The phone woke him up at three-thirty in the morning. No one called Special Agent John Turner unless it was bad. He knew it was real bad when he heard the voice of the Secretary of Defense on the other end.
The Secretary’s oldest daughter, Wilma, vacationing in San Diego was taken from her hotel room by Mexican drug lords. It was revenge for the arrest of a leader of one of the Mexican drug cartels, Poncho Rea.
The Secretary showed Turner the video of Wilma, reading a note demanding the release of Rea in return for her freedom, on the secretary’s private jet. Her voice was low and quivery, and it looked as if she been crying. Obviously Wilma was under duress and forced to read it. The scenery around her looked to be a beach. If it was, Tuner knew exactly where to look.
The plane landed in San Diego mid-day, and a car and a team of Navy Seals waiting for Turner. The Secretary stayed with the plane while Turner and his team went to work.
From his experience in the Federal Narcotics Agency Turner knew there were a series of underground tunnels that went hundreds of miles into Mexico. And one that led close to where Turner thought she was being held.
Half the team rode with Turner under cover on darkness to the border. They would cross on foot, hopefully without anyone knowing. They met the other half of the team in a deserted town along the coast, west of Tijuana.
The sun would be up in an hour, they had to act fast. The team spread out along the perimeter of the compound and Turner crawled under the barbed wire fence with a semi-automatic attached to his hip, and a grenade in each coat pocket.
A wall was about a hundred feet in front of him. A line of tents five rows deep on the other side. He was hoping Wilma was in one toward the back. Turner made it to the twenty foot high wall, climbed a tree and hung for a second before landing on his feet over the wall.
He signaled his team through his earpiece that he was in. He drew his weapon and quietly ran to the back row of tents. He could hear two men talking in Spanish inside the tent.
“I have you in site,” a voice said in his earpiece.
Turner turned around and saw the shadow of one of the team members. Turner counted down with his fingers…three…two…one, and they both entered the tent at the same time, guns drawn. Each firing once killing the two captors and leading Wilma safely to her father.