Chapter 4
Illinois International Port District
The following night…
Jagger sat with his back resting against the rough bark of a tree as he and the others waited in the wooded area adjacent to their targeted location. The shadows of the night helped to conceal their presence to those working a hundred yards from where they stood.
It didn’t hurt that they were dressed in head-to-toe black.
Their boots and cargo pants. The long-sleeve shirts and tactical vests. Even their plain, black ballcaps and black face paint matched.
Every detail of the mission had been meticulously ironed out by none other than Agent Foster. Oops, his bad.
Talia.
The woman had come to their early-morning meeting with the entire op planned out from start to finish. Everything from what they would wear down to their choice of weaponry and ammo had been specifically selected for this mission.
Over the course of the day, they’d gone over the plan again and again. And again. Whenever a question came up, they addressed it with as much expedience as they could.
If one of them had a concern, Talia already had the answer. The impressive Homeland agent had left nothing to chance.
Speaking of the mission…
Jagger pinched the buttons on the sides of his tactical watch to check the time. The face lit up with a soft, red glow allowing him to see that it was eleven-twenty-three.
Seven minutes to go time.
And he was more than ready to get the show on the road.
Glancing around, he noted the looks on the others’ darkened faces. The tension was clear in their shoulders. Pre-mission adrenaline keeping their muscles tight and their trigger fingers ready.
It had only been a couple of days, but Jagger felt more than confident in Echo Team’s abilities. As long as they stuck with the plan and followed orders as they were given, there wouldn’t be any problems.
“Okay, people, listen up.” Talia stepped in the center of the tiny clearing surrounded by the trees they were using as cover.
“I know it’s been a long couple of days, and you’re all ready to have this one behind you.
Trust me, I am, too. But I also know what’s at stake if we fail to keep those guns off the streets, so I’d like to run through everything one last time. ”
“Roger that, partner.” Jagger couldn’t resist sending her a wink.
Talia’s golden eyes found his through the dark. Their gazes held for a pulse-rising moment before she blinked and looked away.
“We’ll go step-by-step,” she instructed. “But this time, instead of Delta taking the lead, I want to hear from Echo. Shaw, you’re up.”
Emmett Shaw. Six-five. Two-twenty-five. Forty-two years old.
The former Marine was slated to be Echo’s team leader. The man’s dark hair, eyes, and the beard covering his strong, chiseled jaw gave him a hardened look befitting the new position he held.
But tough looks did not a leader of elite operators make. Tonight would give them a better idea of just how ready the man was for the role.
“Yes, ma’am.” Emmett took a small step forward. Clearing his throat, his stoic eyes scanned the group intently as he spoke. “When it’s go-time, we’ll exit the staging area and make our way to the first ISB. That’s the group of smaller storage buildings twenty-five yards due east.”
In field ops, the “staging area” was the spot where the team—or in this case, teams—gathered to get organized before executing the mission. In this case, it was the tiny clearing they were currently standing in now.
An ISB was what operatives called the intermediate staging base. In other words, these were the stopping points the teams used for cover between take-off and mission complete.
“Savage.” Talia turned to Echo’s resident computer genius. “What’s next?”
Blake Savage. Six-two. Two-fifteen. Thirty-eight years old.
Former Naval Intelligence, the man’s short, sandy-blond hair barely showed beneath the black ballcap on his head. His sharp, blue eyes, however, shone brightly through the shadows.
“After that, we’ll split off into two groups,” Blake explained. “Group A will make their way through the buildings from the north. B will do the same from the south, with the two meeting back up at the second ISB location.”
“Which is where, Winslow?” Talia moved on to Gwen.
The blonde demolitions expert didn’t miss a beat when it got to her turn. With her M16 hanging loosely from the straps clipped to her vest, she ran through the next step in the plan.
“Center of the east side of the easternmost storage building.”
“Very good.” Talia nodded. “What’s next?”
Gwen dipped her delicate chin in acknowledgement and went on to explain the first truly vital portion of the mission.
“Next, we will split up into pairs. With our partners, we’ll follow our predesignated routes through the rows of stacked shipping containers, taking out any verified targets or threats along the way.”
“Pop quiz, Brown.” The impressive Homeland agent looked to Echo’s designated pilot next. “Where is ISB three?”
Draven Brown. Six-three. Two-twenty. Thirty-six years old.
From what Jagger remembered from the personnel file Talia had been kind enough to provide, the former Naval aviator was also a talented weapons specialist. When they’d first met, Jagger had thought the guy looked more like a California surfer than the solid operator he knew Brown to be.
Of course, he knew better than most that there was always more to someone than what they allowed the world to see.
“There is no ISB three,” Brown answered Talia’s trick question accurately. “Once we reach the rows of storage containers, we’ll officially be in the area of operations.”
“Excellent.” The woman in charge nodded with approval before turning her attention to the remaining Echo members. “Okay, Mercer,” she addressed the man who’d been hired as the new team’s medic. “We’re almost to the finish line. Take us through the next step in our mission.”
Lucas Mercer. Six-two. Two-twelve. Forty-two years old.
The man stepped out from the shadows to share the next-to-the-final portion of their plan. There was a wisdom in his narrow, blackened gaze. A knowledge that came from only one source.
Haunting images from traumatic events in the past. Living pictures that were never very far away.
“Once we’re past the containers,” Lucas began, “we’ll make our way into the red zone. This is where we’ll be out in the open. Exposed. It’s also where we’ll meet the most resistance.”
Resistance. A nice way of saying the men who would most definitely try to kill Jagger and the others the second their cover was blown.
“It’s also where we should find the cache of weapons we’ve been tasked with securing,” the medic finished.
Talia didn’t waste a breath before chiming back in. “Once we’ve located and restrained each of the men on Arlo Sanchez’s payroll, we will do what, Baxter?” She turned her focus to the final member of Echo Team.
Jimmy Baxter. Six-foot even. Two-oh-eight. Forty-three years old.
Sounding slightly bored in his delivery, the former Army Ranger and Echo’s lead sniper blew out a breath before wrapping up the final step in their plan.
“From there, we stand guard over the cartel assholes and the guns they’re trying to sell until your secret team of government ghosts swoops in to make it all go away.”
The muscles in the back of Jagger’s neck tensed and his brows dipped inward when, at first, he felt annoyed by the other man’s seemingly poor attitude.
But then he remembered how anxious he’d felt during his first official R.I.S.C.
op and figured the guy was just tired of waiting for the action to begin.
I hear ya, brother.
“Remember.” Talia addressed the entire group. “We need to keep as many of these guys alive as we can. Each and every one of them is leverage we can use against Sanchez. We get them to turn on their boss, we bring down the entire Los Dios Cartel.”
“If you can get them to turn,” Jimmy muttered.
The stunning Homeland agent turned her serious expression his way. “You bring them to me alive, Baxter, and I’ll get them to talk.”
Wonder if she’ll let me watch.
“What are we waiting for then?” Baxter stared back. “I say we get this party started.”
Jagger couldn’t agree more.
After another quick check of the time, Talia reached up to the left shoulder of her vest. “Perfect timing.” Her beautiful, moonlit eyes returned to those around her. “Switch to comms.”
He and the others mimicked her movement by turning on their individual communications devices. Reaching up to his left ear, Jagger confirmed the tiny earbud there was on and its volume was turned up full blast.
With their weapons held steady in their grip, he and the others waited for the official green light to be given.
“Stay sharp out there.” Talia gave the final part of her speech.
“There are a lot of blind spots, so you’re going to have to be ready.
Watch your partner’s back with one eye and keep another on your own six.
And remember…the ultimate goal is for us all to come out of the other side of this thing alive…
after we’ve completed a successful mission.
So stay safe, and let’s get the job done. ”
“Copy that, boss.” Draven gave her a quick nod.
No one else offered anything more because there wasn’t anything left to be said. They knew the plan. They had their orders. All that was left to do was—
“Let’s move.”
On the woman’s command, Jagger sidled up next to his partner and the group of thirteen began the short walk through the trees. Thanks to their training, their booted steps were near-silent despite the downed sticks and limbs around them.
Talia raised a fist in the air that brought them all to an immediate halt. With one final glance to those around her, the capable woman pointed forward, indicating it was time to boogie.
Moving together as one, Jagger and the others crossed through the tree line’s edge. As they made their way toward the back of the nearest building, Jagger’s head remained on a constant swivel.