up fast enough when the shooting started.”
“Pull in everyone who isn’t standing guard over Mendoza’s people,” Steele ordered. “I want a thorough sweep of the entire area.”
An hour later, the members of KGI gathered in the living room all wearing grim expressions. Dolphin bounded down the stairs with Baker and Renshaw on his heels just as Rio and Terrence appeared from the kitchen area.
“I found this,” Dolphin said, holding out a folded piece of stationery. “You better read it, Steele. You’re not going to like it.”
Steele snatched the paper from his teammate’s hand and quickly opened it, scanning the contents.
Mendoza knew about KGI from one of his men. They knew everything about me, including my connection to KGI. Mendoza told me we were leaving and that his current personnel were expendable. He was counting on you to get rid of them for him. All I know is that he’s going to Paris for plastic surgery and then he’s relocating to start over again. He’s promised not to hurt me if I cooperate with his plans. I’m scared out of my mind, but I don’t have a choice but to do as he’s ordered me to. He wants me to oversee his recovery after his surgery. If you find this, please know I would have done anything I could to prevent this from happening. I hope to see you again and I’m putting all of my faith in you not to give up and to find me again.
Maren
The paper shook in Steele’s hand. The others crowded around to read and Sam took it from Steele, his expression growing more furious as he read.
“Son of a bitch!” Steele swore.
He wanted to put his fist through a goddamn wall. This was bullshit. He knew he shouldn’t have waited for the other teams to be pulled in. Now, because he’d waited, Maren had slipped through their fingers and was enduring God knows what at Mendoza’s hands.