The Good Soldier (28 page)

"What if they move out with one or more of the kids?" Klein said.

"We've got a man there already. He's watching. We've got a few units nearby. In cars and ready to go. If they try to leave with a child, we'll be on their asses."

The room fell silent. An audible
whirr
sound slipped in from the hall. The fan had kicked back on. Maybe Frank had already called about it.

"All right, guys," I said. "I got nothing else. We'll reconvene here at noon. Go spend time with your families. And those of you still single don't get too drunk tonight."

The last comment elicited a couple of chuckles and grins. The men got up and left the room without a word. After they cleared out, only Frank and I remained.

"I think that went OK," he said.

I shrugged. "Suppose so." I sat down across from Frank. "'Bout as well as I expected."

"You think they'll aim to neutralize?"

"No," I said. "You?"

Frank shook his head and didn't respond. He leaned back and crossed his arms. His head dropped back to the point where the edge of the back of the chair supported him at the base of his neck. His Adam's apple bobbed up then down, and then he cleared his throat.

I waited a few seconds for him say something. He didn't. I rapped on the table twice with my knuckles and stood. "I'm going to head out. Grab a beer with me?"

He shifted in the chair and straightened up. "Nah. Think I'll head home."

"Suit yourself." I walked to the door and glanced over my shoulder. He'd slouched down again and was staring at the ceiling. There was no point in asking again. Frank would spend the night in the office, like he had most nights the last two months.

Frank pulled our car into the parking lot of a closed down donut shop about a mile from the house. I stepped out into the cold air. The wind hit me like a sheet of ice. My cheeks burned and my lips went dry. Dark clouds hung low in the sky, a prelude to a winter storm. As long as the snow held off a few hours, they'd be beneficial to us, blocking out the final rays of a dying December sun. By five o'clock it'd be as dark as night. Dark enough for us to move down the street undetected.

I grabbed my earpiece and wrapped it around the side of my head. Flipped my transmitter on and said, "Hall, come in."

Hall was positioned on top of the house across the street from our target. No one knew he was there, least of all the homeowners. The guy was a chameleon and could blend in anywhere.

A few seconds passed, then a gravelly voice responded. "Yeah?"

"What you got over there?"

"No movement since late last night. Two went in, three exited and haven't returned."

"No kids?"

"Affirmative."

"We're going to move in at five, so if anything changes between now and then, you let me know."

"You got it."

"I'll be in touch before we approach."

I changed the setting on my transmitter to only pick up my voice when I pressed the transmit button. I got back in the car and let the warmth envelop me, pushing the cold from my body inch by inch.

"All good?" Frank said.

I nodded. "Think we're looking at five guys. He said three left last night and never returned. Two entered and no one's left since."

"They must shuffle crews in and out. Only a couple core guys stay at the house."

That sounded reasonable, although, with an operation like they had going, the fewer people in the know, the better. All it took was one guy getting caught, and he could rat out the whole organization, like Pablo had.

Two more cars pulled up, carrying a total of eight guys. They parked on either side of us. Everyone got out. The ten of us made our way around the building. I'm sure we were a sight to anyone who passed by. Ten guys dressed in black cargo pants and black thermal shirts, utility belts around our waists. We had radios clipped to our shoulders and wires dangling from our ears. We quickly moved to the back of the building, out of sight. There, I gave a rundown of our plan.

"We're going to make our first move at five. Judging by the cloud cover, it should be dark enough by then."

"Do we want to go that early?" Klein asked.

"I'd prefer to wait till later," I said. "But once the snow starts, it's going to light up the area. We'll be visible from half a block away."

Half the men nodded in agreement. The others stared, anticipation spread across their faces.

"Eight of us are getting off at the end of the street. Thorpe and Lucero, you guys are going to the street behind the house. You'll cut through to the backyard and wait for us to reach the front."

Both men nodded and paired up to my right. They weren't usually partnered together, but I thought they shared an asset that would be beneficial to the operation. Thorpe and Lucero were the shortest in our group, both coming in at under five-seven.

"Harris and McKenzie," I said. "You two are first in and will hit the stairs. Carmichael and Klein, you two will cover them, then to the right. Clear the dining room and kitchen, then meet Thorpe and Lucero."

"Got it," Klein said.

"Reid, Sabatino," I said. "To the left, wrap around. Me and Frank'll be last and it's up in the air whether we'll go upstairs or help downstairs. I'm betting most of the action is going to be downstairs since we are entering so early. If we're lucky, there'll be four of them sitting around the table eating, and one in bed sleeping."

The group chuckled. Things were never that easy. Not for us. Not for anyone.

"We're in vests and helmets. These guys'll be armed. I don't want any casualties."

A hush fell over the group. No one wanted to acknowledge the possibility that someone could die, but every man thought about it.

"We still flying solo?" Reid asked.

"Just us," Frank said. "Local authorities have been warned to stay away. I'm going to update my contact in the Bureau afterward."

A voice chimed into my earpiece and told me that the van would be there in ten minutes.

"OK, van's on the way. Grab your last smoke."

We exited the van half a block away from the house. The angle of the path we took carried us closer and closer to the homes we passed. By the time we reached the fourth house, the last one before the target, we were pressed up against the siding so no one inside the target home could see us.

I reached the corner and lifted my left hand to make a fist. Pressed the transmit button on my gear and said, "You two in position?"

Thorpe answered. "Yeah. From here we can see two in the kitchen, none in the family room."

I looked over my shoulder and scanned the faces of the men behind me. Each man nodded their acknowledgment that they understood.

"Start moving," I said to Thorpe. "First man of ours you see, you burst in." I turned and addressed the men with me. "OK, it's time. Create mass confusion. Disorient them. Only shoot if you feel threatened. I'd rather have broken bones than bullet holes in these guys."

I poked my head around the corner and saw a camera mounted on the side of the house. I had three options. Shoot it, or send someone out to disable it, or ignore it. If I shot it, someone would hear, even though I carried an H&K MP7S equipped with a suppressor. Sending someone out to disable could give them advanced warning that we were approaching. If they were going to get any warning, I'd prefer it to be when all of us were closing in on the house, not a single man sent out like a sacrificial lamb.

I chose to ignore it. Call it a gut feeling, but I reasoned that if two of the men were in the kitchen, they were getting ready to eat. That might be the one time each day that they let their guard down.

"All right, team," I said. "Flip transmissions to on and move."

We crossed the narrow strip of grass between the houses, hunched over and in a tactical formation. Frank and I waited under the camera. The first four through the door crowded on the porch. They knocked the door down and mass confusion began.

Harris and McKenzie rushed inside and Klein and Carmichael quickly dropped into position at the front door, crisscrossing their aim and covering the first two men. Then, they went in and disappeared out of sight. Reid covered them. The sound of gunfire erupted from inside. Muzzle flash lit up the porch. Reid was knocked back five feet and hit the ground. I felt my stomach drop.

"Shit," Frank said.

"Updates," I said.

"Upstairs is clear," Harris said. "We've got one up here."

"We're going in," Thorpe said.

No one else responded.

I rushed to the door and stopped. Frank took position next to me, ready to cover me as I entered. I ducked inside and headed left. The area in front of me was empty. I aimed my weapon into the living room and then down the hall. The living room was clear and Sabatino gave me a thumbs up from the family room. I rose up from a crouching position and looked over the stairs. I saw one man sprawled out on the table, lying on his back. A crimson stain quickly spread across his white t-shirt.

I nodded at Frank. He entered the house, veering to the right. He gestured in the direction of the kitchen, then turned toward me. "It's good, Jack. They've got them kneeling down in the center of the kitchen."

"How many?"

"Four."

Four in the kitchen, one dying on the table, and one upstairs for a total of six men. Pablo had told us the truth.

"I'm going to check on Reid," I said as I walked through the front door. I scanned the area, in case someone had pulled up. Porch lights were on and people poked their heads out of doors and out from behind curtains that covered their front windows.

Reid lay on the ground, wriggling in pain. I bent over and shined a flashlight in his direction. A couple bullets had hit him in the chest, right on top of his heart. If he hadn't been protected by Kevlar, he'd be dead.

"Catch your breath," I said as I loosened his vest. I held out my hand. "Come on, get inside."

I waited for Reid to enter the house, and then followed him in. Harris and McKenzie were leading a man down the stairs. The guy's dark hair stood up in a dozen different directions, but he was more than alert after being jolted awake by trained killers and gunfire.

I went to the right, through the dining room where the man lay dead on the table, having bled out. There was a potted plant on the floor, near the window with a black box next to it. Some kind of watering system, I presumed. I walked into the kitchen, stopped in front of the men kneeling on the floor and aimed my gun at them. "Who's in charge?"

No one spoke.

I kicked one in the stomach. He bent over and fell forward onto his face.

"Who's in charge?" I said again.

A middle-aged guy with a dark full beard lined with gray pointed toward the dining room. "Him."

I looked at Frank, who shook his head.

"Dammit," I said. "OK, Thorpe and Lucero, you two secure these guys. Van's on the way. Load them up quickly once it's here."

"Got it," Thorpe said.

I walked to the other end of the kitchen and into a short hallway with two doors at the end. One led to the garage and one to the basement. I leaned against the first door and heard the sound of children crying. Although I knew this would likely be the scenario, a big part of me still didn't want to believe it, didn't want to face it. I began to reach for the handle, but stopped, deciding to address the group.

"Let's be quick, but gentle. These kids have been through a lot."

No one argued.

I started to turn back toward the door when it flung open and knocked me into the wall at the end of the hall. A barrage of gunfire tore through the small area, riddling Carmichael and Klein with bullets. The men flew backward into the wall. Their bodies were silhouetted by a mixture of each other's blood.

I kicked against the door, but could only get it to move a few inches. I raised my MP7 and aimed it at chest level. I couldn't fire, though. What if this lunatic held one of the kids? I grabbed the top of the door and pulled myself up. Before I reached the top I heard six bursts of three-round fire, telling me that my guys had taken care of the situation. The door moved freely now and I released it and pushed it as far as it would go. On the ground, a pool of blood formed and flowed under the gap between the door and floor. I made my way around and stood in front of the man that had murdered my men. He laid face down, head turned to the side, with his eyes wide open. I lifted my leg and drove the heel of my boot into his face.

"Jack," Frank said. "Let's get the kids before more of these guys show up."

My breathing was erratic and fast and heavy. My heart pounded like a snare drum. "Sabatino, watch the door," I said through labored breathing. I pointed at Harris and McKenzie. "Help us get the kids out."

Although I had braced myself for the worst possible scenario, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I reached the bottom of the basement stairs.

The far end of the basement had been dug out an additional eight feet into the ground, forming what looked to be a fifteen foot square pit, eight feet deep. A dozen kids huddled together in a corner. There were boys and girls. They looked like they ranged from five to twelve years old. All of them trapped like rats.

I'm a hardened man. I'd seen and done a lot in my time since joining the Marines at age eighteen, but that sight sent a rush of bile crawling up my throat. I brought a fist to my mouth, worried I was going to throw up. I didn't. Harris did, though, causing a reaction among the children below.

"Don't hurt us," one of them said.

"We're here to help you," I said. "We're the good guys."

Sobs riddled with fear quickly turned into tears of joy. Even the kids that hadn't been crying were now. I looked around the room and caught sight of the faces of the men I was with. Each man had tears in his eyes. Frank's cheeks were stained wet.

"How do they get you out of there?" I said.

A boy stepped forward. He looked to be the oldest. He had brown hair that hung past his eyebrows. His clothes were dirty and tattered. Hell, all of their clothes were. The boy said, "They use a ladder."