Stephanie's POV
Our trip to Disney was exhilarating and exhausting. Grandma Edna arrived in time to travel with us. She brought a copy of the Trenton Times to show me how they reported Mom's death. As Chief of Police, Joe Juniak stated the facts as they happened. It surprised me that the Trenton Times didn't blame me for Mooch or Anthony Morelli's actions. Juniak said that Mooch and Anthony acted without provocation from me. Despite popular belief, my uncle and the mayor don't sway the Trenton Times. The usual reporter responsible for writing scintillating stories about me was out of town on another story. His lies and exaggerations weren't in the article. It was refreshing for a change. I suspected Grandma had everything to do with the missing reporter. She probably concocted a rumour that I was in Ohio or Michigan, wreaking havoc on some unsuspecting man.
I'm thankful Bobby rented a wheelchair to push me around the theme park. Growing three babies is hard work. I had Angie and Mary Alice sitting on my lap a few times as Bobby or one of the other men pushed us around. My arms wrapped around their waists kept them from falling.
Isabel, my fabulous sister-in-law, mapped all the washrooms before we arrived. She organized the rides according to restroom locations. Sure, we backtracked a few times, but I appreciated her effort. It made it more enjoyable for me.
On the drive back to Miami, I asked, "Girls, what was the best part of your trip?"
Mary Alice surprised me by answering, "When Uncle Tank lifted that little girl over his head to help her find her parents." Thankfully, the child's parents were only ten feet away from our group. The mother was frantic until she saw Tank holding her daughter, who squealed when she saw her mother.
"And they stayed with our group for extra protection," Angie adds, nodding. "Will we see them again?"
Smiling, I reply, "Yes. Do you remember meeting the guy with the tattoo on his forehead?" I wait for the girls to nod. "Cal is the little girl's dad. The man with the family is the uncle."
"Is the man Cal's brother?" Angie asks.
"In a way. It's Cal's brother-in-law. The man is the woman's brother," I explain.
"Cal is on a mission with the Navy," Tank adds.
My phone rings when we're a few miles outside of Miami. I don't recognize the number, but I decided to answer it anyway. "Hello," I shyly say.
"Hi. My name is Bethany. I'm looking for Steve Conti. Is he there?" the young girl asks.
"No," I reply. My spidey senses are going off the charts. I motioned for Hector to arrange my flight to LA. "Can I pass along a message?"
"Yup," she replies, popping the p. "Can you tell him I'm pregnant with his baby?"
"Sure," I say before hanging up. "What the fuck was that?" I mumble.
"Who called?" Angie asks.
"Bethany," I reply, earning a Burg-worthy eye roll from Angie.
"She's crazy," Mary Alice says.
"I don't trust her," Angie adds. "She kept flirting with Dad."
"How old is Bethany?" I wonder.
"Fifteen," Angie replies.
"Do you know her last name?" Tank asks.
"Stanton," Angie answers.
Hector calls Rangeman. Speaking rapid Spanish, he explains everything to Rodriguez. I know Steve loved Valerie and wouldn't cheat on her. However, I'd be lying if I said the call hadn't affected me or cast doubt on Steve's loyalty to Valerie. What man would risk his life to save a woman he no longer loved?
Tank redirects the trip to approach the private airfield. The other vehicles in our convoy follow us. I wait for the car to stop before opening the door. After hugging Angie and Mary Alice, I ordered Hector to take care of them and asked Tank and Bobby to accompany me.
I know Bethany is lying. But how do I prove it? The answer lies in Bethany's medical file.
~~~~~~~
Ranger's POV
When Lester, Ram and I arrived at Pelucita, Donde Tula in Jardin, I knew we were in the wrong place. We travelled north of Jardin and contacted the home base for instructions.
"The intel is faulty," I snarled when General Rogers answered the phone.
"I'll get Rangeman to look into it," Rogers replies. "Maintain your position until I validate the intel." Rogers hung up before I could respond.
Rogers returns the call with the new coordinates. It places our contact, who transposed the coordinates, in Tarso. I end the call and look around for a vehicle. Lester spots one on the side of the road, a few miles north of our location. We grin and fist bump. Ram tosses his duffle over his shoulder and follows us to the car.
It takes Lester a few minutes to start the vehicle. I imagine Stephanie sitting at my desk in Rangeman, wondering if I have a car to reach the correct destination. We only have a few hours to get there before he leaves. His insight is vital for us to neutralize the drug kingpin, Diego Ortiz, and locate where the man stored the contraband.
The job is tedious, and I would rather be at home with my wife. I still have a few more years on my contract. I've never regretted signing up for high-compensation missions more than at this moment. Stephanie will have to raise the triplets whenever I'm away.
"Stop worrying," Lester says as we climb into the vehicle. He sweeps for listening devices. "Everything will work out. The others will assist."
I nod and retreat into my mercenary persona. Stressing over my wife and babies won't help this situation. I need to focus on the job. Hopefully, we get out of the area unscathed. Stephanie will be upset if things go wrong.
The car sputters to a stop a few miles away from our destination. Lester shrugs and climbs out of the vehicle to see if the previous owner left a fuel container in the trunk. I turn to watch him raise the lid and immediately slam it down.
"Sorry, we have to hike from here," Lester sadly says.
Ram and I shrugged and exited the vehicle. We sling our packs on our backs and hike toward the coordinates from Stephanie. I smile whenever I think about my wife. She's my Wonder Woman.
My intuition is screaming as we near the location of our contact. "Fall back," I order. Lester and Ram quickly survey the area to find a hiding spot. They take to the trees, letting the canopy of leaves hide them from view. Twilight settles as Lester whistles his birdcall.
The coast is clear for me to approach Jorge Ramirez. His name is really John Richards. I shake my head at the cover name. Why did he use the initials of his real name for his undercover identity?
Jorge isn't aware of his surroundings as I sneak up behind him and take the intel I need to complete my mission. He doesn't notice when I shove the files in my bag. Jorge's eyes are staring at a spot several feet in front of him.
I slowly back away and climb into a tree. Just as I settle on a branch below Lester, gunfire erupts. Bullets are shot into the trees, barely missing us. One misses me by an inch and thunks into the trunk behind me. I unholster my gun and return fire. Lester and Ram assist.
Once the gunfire seizes, we climb from the tree to check the area. Twelve men lie dead, spread over a twenty-foot radius. Jorge is a casualty, having got caught in the crossfire. Lester took photographs of the dead men as I checked their pockets for anything of value. I reach the man farthest from the tree and shake my head. Ram looks over my shoulder and chuckles.
"Pack up. We're going home," I order.
"What? Why?" Lester asks.
"One of you nailed our target," I reply, pointing to the man at my feet.
"That would be me," Ram confesses. "I aimed for the man wearing an eyepatch over his right eye."
"You shot him in the left eye," I laugh. "He was our target."
"How can you be so sure?" Ram asks.
"I recognized him because I stabbed him in the right eye and removed the tip of his right ear." We collected samples for DNA comparisons to confirm we neutralized the target.
"Do you have the cool packs?" Lester asks.
Ram removes the styrofoam container and cold packs he received from Bobby. He squeezed the packs to release the chemicals to cause it to get cool enough to protect the samples. I stepped aside to arrange our extraction. My contact gave me the coordinates. I checked my watch and determined we had to clock it to make it in time.
"We have two hours to get to the pickup zone," I announce.
Lester and Ram quickly packed our samples and left the dead to the wildlife. We escape the area containing blood and rotting flesh before the jaguars descend upon us.
"Are we finished our mission?" Lester quietly asks. I shake my head. We're finished with phase one. After we sort through the intel from Jorge, I mean John, we have to determine if phase two is necessary. Discovering how the drugs are making their way into the US is vital in stopping the chain. I hope our mission ends upon discovering the transportation method.
"It's possible," I cryptically reply. Lester nods and acknowledges there could be more to our mission parameters.
We ran for several miles before slowing our pace. The mosquitos are relentless. They buzz around our heads, hoping to land in our hair or on our faces to feast on our blood. Ram removes the repellent spray from his pack. I close my eyes and hold my breath as he sprays my face.
Lester, Ram and I continue our hike. I hear the chopper blades whipping through the air in the distance. We pick up the pace before we miss our ride to the naval ship waiting for us off the shore. I watch Lester and Ram's backs as they run to the helicopter, hovering a few feet off the ground. When the coast is clear, I run towards the chopper. I breathe a sigh of relief when the pilot flies us out of Colombia.
On the naval vessel, I pour over the intel from John Richards. He uncovered a remarkable amount of details about the inner workings of Diego's cartel. I suddenly realized John Richards was deep undercover. It wasn't mentioned in our brief.
Ram and Lester are furious when they read between the lines. I should have brought more men. Things near Tarso could have gone from bad to worse in seconds. I'm thankful Lester and Ram, my two best sharpshooters, agreed to accompany me.
I rub my arm when it stings. When I pull my hand away, I notice the blood. I sigh and leave the room with Lester and Ram staring at my back. "Manoso?" a naval officer asks.
"Which way to the infirmary?" I ask.
"Follow me," he says.
The medic raises a brow as he examines my arm. "Do the others need medical assistance?" he asks.
"No," I reply.
"It's only a graze, but you still needed a few stitches," he says. "Be mindful of your injury." He hands me antibiotics to prevent infection. I tucked the bottle in my cargo pants pocket and left the infirmary.
"We have to go back," Lester says, pointing to the document in the centre of the table.
I read the paperwork and agree with his assessment. It's time to contact Frank Plum about the mission. He will contact General Rogers. I hate when one of our own betrays our country and the freedoms soldiers like myself have fought to maintain.
"Plum," Frank answers, picking up the call after the second ring.
"Sorry for disrupting your evening, sir," I reply.
"Go ahead," Frank insists. I explain everything we found in the intel. Frank growls under his breath. "Do you need more intel?" Frank asks.
"Yes. Unbiased intel," I reply.
"She needs to pay for the treachery," Frank says. "Return to Colombia tomorrow afternoon. I should have the background intel in the morning." Frank hangs up and contacts Rangeman for the intel.
I know Stephanie will find everything there is to know about Jeanne Ellen Burrows.