Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2), page 27
“Did you find Boggess, Andrews, or Cummings?”
He hesitated. “Not Boggess or Andrews. I’m guessing they’re both long gone. We found Cummings hooked up to a whole mess of machines that were keeping her body functioning. Both her kidneys are gone, as is her liver. The medical examiner unplugged her last night. He said she was already gone.”
Her eyes slid shut as her chest tightened. While she’d known the chances of bringing any of them home alive were slim, she’d hoped that at least one might get to see family again.
“What about this… Tio? And the rest of the guys in the boat?” Her mind flashed to Mitch. Was he in FBI custody right now?
“Coast Guard couldn’t locate them. My guess is that they pulled off somewhere nearby and are lying low until they can get out of the area.”
Seemed logical. Tio and his gang hadn’t gotten this far by being careless. “Mitch was there. He’s in on it.”
It should hurt to admit that, but somehow it didn’t. Maybe because she didn’t really know him, maybe because she’d had time to adjust to the idea.
“I suspected.” Dak covered her hand with his and leaned in. “How are you doing with that?”
She quirked a smile. “I thought I was the therapist in the room.”
He didn’t return her smile. “I’m not a therapist. I’m your friend.”
A sigh slid out. “I don’t know how I feel. Not as upset as I was when I first found out, but it could be shock.”
“It could be. Don’t shut me out, okay? If you need to talk to someone, you know I’m here. Or use the Bureau’s psychologist. Just talk to someone.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t suffer a mental break. Not over him.” She grinned again, but he still wasn’t amused.
“The Coast Guard has boats combing the shoreline, but there are a lot of cabin cruisers around. Without probable cause, they can’t board.”
“Gypsy’s Chance.” The words popped into her head. In her hurry to escape last night, she didn’t even realize she’d caught the boat’s name, but it floated in her head as smoothly as the boat had floated in the water. “The boat’s name. Gypsy’s Chance.”
He pulled out his phone. “That’ll help.”
“Well, well. Looking good this morning, I see.” A man in a white coat appeared in the doorway behind Dak.
Dak rose, pointing at his phone and stepping into the hallway.
While she answered basic questions about how she was feeling, the doctor checked her vitals.
“That didn’t come from the hospital cafeteria.” He nodded at the half-eaten danish and sugar-laden coffee sitting beside her bed. “Your boyfriend must have brought them.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Thank goodness Dak hadn’t been in the room to hear that. “Just a friend.”
“Oh, my mistake.” The doctor ducked his head slightly. “You looked so cozy when I came in that I assumed.”
Cozy? How did two FBI agents discussing an organ trafficking ring look cozy?
Time for a change of subject. “So this foot. How long will it take to heal?”
The doctor pulled back the sheet to reveal her bruised and swollen foot. A fresh layer of gauze kept her from seeing the stitches and full extent of the damage, but the toes looked like miniature plums, the color extending to both sides of the bandage.
“At least six weeks. Maybe longer. There was considerable trauma.”
Something about the way he said it didn’t feel right. Her mouth cottoned and pain shot behind her eyes. “But… it will heal, right? No permanent damage?”
“Most likely it will heal fine. Provided you wear the walking boot and try to stay off your foot as much as possible.” He gently tucked the blanket back around her foot. “You never can say for certain when it comes to trauma.”
She looked up to find Dak leaning against the door, sympathy written across his features.
“Good news, though.” The doctor’s voice drew her attention back. “I think you’re ready to go home.”
“Great. I’m ready to get out of here.” But she was only going home long enough to clean up and put on fresh clothes. After that, she’d be headed to the office.
Tio, Mitch, and the rest of the crew were still out there.
They had to be stopped. Before anyone else died.
₪ ₪ ₪
Dak glanced up at Kevyn for at least the fifth time in the past hour.
She looked tired. After what she’d been through, she should be home, not sitting at her desk, but there’d been no dissuading her.
“You’ll get more work done if you stop checking on me every five minutes.” She slid amused eyes up to him.
“I really think you should be resting.”
“I am.” She pointed beneath her desk. “I’m resting my foot on top of the rubbish bin.”
Propping her foot up on a trash can was hardly taking it easy. “That’s not what I meant.”
A deep sigh slid from her. “I’ll rest when we catch these guys.”
Dak’s phone rang, ending further conversation. Not that this conversation was over. He still hoped he could convince her to take care of herself.
Sid’s number displayed on the ID.
His breath caught. Sid was on surveillance duty right now. Maybe something had happened. “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“There’s a freighter. Docked behind the warehouse. Looks like things are being loaded inside.” Excitement tinged Sid’s words.
Sid was watching the original warehouse, not the one they’d raided the night before. “Can you see what they’re loading?”
“Most of it’s in crates, but I did see what looks like a conveyer belt.”
If they were loading up basics like a conveyer belt, then they were clearing out. And, it appeared, using the freighter to do it. “I’ll get a team together and notify the Coast Guard. Keep on them.”
He ended the call and looked up to find Kevyn’s gaze locked on him. While she didn’t say a word, the questions were written across her face.
“I think we’ve got them.”
She pushed back in her chair and wobbled to her feet. “I’m coming. Don’t even try to stop me.”
It was a losing battle, one he didn’t have time to fight. “Fine. But you’re staying in the van until the scene is secured.”
Twenty-Three
The SWAT team moved with panther-like stealth.
A few FBI agents on loan from other departments cleared the remaining civilians from the surrounding area as his team followed the SWAT officers, led by Caiden and Pete, toward the warehouse.
They snaked down both sides of the building, heading for the back, where a freighter sat beside the dock.
“In position.” Caiden, who stood in front of him, whispered over the com.
Caiden positioned a microscopic camera at the corner and focused on a tablet held by another SWAT officer.
The camera revealed an open loading door. Two men, carrying a large crate, came out. They walked across a wide gangplank and took the crate topside. Two more men came out, carrying a similar crate, followed by another man, carrying a midsized box.
Okay, at least five men. Good news was that if they were carrying boxes, they couldn’t also be holding guns.
The bad news was that he couldn’t see inside the warehouse to see if there were guards waiting to ambush them.
“In position.”
He started as Pete’s voice came over his com. The other side was ready to go. Waiting on their order.
Caiden stared at the tablet for a moment before replying. “Hold your position.”
They waited for what seemed like ages before the first two men, then the other three, exited the ship and reentered the warehouse.
“Move, move, move!”
The group surged forward, shouts of SWAT and FBI shattering the stillness.
While most of the SWAT officers and all of his team entered the warehouse, Dak and Caiden broke off to board the freighter.
Dak swung left, then right. No one was on deck.
Inside the cabin, a lone figure leaned over the controls.
How had he not heard them?
As they drew closer, Dak heard loud country music emanating from the cabin. Well, okay. That explained a lot.
The man looked up and did a double take, then quickly lifted his hands.
From behind him, several gunshots echoed. Chaos erupted over his com and he clicked it off.
Caiden threw open the cabin door and they both slid inside.
The man hadn’t moved. He stared at them with wide eyes and parted lips.
Dak clicked off the radio. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
A few more gunshots echoed from the warehouse.
What was going on in there? Had the team met with more resistance than they could handle?
He didn’t take his eyes off the man as he addressed Caiden. “Cover me.”
Holstering his gun, he moved in and frisked the man, recovering a small knife, but no other weapons.
He slapped one end of the handcuffs around the man’s wrist, pulled him outside, and handcuffed him to the metal railing surrounding the deck.
Without checking to see if Caiden followed, he turned and hurried back to the warehouse, which had grown ominously silent.
He paused outside the door, then peered inside. Caiden pulled up beside him as he surveyed the interior.
A group of men knelt on the floor, hands behind their heads. Another man, not one of theirs, lay facedown in a pool of blood.
No obvious injuries among the FBI or SWAT officers present.
Thank you, God.
He caught Sid’s eye. “You got this?”
A nod responded. He turned and strode back on board the boat.
The man he’d handcuffed stood in the exact place and position he’d left him.
The man, probably in his fifties, wore a tattered baseball cap and had a pencil thin mustache. He stood several inches shorter than Dak, probably around 5’9” or 5’10”, and had a solid build.
“Look, I didn’t do nothing. I’m just the captain.” The man held out his hands as much as the cuffs would allow him. “Whatever’s goin’ on here, I had nothin’ to do with it. Neither did my crew. We were hired to pick up a load. That’s it.”
The words carried a hint of panic and a ring of authenticity.
Could he believe the captain?
Lord?
He felt a peace in his core. Still needed to get more information, but his instincts said the man was telling the truth.
“Who hired you?”
“HM Imports and Exports. Said they were moving their operation to Mexico ‘cause it was cheaper. I’m paid to captain, not ask lotsa questions.”
Mexico.
If Tio and his crew got into international waters, they’d have zero jurisdiction.
“Did he tell you where in Mexico?”
The man whipped his head from side to side. “Nah, man. Said he had some business to take care of, but he’d meet up with us. We’re supposed to meet him in ‘bout an hour.”
An hour. That’d give them enough time to set a trap.
“Have you ever met this man before?”
“No. I’ve moved a few loads for them, but never met the guy in charge.”
He felt like the captain told the truth.
Besides, if they wanted to catch Tio and his crew, they didn’t have a lot of options.
“I need to see your ID.”
The captain jerked his head toward the cabin. “In there. The cabinet by the steering wheel.”
Dak headed for the cabin. He’d radio in the captain’s identity and have the analysts check out his story.
In the meantime, they needed to head to the rendezvous point.
Only instead of the captain’s crew, the boat would be run by FBI agents.
They were close to catching Tio, Mitch, and the rest of these guys. He could feel it.
As long as the captain didn’t do anything to tip Tio and his men off. If he did, things wouldn’t end well.
₪ ₪ ₪
The wind whipped around her, pulling at the worn and weathered windbreaker she’d donned in an effort to look like she belonged on a cargo ship. The rest of her team, plus the half dozen other agents assisting them, all wore similar attire.
Kevyn pushed back a few strands of hair that had escaped her bun and stared through the binoculars.
A cabin cruiser appeared to be approaching them. It was still too far away for her to see the name, but she was betting the hull said Gypsy’s Chance.
“Incoming.”
Her announcement threw everyone into activity.
Dak waved his arm toward the cabin. “Everyone in position. We wait until they’re on board to make the arrests.”
He tossed a rope ladder over the side before following Kevyn into the cabin.
Several agents remained outside, toward the back of the boat. If Tio and his crew didn’t find some people on deck, working, they’d probably be suspicious.
Tension rippled through the air.
She hoped, even prayed, that the men on the boat wouldn’t fight back.
Because no matter what she told Dak, she was far from being in top form.
Her hips already ached from limping around with the walking boot. If she moved wrong, pain radiated up her core, too. Whether from the cracked rib or simply general trauma from hitting the ground, she wasn’t certain.
Either way, going into a gunfight in this condition could end badly for more people than just her.
She should stand down. Now, before someone got hurt.
“Dak.” She hissed his name so as not to draw extra attention.
He leaned in, but didn’t speak.
“I…” Man, it hurt to say this. “I think it’s best if I sit this out.”
A slow smile spread as he sagged back against the wall behind him. “Phew. I was dreading ordering you to do that.”
She grinned, even though she didn’t feel at all happy about it. “Problem solved.”
He nodded at the ladder leading downstairs. “Head below deck. That way I won’t have to worry about you getting caught in the middle.”
Turning, she trudged across the cabin to the steep stairs, or ladder, leading below deck.
As much as she hated to feel like dead weight, if she didn’t sit this one out, someone on her team might actually end up dead.
₪ ₪ ₪
Dak breathed a prayer of thanks as Kevyn carefully navigated the steep descent below deck.
Something told him this Tio character would not go quietly. He couldn’t be watching Kevyn – or wondering if she was physically capable of having his back – if this came to blows.
“They’re about to board,” the captain muttered, his voice tight.
“JD, you’re up.”
Tio, Mitch, and the rest of the crew hadn’t seen JD before, so they couldn’t recognize him. From a distance, JD was about the same size and coloring as the captain, so if Tio knew what the captain looked like, JD could reasonably pass for him until they got too close.
The captain crouched down beside the wheel and JD stepped in.
Dak pulled his baseball cap a little lower.
He didn’t know how many, if any, of Tio’s men might have seen him, but he couldn’t take the chance someone would recognize him.
Like Mitch.
A head appeared at the ladder.
Not someone he recognized, but judging by the size of the man, he was part of the group’s muscle. With bulging biceps and a thick neck, the man’s eyes shifted from one end of the deck to the other. Evidently satisfied, he climbed over the railing and landed solidly on deck.
Another man boarded, also someone he didn’t recognize, also built solidly.
Both men held guns.
The third man was about the same height, but had a leaner build. From the way the other two men snapped to attention, he guessed this guy was in charge.
Tio.
He studied the man under lowered eyes. The build looked about right for the picture Kevyn had sent.
Another face appeared.
Mitch Taylor.
Dak turned slightly so he wasn’t facing head on, and pretended to be messing with instruments.
The four men approached the cabin, the man he guessed to be Tio taking the lead.
No one else appeared at the ladder.
Either this was the extent of the men on board the boat or the others were waiting to board.
He didn’t like that idea. Not one bit.
If the takedown didn’t go smoothly, reinforcements could take them by surprise.
He glanced out the back window of the cabin and caught Sid’s eye, giving a slight nod.
The team whipped into action.
“FBI!”
“Drop the weapons!”
“On the ground!”
The shouts echoed around the cabin.
Dak and JD both trained their weapons on the men outside.
The two thugs raised their guns and fired several shots. The glass windows shattered, raining shards down on the ship’s wheel.
Dak ducked down, using the instrument panel to shield most of his body. Out of his peripheral, he sensed JD doing the same.
A chorus of gunshots responded.
One of the thugs went down. The other dropped his gun and clutched his shoulder. Blood oozed between his fingers.
Mitch had already dropped to the deck and lay face down, hands covering his head.
Tio stood still, eyes darting toward the ladder only about ten feet away.
Dak sighted on him. “Don’t do it, Tio!”
The man started at the sound of his name.
“Down. Now. Or I will put you down by force.”
Part of him hoped Tio would resist. After what this jerk had done to Kevyn, it would be fitting.
Tio’s face flushed a dark crimson. He hesitated only a second before slowly lowering himself to the deck.
