Sinclair Justice (Texas Rangers #2)(74)
Ross cleared his throat, his heart hammering. “And Emm? How are we going to protect her?”
Chad looked a bit uncomfortable. “She’s your responsibility,” he said. “They’ve been planning this op for weeks and one woman, no matter who she is, may have to be expendable if Cervantes tries to use her as a shield.” Chad offered tablets to Ross and the others. “But he did give us a schematic of the mansion, and they’ve had the place under surveillance, too. He says this exterior wall—” Chad zoomed in on part of the ground-floor plan—“is the study where Cervantes conducts most of his business. If the infrared imaging shows several bodies in that room, we can assume that’s where he’s holding Emm and Tupperman and make one of our entries there at the same time the marines go in the front and rear.”
Chad looked at each of the task force leads from the various agencies. “Remember, assuming we get the chance to do a search, our priority is any information we can get on who the splinter groups are back home. Who heads them, how the drugs and women are being smuggled, the trail of funds—”
“Particularly look for the names of Curt Tupperman and Brett Umarov,” Ross inserted.
They nodded, now all grim professionals. Even Rosemary wore the new body armor, though she looked thinner still in the heavy equipment, like a model playing soldier.
Ross hesitated, knowing Chad might not like him butting in, but he had to do this. For Emm . . . And Chad was so new to the task force, he probably hadn’t had time to get fully up to speed.
He pulled out a file from his pack and handed around pictures of Emm, Yancy, and Jennifer. In happier times, true, but it would be enough to identify them. “Here are pics of the hostages. The two Russell women, if they’re here, have probably undergone months of abuse, so we need to be ready with medical attention.”
Rosemary nodded at her medic. He held up his bag and tapped the mike in his ear. “Just say the word and I’ll storm up the hillside.” He’d been instructed to hold back until summoned as he wasn’t a field operative or combat specialist.
Almost as an afterthought, Ross added a stock photo of Curt. “Tupperman, we think, is one of their top American contacts, but we’re not sure. Just take him into custody, but don’t trust him. We’ll sort it out after we have the situation secure.”
They all nodded and got into their assigned transports.
Chad had pleaded for, and received, permission for him and Ross to ride in the front armored truck. As they began the long trip from the airport, Ross was relieved to get a text from Abby, who was in the rear panel van, saying that the tracker was still live and hadn’t moved. The over-the-counter electronic device wasn’t sensitive enough to pinpoint Emm’s exact location, but Abby knew she was still at the compound.
Inside the study in the compound, Emm forced herself to meet Cervantes’s obsidian eyes. They’d turned on all the lights as it was now dark outside. Curt was translating, as needed, between the two of them. The thought crossed her mind that he might censor some of what she said for his benefit, but she had little choice but to trust him at this point; he was the only ally she had.
She carefully formulated the words she’d mentally rehearsed. “Yancy is my sister, as I said. Half sister, but I love her dearly and she’s my only sibling. I’ve already cleared this with my father—” she was getting pretty good at lying, Emm thought, for her voice didn’t even falter—“and we’re prepared to pay richly to get her and Jennifer back.”
Cervantes snapped something. Curt paled slightly but translated, “He wants to know why he should trust anything you say when you invaded his home under false pretenses.”
Emm pulled the envelope from her bag. “A deposit in good faith. Fifteen grand.” She extended it and one of the guards took it, counting the money. “If he’ll allow me to confirm Yancy and Jennifer are okay, to see them with my own eyes, I’ll contact my father and have him wire half of whatever ransom we all agree on to the account of his preference. We promise not to go to the police or any other agency, either here or in the States. Once we have Yancy and Jennifer safe, that will be the end of it. We’ll arrange our own transport out of the country, and when we’ve boarded the plane, my father will wire the other half.”
As he listened to Cervantes, who used his hands again as he talked, Curt sighed. “The women are very valuable. Especially the younger one.” He listened, swallowed, and added, as Cervantes looked Emm up and down, “And if he adds you to his inventory, you won’t be a threat and he’ll still make a lot of money.”
Emm had been ready for this one. “He can do that, but my father and grandfather know where I am.” Another lie. There had been no time, and Emm barely knew the wealthy side of the family. “My great-uncle has many businesses in Latin America and knows many people. Including governors and other business owners. Yancy is not a Rothschild by birth, so they looked the other way. But I am . . .” Emm lifted her chin as that gaze raked her again, hoping, for once in her life, that she looked as regal and snotty as people always said.
Cervantes laughed and made an aside to his men. Curt looked away rather than translate. Emm said through her teeth, “What did he say?”
Curt muttered, “He said all women are alike between the legs. And he thinks you just haven’t been mounted enough.”