Greg moved stealthily from rock to rock, being careful not to put the lookout in the tall wooden tower on guard. His attention was captured when he thought he saw a familiar form pacing back and forth in front of the gate at the entrance to the compound.
“Oh, no,” he groaned.
“What is it?” Even in a whisper, Grant sounded alarmed in Greg’s ear.
“I know the guard at the fence. He’s not one of them.” He placed his hand over his ear. “Attention all operatives, the guard at the front gate is not one of Rodriguez’s men. Don’t fire on said guard. Repeat, do not fire on guard at the front gate.”
Greg motioned for Grant to move in. Greg’s partner nodded.
Greg placed a tense hand on the large rock in front of him and crouched, ready for action. “Shelby, we are in position.”
“Copy that.” Shelby scanned the computer screen one more time. “All operatives, stand by for countdown to strike. Three… two… one… execute!”
Greg ran for the fence. The helicopter cleared the high rocks behind them, and they felt the rush of wind as it passed overhead. It hovered inside the fence, and the FBI and DEA team members jumped into the compound before the chopper banked and turned back.
Repetitive gunshots began to ring out as Rodriguez’s men realized what was happening. Bullets hit the ground, spraying up dust around the targets’ feet as they took cover.
The men who jumped from the helicopter found cover in the blind spots and held the guards’ attention while Greg and the rest of his team cut their way through the fencing.
“We’re going for Rodriguez!” Greg said over the earpiece. He pointed towards the building by the pool. Grant nodded his understanding. They crossed the space between them and the large structure, covering each other as they went.
Greg pressed his shoulder to the wall and stretched from his kneeling position to see through the window. He caught Grant’s attention and pointed to Rodriguez slinking out of sight in the house.
They crouched down near the pool. “What are you thinking?” Grant asked his partner.
“We go in.” Greg leaned back against the house trying to stay low. “Shelby?”
“Here.”
“Check the live feed. Keep your eyes peeled and tell us if you see anyone who needs help.”
“Got it.”
Grant looked to Greg. “Ready?”
“You bet.”
When they stood, the glass windows above them shattered, showering them with broken shards of glass. Someone had discovered them. Both Greg and Grant crouched down and returned fire.
Greg ducked his head, barely dodging a bullet that hit the wall behind him as Grant shot the one who had fired at his partner. One more down.
A flash of movement caught Grant’s attention, and he turned in time to see one of Rodriguez’s lieutenants running for a tan jeep parked beside a long white building.
Grant caught Greg’s attention. “We can’t let him get away!”
“I’ll cover you!”
More gunshots were heard from within the house. A bullet whizzed by Grant’s ear.
Scanning the area around him, Grant surveyed his surroundings while he waited for his partner to give him the go ahead to jump the man in the jeep.
“Go!” his partner yelled.
Zigzagging as he ran, Grant crossed the compound as the jeep began to move. He shot a glance around to assess what route the jeep could take. Several yards ahead was a ramp it would undoubtedly pass by.
Grant took off. If he could get to it in time, he could jump into the jeep with the lieutenant and overpower him.
Grant timed it so he landed in the seat behind Filipo. Before Filipo could react, Grant wrapped his arm around the other man’s neck, putting a headlock on him.
The jeep stopped abruptly, as Filipo fought to get free. The man was strong and stood as he flipped Grant over the windshield onto the hood of the jeep. Grant rolled off and landed on the ground, smacking his shoulder against the hard earth.
Shelby caught Greg’s attention, “Greg, Grant’s in trouble.”
Greg, who was still pinned near the swimming pool, shot a look in that direction. When he saw Filipo about to drive away, he aimed and shot the back tire on the jeep. “That’ll slow him down. I can’t get over there. I’m pinned down.” Greg saw Grant jump up and grab the man as he tried to leave the jeep.
“Greg, someone is coming out of the house,” Shelby alerted him.
Greg looked toward the end of the house. He saw an unarmed Rodriguez slip out of the house and run behind another building. His anger was beginning to smolder. “You are not getting away that easily!” He ground his teeth in concentration.
A bullet whizzed by his ear, and he winced as he ducked. How could he get over there? Greg turned in the direction where the shot had come from. The shooter looked over the brick facade of the rooftop he was using as a vantage point. Greg took aim. The sniper took one second too long to take cover.
Greg jumped up and ran after Rodriguez. “Shelby, where did he go?”
“Between the buildings in front of you, then take a left.” Shelby’s eyes followed the man she had seen leaving the building. He left the area covered by that camera, and she looked at a different screen. It took a moment to find his exact location in the new monitor, this time facing the camera, not running away from it. “Nelson, he just went through a door that’s coming up on your left.”
Greg started to round the corner when he heard Shelby warn, “He’s coming back out!” Her warning came too late, and the swinging door struck Greg square in the face as Rodriguez fled the building.
Falling back against the ground, Greg pressed the back of his hand to his nose. He was going to get a huge welt on his forehead, and he was aware of the familiar feeling of a broken nose.
Greg set his jaw and glared at the back of the man disappearing around the corner of the building. He jumped up and followed in hot pursuit. As he gained on the bigger man, Greg noticed Rodriguez now held a gun. Greg figured he must have gotten it from the building he had exited moments before.
Rodriguez turned as he heard the pounding of footsteps approach. Greg was no more than ten feet behind him. The drug lord paused to take aim, but Greg bent his head as he dodged the bullet.
Using that momentum to his advantage, Greg turned the duck into a series of flips, heading slightly toward Rodriguez’s left.
The unexpected maneuver bewildered Rodriguez long enough that he couldn’t get a good shot at the moving target.
As Greg came abreast with his opponent, still parallel to the ground, his legs struck the back of Rodriguez’s, forcing his knees to buckle.
Greg seized the moment as Rodriguez fell, and with one hand grabbed the other man’s wrist, grasping the gun with his other.
Shelby watched as the two fought for control over the weapon. Rodriguez rolled, knocking the wind out of Greg’s lungs as the heavier man’s full weight came down on him. Greg’s face was in the dirt as he tried to maneuver out of his opponent’s control. The pressure on his face was nearly unbearable. Rodriguez wrenched Greg’s arm behind his back, but Greg’s wasn’t about to let out the cry of pain he felt rising.
Suddenly, a shot rang out, and Shelby saw the video go black. She picked up the phone and pressed the hold button. “Anne, what just happened to the feed on camera 4D?”
“We’re still connected to it, but it isn’t displaying anymore,” Anne replied quickly. “I think it must have been hit by a stray bullet.”
Shelby ran her finger down the list of cameras while still giving her attention to the activity in the compound.
“Cameras 6B and 7A are turned off, but together they should be able to make up for camera 4D. I’ll activate them, and…” she held that last word for a moment as she glanced at another screen, her eyes widened.
“Anne, get me a connection to cameras number 6B and 7A.” Shelby could hear the clicking of Anne’s mouse and keyboard before she put her phone back on mute.
“Agent Rourke, hold your position,” Connor heard Shelby’s voice alert Grant before she directed him, “Agent Connor, east guard tower.”
Connor turned his attention to where Shelby had indicated. A sniper was setting a high-powered rifle on the railing and placed his eye in front of the scope to aim, ready to take out Agent Rourke as soon as he moved into a better position for a hit. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t know that his back was wide open to Connor on the ground. Conner aimed and squeezed the trigger. He didn’t take time to congratulate himself on the perfect shot he’d made.
Shelby came back over the earpiece, “Rourke, you’re clear to move.” She picked up the phone again. “Talk to me, Anne.”
“It worked.” The new video popped up on Shelby’s screen.
“I see the feed. Thanks.”
Holding the lieutenant by the chain of his cuffs, Grant backed up to the cover of the jeep with one knee making a light impression in the dusty ground.
Glancing over the jeep, Grant caught sight of Agent Garret wrestling with one of the guards on the ground beside the pool. As he started to look away, the guard drew a long knife from a pouch on his belt and raised his arm in the air.
“Rourke, assist Agent Garret,” the words nearly flew out of Shelby’s mouth, but before Grant could react, the guard brought the knife down with all his strength.
Grant cuffed the man he had apprehended to the jeep and rushed in the guard’s direction. The guard was standing up, preparing to run for cover. To Grant’s surprise, Garret turned and stuck his leg out to trip the guard, who turned back on Garret with a vengeance. The two rolled in a tussle and stopped to teeter at the edge of the pool before tumbling in.
The pool wasn’t very deep, but the guard had a grip on Garret’s shoulder and a hand on his head, holding him under the water’s surface. As Grant lunged toward the men in the pool, he noticed blood coloring the area surrounding the wounded FBI Agent.
Catching the guard by surprise, Grant pulled him off of Agent Garret and landed a solid punch to his jaw. The guard faltered, giving Grant enough time to slap cuffs on him.
Agent Garret emerged from the water and slung his head back and forth for a second before assisting Grant in pulling the guard out of the pool.
Grant glanced at Garret and noticed he had been wounded in the left arm.
Dripping wet, Grant shoved the cuffed man toward Agent Garret who took charge of him. “Shelby, where is Greg?”
“He is in the south-east corner of the compound, three buildings in. He’s attempting to apprehend Rodriguez.”
“Tell me how to get to him.”
Out maneuvering Rodriguez despite his pain, Greg was able to get behind him and put a headlock on the man. This time he wasn’t about to let go. Rodriguez struggled, but Greg’s grip was firm.
“Where’s the girl?” Greg’s breath came in gasps, being winded from the fight, and adrenaline pumping through his veins.
“There’s no girl,” came the muffled reply. He tried to pry Greg’s arm from around his neck.
“Don’t lie to me,” Greg growled. “We know you have a girl here.”
Shelby came across the earpiece, “Greg, I don’t see the girl anymore, but the man is still there.”
Greg tried not to panic. “What did you do with the girl?”
“Not- here,” his prisoner insisted. Then, before Greg could react, Rodriguez clasped his hands behind Greg’s elbows, leaned forward, bending his knees, and straightened his legs to flip the agent, slamming Greg’s back into the hard, packed dirt.
The drug lord seized the window of time for his escape and took off towards the back of the compound where there were fewer people around – meaning less chance of his being caught.
As Grant was carefully making his way over to his partner, Shelby’s voice said in his ear, “Grant, Rodriguez got away from Greg. He’s about two buildings over from where you are. Keep going as you are, then make a left.
He’s gone into another unit.”
“Do you have cameras in there?” Grant wanted to know, breathing hard from the intensity of the moment. “One.”
“Get me in there,” he ordered.
“Round the building you’re passing now. There’s a door all the way at the other end that you’re going to take,” she calmly fed him the needed information.
As his fingers grasped the door handle, Shelby told him, “Once inside, there will be a door to your right. If there isn’t an exit or another room, he’ll be in there. I’m sorry, but there isn’t a video camera in that area.”
Grant nodded, knowing Shelby could see him, and not wanting to tip off Rodriguez of his presence. He tightened his hold on his third-generation Glock, then pushed the door open.
The room he entered was empty, except for a stack of boxes and a plastic folding table. Treading softly across the room, Grant’s senses were on high alert.
A shuffling noise came from behind the closed door that Shelby had told him Rodriguez had gone through.
Grant kicked the door in and dashed to the side, prepared for bullets to fly. Instead of bullets, a flying knife scarcely missed his face and was embedded in one of the boxes stacked behind him.
Ducking, Grant squeezed off a shot, hitting Rodriguez high on his shoulder. The man let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees on the floor.
Dashing across the room, Grant reached for his cuffs. He grabbed Rodriguez’s arms and brought them behind the man’s back before pulling him to a standing position.
As he made his way through the maze of buildings, Grant spotted Greg approaching him.
Grant saw pain in the lines of his partner’s face. “Hey, partner, you all right?”
“I’ll live.” Greg’s smile was more of a grimace.
Grant smirked.
While Grant had been busy apprehending
Rodriguez, the reports of gunfire had slowly waned until all was quiet. Greg put his hand to his earpiece. “Status report.”
Each of the team members identified themselves as they gave their number and cleared themselves.
Grant was the last to report in. “Sam 52. We are clear.”
Greg and Grant’s eyes met. The compound was contained, and Guillermo Rodriguez was finally in their custody.
