Hard Case VI: The Killer Inside (John Harding Book 6) (8 page)

Damn it! I didn’t think of that either. The cold water put my mind in the deep freeze. “Yeah, it was me. My two Snow Whites demanded I jump in the damn ice water after this goofy woman that practically threw herself overboard while arguing with her companion. That damn water was cold, and I had saltwater in my crotch for nearly two hours.”

“Ahhhhh… that’s so sweet,” Lynn cooed. “You’re our hero. Isn’t he, Clint?”

“Oh yeah,” Clint agreed. “This rescue story will provide many entertaining moments on our way to the border.”

Damn it!

My silence must have tipped Lynn off to my reluctance to pull tonight’s stunt out tomorrow morning for Casey and Lucas to pick over. “Think of it this way, Cheese – no way do you get home in time for a Bay poking workout on Monday.”

She’s right! Yes! A bright spot, no matter how dim, is still a bright spot. “Thanks for that, Lynn.”

“No problem. I’m thinking we get back in time for a double poking session on Tuesday.”

Damn it!

* * *

I flew us all down in our Global 6000 to much ridicule, pretended barf incidents, and the usual Cruella Deville threat when flying that if she barfs, I bleed. Laredo left with our new UH-60M Blackhawk with stealth technology. He would have everything prepped for our extraction. It would be a tight fit. The UH-60M crews two pilots, two flight chief gunners, and eleven troops. There would be double duty on the way back to get us all on board. If we came away with Isis prisoners, I would be leaving the long way back through the tunnel with Lucas, Casey, Denny, and Clint, depending on the number of prisoners.

Red Dragon Security found the American end of a tunnel in San Ysidro, housed in a well guarded warehouse atop it. We would be taking it first. The other end on the Mexican side exited under a group of shacks on the Avenida Negrete in Zona Norte. Denny had reached Angela the night before too. He told her to hide anywhere she could overnight, fearing the Tijuana police might take care of loose ends since her visit to the station in search of Smitty. The minions had been briefed. They would hold the tunnel against all takers. Gus Denova, Quays Tannous and Silvio Ruelas would hold the Mexican end of the tunnel in Zona Norte. Lucas’s Marine buddies, Chuck Bucholz, and Jan (Sal) Sallaz would hold the American side with men from their Red Dragon company. They would reinforce the minions if needed.

Crue had opted to bring Clint Jr, with assistants Dannie and Amara. They would be staying at the Pier South Resort at Imperial Beach. The assault on the warehouse would take place immediately. Red Dragon would be providing transport and support. Denny had permission to use Montgomery Airfield in San Diego. Lynn and her minions would leave immediately for the address Angela gave Denny to secure her safety. They would join us the moment we secured both ends of the tunnel. Clint and Tonto sat with Lynn and Clint Jr throughout the flight. It was an easy ride except for our two assistants, Dannie and Amara, watching the Monster Squad readying themselves to do battle.

At 0500 Lucas with Denny as his spotter, shot the two men lulling inattentively at the warehouse entrance from a vantage point a hundred yards away. They didn’t expect an armed assault force. Casey, Clint, Tonto, and I moved to secure the facility door. We went in quiet with Tonto in the lead. There were four guys, stoned out of their minds. This end of the assault turned into a laugher. It took Tonto only twenty seconds to find the tunnel entrance. After sending fingerprints and pictures of the four bewildered men inside to Jafar, we secured them while Chuck and Sal arrived with Denny and Lucas. Tonto provided amusement for our prisoners, prepping them as we awaited word from Jafar. He moved from one to the other with nips, snarls, and lunges at their faces and groins. By the time we received word they were gangbangers from San Diego, they were motivated.

Denny relieved Tonto of his duty. “Okay… here’s how this works. I’ll ask you a question. You answer or I have Agent Tonto remove one of your appendages with his teeth. Would you like a demonstration?”

Energetic negative headshakes, and cringing pleas claiming the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth would be their only answers. They were helpful in that we found out the other side of the tunnel wasn’t guarded because everyone in the Tijuana area, including the police knew it was there. Common knowledge it belonged to the Tijuana Cartel guaranteed people did not wander into the shacks located above it. They did know something about an address nearby the Mexican side’s tunnel entrance where a halfway house for drug and human trafficking went on.

“Good start,” Denny said. “When were you expecting the next movement of anything?”

“On Monday,” the one doing the talking for the four answered. “They move nothing on the weekends. The best and safest time is during the week at rush hour.”

“Here’s a biggie. I want you to think carefully before answering. Agent Tonto is like a canine lie detector. He senses a lie as it’s coming out of your mouth.” Denny gestured at Clint, who knelt for a moment, whispered in Tonto’s ear, and then straightened away. Tonto leaped to a spot directly in front of the speaker, his nose inches away from the man’s face. Tonto grinned. “We know you have an address where you bunch house the drugs and people for distribution. We want that address, and we want to know if there have been men from the Middle East moved through here.”

The man could not even see Denny any more. Every time he moved his head, Tonto moved with him, his eyes unblinking. I had a feeling while watching this amusing interrogation technique that Lynn had something to do with this new training quirk.

“Yes! There is a large estate only a few miles away on the outskirts of Chula Vista. It is a block type warehouse on Main Street. We are not allowed into the tunnel, but I have heard it is booby-trapped. I have only been to the safe-house twice. Both times I drove dark men there who came through the tunnel. They did not speak. I could tell they were pissed off. There is much the ‘OTM’s’ must go through in reaching the tunnel from where they come from.”

“How many of these ‘other than Mexicans’ did you escort to the safe-house?”

“Four. They came with six crates of weapons.”

There’s some good news.

“Have you heard of an American taken hostage in Tijuana,” Denny asked.

The guy looked at his companions while Tonto nosed around his face. “No. They would not have told us of such a thing.”

“Leave these guys with us, Denny,” Chuck said. “The faster your team crosses the better. If Lynn works as quickly as you anticipate, she’ll be waiting for you at the other end of the tunnel with a knife in one hand, and your captured Seal in the other.”

We enjoyed that remark for a moment, and then did exactly what Chuck suggested. Sal went with us. He would go part way into the tunnel until we made sure communications through to Jafar while we were in the tunnel remained intact. Tonto proceeded as trained. No trip wire or explosives could fool him. Their so called booby traps were rudimentary, probably due to the fact they didn’t want their own men stupidly blowing up the tunnel by accident. After the first two Tonto sniffed out, Sal stayed in position.

“Keep testing every few minutes, guys,” Sal said, “even if it’s only for my peace of mind. If I lose contact hi tech, switch to the old walkie-talkies. Nothing blocks them.”

“Will do, Sal,” Denny answered. “If we get too many for the helicopter trip back, we’ll need both ends of this damn tunnel. We’re going to seal it once we reunite the Seal Team.”

“Let me know when you have the other end secure. Chuck and I will watch it for you while the reunion takes place.”

“Once Crue finds out where the party is, we’ll call,” Denny replied.

When we reached the other end, Tonto crouched near the slanted dual trap doors with a low growl. Clint smiled at me as Casey, Lucas, and Denny gave me big grins with okay finger signs. I gave them dual finger signals back before throwing on my extra Kevlar, including the Kevlar helmet I had strapped on my pack. It was time for the Cheeseburger to take the first hit. Clint shielded Tonto while Casey attached the charge to the door. Seconds later, the doors slammed open with the explosive discharge, catching the welcoming party on the other side by surprise. The ones still on their feet fired on the giant target bulling into the upper room: me. Not taking any direct hits from the panicked guards, I blitzed the one in front of me as Lucas and Casey followed me through with pinpoint precision death. We weren’t here to take prisoners. That task was to fall for now on Crue and the minions.

* * *

Angela Barrios huddled in the corner of her closet under a clothing pile. Her heart raced after talking with a man who claimed he would help her, but she must find somewhere else besides her home to wait. Angela spotted the two policemen from the station before they saw her in the street. With no place to run, she hurried back into her small apartment on the second floor of the Tijuana tenement house. She heard them bang on her door, ordering her to open it. Angela remained where she was, praying they would assume she had left already without searching for her too closely.

Angela clenched the loose clothing in her fists as the door to her apartment banged open, stabbing memories of how happy she had been only days ago. Gerald Smithson loved her. Smitty, as his friends called him, repeated it even as the police dragged him away. Now, he was probably dead, and these men would soon kill her too. Worst of all, Angela had no idea why. She could plead with them if she knew what they wanted. As the sliding door on her closet slammed open against its stops, she knew her visit to the police station had been a huge mistake. First a laugh sounded above her before the pile of clothing was ripped away.

“Stand her up,” a woman wearing a dark Muslim hijab facial mask ordered in heavily accented Spanish.

The policeman who had tossed aside her clothing cover grabbed Angela’s arm, yanking her painfully to a standing position in front of the woman.

“Is this the one who asked about the man taken?”

“Yes.”

“You will come with us, little bird,” the woman said. “Your man has been most uncooperative. With you bound next to him, I am sure he will be more helpful.”

“But what is it you want? We have done nothing wrong,” Angela pleaded. “I will help you. What is it you want to know?”

The woman laughed at her. “We want nothing from you, little bird. It was a mistake not to have taken you the first night. Bring her. We will go to the house with her man before we move them both. Cut her so she knows not to scream.”

“No! I will say nothing. I will not scream! You won’t even need to bind me! Please!”

The woman laughed again, obviously amused with the effect her threat had on Angela. “Very well, little bird. Do not make a peep or we will skin you. Bring her unbound as if she is merely being taken for questioning willingly.”

With one of the policemen in front, Angela in the middle, and the second policeman behind her, the woman in the hijab followed out the door. They did not get far. The sounds of stun-gun arcs, followed by the bodies of the two policemen catapulted back inside the room to the floor, momentarily shocked the woman formerly giving orders to a standstill. A grim faced blonde woman ran at her, pistol whipping her to the floor. When she cried out, the door slammed shut, and the blonde put a knife tip under her right eye.

“Hi there. I’ve been listening to you mess with my sister,” the blonde said in Spanish, making a small incision in the woman’s skin under her eye. The blood trickling down her cheek inside the hijab froze the woman in mid motion as she had been about to grab her head where she had been pistol whipped. The hijab was torn from her head and tossed aside by the blonde. “What the hell’s the mask for. Do you think you’re Zorro? Nobody messes with my sister Angela. Ain’t that right guys?”

Her minions echoed the sentiment with amusement while restraining and gagging the two policemen. Silvio comforted Angela.

“I’m Lynn. You can call me mistress. I heard you tell my sis you know where her man is. That’s good. That will save us a lot of time. You’re going to tell me where he is, and take me and a few of my friends there.”

The woman spat on the floor. “I tell you nothing. You will die in prison for touching me. You don’t know who I am… but you will.”

Gus saw it coming, diving in front of Lynn, his hands making calming gestures he didn’t know would work or not. “Crue… easy… you brought your special kit. Make her sing.”

Lynn patted her minion’s face with a smile. “Thanks, Gus. Take Angela into the bedroom for a moment, Silvio. Those cops ain’t going anywhere. I haven’t been on one of these fact finding missions for a while. I’m getting awfully tired of people spitting on the floor in front of me. You and Quays get Zorro into position. Honey… you’re going to beg me to let you lead our rescue mission. Gag her real good, boys. This is going to hurt a bit.”

Gus Denova and Quays Tannous manhandled the woman on the floor into a sideways position, plastic tying her at ankles, and wrists behind her back. Gus pinched her nose until she opened her mouth. He shoved a mouth sized rubber ball in before releasing her nose, and tying a gag around her head. Gus and Quays then anchored her head and body to the floor with hands and knees pressing her motionless.

Lynn took an eyedropper bottle out of the kit Gus removed from his pack. She showed it to her prisoner, shaking it a bit. “This is a diluted mixture of sulfuric acid and water. To you, when I squeeze a drop down into your ear, you’ll think it’s one hundred proof, and you’re in hell. Your whole world will be pain. All the colored fireworks soon exploding inside your head behind your eyes will be illustrations of unimaginable pain. I’m going to teach you why my friends call me The Mistress of the Unimaginable. Here it comes, Zorro. You’re going to wish to God you had said ‘oh yes Mistress Lynn, I so want to help you’. Hold on tight, boys. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”