CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

 

The ins and outs of the rescue operation were catalogued in Jax's brain, but his mind was on Seven. He heard every word that Boss Man and Brock shared in his earpiece.

This was the primary residence for Hernán and Esmeralda Suarez. It was the main place of business for the Suarez cartel. There was a larger presence of Suarez militiamen located on and near this property than anywhere else on earth. There were two classes within the militia: the trained militants and the hand-picked inner guard recruited from special ops teams across South and Central America.

This was the largest offensive maneuver on a drug cartel that Jax had ever taken part in with the Titan Group. The Titan and Delta teams, plus there was an additional team that Jax had only heard about in passing and still didn't know the actual name of. They only went by ACES.

ACES knew Parker well, but who didn't know Parker? From what Jax could tell, the team was based out of Titan's Abu Dhabi offices. There was also a large contingency from Mayhem. They were mostly gunners. Many were veterans. All were loyal to bringing Seven and her kids—their kids, they called them—home and willing to take command from Titan, no questions asked.

"You ever heard of ACES?" Locke asked no one in particular as they sat in the belly of the Black Hawk, hovering low and fast toward their drop zone.

"Nope," Bishop said. "I heard Roman mention the asses a couple times."

"Beth and Caterina talk about the asses," Locke added. "I just assumed they were talking about Jax."

The team laughed. He even laughed.

"We're a whole team of assholes," a female voice cracked from the third Black Hawk.

Jax had a feeling they didn't have a clue of the total expanse of Titan Group, and short of tapping into Boss Man's brain, no one ever would.

"Focus," Jared barked. "All teams. All assholes."

Jax smiled but needed to concentrate. Titan worked with many organizations on operations of all scale, but the large ones took the most strategic and tactical breadth. There was a hand-to-hand combat and assault offensive; and snipers nested in trees like birds ready to pick off tangos. Jax and most of Titan, Delta, and ACES were sitting in the bellies of stealth copters, ready to be fast rope-dropped over the tall brick walls of the Suarez compound outside of Leyva. Mayhem and some key Titan Group players had stationed themselves in tactical positions earlier.

"ETA is a minute-thirty," Parker called through their headsets. "Calling time at the thirty, then the twenty, ten to countdown."

Jax worked through the final checklist before they got the kids and his woman. Adrenaline pumped, and his mind hyperfocused. He could picture the maps, where Colby Winters would detonate charges, the blueprints, and assumptions of where the kids would be and how they would be guarded.

Best case scenario and most likely was that Hernán and Esmeralda would be swiftly evacuated by the inner guard. Worst case was that Esmeralda had taken to the kids and would fight to stay with them. Psych-ops reported she was likely a sociopath, and children were likely a hobby. That was about the only good thing Titan had going for them.

"Sixty seconds," Parker said in his com piece then continued the countdown as promised.

The three helos would drop men simultaneously.

"Inbound, you are… ten, nine"—the hatch to the helicopter opened—"four, three, two, and—go."

One after the other, his team jumped and rolled to where the black night met the ground. Titan would hit the main house, and ACES would subdue the inner guard's housing. Delta would do the same for the foot soldiers and slow the outpouring of what would arrive when the alarms blasted, with the help of Mayhem, who would then serve as backup for Titan's main team.

There were motion sensors, dogs, thermal imaging, and guards that they didn't have a bead on ahead of time.

The sniper and spotter teams worked in tandem, subduing obvious threats now that all teams were on-site. Alarm systems disabled. Guards taken out. Tangos were sighted, and shots called.

The unexpected voices of ACES flowed with smooth familiarity with Parker, Brock, and Jared, while Mayhem's communication was less practiced but still as familiar.

Bishop and Locke broke right. Winters stayed dead ahead of Jax with the detonator trigger in hand. Best they could tell, getting through any door at the Suarez complex would require significant explosive effort.

Jax and Nicola ran with their close-range assault rifles as his backup. She fanned left and high against the brick of the house then spun around and dropped to her knee, barrel up and finger on the trigger.

Lights that hadn't been shot out flooded the expansive, manicured yard as Jax saw Sugar taking a position similar to Bishop, Locke, and Nicola.

Now that Jax had teammates accounted for, he stayed on the pivot, keeping Winters covered as he stayed at the door. Having attached the explosive charge, Winters backed up and positioned back-to-back with Jax. "Detonation in—"

"We've got vehicles," ACES called. "Moving fast. Snipers."

"Got them in sight," Ryder said. "Shit. Freaking MRAP."

"I've got the Lone Ranger," called Cash.

Winters motioned to Jax. "We gotta get in there."

He agreed. "They get close, I'll keep them out."

An MRAP exploded in the near-distance, lighting up the sky. "Two more."

Target practice on those armored vehicles was nearly impossible. The shot had to go up and under, exploding into the engine.

"Detonating—three, two, one." The front door blew off the Suarez house. "Here we go."

There were six of them, but two more MRAPs held an untold amount of manpower.

"They're coming straight for the main residence," Cash reported.

"Winters." Jax slung his rifle down. "Throw me something."

Bishop hustled over, nabbing a block of explosives from Winters too. "It's come down to a game of chicken." He held it up as the headlight of the MRAP became visible. "Cheers."

Jax had to smile, maybe feeling as though his team were also his guys for the first time. "Let's go."

They ran as the MRAPs came straight for them, stopping long enough to light the fuses, then rushed toward the war vehicles.

Jax and Bishop pulled sharp in opposite directions as the MRAPs came forward. They threw their charges.

Jax sprinted and dove, covering his head, rolling hard as the two blasts shook the ground—the MRAPs crashed in fiery accidents, mangling against one another.

"Go, go," Ryder said. "We'll clean up behind you."

Jax hit his feet, and Bishop was by his side three strides later, knocking gloves against his. "That was badass."