“The loading door of the church is rising,” Charlie continued. “I don’t see anyone, but it’s evident that York is speaking to someone on the inside.”
Probably Miller, Sin thought, or maybe the mysterious Marilyn.
“York is opening the rear of the truck.” Charlie was talking faster as his excitement grew. “He’s waving his gun and it looks like he is saying something to whoever is in—”
“What’s wrong?” Sin asked.
“Six girls, all in cuffs and shackles are being led off the truck into the church.” Charlie’s words were choked with anger. “Wait, there is one more coming out. She . . .” Charlie stopped and stared at the screen in disbelief. “She is dressed in what looks like a wedding dress.”
“That’s got to be Tia,” Sin huffed.
“The driver is getting back in the truck and pulling away from the dock,” Charlie said. “No sign of York. He must still be in the church.”
“Garcia, if the truck pulls out and heads north take out the tires and the driver, if it turns south, I’ll do the same,” Sin radioed. “Diner crew, get ready to act.”
“Ten-four.”
The truck turned south, back towards Tumbleboat.
A half mile up the road, Garcia radioed that had the vehicle in his site, and with quick trigger pulls, both of the right side tires blew out in succession. He followed the driver as he got out to check the damage. It was the last thing the driver would ever do.
“Target extinguished,” Garcia radioed.
Charlie radioed the diner crew to make a pick up.
Sin was getting antsy and eyed her watch. Twelve fifteen. “It’s getting late.” She sounded nervous. “If they start early, those girls are going to be tortured or worse. We can’t wait any longer.”
“Easy, Agent,” Charlie responded. “They broadcast live, so the ‘show’ won’t begin until one a.m.”
“I don’t give a damn.” Sin punctuated each word for emphasis. “I’m not taking any chances with the lives of these girls.”
“I hate to interrupt your rant,” Garcia said, “but the guard at the front gate is packing up and leaving.”
“No need to dispose of this one, Sinclair,” Charlie said, “He’s just a rent-a-cop.”
“Ten-four.”
“I have a white Ford F150 turning north toward Marathon,” Garcia said. “This one is all yours, boss lady.”
Sin aimed her rifle toward the north. “I’m on it. I’ll wait until he pulls off U.S. 1 before I disable him.”
A few minutes later, the truck was on the side of the road with its hazard lights blinking. A blown tire.
“Bird’s wings are clipped,” Sin radioed.
“I’ll send the diner crew to assist,” Charlie responded.
“It’s go time,” Sin radioed. “Charlie radio Fletcher to start moving in.”
“I already did,” Charlie answered. “His crew has rowed up to the wall and is awaiting instructions.”
“Open the mics so they can hear my transmission,” Sin said.
“Done,” Charlie responded.
“Fletcher, I want you and your men on top of the wall and ready to move,” Sin said.
“Moving,” Fletcher responded. “Let’s stop fucking around and get these bastards.”
Sin took a deep breath. “Stay calm, Fletch. This isn’t the jungle of Central America. We stick to the plan.
“On my mark, Garcia, Sin stated, “we take out the gunners first. I’ll count down from five—five, four, three, two, mark.”
Garcia and Sin fired, taking out both gunners in the blink of an eye.
“I have a guard in the front bringing his hand to his mic,” Charlie said.
Another shot rang out.
“Not anymore,” Sin said.
Two more shots echoed as Garcia took out two more of the security force.
“Move it, Fletch,” Sin said. “We rendezvous at point B in five minutes. Garcia, I need you to stay put and sweep up any trash.”
“We’re on the move,” Fletcher answered.
“Gotcha,” Garcia radioed.
46
“Charlie, any new action?” Sin asked.
“Negative, everything is quiet on the outside. All targets on the perimeter have been neutralized.”
Sin eyed the four people crouched around her. All their faces were blacked out, but their eyes said, ‘go.’ Her eyes were in constant motion from one person to the next. “We’ve gone over the previous knowledge of the layout of the studio. Fletcher and I need a ten minute leeway to get in position.” Her eyes stopped on Wilson. “At the ten minute mark, you and Hobson are to blow the front and rear entrances of the church. You are only a decoy, do not engage the enemy unless they engage first. If they do, put them down. Is that understood?”
The men nodded.
She checked her watch. “It’s twelve minutes till show time,” Sin said.
“I’ll lose your visual when you enter the building,” Charlie radioed, “but I’ll still get your audio feed. I’m counting on you to give their viewers something special to watch.”
Sin and Fletcher entered through the same window she’d used the first time she’d broken into the church. Upon ingress, they drew their weapons as they made their way toward the studio.
Making her way, she stepped in something sticky. That’s when she smelled the acrid odor of blood. Shining a penlight toward the floor, she saw a partial footprint. She and Fletcher followed the prints with their eyes, but it wasn’t even necessary. The smell would have taken them to the same destination―Heap’s office. Sin tried the door and surprisingly found it unlocked. Stepping into the office the smell burned her nostrils.
Definitely blood.
“Damn,” Fletcher mouthed with his nose buried in his shirtsleeve.
Sin shined her light about the room and discovered its origin—Heap’s bloodied, dead corpse.
She slumped against the door frame. Everything she thought so clear and true of Heap just became muddied. “We have a problem,” Sin radioed. “Heap has been murdered.” She waited for answer but none came. “Everything we thought was true about this mission just got a bit more screwed up.”
Charlie answered with a steady, calm voice. “Ten-four. It doesn’t change this mission—proceed as directed.”
Sin and Fletcher made their way to the studio and spotted two guards outside the double doors. Both carrying Glock 18s—automatic weapons.
They stayed hidden and waited. They
