A few minutes later, wondering if he hadn’t been overly hasty when he’d wished for action, Mason listened as Gray laid out the details. Remy was headed stateside for more surgery and what looked to be months of recovery, although his doctors were “cautiously optimistic” he’d make a full recovery. Remy was stubborn, driven and a SEAL. Mason knew who he was betting on.
The new mission plan was equally optimistic. The team would insert by helo, meet up with the recon team and take up positions around the brothers’ compound. From the looks of the satellite photos, infiltrating would be a bitch. Santiago Marcos’s secret hideaway backed onto some prime mountain real estate a hundred miles away on the Belizean mainland. What wasn’t cliff-side was surrounded by thick jungle. His decorating scheme also appeared to feature concrete walls, barbed wire and a small army of bodyguards. Since it still wasn’t clear if Santiago was home or not, they’d pay a house call and confirm for themselves.
“Meet Santiago Marcos.” Ashley tapped the tablet, displaying a photograph of a fortysomething Hispanic male. “Two years younger than Diego Marcos. Five feet eight inches tall, brown hair, charcoal-brown eyes and no distinguishing marks other than a tattoo on his right biceps. Nice-looking dude.”
“You looking to get laid?”
Ashley glared at Levi as Gray’s voice came over the radio. “The FBI just got an indictment handed down in federal court, accusing him of drug trafficking and money laundering. We’re cleared to bring him into US custody.”
Levi sighed. “Is our guy a jogger? Do we think he’s planning on taking a walk outside his place to check his tomato plants? Or do we get to do more than wander by and tackle him?”
Their actions at the objective were straightforward. Fly under the radar into the surrounding jungle and then infiltrate closer. Demolitions experts on the other team would blow a new front door in the compound walls, they’d storm in and then search the place from the bottom up. If they found Santiago in residence, they’d transport him to the extraction point from where it was a quick ride to US jurisdiction and a court date. After they’d gone over what was required from each member of the team and the weapons they’d bring to the party, Mason only had one question.
“What are our rules of engagement?” Shooting the guy on sight would be good.
Gray issued a clear negative. “ROE says we can shoot only if Santiago offers provocation. In the meantime, you continue to patrol Fantasy Island and make sure no one shows up uninvited.”
“Roger that.” Maddie would never be alone. “Timeline?”
“We move in four nights,” Gray said. “That gives us time to search Fantasy Island for Santiago while the recon team tries to verify that he really is holed up inside the compound.”
They switched to discussing backup plans. Per standard operating protocol, they covered every what-if. Gray would rejoin them when they were on the Belize mainland, but until then Mason would lock down Fantasy Island. Nothing and no one got to Maddie on his watch.
Levi punched him in the arm. “We having fun yet?”
There was only one possible answer. “Hooyah.”
6
Best first date ever! Guys, take note. Instead of doing the dinner-and-drinks thing (and did I mention that Fantasy Island has a very, very sexy cocktail menu?), Mr. Fantasy Fodder came by my villa super early in the morning (which wasn’t so sexy—I had a serious case of bedhead) and made little old me chocolate-chip pancakes. Added bonus? Strawberries and whipped cream! Since FF was being a little standoffish (translation: insisted on keeping his hands to himself and being the perfect gentleman), I had to take offensive action, and all that whipped cream came in handy. Somehow, he ended up with a whipped cream mustache, and of course, I had to kiss it off. I’m sure he appreciated my efforts because he promptly asked me out on a date. I’m not sure where this is headed, ladies, but this is shaping up to be The Best Business Trip Ever. I’ll report back soon!
—MADDIE, Kiss and Tulle
MASON SEEMED LIKE a genuinely nice guy with a rocking body. Maddie had dated her share of fun men, but she had a bad feeling that Mason was in a league of his own. The League of Supersweet Keeper Guys. If she was being honest, her area of expertise was first dates. She’d had plenty of them after all. It was making it to the second, third and fourth dates that posed a challenge. Plus, a long-term relationship was rarer than the dodo bird in her universe. Mason made her think that she had herself a bird sighting.