A/N: Oh, Jade, Jade, Jade. Out of the frying pan and right back into the fire. Luckily her BAE got away and (hopefully) has a plan.
What am I forgetting...OH YEAH!
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
And if you don't celebrate Christmas, well...Happy Hanukah, Kickin' Kwanzaa, Rock Rollin' Ramadan, Happy Winter Solstice for our beloved pagans (we see you) and heck let's throw in a Happy Festivus (for the rest of us).
Also, let me give super huge special thanks to longtime FanFic pal and sometimes collaborator, Invader Johnny.
And finally, ScottyBgood; love the reviews!
Now on with the show!
Talmadge looked at the seemingly impenetrable building that loomed like a mountain, daring him and his men to overtake it.
"We need to deactivate those fire doors. As long as they're down, we can't get through with our equipment."
He looked past the group to his gofer, Dillon.
"Son, any word from the National Guard?"
He shook his head.
"They are occupied, sir. They said maybe in a few hours."
Talmadge closed his eyes, feeling defeated.
"This is frustrating! Even with my SWAT and their ramming vehicle, I can't just go barging in. I have no clue where the hostages are. The walls could come down on them and I can't have that!"
"Sir?"
Talmadge turned around and saw two suits walking up to the scene.
"Oh, no," he grumbled.
The taller man took out his ID from his jacket. His partner followed his lead.
"Hello, I'm Agent Spencer, this is Agent Tracy, FBI."
Ken wondered if there was going to be a full moon tonight. He looked up for a second. He'd have confirmation once it got dark.
"I'm Deputy Chief Ken Talmadge," he said, reluctantly extending his hand. The shorter fellow shook it while the clearly senior member, Spencer, did not. "To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"
Agent Spencer surveyed the scene.
"It seems we have a hostage situation, is that right?"
Talmadge was not in the mood for this song and dance. He wasn't a fan of butting heads with the Sheriff Department. But the Feds were on a whole different level. They were universally seen as untrustworthy by the boys in blue.
"Yes but we don't seem to be dealing with terrorists or anything akin to that."
Both agents looked quizzically at the man.
"What gives you that idea?" asked Agent Tracy.
"The lack of any kind of demands. They have been held up in there for two hours and no communication whatsoever. Plus, earlier we had been dispatched by 911 for a missing woman and a double homicide. When two officers inquired some suspicious characters, all hell broke loose. This reeks of desperation."
"And yet, they got one over on you," smirked Agent Spencer. "Maybe they're more clever than you think."
Talmadge saw the glowing red California sun finally disappear over the horizon and the skies' colors began to darken.
(This is going to be a long night.)
Tori and Jordan snuck out of the office when they saw the coast was clear.
They knew that they would be looking for them. But they wouldn't get far without getting past the ground floor. That emergency shield surrounding this section of the hotel locked them in with them. It would only be a matter of time until they were found.
Catching a glimpse of one of the men walking their direction, they dropped to the floor and army crawled to the stairwell door. When the guy was out of view, they tried the metal door but it wouldn't budge an inch.
"Fuck," huffed Tori in a hushed tone.
She then noticed Jordan looking up at the ceiling. Or to be more precise, at the air vent.
"Hey Tori?" asked Jordan.
"Yeah?"
"You feeling limber?"
"Look what I found!"
O'Reilly turned to see Burke looking rather proud of himself, dragging a woman by the wrist, his gun aimed squarely at her.
"Guess you're our lucky winner," he said to Jade. "Out of all the hostages, you made it to the VIP section."
"Suck my dick!" she seethed.
It was kind of a favorite tactic of Jade's. Don't just hurl an insult at somebody who you loathe but say something confusing.
"Oh, feisty" commented O'Reilly. "Well, what are you Burke an animal? Pull up a chair for the lady."
Goatee dragged her to the other side of the control room and pushed her hard onto a rolling chair. He held her down by her shoulders. This creep was closer than ever; she could smell his breath and it made her want to throw up. O'Reilly approached them with duct tape and wrapped it around Jade. Now her and the little black chair were one.
"There, isn't that better" O'Reilly said.
Jade lunged her neck as far as she could and bit her teeth, making a clacking sound. She would bite his face off if given the chance.
"Yeah, better we keep this one under wraps," said Burke. "Sorry, hon. But I need to have a private conversation with my colleague here."
Burke then spun the chair around and kicked the back of it, sending Jade helplessly across the room and slamming against the wall. The pain in her shoulder was intense and she let out a guttural scream.
They ignored her and exited the room, shutting the door behind them.
"Any updates?" asked O'Reilly
O'Reilly checked his phone for any texts or missed calls.
"Nothing yet," Burke replied.
"This is nuts," O'Reilly sighed. "I mean Esperanza said he'd catch Carlos and Franco says that he has our escape covered? And so far no Carlos and we are still here. I mean where is everybody?"
O'Reilly was getting anxious. He didn't like all of these plates spinning at once. What began as a simple operation: a small unit coordinating an enclosed space to take out one guy had completely fallen apart.
Burke put down his duffel and started rummaging through it.
"What you doing?" asked O'Reilly.
"Nothing. Just coming up with a plan C."
"Plan C?"
"Uh-huh. Plan A was carrying out the mission discreetly and walking out undetected. Plan B is whatever the hell that Dutch prick has in mind. But I'm not relying on his ass so I am initiating Plan C."
Burke then took out a couple of large bricks and a bag of fuses.
"As in C-4."
(And people say I over-prepared) thought O'Reilly.
"What are you doing with this?" he asked.
Burke had an unsettling twinkle in his eye.
"Plenty more where that came from. Follow me."
O'Reilly reluctantly did as asked and walked with Burke to a supply closet.
It was a larger bag than the last one. And when they walked in, an additional bag was behind that one.
"You smuggled all of this in here?" O'Reilly asked.
Burke nodded.
"Yeah before I met up with Franco I planted these here. Man the security in this place is weak."
"But why?"
"Truth?"
O'Reilly nodded.
"When researching this place, I got a taste of the sort of clientele that frequent here. Some high rollers; I mean big game. Anyhow, there is a floor safe that is somewhere in this hotel. I have a source that said some men with mob connections stay here and they make a point to stow their money and paraphernalia here for safe keeping. Imagine a bank for criminals."
"Or a really fancy mattress to stuff your money in," O'Reilly mused.
"Who would suspect a high class establishment as this? The cops still thinking bars and nightclubs and restaurants. But a hotel?"
O'Reilly had a revelation.
"So that's why cell reception has been dicey here and there. I bet it's to drown out police radios."
"Maybe," Burke said, stroking his facial hair. "Or maybe that safe, which is probably behind a thick wall, probably metal, is what's really interfering with the signal."
"Triangulate the interference and you may find the treasure."
Burke put his arm around his buddy.
"We find the treasure."
"What about the others?" asked O'Reilly.
"Eh, fuck 'em."
O'Reilly stared at the massive bags, imagining the kind of fire power they would unleash.
"Even if we find it, how do we get away?"
"Not to worry," smiled Burke. "I made a point to bring more than I need. I like having...options."
"Any options come to mind?"
Burke nodded.
"Indeed. And let me tell you, O'Reilly. It's gonna be a BIG."
Tori got the final boost she needed to fully shimmy her lower half through the open vent. Jordan set up a chair since nobody was around to boost herself up. Tori shifted backward so that she was facing the gaping hole in case Jordan needed a hand.
The redhead stood on the chair, which wobbled a little. The chair plus her height made her head reach the inside. Jordan reached up, grabbing Tori's right hand. Once she had her bearings, Jordan gripped Tori's other hand.
"Okay, on three. You hold with all you got while I push off."
"Got it," Tori nodded.
"One," Jordan said.
"Two,"
They both said "Three" and the tall woman successfully got her upper half into the duct.
"Off," said Jordan. "That was the hard part."
Faint thumping made them freeze.
"What's that?" asked Jordan.
Tori's hair stood on end.
"Oh shit!" she whispered. "Jordan hurry!"
It was unmistakable now. They were footsteps.
The redhead used all of her upper body to crawl deeper into the metal sleeve. Tori backed up as far as needed while keeping a grip on her partner.
The footsteps grew louder and louder.
"Fuck-Fuck-Fuck-Fuck..."
Jordan grunted as quietly as she could getting past her ankles and finally her size 10's made it inside.
They deftly replaced the grate back in position just a second before the door flung open and Esperanza entered. Our officers couldn't make out very much through the slats in the vent. They held their respective breaths to not be detected.
He stood, scanning the room like a machine. Satisfied that nobody was around, he exited and his footsteps faded.
Tori and Jordan looked at each other, relieved that they just evaded recapture.
"So which way you think?" asked Tori.
Jordan motioned to her left, in the direction of the door they had entered previously.
"I noticed the duct work extended that way. If I'm right this will lead to the next floor."
"There's just only one problem," Tori said.
"What?"
"I'm gonna have to shimmy backwards."
Jordan gave her a look.
"Listen, Vega last time you were in a space this tight you were by yourself."
Tori didn't need to be reminded of that time she was buried alive and survived in a 1 in a million shot.
"I guess that's an upgrade."
"Ha-ha, now let's move."
Carlos had to rest; his calves were on fire. He had been running since he was spotted by El Fantasma and his crony.
He still had trouble processing how his only brother would sink this low to rub him out.
"It's just business," he would say. "Nothing personal."
(Like Hell.)
He just wanted out. But Renato wouldn't allow it. He had always made things difficult for him.
And it all started with her.
Ten years ago when he met that woman from Colombia.
She was there as an ambassador for the drug lord to meet with the Mexican cartel. They had met over a long lunch and was able to negotiate a deal that would be amicable for both sides. They provide the inroads to America and they divvy the profits in a manner that was fair. The Colombians were the manufacturers and the Mexicans were the distributors. They, too were a family business so they got along pretty well.
Carlos, however, was extremely smitten by the raven haired goddess from Colombia. Her name was Lina. He had asked her out for some drinks following the meeting. She had intended to leave that night but she found herself staying the rest of the week. But her phone blew up and she reluctantly had to go.
The two remained in touch, talking daily and sending letters.
It was a long distance relationship for the most part but it blossomed into a hot and heavy affair. When they did meet up there were sparks. They both kept busy with their respective businesses, leaving to see one another whenever they could.
It didn't take long for Renato to catch wind of this and he made some calls to the bosses in Colombia. Next thing they knew, Lina was sent away to Canada to oversee the North American pipeline of narcotics. It broke Carlos and when he found out the truth he confronted his brother.
Renato said that he was looking distracted and his sordid affair was getting in the way of the family business. Besides, its best they kept their suppliers at arm's length. They didn't want to get overly friendly with the Colombians. That might alienate their other suppliers. It's just bad business.
Carlos was infuriated but it got worse.
An email arrived in Carlos' inbox and it was from Lina. She said that she missed him and it was cold up where she was, which she couldn't stand. But there was more. She found out that she was pregnant and since she had not been with anyone else in the last five years, he was absolutely the father. Rather than being overjoyed, Carlos was overcome with sadness. He couldn't be with the woman of his dreams and now his child.
Time passed and the baby was born: a boy which she named Lucas. She said she dreaded the day when he would be old enough to ask about his father and she wouldn't know what to say. The pain was just too much and Carlos promised her that he would not grow up without a father.
He would find a way.
So now, having staged a convincing enough demise; Carlos fled to America and made it as far as Los Angeles. He went by an alias (Juan) so as to not arouse the ears of anyone in the drug trade that a very influential figure from the cartel was traveling alone.
Everything was arranged. He discreetly moved his savings into an account that was completely digital. He could sign checks and use ATM's and not have to deal with the rigamarole of tellers and bank managers. He had very well made (and expensive) identification crafted so he could remain in the country and under his new name. Then he would make his way to Canada to reunite with Lina and meet his son.
It would have all worked hadn't the calamity unfolded mere hours ago.
(I've got to get out. Got to survive. I will see my son. She won't be alone anymore. I swear it!)