Page 12 of All Twisted Up
“You and Mickey going to be okay?” he asked, looking sympathetically at me.
I patted the Irishman on the shoulder. “We’re…we’re—” Twenty feet away Mickey was having an animated conversation with Napoleon Smith. I turned back to Patsy. “Things will work out. I just did a shitty thing, and he hasn’t gotten over it yet.”
Patsy frowned. “Things always work out, brother, but hey, maybe next time you don’t be a gobshite, yeah?” When I didn’t respond, he went on, poking me in the center of my chest for good measure. “Just make sure you work together today. You’re going to be rappellin’ from twelve bloody floors up, Nash. No one wants to see either of you lads end up as a stain on the footpath because you weren’t concentrating on the feckin’ job at hand. That’d be messy, Twizz. No mistakes allowed.” He patted me on the arm and walked away.
He wasn’t kidding.
We jogged three blocks to the building, fanning out at Candy’s order. “Take your positions, boys. Let’s make sure this fucker has a very bad day.”
“Yes, sir!” we said in unison.
“We’re on the tenth floor, Captain Turley,” someone from the DEA’s team said in our coms.
“Hold position until the FBI’s team is in place,” Turley replied.
I watched the men on my team as they moved, feeling pride at how we worked like a well-oiled machine. Good and Smith jogged down the alleys on the sides of the building to the back. Their job was to take out Gomez or any of his sicarios if they happened to exit the back door or through the loading dock at the rear of the building.
Rex Monroe and his M110 SASS would be in the nest we’d personally chosen for him. I could’ve sworn the huge Texan treated that big sniper rifle like a lover and I had to admit, there was a lot to love about it. It was sexy, as weapons went. A U.S. Special Forces favorite, the semi-automatic rifle came equipped with 7.62 x 51-millimeter NATO rounds. The weapon was fast, precise, and best of all, it came with a quick attach suppressor system that allowed an Army sniper like Rex, to fire it in an urban setting with little to no sound or muzzle flash.
At the nod of Candy’s head, I watched him salute the captain and take off, running into the building to get into position. Alain Joy, positioned himself in the alley between Gomez’ residence and the trinket shop to cover the side door. Candy would be covering the door in the other alley between the apartment building and the Chinese grocery. No one would be getting out of the building if we had our way.
Mickey walked over to me, garbed like I was in full tac gear, rappelling harness already in place over his body armor, helmet, and vest, holding a weapon similar to my own. “Ready, Twizz?”
The use of my nickname made me feel just the tiniest bit better about our friendship. I reached out, grabbed his harness and double checked to make sure everything was tight and in place. When I’d checked him over, I glanced up at him and smiled. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go, Milky.”
We jogged to the side of the building, slung our weapons over our backs, and started climbing. It took a few minutes to get to the top and by the time we made it, my leg muscles were definitely showing signs of fatigue. From the roof, I spotted our BearCat slowly driving up the street. It stopped at the curb directly in front of the building. Candy hopped out and looked up at us through binoculars. I waved down to him, and he acknowledged my presence with a nod of his head.
“Twizz, Milky, start moving to the center of the building,” Candy said in the earwig. “I’ll tell you when you’re directly above the apartment.”
“Roger,” Mickey replied. We moved into place, stopping when Candy told us. I swiveled around to look for an anchor. Mickey pointed to an air conditioning unit about twenty feet away. “There.”
“I see it.” After we’d both secured rappelling lines to the unit, we walked back to the edge and awaited Turley’s go order. I crouched at the edge looking toward the sun which was just now beginning to rise on the horizon. Listening to my brothers confirming their positions in my com, I waited, anxious for the confirmation that Turley’s people were ready to breach. Marshall was stretched out on top of the BearCat, lying on his belly, pointing his own sniper rifle at the front door. I glancedat Mickey, giving him a thumbs up. He smiled back at me, returning the gesture.
“Got eyeballs on the room, sir,” Rex drawled in the com. “I’m countin’ five guys, all loungin’ like little lizards sunnin’ themselves.”
“Can you identify Gomez?”
“Nope, and as far as the others…well, they look like them sicario fellas, but there appear to be two civilians, sir.”
“Civilians?” Candy asked.
“Guess I should say they ain’t of the Hispanic persuasion, sir. Don’t look like they belong, so how they got all tangled up with them rattlesnakes, can’t rightly say, sir.”
“Roger, Monroe, let me know if anything changes.”
“Will do, sir.”
I glanced over at Mickey before muting my com. “You think those could be the two civilians we spotted going in earlier?”
Mickey frowned inside his goggles. “The young guys from that gray car? They can’t be much older than kids.”
I glanced down to the street, noting that the car was still parked at the curb. “Shit.” I unmuted my com. “Candy, we think the civilians might be the two kids earlier in the gray car.”
“Roger,” Candy shot back. “Hold position and let me know if anything changes. Turley, we might have two civilians in the apartment.”
“I heard. Nothing changes. We proceed.”
I actually heard Candy growl, and when I glanced at Mickey, his eyes were wide.
