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The lights are still off when I first strike the heavy bag in the back corner. Hit after hit slams into the leather until sweat drips from my nose and my shoulders beg for mercy.
Still not done purging my rage, I add kicks to the assault until my lungs threaten to explode in my chest. My legs eventually give out, and I fall against the bag, embracing it as my body slides to the floor. I end up on all fours, sucking wind until I drop my head to the mat. She’s giving up.
One of the massive metal doors slams open a while later, but I don’t even lift my head to see who entered.
“The fuck?”
Knot’s outraged voice sounds in my office just before he walks back out and yells into the empty room. “Madden!”
The concern in his voice drags me from the floor, though I don’t know how I make it to my feet. Knot catches the movement and stomps in my direction as I pull off the gloves. “I’ve been calling your ass for an hour. I was about to drive to your house when I saw your car outside.”
Despite my body’s fatigue, I straighten. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got a problem.”
Knot spins on his heel and thunders from the room, issuing a silent command to follow. Ordering Piper to stay, I trail the boss to the tactical operation support office without knowing why we’re going there. Knot places his hand on a scanner beside the door and shoves inside. The TacOS are in an uproar, filling my gut with lead.
I follow the CEO to the conference table in front of the extensive collection of screens used by the tactical operations specialists. Displayed there are satellite images, topo graphics, and thermal signatures—all things I would expect to see here. The maps are of a remote area of Mexico just south of the border in central Texas. This must concern Jalen Jones and Mac Hurts's crew. I know about their team’s mission in broad terms, but that’s about it.
Uncle Sam learned about a new fentanyl processing factory and wanted it gone. US troops couldn’t be sent to the neighboring nation without a fuck-ton of diplomatic bullshit. But our people could.
Regarding the rest of the details, I think I’m about to get a crash course. “What am I looking at?” I ask Knot after he reads a note handed to him by one of the TacOS.
“An intel fuckup of epic proportions.”
“Birdie?”
Knot shakes his head. “No. This is on the Pentagon. The fentanyl factory was located fourteen miles outside the city of Manuel Benavides in Chihuahua. Birdie expressed concern about a sparse collection of about fifty houses four miles from the factory that wasn’t included in the briefing.
“The Pentagon subsequently identified these as housing for permanent residents of the city. Birdie tried to verify ownership records against known cartel members, but we’re not talking about a thriving metropolis with digital records.
“Ultimately, we could only rely on provided intel and decided to proceed with caution. We selected an infil and exfil location on the opposite side of the mountain from the neighborhood. Unfortunately, it turned out the Pentagon was wrong, and our chosen spot wasn’t remote enough. The area is inhabited by enough cartel members that when the explosion went off, two groups of them responded.
“One group met our team south of the mountain. Jones reported minor injuries and that his team was able to make the cartel’s men retreat. Jones turned north and was met by another group at the mountain pass. That’s when we lost contact with them. That was fifty minutes ago.”
Pointing to the red dots on the screen, I ask, “Any movement?”
Knot scrubs a hand over his face. “They’re still on the move but not very fast. The second attack must have been bad. When I last spoke to Jones, he told me to track his location to a break in the steep canyon on the shore of the Rio Grande.”
One of the TacOS zooms in on the area and highlights a point on the map. The river at that opening spans a width of over two hundred feet. I don’t like what I’m seeing. “There’s nowhere for a bird to land, and no way they can cross that much river if they have injuries.”
“I know,” he admits. “That’s why I’m sending you. These bastards aren’t going to let our guys go. Jones will have to hike the canyon just to keep out of reach. The nearest clearing big enough for a bird to land is eight miles downriver. They won’t make it. You’ll have to lead a rescue mission. First and foremost, take out the threat, then get these guys home.”
My mind goes to Marisol. I want to go to Puerto Rico and drag her ass out, but at least she’s not in any immediate danger. She’ll be safe in her father’s house. Knowing this, I’m still torn. “Shit. Alright. I assume I’m taking the rookies?”
The worried CEO nods. “That’s all we’ve got. I called them all in and pulled Frank to get them geared up. I want you guys in the air five minutes ago.”
“And what if you hadn’t found me?”
Knot offers me his hand, and we shake. “I would have taken them myself. Watch your ass, man.”
I rush from the room to gear up, collecting Piper and her go bag first. After grabbing my stuff from the locker, we hit the armory next. The new crew is finishing up as Knot delivers his final directive and warning.
Ignoring them, I load out, grabbing weapons, ammo, and a few extra uniforms. I join the others when finished, catching the tail end of Knot’s spiel. “Your orders will come from Colonel Madden. On this op, he’s CO, Pentagon, and President. Do what he says, or you’ll answer to me. Now, get moving and bring our people home.”
Knot tips his head to me on his way out.
Austin
