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According to their informant, half of the AI had been shipped first, and whoever had it was tracking the progress of the second shipment, waiting to see if further information had been leaked.
Once the first half of the AI was in its designated location in Barboursville, the second half would arrive in a short amount of time.
“It’s possible we can add a week to the mission,” Ian told them somberly. “Word is, the shipments left later than expected and had to be delayed. But expect that to change.”
Their informant was careful, cautious.
“We might have some information on the team that hit Mick,” Jack said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze locking with Ian’s. “There’s another merc team in town. A bastard named Chet Rollins and his team. Hayes caught sight of one of them in town just before we headed here. I’m not a big believer in coincidence, and I know at one time there was word Mick and Rollins were gunnin’ for each other.”
Ian’s gaze swung to Kira.
“Don’t look at me.” She held her hands up as though to stop whatever he was about to say. “I haven’t heard even a whisper of that.”
“Your job to know, sweetheart,” he grunted, but Jack could hear an undertone of the emotion Ian’s voice always carried when he spoke to his wife.
“Who are they?” Kira asked then, frowning back at Jack.
“Small four-man team. Originated in South Africa, but they work mainly in South America. Chet Rollins is commander,” Jack answered.
“Second is Rodrigo Sanchez.” Ian grimaced. “His father was part of the Fuentes Cartel when Homeland took it down. Augusto Sanchez was killed in a mission to rescue three senators’ daughters in Colombia. We’ve had some chatter the last couple of years that the team was moving into higher circles.”
“I don’t know about higher circles.” Jack frowned. “The circles he works within haven’t exactly given him great word of mouth. They’re brutal, if that’s what you’re looking for. Within the first week girls will start disappearing, and if they show up alive, they’re either too traumatized to identify their attackers or too damned terrified.”
Ian’s gaze sharpened at the information.
“My team dealt with them in Honduras several years back. We knew they’d killed two young women they’d kidnapped from their homes. We were ordered to stand down. We were getting ready to hit them anyway when the team disappeared. I suspected one of our team members warned them we were coming.” Jack still held that order against the commander that had given it.
“Suggestions?” Ian asked him softly.
“Take them out as quickly as possible,” Jack stated. “I’m still trying to locate their nest. Once I have it, I suggest we go in, hit fast and hard, and leave the bodies to be found by local LEOs. Crossfield and Dawson will get the message.”
The local law enforcement officers would make certain the news of a team of mercenaries dying in the county circulated fast.
“And what message is that?” Kira asked.
Jack’s lips curled in anticipation. “My territory. Once word gets around, whoever’s behind this will have to come to us, or pay a hell of a lot more than any other team is worth to get them to take the risk. Rollins is brutal, and known for it. Most teams would have a hard time getting the drop on him. I won’t. He’ll expect me to come knocking to find out why he’s here and demand my cut of whatever work he has or will get. This is a small, tight-knit community, not a major metropolis where he can sneak in and out. He knows that. And he knows I’m here.”
Unwritten rules.
It would also send a message to anyone else in that seedy little area of the underworld of cutthroats and soldiers for hire, that someone in the area didn’t like poachers.
Ian gave a quick, hard nod.
“Your op, your team,” he stated. “I can’t provide backup…”
“We got this.” Jack shrugged, unconcerned. “If we don’t, then we deserve to be taken out. Rollins is small game, not one of the big dogs.”
The “big dogs,” as he called the more professional, high-end groups, would have checked the area out thoroughly, made note of the discharged and/or retired Special Force members in the tristate area, and either sent an agent to discuss joining their team or taken a cut of the fee for standing down.
That was, if they took the job to begin with. Most mercs had no desire to get on the wrong side of Homeland Security or the CIA, which they would if they accepted a job such as this.
“Give me tonight to find them for you,” Ian said then. “I have contacts in the area and resources you don’t.”
“Sat tracking,” Lucas murmured.
Satellite tracking was a game changer.
“You have till daylight,” Jack told him. “We need to hit no later than tomorrow night or girls are going to start coming up missing. And I do mean ‘girls.’ Then, I’ll get pissed.”
