Chapter Five
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Two months later…
She’d spent the past eight weeks back home in California, making calls to reestablish old contacts.
It wasn’t as hard to do as Catori thought it was going to be and she managed to revive over eighty-percent of her prior operational and logistics connections.
The initial weapons she’d spent the last week acquiring had cost a pretty penny.
In order to obtain the remaining weapons she would acquire she needed to install an appropriate armory to house them with twenty-four hour monitored security.
The Promised Land was once a one thousand four hundred fifty ton three hundred six foot converted Crosley-Class High Speed Transport, or APD.
She was currently moored along the pier outside the new Red Starr HRT facility.
Sold for scrap in the mid-seventies, the ship had been used by numerous enterprises until Red had acquired it nearly twelve years ago.
Since its return from Red’s last ill-fated mission, Catori had left it setting in dry dock awaiting a refit that Red had taken years to design.
The crew had just finished the last minute shakedown cruise and was working on a very long list of red lines.
Considering the new Knighthawk hadn’t been delivered in time for the shakedown, Catori was certain the red line list would grow.
All of Red Starr HRT’s assets were now either being actively moved to the new base in San Diego or being dispositioned.
She’d hired an entire team of support personnel, however, she hadn’t technically hired one team member that was required to complete the organization’s primary mission. That was about to change.
Catori pushed up her sunglasses so they rested on top of her head, taking time to study the layout.
John “Trigger” Dixon was third up on her list and was supposedly employed at Mac’s Auto Repair, the dilapidation in front of her.
Recalling Trigger’s dossier, she didn’t find that surprising.
He liked working with his hands and this would give him the outlet he needed after serving his time in the service.
She was working her way backwards on the list and would save her lead operator for last. The first two men she met weren’t the right fit, although that didn’t mean they weren’t good at what they did.
Red had always claimed she was too selective.
Opening the car door, Catori swung her denim-clad legs out of the vehicle and placed her sensible knee-high flat boots onto the graveled dirt.
Much to her dismay, she’d ended up having to wear something else besides flip-flops and her issued boots.
Knowing she should be presentable, she still chose something comfortable.
Her black form-fitting blazer contained a thin belt, which she straightened before slamming her car door.
The way the bottom of her coat flared over her waist it was easy to carry her Sig Sauer 9mm M11-A1 in a RHS Paddle holster on her right hip.
The only sounds to carry through the air were the rocks shifting under her weight and a bird cawing on a power line. The place seemed uninhabited, yet the bubbly blonde waitress at the diner in town said that Trigger would be here.
Walking to the tattered painted black door where the top window contained a diagonal crack within its structure, Catori tried the handle but found it locked.
She rapped on the glass. When no one appeared, she wiped off the grime of dirt on the pane with her fist. Inside looked deserted, with a cluttered office directly in front of her and an empty stall to her right.
The one farther down contained a heap of metal and she wasn’t so sure what the make and model was.
Shit, she wasn’t sure it could be restored.
Taking a step back, Catori looked to her left and then to her right.
She glanced back over her shoulder toward the long stretch of road and saw the oils of the blacktop surface rising as it baked in the sun.
It was boiling out here and she wanted this meeting finalized so she could complete her drive to Missouri by nightfall.
Deciding to go around back, she was walking along the side of the garage when she heard a growl that stopped her in her tracks.
“Good boy,” Catori said in a soothing tone in hopes that the large German Shepherd remained calm.
The beautiful animal was standing toward the back of the building, his brown eyes riveted to her.
She stayed where she was, not wanting to give the dog any reason to attack. “I’m friendly, Shep. No threat here.”
“Diesel, down.” The deep raspy voice that had given the order belonged to a man with a lean muscular form, not quite six feet tall.
He wore a baseball cap twisted on backwards and he was wiping grease from his hands with an oil rag.
His black shaggy hair immediately gave away that this was the man she was looking for. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“You can if you’re John ‘Trigger’ Dixon.”
Catori waited for the Shepherd to sit back on his hunches.
She didn’t comment on the dog’s name, however apropos it might be considering he guarded a mechanic’s garage.
From what her research suggested, Dixon worked for Mac.
The older man was on the verge of retirement and he’d given a job to John upon arriving back home from his deployment.
The former military man had to be ready to pull his hair out, no matter how striking it might be.
“Trigger?” John casually looked down at her waist where her weapon rested before going back to removing the grease from his fingers.
“You’re military. I think you’ve come to the wrong place.
I’ve done my duty to my country, ma’am. With the amount of metal in my left arm, I’m not really needed anymore. ”
“I would disagree with that statement.” Catori could see the interest in his brown eyes, so she continued with her inquiry.
There was something in his demeanor that struck a chord with her.
Chemistry was vital when working with others in a life and death situation.
She liked this man. “Your close combat maneuvers are outstanding. That kind of talent shouldn’t be wasted. ”
“It’s not a skill that’s often used in the civilian world.” Trigger stuck his rag in his back pocket before crossing his arms and leaning up against the cinder blocks. She was happy to see that she had his attention. “You want to cut to the chase?”
“I like a man who’s direct. As much as I’d like to sum this up within three words and be on my way, it’s not that simple.” Catori nodded toward the building. “Mind if we go inside where the sun won’t bake us both to death?”
“This?” Trigger said with a laugh, looking up toward the sky. “This ain’t nothin’.”
That Southern charm and the offhanded comments of his would come in handy, especially if the team were engaged in an intimate conflict.
This type of carefree attitude could sometimes defuse a hostile situation.
Then again it could also be used in a wrong manner, leading to disarray.
It was Catori’s place to make the call if he knew how and when to talk himself out of precarious situations.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go over my proposition outside in the heat.
” Catori studied him and caught the interest he had in her statement.
Crest had added a personal note on Trigger’s profile stating that he was a professional at maintaining his cool in hostage situations, having proven himself time and again within a Special Operations Unit within the Marines.
He was a thirty-one year old man and his calm demeanor was something she wanted for the team.
“I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say. ”
Trigger considered her offer, showing the patience that had been instilled within him from childhood.
His background stated that his parents were still married and lived in the same house that they had raised their family in.
His father was a manager of the local bank while Trigger’s mother had stayed at home to take care of her children.
Dixon’s sister was married with two school-aged children and lived in the same neighborhood where she was raised.
It was an all American family that had written to Trigger regularly and had always been there to greet him upon arriving back into the States.
When he nodded, she knew that she’d garnered his attention enough to hear the rest of what she had to say.
Catori warily looked at the dog as she took a step forward, but Diesel seemed unaffected now that Trigger had given him a command.
Diesel was Mac’s dog, from what the waitress had said at the diner.
He shouldn’t be a problem going forward.
She’d seen K-9s do wonderful things out in the field, but there wasn’t a place for him on her team.
She would have sworn she heard laughter in the light breeze that suddenly kicked up, causing the dust at her feet to rise as she continued to follow Trigger around the back of the building.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” Trigger asked, motioning toward an old vending machine that had just as much grime on it as everything else in the garage.
She honestly didn’t care about the dirt, having slept some nights in places people wouldn’t walk in during the daytime.
If he thought this place would make her uncomfortable, she was looking forward to proving him wrong.
Unfortunately there wasn’t any air conditioning, but at least they were out of the sun.
“I think the expiration dates are still good on those cans.”