Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(68)
Ross leaped to his feet to pace. “How could she be that f*cking stupid? He’s part of the money-laundering end of Los Lobos, I’m sure of it!”
Abby said gently, “In my brief acquaintanceship with Ms. Rothschild, I’d say there’s very little she won’t dare when someone she loves is in danger. I would also be extremely surprised if she didn’t have serious suspicions about her supposed ally and prepare accordingly. She is the one who identified him first as a suspect. . . .”
Ross rubbed his aching forehead, opening his mouth to say he needed access to a jet, immediately, but a knock at the door forestalled him. A junior FBI agent hurried in, carrying a printed e-mail marked “secure server” at the top. He went straight to the FBI Agent in Charge, Rosemary Reed, a svelte blonde who looked more like a model than a dedicated G-man. “Ma’am, the Mexican authorities just notified us that Ms. Rothschild and Mr. Tupperman’s passports were stamped at a private executive airport outside Mexico City.”
“When?” asked Rosemary sharply.
The agent checked the e-mail. “Two hours ago.”
Ross looked pleadingly at Chad, who nodded. “Confirm that the registration number of the jet is the same one that left the Patton airstrip and see if Mexican customs will hold it until we arrive.” The young agent hurried back out.
Ross looked at his friend. “I realize it’s a bit irregular, given I resigned from the task force, but I need to be on this operation. I . . . know her better than anyone else.”
Chad looked at each task force member one by one. Rosemary eyed Ross’s drawn and pale features, opened her mouth, then closed it and nodded reluctantly. It was apparent to all the lead agents that Ross Sinclair was definitely not objective in the matter of Emm Rothschild’s possible alliance with a man now wanted by at least five federal agencies, but they kept their reservations to themselves. In over twenty years of brilliant and unblemished service to the State of Texas, Sinclair had always been a stickler for details. The fact that he’d resigned from the task force because he knew his feelings were compromised convinced all of the men in the room that he was still a professional law enforcement officer, not just a man in love.
But Rosemary eyed Ross critically as they began making a plan of action that would have to be coordinated with Mexican authorities.
Under the circumstances, Ross didn’t take time to go back to the ranch to pack. He called his dad and asked him to organize things as the reunion ended and to convey his regrets, telling him curtly only that he had to make an emergency trip out of town. He picked up a few things in Amarillo and stuck them in a DPS pack, along with his state-issued Sig Sauer P226 .357 and his own custom Ed Brown handmade 1911 .45 with rosewood grips. He also had two extra clips for each pistol. Others would be carrying shotguns and machine guns.
Would it be enough? Given Mexico’s strong anticarry laws, the Mexican authorities didn’t like them bringing in weapons, even for a joint op, but they’d allow it this time because of the huge firepower they’d likely be facing, and the fact that there were likely American hostages involved.
But then Chad knocked and entered with a full set of protective gear on one arm, wearing another set, and Ross’s sense of urgency increased. “The latest from DC.” Chad pounded on his own chest as hard as he could. “Some type of hybrid material. They say it will stop damn near anything. I wanted to try my own out before we go and thought you should, too.”
Chad set the gear down on Ross’s desk. Ross nodded at him to close the door. Chad complied, looking resigned, as if he knew what was coming.
Ross said, “As former head of the task force, I think I’m now up to speed on the latest intel. Please assign me just to this operation instead of you. I have to go; she’s my woman. You don’t. You have a family.”
Chad scowled. “I was half-expecting this from you, but you’re not my daddy, so back off.”
Ross frowned right back. “I never said I was, but with all the personnel on this op, we don’t both need to be there, and it would be smart to have someone manning everything from central control. That way if we need to request more Mexican troops or get more equipment trucked in, or need to scramble for more intel we didn’t expect, you can coordinate all that.”
Chad made a rude noise. “Yeah, right, while y’all get the collar on the meanest SOB in Mexico City, I’m minding the kitchen. Not hardly.”
“Dammit, Chad—”
“No. That’s final. I’m responsible for this op and I can’t supervise remotely. I do promise to stay out of the way of the Mexican Marines. The president just gave us his approval to include them, but they’re supposed to lead the raid. It is their country, and we have to be careful not to step on any toes.” His voice softened a bit. “Besides, Jasmine would never ask me to stay. She knew I was a Ranger when we got together, and she’s not clingy. It’s one reason I love her so much. She doesn’t try to change me.”
Ross bit back the logical response: Yes, but what about little Trey? Instead, he turned to the new gear. As Chad helped him try it on to be sure it fit properly, Ross’s thoughts fixed yet again on Emm. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t have made the trip without a detailed plan, but what could that possibly be? She didn’t even know where the compound was, much less how to get inside, and even if she did, it was likely Yancy and Jennifer had been moved.