Xavier: Vampires in Europe (Vampires in America Book 14) Page 16

  She walked over and checked that the back hatch had been secured behind Alícia’s defender, not wanting to lose anyone. Then she slid into the passenger seat and eyed the driver. “What’s your name?”

  “Marcos Quintana, Commander.”

  Layla snorted at the polite address. “Just call me Layla, kid.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  She sighed, certain she’d been that young once, though she couldn’t remember when. “Okay, Marcos. You know the Vista Bonica?”

  “Yes.” A blush pinked the golden skin on his cheeks.

  Nope, Layla reconsidered. She’d never been that young. She sighed. “Just get us there. No need to speed,” she added when the car jerked into motion. “We don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves. And you kids in the back,” she called over her shoulder. “Cell phones off.”

  She had Marcos drive past the motel first, while she called Brian.

  “Cap, where—”

  “I just drove past. Are we clear to come in?”

  “We?”

  “Long story. Are we?”

  “Yes. Two rooms on the east end, ground floor.”

  “Be there in five.”

  “Okay you guys, listen up,” she said in her best commanding officer voice. “Once we hit that parking lot, we need to move. Do what I say, exactly as I say it. Same goes for whoever opens the door to that room.”

  “What room?” a girl’s voice asked from what sounded like the third row.

  “It’ll be obvious once we get there. Your only duty right now is to do what I say, when I say it. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” echoed in several voices.

  “Good enough. Marcos, turn into the parking lot and go all the way to the end.” She pointed. “Park on the far side of that black SUV.” She glanced at the teen to see him nodding, eyes blinking rapidly, throat moving as he swallowed his nerves. “Easy stuff, kid. Don’t worry.”

  “Okay.”

  The van bumped over the rough driveway, and Marcos had to swerve around some very serious potholes, but soon enough they were pulling to a stop, just as the door in front of them opened and Brian stood waiting. He had a forbidding presence, Layla had to admit, all six feet, four inches of him, standing there in full battle dress, bristling with weapons.

  “Everyone out,” she called. “No squeals, no screams. Quick and quiet, stay low.”

  In the doorway, Brian stood back as the teens scurried past him into the room, while River barked orders in Spanish with a bit of British accent leaking through. Layla meanwhile snagged the keys from Marcos as he bailed out, locked the minivan’s doors, and followed them in.

  “Good to have you here, Captain,” Brian said as he closed the door.

  River was hustling the teens into an adjoining room. “You don’t move without my permission,” he ordered. “Head’s over there. The bathroom,” he added in a longsuffering tone, then explained, “Soft drinks in the cooler, sandwiches, too. Now stay. And don’t touch that fucking door. Got it?”

  There was a chorus of agreement, and then Riv walked back to rejoin the others. He was tall and deceptively lean, his brown hair still worn military short. He was good-looking enough that she’d seen one or two of the girls giving him wide eyes, and Layla loved him like a brother. But he was a fiend for neatness and always had sanitizing wipes in his pack. He was also a damn good pilot and could fly anything with wings or without. He’d been flying a helicopter for the British SSA, when she and Brian had crossed paths with him at a bar in Istanbul. And when they’d decided to put together their own team, he’d been the first one they’d called.

  Kerry of the lucky hunches was sitting in the first room, hunched over a computer, with a paper map of the town sitting next to her. She was five feet, four inches of muscle, with a sniper’s eye and a sixth degree black belt in Shotokan karate. Her blond hair was cut short, and she had soulful brown eyes that she frequently used to her advantage.

  “Anything from recon?” Layla asked, after exchanging greetings with everyone and rescuing her weapons from the makeshift purse. She settled back against the headboard and accepted the cold soda River brought her, while ignoring his frown of disapproval over the feet she had propped on the bed.

  Kerry nodded without looking up. “We followed a different gossip trail than Brian, but ended up at the same house.” She looked up at Layla abruptly. “What are we doing with them?” she asked, jerking her head toward the other room.

  “They were out looking on their own. I decided they’d be safer with us. Once we have the littles, we’ll take them all home.”

  Kerry shrugged. Shit always happened and they dealt with it. It was what they did. “Riv, why don’t you provide details, so I can finish this?”

  “Right. Kerry and I tracked the van, figuring that was our best lead. If it’s used all the time to shuttle the kids to school, people in this town have to know it, recognize it, know where it’s supposed to be, and where it’s not. We wore civvies, just another vacationing couple stopping in for coffee and pastry. A lot of people were doing the same, talking to each other, and we listened. Word’s gotten out about the missing kids. Mostly via pals at the school, where their absence had been noticed. Apparently, gossip begins at an early age. Some kid was in the director’s office, and overhead a conversation. Another boy’s mom came to pick him up, worried her kid would be next. And on and on.

  “Upshot is word got out and people noticed when the van drove by a place it shouldn’t be. One guy, former military, noticed the shattered window, the blood on the door. A gran paid attention because the kids were too quiet. Gotta admit, I was impressed.”

  “So you followed the bread crumbs,” Layla said. “What’d you find?”

  “Brian, waiting for us. He got there first.”

  “That’s because I didn’t stay to finish my coffee before acting on what I’d heard.”

  River just shrugged.

  “Where’s the house?” Layla asked.

  “South of here,” Riv replied. “Just past the town proper. Van was concealed under an awning. They tried to camouflage it with branches and shit. Maybe they thought we had air support.” He made a what-the- fuck gesture and continued. “Their camo might have passed a casual look, but we’re not casual, Cap. Small house,” he continued. “Windows all covered with blinds mostly, but some brown paper taped over, probably where they didn’t have anything else. I moved in for a closer look while Brian headed back here to meet you, and Kerry kept watch on the street. Got one good look where the curtains didn’t quite close. I don’t know your kids,” he said, meeting Layla’s gaze. “But there were too many little ones in the room I saw. Most of them were or had been crying, and all of them looked scared and huddled together. Pissed me off, but definitely our PC,” he finished, using the abbreviation for “precious cargo” which was what people like those on her team used to describe the hostages they’d been sent to rescue.

  “See anyone else?” she asked.

  “No older kids, or adults, either. But I couldn’t see much beyond one part of one room. It needs a closer look, but I’d say at least some of your missing are there.” He tapped the phone which was attached to the cross-strapped gear belt over his chest. “I set up a couple mini-cams front and back. Quality will be for shit, but we should pick up if anyone else arrives or if they try to move the kids.”

  Layla glanced at Brian. “What do you think?”

  “I say we go in, take down any hostiles, and get those kids home.”

  “Agreed, but I’d sure love to grab at least one of those fuckers alive and talking. I don’t care who it is, but one of them is going to squeal. Understood?” She looked around, received three identical nods, and stood. “Kerry, I assume that’s the map you’re studying. How far is this place? And what’s the fastest route there? We
’ll need to drive, so we can transport the kids fast.”

  “Better to drive anyway. All of us geared up would draw too much attention. Kidnappers might have friends looking out for them. Ten minute drive, fifteen tops. Only one traffic signal.”

  “Right,” Layla said. “We leave in ten. Riv, everyone’s on comms. Make it happen.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay, we’re on the clock. Let’s move.”

  While the others did last minute gear checks, she stepped into the second room and faced down the teenagers. “Kill me now,” she thought as she met a variety of expressions, from frightened to bored, and all the way to sulky. What the fuck?

  “We’re heading out to recover the PC—”

  “What does that mean?” Marcos demanded. His was the sulky face.

  She blinked, not understanding the question at first. “Oh. Precious cargo. PC. The kids.” She eyed him. “What’d you think I meant?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered, not meeting her gaze.

  “Uh huh. Anyway, we’re heading out, and you all are staying here. You can sit in the other room, too. But you are not to touch anything,” she said, enunciating every word. “You understand?”

  “Can we touch the TV?” someone asked in a snide tone. The others snickered, but no one claimed responsibility.

  Layla rolled her eyes. “Sure. Although I expect the only channel it gets is porn, which you can watch, as long as it’s free. But if I get a huge movie bill when we check out, or if any parents complain, someone’s going to pay.”

  “Can we turn our cell phones back on now?” someone asked.

  Layla gave them a hard stare, to make sure they were paying attention. “Are you safe at home in your little bed? No, you are not. So cell phones may be on, but ringers are off.” She glanced over her shoulder and found her team about ready to depart. “All right. We’re leaving. Remember what I said. Lock the door, don’t answer it, don’t even call out.” She turned away as Brian opened the door and led the way to the SUV, but then she swung back at the last moment to say, “And no fucking on the beds.”

  Ten seconds later, she was in the SUV and pulling the door shut as River sped them out of the parking lot and on the road to undertake one of the most important rescues they’d ever had to do.

  Chapter Ten

  THE BIG SUVS THAT Layla’s team habitually rented when necessary weren’t as common in Europe as in the US, but they weren’t unheard of either. Money was money, everywhere in the world. One didn’t call Hertz for that kind of rental, however. Fortunately, the team did enough work around the world that they had a network of suppliers, including one very happy contact in Barcelona, who’d been waiting for them with a Mercedes SUV that could comfortably hold the four of them and their gear. Layla wasn’t as broadly muscled as the guys, but her legs made up for it. Kerry, on the other hand, was pretty and petite, and utterly harmless. Yeah, right. Bad guys frequently took her as an easy mark, which was the last mistake they made, before she killed them. Pound for pound, she was stronger than any of the guys, and vicious as a rabid squirrel.

  They parked at a house across the street from where the children were being held. Brian had verified it was uninhabited, but not vacant. The area was mostly upscale, with walls surrounding several homes just like it. Layla reasoned these were primarily vacation homes for wealthy owners from all over Europe. Winter visitors from the northern countries were common in Spain. The one they’d chosen as a staging location had a good-sized wall around the front, with no gate across the driveway. River pulled onto the circular drive in front of the house, taking them out of sight from the street, and stopping under several good-sized shade trees. He then maneuvered the SUV until they were facing outward for a quick exit, without sacrificing any of their cover.

  “I want to see the house before we make any plans,” Layla said quietly.

  They all wore standard Bluetooth comms, which were uplinked to a private communications satellite network, for which they paid an access fee. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth every dime and had saved their asses more than once.

  “No movement on the cams I set up,” River commented. “Not since we found the place.”

  “Okay. You and me, River. Let’s go.”

  They didn’t bother concealing their weapons when they made their way back to the kidnappers’ house. They hadn’t seen a single person on the street or in a yard. The hottest part of the day was fast approaching and, being sensible people, the Spanish favored the siesta. The traditional start of that practice wouldn’t be for two hours yet, but for stay-at-home parents and grandparents, especially with younger children, they’d already have called the little ones in for a light lunch before sending them off to sleep.

  Nonetheless, she and River paused in the shade of a bent pine tree near where the van had been concealed, in front of a closed and locked garage. It made Layla wonder if the kidnappers had broken into the house, knowing no one would be around. What were they doing in there? Why take the kids, only to sit on them so close to the Fortalesa?

  River caught her gaze and gestured toward the back of the house, then took off low and quiet, leading Layla to the window where he’d sighted the children.

  Once there, he pointed at the right window, then held back, maintaining watch while Layla drifted over to take a look. She found it pretty much as River had described, except none of the children were awake any longer. They slept huddled together for comfort, visibly sweating, which told her the air-conditioning wasn’t on, and supported her idea that the kidnappers had no right to be in the house.

  There wasn’t much else she could do at that moment, except watch, so she rejoined River and silently gestured that she wanted to do a complete circle of the building before heading back to the others. With that accomplished, and no new information gathered, they slipped through an opening in the hedge to the next yard, ducked around patio furniture to reach the far side, then snuck between houses to the street. They crossed, and arrived at the house where they’d parked by walking through an unlocked pedestrian gate which led to a curving path to the front door.

  Between the ungated driveway and this unlocked gate, it was obvious that the owners had the front wall for privacy from the street, not for security.

  “So what’s the plan?” Brian asked, while Layla and River downed cold bottles of water. The humidity was killer.

  “I counted nine kids in that room—that should be all of them.”

  “SUV’s going to be crowded on the way back,” River commented. “You planning to use the van?”

  “No. Too many people noticed it this morning, and I don’t want anyone seeing us drive away. Besides, it’s not far to the motel, and we have the older kids’ minivan there. They had some empty space. One of us can drive that, and take the three biggest hostages, along with the teens. We’ll take the littlest ones in the SUV, on our laps if we need to.”

  When the others nodded, she said, “All right. We go in fast and quiet, enter through the back. Kerry and River, you go straight for the kids. Brian and I will search the house and eliminate any hostiles. But I want to keep one alive for questioning back at the Fortalesa.”

  “You don’t want to just do it while we’re there, then leave the body?” Kerry asked.

  Layla eyed her. “Is that a question, or something else?”

  “Just a question. I’m curious why you’d want to bother dragging anyone back.”

  “So Xavier can do the questioning,” she replied flatly.

  “Ah. I keep forgetting this gig’s got vampires involved. Big vampires. The kind we never work with.”

  “True,” Layla admitted. “But I grew up with them, so . . . at least we know they won’t have us for dinner. Not without consent, anyway.” She grinned, knowing that Kerry had—and she suspected Brian had, too—enjoyed sex with at lea
st one vampire in the past. Enjoyed being the operative word there. Or so she’d heard. She herself had never partaken, which now that she thought about it, probably seemed strange to the others.

  “Questions?” she asked and when no one responded, she said. “Okay, Kerry and River you cross first. I don’t want all four of us out there at the same time.”

  The two of them took off and while Brian watched, Layla checked back with the teens waiting at the motel. Luckily, she had Alícia’s number from when the girl had called to tell them about the kidnapping. The call rang four times, and she was already calculating how long it would take to get back there and whom she could send, when the girl answered with a worried, “Yes?”

  “Alícia, it’s Layla. Everything okay there?” More than one TV seemed to be blaring in the background, with lots of porn-quality moans rising above the general noise.

  “Oh, yeah. It just took me a while to figure out my phone was vibrating.”

  Layla didn’t want to imagine what that meant. “Just tell me if everyone’s still healthy. No blood, no broken bones, no bad guys with a knife at your throat.”

  “Dios mio,” the girl said with the ages-old disgust of a teenager. “We’re watching gross movies. And eating junk from someone’s stash.”

  Thinking Brian wasn’t going to happy, she said, “Good. We won’t be long now.”

  Her comm clicked once, signaling the other two were in place, so she and Brian took off, moving quickly, but not speed walking, across the street and around to the back of the house. A quick peek through the small, curtained window on the door, showed an empty kitchen. Three seconds later, they’d picked the flimsy lock and were inside.

  Kerry and River headed right toward the room where the kids were, while she and Brian took the hallway.

  Noise came from the kids, crying when they woke up to more strangers.