Page 29 of Engaging his Enemy
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Every muscle in Razorback’s body was flexed and ready to pounce, the lights of the DEA command console illuminating the shipping container in which he stood. HERO Force would not be the primary on this mission, but his neck was on the line as surely as if he was leading the charge alone. It was a test of not only his leadership abilities but of his diplomacy skills and ability to coordinate smoothly with a government agency.
A big fish was on the line, the potential to catch DeRegina red-handed waiting like a prize on a shelf. It would be a big accomplishment for Razorback’s team, even if they weren’t the ones doing the heavy lifting. They’d brought the feds in on this one. The credit would be theirs.
It was fourteen hundred hours, cool with a light rain. Eleven DEA agents and several FBI were already stationed around the port. A manifest had been filed for the ship less than twelve hours before, an irregularity that likely would have been overlooked without the input of HERO Force. The customs declaration was for fireworks from China, but drug dealers weren’t known for writing “opium from Afghanistan” on the official paperwork.
Moto’s brother had put on a suit and tie that morning and taken his bruised and battered self down to sign the closing documents for his client. The port warehouse officially belonged to DeRegina now, and Razorback couldn’t wait to nail that man’s ass to the wall. To prove to himself, to Mac, and to his men that he was truly ready to lead this motley crew of soldiers.
Champion, Sloan, and Trace were scattered around the scene, ordered to stay out of the way and remain at the ready in case they were needed, which Razorback highly doubted they would be. They were extra sets of eyes and ears, witnesses to a prime example of law enforcement history that was about to go down.
A voice came over a speaker on the command console. “We can see the ship.”
The DEA agent in charge flipped a switch. “Give me a visual.” A screen lit up, a containership appearing on the screen. It looked like it could carry a dozen shipping containers, far fewer than some of the monstrous boats at the port that could carry thousands. But in terms of drugs, the volume was enormous—more than enough to damn DeRegina forever.
He watched as the ship made its way down the channel, finally approaching its assigned berth, and said a silent prayer for the men and women about to engage in this confrontation. The command center chirped with status updates from the agents in the field, while Razorback listened to his own team through an earpiece comm set.
“We’ve got three men visible on the ship’s bridge,” said Trace.
Razorback turned on his mic. “What are you seeing at the warehouse, Sloan?”
“Another truckload of fifty-gallon drums. Six workers unloading it now.”
“Any sign of DeRegina?” asked Razorback.
“Negative.”
Razorback frowned. In his dreams of this day, DeRegina was here in person, foiled and distraught, an image Razorback longed to add to his memories.
“Wait,” said Sloan. “Black sedan approaching the warehouse.”
Razorback stared at the ship on the display, its hull slowly creeping by their camera as he waited for Sloan’s next update.
“It’s him.”
“Get a camera on him,” barked Razorback. “Moto, you ready?”
“Facial-recognition program running,” said Moto.
Sloan swore. “The telephoto lens doesn’t get me close enough.”
“Send me what you’ve got,” said Moto. “Maybe I can work with it.”
Adrenaline had Razorback poised to take on a tango with his own bare hands, but he reined himself in as he waited for Moto to do his magic, time stretching out with an interminable fluidity.
The ship stopped moving just as Moto’s voice came over the comm set. “It’s him. Ninety-nine percent confidence interval.”
“Hot damn,” said Razorback. “Agent Spaulding,” he said, getting the older DEA commander’s attention, “DeRegina is at the warehouse.”
Spaulding grinned. “He’s going to have a front-row seat to his own demise, then, isn’t he?” Razorback only wished that was actually true. The warehouse was close to where the ship had docked, but it wasn’t visible from DeRegina’s vantage point.
Razorback turned his attention back to the console. Within minutes, the crew of the ship had disembarked and were arrested, and federal agents boarded the ship. “Razorback, DeRegina and his men are headed your way,” said Sloan, just as one of the feds shared the same information through the command center speaker.
“I’m going out there,” said Razorback. He wanted to see this with his own eyes.
Spaulding nodded. “Just stay back.”
He went outside, the ship a mere hundred yards away from where he stood. A black sedan could be seen in the distance, heading for the docks, and Razorback damn near smiled. But it wasn’t over yet, and he forced himself to be patient.
