12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
Pony
Last night, the team met Sherry for the first time. I admit, it didn’t go the way I hoped and could’ve gone much better.
I’m disappointed they didn’t get a good feeling about her.
My guess is Sherry was apprehensive about meeting everyone. All of us together can be overwhelming, and despite our best efforts to include her, she probably felt like an outsider.
It didn’t help that Sherry somehow managed to insult every member of the team.
They took her negative comments in stride, but things took a turn when she insulted Tallahassee.
We all love Tallahassee. She’s been through more than her share of heartbreak, and we’re protective of her.
Needless to say, when Sherry insulted her, Warlock and the rest of the guys were pissed as fuck. Honestly, I couldn’t blame them.
My teammates will come around. Sherry will get to know them, everyone will become more comfortable, and it’ll get better. At least I hope so.
“Gentlemen,” our commander greets us as he comes through the team room door and moves to stand at the front of the room. He scoops up the remote and, with the press of a button, the big flat screen on the wall comes to life with a map. We pivot our chairs, focusing on the screen.
“Intel has uncovered what appears to be a human-trafficking holding facility about an hour outside Caracas.”
Venezuela. Rife with civil unrest and regular riots, it’s one of the most unstable and dangerous regions on earth.
The commander clicks the remote, changing the image to a massive, multi-level building that’s seen better days. “This facility has been connected to the Consortium.”
We’ve recently been hearing more and more about the Consortium.
It’s a massive, secretive organization with deep pockets that keeps its members well hidden.
Its corrupt criminal activities range from human trafficking to drugs, prostitution, arms dealing, and almost everything in between.
The Consortium pays well and keeps its operation mobile, which is how it’s stayed under the radar and operated with impunity for so long.
“Are there hostages on site?” Nitro asks.
“Our intel indicates approximately twenty hostages are being kept at this facility,” the commander answers.
Ricochet leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands. “We need to extract them before they’re moved to a new location.”
“If we don’t, the hostages are as good as dead,” I add.
Warlock folds his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “If we’re looking at twenty hostages, we’ll need to commandeer a vehicle large enough to transport them.”
“Any idea how many hostiles are on target?” Hawk inquires.
“Satellite imagery shows six men on regular patrol outside,” the commander informs us. “Unfortunately, no one’s managed to get eyes inside. Without intel, we’re not certain how many enemy combatants you’ll encounter.”
“If the Consortium has operations in Venezuela, there’s a good chance they’ve got the SAF on their payroll.” Doc’s tone holds an undercurrent of concern. “Last time we tangled with those assholes, it was a clusterfuck.”
We all nod at the memory. Accused of torture, executions, and opening fire on unarmed citizens, the Special Action Force is linked to hundreds of deaths in Venezuela.
Warlock sums up the plan. “We go in, eliminate anyone who gets in our way, rescue the hostages, and get out.”
Nitro strokes his hand over his scruffy jaw. “Easy in. Easy out.”
“Apologies for the hasty departure, gentlemen, but this operation is extremely time sensitive. Wheels up in thirty,” the commander says, dismissing us.
“Easy fucking day,” Hawk says with a grin as we all get to our feet and make our way out to gear up.