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“Copy that,” she answered. And she did it just right. The drone was silent enough but any noise would carry in the silence of the afternoon, so she went in fast. By the time Asshole 1 realized he was hearing something, it was too late.
The drone zipped out from the terrace roof and flashed to the guy’s face. All he’d perceive is something dark, moving fast toward him. He shifted toward the drone, flailing his arms and Raul was behind him in a second, putting him in a chokehold.
Chokeholds were great. Raul loved them. They downed an enemy without blood or guts being spilled. He was really tempted to make the chokehold last long enough to make the douchebag’s unconsciousness permanent, but after a moment, he relented and left the man on the ground, head lolling. He jabbed him with the preloaded syringe and put restraints on his wrists and ankles and tied ankles to wrists.
He stepped up, looking at his handiwork. Bad guy # 1, restrained. He took the man’s Glock 19 and stuck it in his waistband. Weapon, removed. Using his foot, he turned Asshole 1 over and took several shots of his face and sent them to Emma.
“Can you send those to Hope and Felicity for ID?” he asked Emma.
She clucked her tongue. “Please.”
He had no idea what she meant until his cell flashed a photo ID badge. Martin Safire. Currently employed at Sierra Security Solutions, a security company based in LA that had a bad rep. Not that its agents were bad at what they did, but that it was a company that was willing to stretch the limits of what it was willing to do.
The other guard was probably also Sierra Security Solutions, which recruited from the military. Two former soldiers guarding a financial analyst. That wasn’t good.
“Going after the second one,” he subvocalized.
“Roger that,” she answered quietly. Raul grinned. She really did read a lot of thrillers.
The drone made the round of the house, lifting up over windows, then dropping back down to skim the side of the house. The kitchen was on the other side of the mansion. The drone stopped outside the kitchen in IR mode. Asshole # 2 was eating, just finishing up. Raul imagined that his task would be to guard Toby, and the other asshole was supposed to guard the perimeter.
He had to act fast. It would be standard procedure for the two to check in on each other periodically. They were sloppy but if that was protocol, they’d follow it. Raul had to take Asshole # 2 down before he alerted to the fact that something was wrong. The element of surprise was his best weapon here.
Fiery Asshole #2 stepped away from the table holding something. Something cold and inert which didn’t show on IR. No points for guessing a weapon. He was armed, but then so was Raul.
“Emma, show me –”
He didn’t even finish the sentence and the mansion’s floor plan was on the screen of his cell. He absorbed the plan and waited. If the man went to the left, he would take a route to the right. If he went to the right, Raul would take a route to the left. Either way, he could see how to stage outside the room Toby was in and how to get there before the guard.
The guard went left.
The door to the back was unlocked, which was bad tactics. No doubt they thought themselves super safe and keeping the door unlocked made it easier for them. ASI would have kicked out any operator who made such a sloppy mistake. In the Teams, that would have been enough to have you kicked out.
Raul kicked the guy trussed on the ground just to make sure he was still out. Not even his eyelids moved.
He eased himself into the house, quiet and fast, and stood with his back to the wall, at the corner where the bedrooms began. Unfortunately, the bedroom where Toby was being held was two doors down. It was going to be tricky.
Asshole # 2 came walking down from the end of the corridor. Emma had put the IR image back on his phone so Raul could follow. Asshole # 2 walked to the room Toby was in, opened the door, checked on Toby, closed the door. Toby hadn’t moved in all this time.
“Emma,” he murmured. “Create a distraction.”
Almost instantly a loud thump came from the wall at the end of the corridor. Asshole # 2’s head swiveled and he started walking toward the sound. It was all Raul needed. He was fast when he needed to be. In under a second, he was behind the man with his baton swinging to the back of his head. He didn’t hit hard enough to break skin but enough to ring his bell. Another chokehold and syringe and the man sagged in Raul’s arms. He eased him to the ground and trussed him up like he’d done with Asshole # 1. He took a photograph and sent it to Emma.
“Going in to Toby now. Don’t see other heat signatures, you guys are good to come in. I found the house system. The gates and the front door will be open. I’m going to go to Toby.”
“We’re on our way.” Emma’s voice was ragged. She was running.
Raul slipped into the room where Toby was being held. He stood by the bed for a moment, letting anger flash through him at the sight of the young man shackled to a bed. He had a badly bandaged head wound. His face was waxy pale and drawn. The one arm that was handcuffed had blood around the handcuff where he’d tried and failed to wrench himself free.
He looked like a hostage in a terrorism video, a young man kidnapped and tormented, basically because he was too smart.
Raul hated this. Hated the fact that the thugs of the world thought they could punish the smart and the bright because thugs weren’t afraid of using violence. Well, neither was he.
He’d gloved up because he wanted the fuckheads who’d done this to wake up to find their hostage gone and no clue at all as to what had happened.
The first thing was to unshackle Toby, give him back some dignity, even if he was unconscious. Luckily Raul had received extensive and expensive lessons on how to do this, courtesy of Uncle Sam. In a moment, the handcuff was open and Toby’s arm fell to the bed. He moaned, the pain reaching down past the drugs he’d been given. If he’d been handcuffed for four days, it was lucky he hadn’t dislocated his shoulder.
Raul put a hand on Toby’s other shoulder and gently shook him. “Toby. Toby. Can you wake up?”
