A/N: This is a Babe HEA, though no Cupcakes have been harmed in the making. Standard disclaimers apply - the characters are Janet's, and any mistakes are mine.
The story is titled after the song "Something Just Like This" by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay, which is my theme song for this fic. Many other songs served as inspiration throughout, and I'll try to include a link to a Spotify playlist on my profile in case you're interested. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
Prologue
"Six, where the hell are you?"
He got no answer. Same as he'd gotten sixty seconds ago. Ranger forced his grip on the steering wheel to relax and kept his eyes glued to the side of the building where his man had disappeared. Alex was meant to be scoping the location. A quick, five-minute recon. And yet here they were, ten minutes later, getting radio silence.
It was an undercover op, and Ranger was connected to his man via an earbud. For the first couple minutes he could believe that Alex was looking for a private space to communicate, but the feasibility of that had evaporated. He'd been too quiet for too long.
He turned to Dante in the passenger seat next to him. "You ready to go fishing?"
Dante grinned. "Sure. Kid probably got distracted, taking in the scenery. Bet you twenty billete I find him with his hand up a skirt."
"Make it forty, and you're on," Pedro contributed from the backseat.
"I'll take that bet," Cordero said in Ranger's ear.
Ranger relayed the message to Dante, since he was still working on getting his earbud in. "TOC is in."
Dante got his earbud online and arranged his blue bandana to partially obscure it. "TOC, this is Two. I'm going in. I'll take you all out for cervezas when I win this bet."
Dante had his hand on the door handle when they heard Alex in their ears. "Sorry to disappoint, boys."
"Six, report," Ranger said.
"We've got a bit of a Charlie Foxtrot," he said, voice low. "I'm exiting the building, and I'll loop back around to you in two mikes."
The side street Ranger had picked was barely within view of their target building, but it had the advantage of being low-to-no traffic, foot or vehicular. So when a lone figure appeared at the end of the street, Ranger was pretty sure it was Alex, but he felt better with his hand resting on his Glock anyway. He would've felt even better with his hand resting on his M4, but it didn't fit their cover.
Alex wrenched the door open and swung into the back of the SUV next to Pedro. "I was under the impression that this shindig was supposed to have an exclusive guest list."
"What did you find?" Ranger asked.
"The place is packed," Alex said. "Our target is there, but surrounded. No one is checking names at the door. The club seems like it's business as usual."
"TOC, you getting this?"
"Roger that. Standby," Cordero told them.
Someone had fucked up. In their line of work, the cost of a fuck-up was sometimes human life, so Ranger felt justified in his annoyance. Their intelligence was that the nightclub was reserved tonight for a private party. Seemed that wasn't the case, which meant it was presumably filled with innocent civilians.
He angled to face Alex in the backseat. "Where's our target? What's the set-up?"
"Our HVT is with Valdez in a private room, cordoned off from the main space with a velvet rope. It's open, no walls, more like a VIP area than an actual room. First floor, back of the club, across from the main bar. It's the only private room on the floor. I counted four guards. Two other men and two women, plus Valdez and Gabriella."
"Work it through," Ranger coached. "What's the plan?"
"We might actually have an advantage on entry," Alex said. "If there are more civilians than Reyes, we won't be spotted as quickly. We could disappear into the crowd on the dance floor, which stands between the entrance and Valdez's private room. It's on exit where we'll be in trouble. That's a lot of bodies to get through."
"No other exit?"
"That's what took me so long. I cased the main floor and the second, even asked a bartender about deliveries. There's nothing. Everything and everyone comes in the main door. We could go out a window, but they're five feet off the ground and we'd be sitting ducks while we scrambled out. I don't see the last man making it out."
"How many civilians?"
Alex thought about it. "Five hundred. Give or take."
Ranger didn't like it. Alex was right, their job in getting to their HVT would be easier, but getting out would be messy. Too messy.
"TOC, this is One. Recommending we scrap this mission and regroup."
"Copy, One," Cordero told him. "Continue standing by."
Ranger's knuckles flexed on the steering wheel again.
"Admit it," Dante said to Alex. "You still stopped to cop a feel at some point in there, right?"
Pedro laughed, and Alex gave Dante a middle finger. "Just because you have no self-control doesn't mean no one else does."
Ranger grinned, appreciating that Alex was giving as good as he got. He'd been with them for three years now, and it had taken the kid awhile to open up. Dante was good at getting people out of their shells, which Ranger appreciated. Trust among the team was critical, but had never been among his fortes. He had no doubt that any one of his men would completely trust him at their backs, but he didn't usually open up enough to form deep bonds and brotherhood. Some people needed that, so he left it to Dante.
"One, this is TOC. We'd like to proceed. Repeat, continue mission. Copy?"
"Good copy, TOC. Charlie mike." Ranger took a slow breath, reigning in his annoyance. If Command said push on, they would push on. He didn't have to be happy about it, but did have to give his team confidence in the decision. He didn't like the call, but he would respect it, because Cordero deserved it.
They suited up, which mostly meant that they all donned their bandanas, and Pedro popped in his earbud. They each had at least two handguns, and Ranger had a knife in an ankle holster. He knew Dante would, too; the man was wicked with a blade. Given the change in circumstances, it was especially unfortunate that they didn't have body armor. Another thing that Ranger was unhappy about, but he pushed it aside to focus on the op.
They walked into the nightclub with no problems, although the bouncer clearly would have preferred if they were bringing women in with them. The music was loud and the floor vibrated under their feet. Alex's count had been accurate. The first floor bar was two people deep, and the dance floor was packed.
"Spread out," he said. His voice wouldn't carry over the music, but his men would still hear him in their earbuds. "Blend in, and wait for my mark."
Ranger followed his own advice, letting his body take up the beat while he moved fluidly through the crowd on the dance floor. His goal was to pick a woman to help with his cover while he got close to the private room and scoped it. He had his sights set on a woman in her mid-thirties, dark hair cut short so it flared around her face. She was dancing by herself, flanked by two other women. He was closing in on her when he was intercepted.
A woman stepped in front of him and put her hands on his hips, without breaking the beat. "Hola, guapo."
She was fair-skinned with curly brown hair and light, grayish-blueish eyes. He returned the greeting and smiled down at her, moving his hands to her hips to maneuver her more easily through the crowd. He steered them closer to Valdez's private room and got eyes on their target.
Just as Alex said, Valdez had four guards. Two were posted near the entrance, scanning the club. The other two hovered on either side of the couch that Valdez was sitting on. Valdez had his arm around a pretty Latina with long dark hair. Gabriella.
"I've got eyes on our HVT," he said.
The woman in his arms looked up at him. "You speak good English."
Shit. "¿Habla ingles?"
"Yes. I practice English for university."
"You're doing great," he told her.
The woman was telling him about the American television shows she watched to practice her English, but Ranger was busy scoping out Valdez. He was a man that Ranger had been stalking for the past five years, and this was only the second time that he'd ever gotten within twenty yards of him. Nestor Valdez was in his early forties, with dark brown hair that he kept just long enough to push behind his ears. He was 6'2" and built like a linebacker. He moved gracefully and exuded the power that he'd spent he last twenty years of his life amassing.
While he watched, Valdez leaned in close to say something in Gabriella's ear. She smiled at him and patted his chest. Valdez rose. He said something to one of his guards, and then he ambled to the edge of the private space, let himself out through the rope, and disappeared around a corner. One of the guards followed at a distance.
"Six, where does that back hallway lead?"
"Dead ends at restrooms," Alex answered.
The woman Ranger was dancing with was slowly but surely moving her hands closer to his belt buckle. He grabbed her wrists and held them together while his mind conjured a plan. Valdez's guests, the other two couples, were wrapped up in each other. Gabriella was alone on the couch, sipping champagne and scrolling through her phone. The private room didn't appear so private. There were a dozen or so people congregating at high-top tables spread around the couch, and as he watched, a couple came back from he bar and were acknowledged with a simple head nod from one of the guards.
Ranger had a plan percolating. He brought the woman's hands up and brushed his lips against her knuckles."¿Vives por aquí?"
"No. I live near the university," she replied.
About twenty minutes to the west. That was doable. "Who are you here with?"
"My sister. Today is her birthday." She gestured to a woman a few bodies away who was engaged in what looked like a mating ritual with a guy who didn't seem to be repping any colors. "That's her boyfriend."
"Did you come here with anyone else?"
She shook her head. "They won't miss me if you want to leave."
"I do, but I think we should make it a party," he suggested.
"I like parties." She plastered herself against him and pressed her lips to his neck.
Ranger turned her so her back was against his front and brought his mouth down to her ear. "See that girl over there, all alone?"
The woman hesitated slightly, but nodded.
"Want to see if she'd like to join us?"
She craned her neck to look up at him, and he noticed that her pupils were dilated. Hard to say if she was turned on, or just high. "¿Quieres que la recoja por ti?"
He sensed she was balking. He wrapped his arm around her from behind, his hand resting on her stomach. "Haré que valga la pena."
She looked up at him, considering. Desire and uncertainty warred in her eyes, and he moved his hand north, dragging the hem of her shirt up with him. He was an asshole of the highest order, but the clock was ticking. Finally she nodded. He smiled and gave her a nudge in the direction of Valdez's private room. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was watching, and then she was off on her quest with an extra sway in her hips.
"This is One," he said. "I'm using a civilian to try to lure our HVT out of the private room, onto the dance floor. She's in a green dress, approaching now."
"I've got eyes on her," Dante said. Alex and Pedro echoed.
"We'll take her with us. She has friends at my nine o'clock, purple dress and the man with her in black. Two, secure them. We're taking them, too. I don't want any of them burned."
Cordero spoke in his earbud. "The meticulously planned order of operations wasn't good enough for you, One? You had to call an audible?"
Ranger could picture Cordero back at operations command, staring at their dots on the GPS screen and shaking his head. He had sounded miffed, but at the end of the day, Cordero trusted Ranger to make the right call, and Ranger trusted him to back it up.
Ranger ignored Cordero's comment. His hope was that they could get Gabriella far enough out onto the dance floor and then lure the guards after her so that they had less ground to cover to the door when the shit hit the fan. They'd never get their target out undetected, but that wasn't the goal. They needed to be seen taking her, and they needed Valdez and his men to notice the colors that Ranger and his team were wearing. But his hope was that he could get the guards at least halfway to the door, meaning half of the civilians would be safely behind them when guns started blazing.
Ranger's lady friend was using her charms on one of Valdez's guards, and he watched as the man grinned at her and nodded. She was granted entry to the private room and approached the couch where Gabriella was still occupied with her phone. Gabriella looked up at something the woman said, and she furrowed her brows. Listened. Then her brow raised, and her eyes shot to the dance floor. The lady friend pointed, and Ranger held back a grimace.
"We'll be made any minute," he said to his team. "Six, you've still got the left, and Three, you've got the right. Two, do you have the friends?"
"Affirm. They're with me, and I'm on your six."
"Exfil in place?" he asked.
Xander's affirmative came in his ear. He and Emilio would be idling around the corner from the club, waiting for their cue. Xander was driving the getaway vehicle and Emilio was in the diversion car.
He must've hit his first stroke of luck for the night, because Gabriella was following the curly-haired woman out of the private room. A guard stopped her with a hand on her arm and she turned to talk to him. His eyes scanned the dance floor. Ranger was confident that he and his men were practically invisible in the sea of bodies, but he was still surprised when the guard nodded and let Gabriella go.
Given that Valdez had been attached to Gabriella for nearly four years, Ranger would have thought that he'd be concerned for his girlfriend's wellbeing and would have made crystal clear the consequences for anything happening to her. But hey, that was just him.
"Three, anything from the hallway?"
"Not yet. I've got eyes on the fourth guard, but still no Valdez."
It was becoming clear that something more was going down than Valdez using the restroom, but it wasn't Ranger's job to sweat it. They weren't here for more intel on Valdez's business associates. Not this time, anyway. He kept his eyes on the target.
Gabriella was moving toward him, and two of the guards had broken off and were flanking her at a distance, assimilating into the crowd. He wanted to draw them further back toward the exit, so he caught the curly-haired woman's eye, winked at her, and started to maneuver his way back through the throng. His hips never lost the beat.
Although his eyes were on Gabriella, his attention was on the guards, so he didn't miss the moment they made him. They weren't incompetent - they could see that he was too interested in Gabriella, and he was wearing colors.
"Go, go, go," he said. He was already on the move, and had his hand wrapped around Gabriella's wrist. He wasn't sure how averse the guards would be to shooting her to get to him, so he shielded her with his body. She was resisting, trying to wrestle herself out of his grasp, but he held tight. His Glock was in his hand and trained on one of the guards who was bearing down on him. He knew his teammates would have the other guards. No shots had been fired yet, and only the people in his immediate vicinity were beginning to react to the situation, but before long it would be bedlam. He was hauling ass toward the exit, half dragging and half carrying his target.
A shot rang out to his left, followed by two more. The crowd was screaming, ducking, running for cover. The guard that Ranger had in his sights took a shot. He was still about twenty yards away, and was jostled by the crowd. The shot went wide. Ranger returned fire and the guard collapsed.
"Two, get the sister and the boyfriend out," he commanded. He didn't bother looking over at Dante to see that he would do as instructed.
"This is Three, I've got Valdez over here," Alex said. "He's firing."
"Three, this is TOC. You may wound, but do not kill. Repeat, do not take out Valdez."
Ranger was still shielding Gabriella, making slow progress toward the door. The crowd was panicked, and it was like swimming upstream through molasses. Gunfire rang out to his left, and he turned to see three men advancing toward him. "I've got more Reyes at my ten o'clock."
He returned fire and took out one. A shot zinged past the curly-haired woman, and she shrieked. She stood frozen between Ranger and Los Reyes. Ranger had Gabriella in one hand and his Glock in the other, so he used his body to knock her out of the way of the next shot, and he took it in the shoulder. He grit his teeth against the hot, sharp pain and took out another Reyes.
"One, I'm coming to you."
He made a half turn toward Dante and nodded his head toward the curly-haired woman. "Get her out."
Dante slung an arm around the woman's waist and pulled her along with him while they both retreated. Ranger fired at the last Reyes and watched him stumble, then focused on getting the hell out of there.
Pedro was at the door, covering their exit. Alex was still holding down Valdez, and Ranger called him back. They all spilled into the street and Ranger shoved Gabriella at Dante to get into the van along with the other civilians. He called out for Pedro to fall back, and Ranger covered them while everyone piled into the vehicle. He was the last one in, and pulled the door closed while a few more Reyes and Valdez's last guard stumbled out of the club. The van was peppered as they pulled away, but they had impact-resistant windows.
"Jackpot," Ranger confirmed for TOC. "Target secured. Team has been exfilled."
"Copy, One," Cordero said. "Good work."
Four hours later, Ranger exited the board room and walked down the hallway of the compound to take his shift on watch over Gabriella's room. His shoulder had been stitched up and the med ward had given him a sling. His men had a pool going for how long it would be before he ditched the sling. They'd tried to be covert about it, but Ranger knew that Dante's money was on six hours. Of course, that meant Ranger would wear it for as long as he needed just to give his friend shit.
The AAR was kept quick, and Ranger had managed not to bite Margeaux's head off in the debriefing room. Logically, he knew the bad intel about the private party wasn't her fault, and as a general rule he tried not to kill the messenger.
Dante looked up when Ranger turned the corner. "You coming to relieve me of babysitting duty?"
"Yeah. How's she doing?"
Dante shrugged. "Not bad, all considered. The victim's advocate was here, and explained the deal to her and what's going to happen from here. She hasn't gotten hysterical, so maybe that's coming, but I doubt it. She seems level-headed. It's been quiet in there for awhile, so maybe she's sleeping."
"Good for her."
"You know, sometimes when you pull shit like that on an op, I can't decide if you're bat-shit crazy or a fucking genius. How the hell did you even find that woman so fast, let alone convince her to nab Gabriella?"
"She found me. She nearly stuck her hand down my pants, and then I told her I wanted to bring Gabriella home with us for our own private party."
Dante barked out a laugh. "Of course. Only you, jefe."
"Go get some shut-eye. We're wheels-up in four hours, 06:00."
"What are you going to tell your Rangeman guys back home about your new accessory?" Dante asked, nodding to his sling.
Ranger smiled. "You're just trying to get me to take it off so you'll win the pool. Nice try, but no dice. I won't tell them anything, because they know better than to ask."
Dante turned to head back down the hallway toward the barracks, but hesitated. He turned back to face Ranger. "We've never been that close to Valdez before."
Ranger eyed his second-in-command. "I know."
"I really wish it could be him in that room."
Ranger nodded toward the end of the hall, and Dante followed him. On the off chance that she wasn't sleeping, he didn't want to risk Gabriella overhearing anything. He weighed his words carefully and kept his voice low.
"I hear you. But this is a step in the right direction," he said. "Intelligence said we needed Gabriella for when we finally drag the cabrón to trial, and I get that. A pretty young woman with firsthand knowledge of Valdez's atrocities will go a long way with juries. In the meantime, we've still got bits and pieces of intel coming in that are connecting the dots, so when we do take down Valdez, we'll take his whole operation down with him."
Dante stared down at his boot for a moment, but then nodded. He turned and retreated to the barracks while Ranger took up his stance outside Gabriella's room.
He sympathized with Dante. Dante had been on this team for longer than Ranger, and they'd been tracking Nestor Valdez for nearly as long as either of them could remember. Valdez was slippery - but then, you're not a successful cartel leader if you're easily pinned-down. He was good at staying invisible, and the few leads that the team had managed to gain over the years had a way of evaporating.
Dante had been on guard duty the night the team had captured Frederico Esquivel. Esquivel had been Valdez's right hand, and his capture was intended to be a checkmate for Valdez. And it would have been, until Los Reyes managed to infiltrate the compound, incapacitate Dante, and kill Esquivel before the team could extradite him. Ranger knew that Dante carried guilt about that night. Hell, Ranger did, too. But he was used to guilt.
At least two of the Reyes that Ranger had fired on tonight were critical hits. He added two more lives to his mental tally. He couldn't justify accounting for saving the life of the woman he'd put in danger, so she didn't factor into the score. One step forward, two steps back. It was the story of his life.
###
Nearly twenty-four hours later, Ranger was ravenous, exhausted, and his shoulder was killing him. He'd caught a couple hours of sleep on the plane, but then had been stuck on hand-holding duty while Gabriella was transferred over to the Marshals. He'd been given pain meds, but he'd declined them, needing to stay sharp for the transport.
He pulled into the underground parking garage at Rangeman and eased into his familiar parking spot. He turned off the engine and sat looking at the elevator. He needed food. He needed sleep. He needed some heavy-duty ibuprofen.
All of those things could be found upstairs in his apartment. He'd had this same homecoming dozens of times over the past few years. He would head upstairs, drop his bags. He didn't even have to deal with unpacking; Ella would handle that in the morning. He'd help himself to a sandwich that would be waiting for him in his refrigerator. He'd fall into bed and would lie awake for a couple hours, readjusting to home. Or whatever semblance he had. He'd have a fitful nights' sleep, waking every half hour on high alert. And then he'd get up in the morning and restart his normal life.
He couldn't get excited about any of that. Not the empty apartment awaiting him, nor the artfully-prepared sandwich, nor the cool, crisp sheets on his bed. Ranger restarted the car. The clock on the dash read 2:45 AM. He pulled back out of the garage and swung onto Hamilton.
He planned on using the drive to convince himself that this wasn't a good idea. And then, when he parked in the lot, he told himself he'd just sit there for a few minutes and make sure all was quiet. And then, when he let himself into the apartment, he told himself he'd just check on her quickly, quietly, before he let himself back out. And then, when she awoke and asked him if he'd like to stay, he told himself it was just this once.