The Key To Micah's Heart (Hell Yeah!) (24 page)

I thought Fidel Castro was Cuban?

But Micah didn’t respond. She picked up Thunderpunch and squeezed him tight. The cat seemed to pick up on Madison’s distress and allowed himself to be held. Madison prayed for Micah’s safety. When he returned home, she vowed she’d lock him in her heart and throw away the key. 

The A Team rides again…

The warehouse was dusty and hot. It’d been a packaging warehouse for fruit for many years, but had long ago been abandoned when the cartels moved into town and ran the owner out with threats.

Everyone crowded around a small table.

“I hate to say it,” Kyle started, “but due to time constraints and limited intel on the property, this is gonna be a pretty basic operation. We’re just gonna load up a few vans, drive in there and take out whoever we need to until we find Sofia.”

Micah oiled a Walther PPK in his hand. “So, this is just like all our other missions,” he joked.

“Not quite. One van will drive up to the front of the building and try to cause a diversion. Meanwhile, the other will drive around back under the guise of being a liquor delivery van. When the van out front causes a commotion, the group around back will spring into action. Their goal is to secure the rear of the club and begin a search. The van out front is going to serve as a distraction. If you need to start firing off rounds, go ahead. We need you to draw out as many enemies as possible and keep them busy so we can sweep the building and retrieve the target.”

Noah McCoy was still on the razor’s edge emotionally. Kyle considered asking him to stay behind, but he knew Noah would never go for it.

Noah looked at his watch; the sun had just disappeared from the sky for the night. “When are we going?”

Kyle knew he wasn’t going to like the response he gave, but then again, Kyle was used to telling people things they didn’t want to hear. “Four a.m.” He could see Noah starting to bubble up. McCoy wanted to go right away. “I know you don’t want to wait, Noah. But it’s the best thing to do.”

“A liquor delivery at four in the morning?” Jacob questioned.

“I know.” Kyle folded his arms over his broad chest. “It might not fly, but we need some sort of cover and it’s better than driving into the back lot and just sitting there.”

“Why are we waiting so long?” Noah demanded to know.

Micah took over for Kyle. “The best thing for us to do right now is wait. We let the bad guys who want to get drunk tonight, get drunk. We let them get drunk and we let them get tired. We wait until they let their guard down, then we hit them head on with all the force we can muster. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather burst in on a bad guy who’s half in the bag, than one who’s holding a gun, ready for anything.” He looked Noah right in the eye. “I know you don’t want to wait, McCoy, but it’s the best thing we can do for us and for your mother.”

The hours passed by agonizingly slow. Kyle went over what they knew of the building and the men who held Sofia, which wasn’t much.

Jet had dozed off in the van he was going to be driving.

Isaac and Jacob McCoy sat with their brother, offering as much comfort and support as they could, reassuring him that Kyle knew what he was doing and that Sofia would make it out alive.

“We’re going to have lots and lots of family dinners with your mom,” Isaac told him.

“I know,” Noah sighed. “I know. I just feel helpless.”

“Angel Rubio has the hand of God on her, Noah,” Mateo assured him. “He will take care of her.”

With that solemn observation, they all quieted down while the clock ticked.

An hour later, Micah shook Jet’s boot. “Time to go, big fella.”

The time had arrived. The vans were loaded with their equipment and everyone except the drivers were suited up in black clothing from head to toe. The group looked like a Special Forces unit straight out of a movie and Kyle hoped their appearance would scare some of the bad guys into surrendering right away.

They drove in silence. Jet behind the wheel of one van, Isaac McCoy behind the wheel of the other. When they reached a designated spot a mile from the Hidalgo Club, the vans split up. Isaac took the street leading right to the club’s front door, while Jet circled around behind to a small back lot where supplies for the club would be unloaded.

Kyle picked up his walkie-talkie. “You guys ready to rock and roll?”

“Ready as we’re ever going to be,” Jacob responded.

“I’ve got a crazy idea,” Micah said before pulling a black ski mask down over his face. “How about some time we come back to Mexico for a vacation, instead of always getting shot at?”

Isaac McCoy pulled the van slowly down the middle of the road. On the sidewalks to either side of him, drunk partygoers staggered home from a long night of drinking and cavorting. “The party never stops in Juarez, does it,” he said to himself.

The neon Club Hidalgo sign had been turned off for the night and a rough group of men stood on the front curb, passing a bottle of liquor back and forth between them while they smoked. Isaac pressed the brake pedal and stopped about forty yards from the building. Immediately the men on the sidewalk took notice of the van.

“Looks like we’ve been spotted, boys,” Isaac said through the curtain that shielded the back of the van from view.

Jacob McCoy lifted the walkie-talkie to his lips. “We’re in position.”

“Let’s move out,” Kyle instructed Jet from the back of the other van.

Micah, Saxon, Santiago and Tanner were in the back of the van with Kyle as Jet pulled it around the back of Club Hidalgo and backed it up to the loading door.

“Looks like we’re about to have company,” Isaac said as two men stepped off the curb and approached the van. “And not the friendly kind either.” The approaching men had drawn guns from beneath their jackets.

Noah, Mateo, Jacob and Bowie steeled themselves in the back. The back doors had been welded shut, if the approaching men wanted in, the only way was to come through the side doors and the troops inside were waiting for them.

The loud beeping of Jet’s reversing van caught the attention of the men inside Club Hidalgo. A squat man with a thick black moustache came out from behind a gray steel door and looked at the van. Jet eyed him in his side mirror. The man rubbed his eyes and fastened his belt as he approached.

Jet smiled. “So sorry, amigo. Did I wake you up?”

The man came to Jet’s door and they exchanged words in Spanish.

In the back of the van, adrenaline pumped through everyone’s veins. The silence was maddening, but they’d all been in situations like this and the thunder of their hearts beating in their ears made the men feel alive.

Jet exited the van and came around to the rear. When he opened one of the back doors, Saxon leaned forward, snatched the Mexican man by the shirt and yanked him into the van. Micah stepped in next to the surprised gentleman who now lay flat on his back on the floor with a knife to his throat. “Where is Angel Rubio being held?” Micah asked in a threatening tone.

The man answered in Spanish, telling them he didn’t know what they were talking about.

Micah pressed the knife harder against the man’s throat and asked again.

This time the man told the truth. The woman was tied up in the basement of the club, along with several other young women.

Out front, Isaac McCoy tipped his hat when the approaching men came to his open window. “Fellas. How are you?” They responded in Spanish. “No habla Espanol.”

“What are you doing here?” The man now asked in English. He had nicotine stained teeth and acne scars on his cheeks.

“Just out for a drive. It’s a nice night.” Isaac pointed up to the stars.

The man peered into the van suspiciously while his partner went around to the passenger side.

Around back, Kyle and the rest of his crew had moved into position at the rear entrance to Club Hidalgo. Once Jacob McCoy gave the signal, they would be good to go.

“What’s taking so long?” Saxon asked as they waited.

On the other side of the club, a gun was being thrust into Isaac’s face. “Open the side doors!”

Isaac raised his hands. “Easy partner. No need for that.” There was a nine millimeter taped to the door beside him in case there was trouble, but it was going to be hard to get to it in time when he was staring down the barrel of a Smith and Wesson.

Isaac’s companions in the back could hear everything. Their guns were already locked, loaded and trained on the side door of the van. Kyle had been very specific with his instruction before they left the warehouse.
Shoot first, ask questions later.

And that’s exactly what Jacob McCoy did when the van door burst open. His shot hit the intruder in the shoulder and knocked him off of his feet. Isaac reached out his window the second he heard the shot and pushed the gun in his face away. With his other hand, he pushed open the door, the force sending the man outside his door reeling back and to the ground.

“I’d say that’s our signal,” Jet muttered as he yanked the door to the back of Club Hidalgo wide open. Santiago and Tanner moved in first, crouched down. They stayed tight to the wall and laid low, quietly taking out a club employee who’d been walking down the hallway when they came in.

Noah, Jacob and Bowie spilled out the side of the van and fanned out across the street, finding shelter behind cars. Isaac stomped on the accelerator and pulled in closer to Club Hidalgo. The shot fired had drawn the attention of everyone still inside and they poured out onto the curb with guns drawn. Isaac positioned the van sideways so the side doors were shielded and got out to join in the firefight. Their orders had been to cause a diversion for as long as possible, not to try to win a gun battle.

“The minute you start to lose ground,” Kyle had told them. “You get in that van and get the hell out of Dodge. Head for the rendezvous point, we’ll meet you there.”

The crew inside moved room by room, clearing the top floor before venturing down to the basement.

“By God,” Micah whispered. “Those sons of bitches sure did a good job with the diversion. There’s nobody in here.” Just as he said that, a man appeared from around the corner and started to fire on him and Kyle. “Spoke too soon.”

Jet heard the commotion and tackled the guy from behind.

On the street, Noah McCoy emptied the first clip of his gun, then sat back against the car he was behind to slide in a new clip. He’d begged Kyle to let him be a part of the team that went in after Sofia, but Kyle had been firm in not allowing it. The glass broke above Noah’s head. “Dammit!” He wanted to be inside. He stood from his safe spot and ran down the sidewalk towards the side of Club Hidalgo.

Jacob watched helplessly from across the street. “Noah! No!” He knew exactly what his brother was doing and all Jacob could do was lay down cover fire to help his brother get to where he was headed. At least Noah wasn’t alone, Mateo shadowed every move Noah made.

Kyle led Micah, Saxon and Santiago down into the basement of the club while the others stayed upstairs to protect their backs. The basement floor of Club Hidalgo was dirt. A long corridor lit by only one set of fluorescents seemed to stretch on forever and at least eight doors needed to be opened to look for Sofia. They moved systematically down the hall, trying doors as they went, but when they reached the last door, they still hadn’t located her.

Micah tried the last door. “It’s locked.” Saxon appeared at his side with a crowbar and pried it open. “Thanks, MacGyver. Do you carry that tool in your back pocket?” The door came open with a squeak of protest.

“Actually, I do. It folds,” Saxon threw back.

The room was barren except for a set of shelves against the far wall and a carpet in the middle of the floor.

“That’s the last room.” Santiago yelled. “Where the fuck is she?”

Micah’s mind went into overdrive. “Something isn’t right.” He scanned the room.

“The fucking guy lied,” Santiago said. “Let’s go.”

Micah stopped him with a hand. “No.” He squatted down and pulled the carpet aside.

A steel trapdoor was built into the floor. A padlock held the door shut. “Go for it, Saxon.” Again, Saxon used his trusty crowbar to pry off the lock.

Noah McCoy made it around to the back of Club Hidalgo. Some of the bad guys from out front had come back in to join the battle inside. Jet and Tanner were fending off the opposing forces when Noah and Mateo came in through the back door.

“Where are they?” Noah demanded to know when he came up to join his friends.

Jet turned to see him. “Jesus Christ McCoy. You’re hit.”

Noah noticed the blood on his shoulder. He undid his sweater and pulled his sleeve down. “I’m fine.”

Jet checked the wound. “You’ll live, but it’s anything but fine.”

Noah stepped to one side as Mateo fired a couple rounds back at their enemies. “Where are they?” Noah asked.

Jet pointed to the stairs that led to the basement and Noah was off before Jet could stop him.

Mateo trailed Noah as he flew down the stairs with reckless abandon. “Mom!” His gun dropped at his side, Noah ran down the hall, checking inside each room as he went.

Santiago heard him coming first. He stepped out of the final room and called out. “Down here.”

Noah ran as fast as he could toward his friend. When he and Mateo rounded the corner and came into the room he saw her. Sofia and three other women had been rescued from the dark dungeon below the floor.