Chapter 7

Aaron jumped down from the helo, his rucksack and rifle slung across his back, his boots scuffing in the dirt as he and his teammates hustled across the heliport toward their ride. The State Department had informed the Mexican Government of their imminent arrival and plans to retrieve the missing American hostages in a joint operation with the Mexican military. While U.S. Special Forces often worked hand-in-hand with training the Mexican Special Forces in counternarcotics and counterterrorism capacities, in this instance they'd be working side-by-side to extract two hostages from the cartel's clutches.

Grunting, Aaron moved with his teammates toward the idling vehicles. It had been a long-ass flight from Honolulu to Mexico, and after the C-17 touched down, they'd grabbed their gear and boarded a helo to their destination. With the long flight and time change, they'd be moving in within a matter of hours.

His gaze swept the area, taking in the Mexican authorities and military waiting for them. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he listened to his commander's voice through his headset.

While the drug cartels weren't the same beast as the terrorist organizations in the Middle East that plotted attacks on U.S. soil and abroad, the illegal drug trade brought about a multitude of other problems. The cartel leaders were ruthless men who'd killed to fight their way to the top of their organizations. Those types of men showed no mercy for those who crossed their path, and Aaron hated to think of the conditions Wilder and his fiancée were being held in. Had they been beaten or assaulted? Worse?

The SEAL team hoped to find two living hostages, but the situation could change at a moment's notice. Getting to them quickly was urgent, and after the joint briefing, they'd move out under the cover of night.

Briefly, Aaron's mind tracked to the illegal drug trade in Hawaii. He wasn't surprised the DEA had analysts on the ground there in addition to Federal Agents. The Sinaloa Cartel, who'd kidnapped Eric Wilder in Mexico, operated in Hawaii as well. Emersyn would be right in the thick of it with her new job. He was thankful she worked as an analyst and not in a position that would put her in danger. While Aaron may have only just met her, he knew without a doubt that she was special. Something in his gut told him that he'd always regret it if he didn't get to know her more and see what could happen between them.

Except instead of taking her out on a date in sunny Hawaii, he was south of the border readying to take on a dangerous cartel.

Aaron clenched his fist as he climbed into the vehicle, worry churning through his mind. There was always a possibility something could happen to Emersyn while he was gone. Just because she wasn't purposefully putting herself in harm's way didn't mean she couldn't get hurt. Injured. Hell, he'd met her because she'd nearly drowned while kayaking. And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do to help her if she got into any trouble because he was thousands of miles away.

"You okay, man?" Hudson asked, noticing his brooding.

"Yep. Just thinking about Emersyn."

"You're so fucked," Sawyer said with a laugh, grabbing a seat beside him. "That's why I stay single. I see who I want, when I want, and have no one tying me down when I'm gone."

"She's not tying me down," Aaron said, shooting him an annoyed look.

"Not yet. You haven't even known her a week and look how you're pining away for her. It's coming, Anchor," he said with a smirk. "She'll have you by the balls before you know it."

Aaron muttered a curse.

"Enough," Wyatt ground out. "We're heading to the military facility to be briefed and don't have time for this now."

"Roger that," Sawyer quipped.

Hudson leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together. Aaron's gaze tracked toward Ryan and Austin, who were climbing into the second vehicle with some of their Mexican counterparts. A storm was rolling in, dark clouds ominously filling the sky. It could hamper their operation to some degree but would also provide them with cover. There would no doubt be fewer people hanging around the buildings outside in a storm, and he and his teammates would be better hidden in the shadows.

"Any updates?" Hudson asked, eyeing Wyatt.

"The families of the hostages aren't being good about keeping this quiet. They stirred up a fuss to get the U.S. military to move in, but it's possible it'll leak to the press while we're still here."

"Well damn," Sawyer said. "They need to get their fucking priorities straight. Do they want to see their loved ones again? Then don't jeopardize an op before it's begun."

"No shit," Hudson said, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Nothing like announcing our arrival."

"Even if the cartel gets wind of this, they probably don't realize we know their location," Aaron said in a low voice. "That photo they sent for ransom with the hotel pool caught in the background was stupid as hell."

"Agreed," Wyatt said. "They were in a rush, but their fuck-up tipped us off. I just hope they haven't moved the hostages to a second location yet. We should find out more shortly when we're briefed on the latest intel."

"How'd Callie take you leaving?" Aaron asked, eyeing his team leader as the vehicles began to move.

"She was worried, but she knows the drill." Wyatt spoke in a calm voice, but Aaron could see the underlying tension on his face. Callie had been in grave danger not once but twice. Both times she'd been rescued by Wyatt, but the fact of the matter was, the team was gone. While the remaining terrorist who'd hijacked her plane had been taken out, shit happened. Aaron and his teammates knew that better than anyone.

"How do you handle it?" Aaron asked. "Leaving her," he clarified.

"I just fucking do it. It sucks, but we're not the first couple to be separated by deployments. Thankfully ours are short. That's not to say we wouldn't ever get sent on a longer mission, but hell. I'm grateful that we get in and get out. I just have to trust that Callie will be smart and stay safe while I'm gone."

"Easier said than done," Aaron muttered.

Wyatt reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. "She'll stay out of trouble. Emersyn's still recovering from her near-drowning, and her sister is in town. There's not a chance in hell Layton will let her do anything risky."

"I was supposed to take Layton out this weekend," Hudson said with a wistful smile. "So much for that. She'll be on a plane flying back to Virginia soon."

Aaron flashed his buddy a knowing look. Hudson had certainly enjoyed flirting with her when they'd all moved Emersyn into her place. "Maybe she'll come back and visit her sister."

"Maybe, maybe not," Hudson said, lifting his shoulder. "She's got a busy career in real estate from what I gather, and let's face it. Most people aren't flying out to Hawaii multiple times a year."

"Buy her a ticket," Sawyer said. "Women like that shit."

Hudson chuckled and shook his head. "Naw. I doubt I'll see her again given the circumstances."

Aaron watched him for a moment then listened to an update from their CO over his headset. "The U.S. Government has received a second message from Alejandro Lopez's men. They're demanding the ransom be paid within twelve hours or one of the hostages will be executed."

"Shit," Aaron said under his breath. It was always better to buy time, to convince the perps that negotiations were underway to meet their demands. There was no telling what Lopez would do as things escalated.

He wondered again about Wilder. Had he been played by Lopez? Or was something else going on?

A loud clap of thunder boomed as they rode in their vehicles toward the military buildings, and Aaron muttered a curse. It wasn't looking like a great night to move in, but they wouldn't necessarily have a choice. They'd run ops in worse conditions, and the lives of two U.S. citizens were currently at stake.

Ten minutes later, the team was pulling up to a secure military compound. Aaron's gaze swept across the area, taking in the perimeter fence and armed servicemembers guarding the gate. Their driver flashed a badge, and they were waved through, pulling up to a large structure surrounded by military vehicles.

"Let's roll out," Wyatt said over their comms units, and the team hopped out of the vehicles.

Wyatt was already introducing himself to their commander as the team gathered around him. They'd barely gotten to take in their surroundings before the sky opened, and the team hustled inside with their counterparts. Aaron brushed water off his camo uniform as they moved down the hallway toward a briefing room, his boots squeaking on the tile floor. No doubt they'd be soaked during their op later if the weather didn't let up.

Both teams gathered around a conference table, Aaron taking a seat beside Sawyer. While the Mexican military was planning to provide security around the building where the hostages were being held, guarding all exits, Aaron and his teammates would enter in the dead of night. It was believed that multiple armed cartel members were currently stationed there, despite it's vicinity to downtown Cancun.

One of the commanders of the Mexican Special Forces unit stood at the front of the room, clicking on a laptop to bring up a map. "Intelligence indicates both Americans are likely being held on the eleventh floor of the Baja Nightclub building. The cartel has a residence there in the penthouse, used primarily for trafficking purposes. They move drugs into the club, selling them to patrons nightly. Many of the clubgoers are tourists. They're here and gone before the local police can stop them."

"No doubt the cartel has the local cops in their back pocket," Sawyer said.

"It's an unfortunate problem," the Mexican commander agreed. "While twenty years ago, the cartels stayed away from tourist hotspots like Cancun, they're here now, trafficking drugs and women. We assess there are other cartel members in the building, in other units aside from the penthouse."

"Well fuck," Sawyer muttered under his breath.

"The encroachment of the cartels on vacation hotspots is putting tourists at risk as the drug trade increases. They're sending more and more drugs to the continental U.S.," Wyatt said. "Hawaii, as well."

The commander nodded. "They'll do anything and everything then can to expand their market. There's a turf war going on—competing cartels who want the same customers."

"That's not going to end well," Ryan said, crossing his arms.

"Not at all. The levels of violence will only increase," the Mexican commander said. "Greed is a strong motivator, and each cartel leader wants a bigger piece of the pie."

Aaron frowned as the briefing continued. Wyatt wasn't wrong in mentioning Hawaii. The international ports and airports in the state allowed for the transportation of commerce as well as illegal goods. Emersyn's arrival as an analyst with DEA only confirmed the magnitude of the problem. She'd be there, helping to track the movement of narcotics. For a split second, Aaron's mind flashed to her as being the female hostage in the clutches of the cartel. Bound. Helpless. At their complete fucking mercy.

He clenched his fists, horrified at the thought. Emersyn would never be in that position because she worked in an office behind a computer screen. She might read intelligence about dangerous cartel leaders, assessing their motivations and movements, but that was all. While DEA agents might raid properties around the island, she'd be out of harm's way.

A loud crack of thunder boomed just then, and he exchanged a look with Wyatt. Aside from slowing their movement, the storm could potentially add to the hostages' panic during the rescue. The team would move in during the dead of night, so hopefully the weather cleared by then. Otherwise, it'd be a potential complication they didn't need.

"What's the forecast?" he asked, frowning as another round of thunder shook the room.

"Another hour, and the storm will have passed over us," one of the Mexican authorities said. "There's a tropical storm moving in within the next few days, however."

"We plan to be on our way long before then," Sawyer smirked.

Wyatt shifted in his seat, leaning forward. "Do we have an update on the condition of the hostages?" he asked.

"Negative. We received the same photo as you and haven't heard anything since."

Aaron's headset crackled, and he heard his commander's voice. "I informed our Mexican counterparts of the new timeline, with Lopez requesting the ransom money within twelve hours."

"Roger that, sir," Wyatt said before speaking to the Mexican miliary commander.

"Understood," the man said. "We're aware of the urgency of this matter and are prepared to move in as scheduled. The Baja Nightclub closes at oh-two-hundred. There will be multiple people around if we attempt to infiltrate and extract the hostages before then."

Wyatt eyed him, nodding. "That's a complication we don't need." He clicked his mic, speaking to their CO as well as everyone in the room. "The op is a go. We'll move in at oh-three-hundred this morning. The nightclub beneath the residences closes at oh-two-hundred, and we want the area empty when we breach the building. Let's go over the plans."