by J E Higgins
The two ATF agents, Quintin Ross and Joseph Pierce, were moving around in a routine that resembled a poor attempt at street dancing as they tried to loosen their bodies and mentally prepare themselves for the expected battle. Like many ATF agents, they had seen their share of house raids in the states and were generally aware of what to expect.
“The cowboys look a might trigger happy,” Ashler commented in a low whisper as he looked suspiciously at the two ATF agents. He had little patience for them, having dubbed them derogatorily the cowboys for some of the maverick antics they sometimes pulled.
“Hopefully they’ll be all right,” she replied slightly exasperated. What bothered Darson was their attitude.
Both agents had not been happy playing a back seat role to the DEA on a case that should have been theirs from the beginning. The DEA’s argument of having more experience with both South America and drug cartels only prompted Ross and Peirce to prove how street-wise they were, motivating them to behave in a gratingly arrogant manner. Their behavior served to irritate not only the rest of the team but create unneeded friction with their Mexican counterparts.
“Hopefully, a gunfight might wise the two of them up,” she quipped.
Ashler chuckled. “Doubtful. It’s been my experience that idiots out to prove something rarely are inclined to learn things when they should.”
“It’s not a thought I want to consider,” she said sighing nervously.
“Not a thought any of us want to consider,” the Englishman said coldly.
The team gathered haphazardly around the vehicle. With limited time, Darson began her brief. “Alright, here’s the play.” She looked quickly at her watch. “In another ten minutes, the power is going to go out in this whole area. Remember, despite appearances the place is wired, and they can see our movements.” She was, of course, referring to the security system that surrounded the house.
During their reconnaissance, Ashler’s team had noticed several small cameras along the top of the wall lining the perimeter. They were the wireless kind that operated from a router system located somewhere in the house. These cameras had a high pixel quality that made the pictures very clear, even at night.
Ashler had pointed out that this type of camera had a sight picture that only covered a few feet in front of the wall with no means to scan distant land. The cartel apparently felt the greater concern was attracting unwanted attention than being thoroughly prepared against it. Still, it was an early warning system that gave the house occupants a visual of them once they reached the front entrance.
Darson continued. “When we move, we move at warp speed towards the entrance. The lead vehicle will breach the door, and we’ll continue infiltration. We move right to the house. Remember, for this op, we’ll be going in with full night vision so make sure your optics are working. If we are engaged by any perimeter security, they will be dealt with by the two lead vehicles. The priority for us and the vehicles just ahead of us is the house. We move on it and breach the front door just like we rehearsed.” She turned and looked sternly at Ross and Pierce as she emphasized her point. They both eyed her back with arrogant looks of defiance.
Darson kept her gaze on the two men for another few seconds and then slowly returned her focus to the rest of the group. Her actions were deliberate, it had been an informal power grab campaign, and she wanted to make it clear that she was not intimidated by either of them.
“Remember, the objective is to seize the documents or as many as we can,” Cassandra Holden interjected as the prevailing legal mind of the group. “This exercise is to obtain evidence that will give teeth to an extradition order.” She turned, eyeing everyone carefully to ensure she had their full attention. “I say this so that in the heat of any battle you remember what the emphasis is.”
One of the Mexican officers approached. He was the team leader for the lead vehicle. He was quick and to the point, reminding Darson of the time and that they were about to move out. He examined the last vehicle of the convoy and then its team. She thanked him, then set about readying her people. The briefing was over and now it was time for everyone to do final equipment checks.
With no last-minute issues, everyone moved to their vehicle. Kenner slid into the driver’s seat with Holden taking up the passenger side, leaving the rest of the team to mount the scaffolding fixed along the sides. Darson and Ashler took a position on the driver’s side, while Ross and Peirce along with Salvaras took theirs on the other side.
As the start time neared, she felt her heart begin to thump harder, and a tingly sensation reverberated through her body. It was sensations she felt whenever she was about to go into an uncertain situation. Her hand tightly clutched the trigger grip on her rifle while her other hand gripped the scaffolding railing. In the past, she had seen men go flying onto the street when they were caught off guard by the raid vehicle’s sudden movement. It was a lesson that stuck with her.
Ashler was posted just behind her, she could feel his breath as it fell in soft bursts down the back of her neck. It was the steady breath of a man completely calm and focused, not the slightest bit phased by the impending violence they were about to encounter. His body was still. If it weren’t for the occasional squeaking sound of his hand adjusting his weapon, she would have no evidence that he was there at all.
From an idle hum, the trucks jumped to life in unison. “We’re moving!” Shouted Kenner from the driver’s seat. A second later, the suburban flew into action as if shot and streaked down the road. The world was a green flash seen through the night optics that rested over Darson’s eyes. Even through the nylon fabric of the balaclava that covered her face, she could feel the wind slicing at her like an invisible sword.
The trucks moved quickly forward, one right after the other, and rounded the hill that had concealed them from the cartel’s estate. Now, in a flash, the hill was gone and before them was the wall that guarded their quarry with a menacing steel gate standing in their way. The vehicles charged at it. The lead vehicle was an armored tactical vehicle that tore through the gate like an angry bull. A split second later her own truck was zipping by the carnage of mangled steel thrown to the sides, no longer a hindrance.
The vehicles continued down the road to the estate. With lights completely out, they were like ghostly apparitions plowing through the darkness. The only means of knowing their presence was the growling tank-like sound of the lead armored truck as it roared toward its target.
Sporadic bursts of gunfire erupted wildly in all directions as the outside guards fired blindly, trying to find the invaders they could only hear. It was when the clanging sound of bullets crashing against metal shields was heard that the first two vehicles split off to engage the enemy. The soldiers were soon delivering controlled, well-aimed bursts of fire responding to the blind fire of the guards. The suppressors used by the soldiers minimized the muzzle flash of their weapons and dampened the sound of their gunfire enough to ensure that the guards couldn’t hone in on their direction.
Through her optics, Darson could see they were nearing the house when the remaining trucks broke from their pattern as each came to a grinding stop. Darson leaped from the cab landing on the paved driveway with a hard thump. She could feel Ashler’s body as he landed next to her.
Taking off in a dead heat she raced toward the front door. As she passed the hood of the suburban, the other three members of the team were moving across to join her. Kenner and Holden had exited the truck after them and took a knee as they remained to guard the vehicle. The rest fanned out in a tactical line as they moved to the house. The Mexican soldiers with them had already made it to the front door and were in the process of breaking it open.
As they neared, Ashler screamed out. “Contact!” He raised his weapon and fired a quick burst just over Darson’s shoulder. She looked in the direction he was aiming to see two suited figures crumple to the ground clutching their torsos. With complete indifference, the Englishman continued moving as if nothing had happened. Hi
s weapon still raised in the direction of the two dead bodies.
The soldiers who breached the door were in the process of entering when the American agents reached them. Without stopping, they followed. The sounds of gunfire outside became more intense as more of the guards reached the front of the house. Their gunfire was now more effectively targeting the soldiers who were engaging them. Apparently, the guards had started to use their own night vision optics evening the playing field. Darson began to wonder if this gunfight might turn against them, hoping the reinforcements on standby would be able to move in fast enough.
The outside gun battle disappeared from view as she passed into the house. Upon entering, the team members followed the pattern of the soldiers and fanned out on both sides of the large corridor. Inside, she could hear the screams and wails of men and women as they shouted in fear, not able to see or know what was going on other than they were being attacked by some unknown entity.
Amidst the shrieks and screams delivered by terrified employees, they could hear the voices of those in charge trying to establish calm and deliver instructions. Then she heard one man ordering his people to hurry and burn it all. Time was now of the essence as the team moved through the house as fast as they could without being reckless. It was not the best way to operate, but if they didn’t want all the documents to vanish before their arrival, a raid was preferable to an official search.
The sounds of muffled gunfire were heard just ahead as the soldiers engaged armed men who had come in contact with them, firing from doorways and passages. A sudden blinding flash of light was followed by a barrage of gunfire spraying them. The aggressors carefully remained shielded in their protected positions. Taking turns delivering quick bursts of controlled fire, they coordinated well against the invading force that had breached the house. Caught exposed in the narrow hallway, even with limited visibility, the assailants were able to effectively get their shots close to their targets.
“Holy shit!” screamed Ross from across the hall. “They're killing us. For Christ’s sake, they're killing us!” He fired a few wild shots that went nowhere.
Bullets screamed past her face, and Darson felt herself drop to one knee in an attempt to avoid the line of fire. Ahead, she could hear the Mexican soldiers shouting as they tried to retaliate. Thankfully their body armor protected them as the rounds hit their torsos like a series of hard punches. After a few seconds, the shooting stopped as the soldiers managed to regain control and return fire turning back the guards or killing those who remained.
Now, the soldiers were moving down the hall while Darson and her team split off to follow the sounds of people and cover the flank. Outside, the shooting had largely subsided as the arriving reinforcements provided the overwhelming force that turned the tide of the battle. Over the comms set, she heard the voice of Cassero informing everyone that another tactical team was moving up to lend support.
Darson took point as she led her team through an opening into what looked to be a large dining room. The tension of the previous gunfight and the uncertainty of what lay ahead had her gripping her weapon’s stock with near vice-like force. Across the room, she saw Ross paralleling her a few meters behind. He shifted his upper body as he scanned the other half of the room with his rifle following every move.
They were just passing a long, thick mahogany table in the center of the room when they heard a shout.
“Contact front!” Shouted Ashler, in a deep animal roar that captured everyone’s attention. Before anyone could respond, the Englishman was firing a burst of shots toward the entryway they were approaching. Like the Mexicans, his weapon had a suppressor that dampened the sound and the muzzle flash. A few thumping sounds were all Darson heard. Looking through her night vision optics at the entrance, she caught sight of a man stepping back in shocked surprise while another man quickly threw himself against the wall attempting to raise his weapon when she realized what was happening. Swinging back around she fired at the man pressed against the wall.
By now, Ross had moved forward, firing his weapon at the guard. He was joined by Salvaras and Pierce who followed behind him delivering their own covering fire. The guard continued sliding against the wall trying to find a place he could escape the wave of bullets flying in his direction. Eventually, his movements ceased, and he slowly slumped to the floor in a motionless clump.
The agents moved quickly forward brushing by the lifeless figures in the entryway as they turned to search the corners of the next room. Finding that all was clear, they hastily moved on in the direction of the shouting. In the distance, they heard more gunfire as the Mexican soldiers must have encountered yet another group of hostile’s intent on defending the grounds.
Darson’s team continued moving into the next room. It too was empty, and so was the one after that. But it was from this room that they could now clearly hear the people in the next room over. “What the fuck are we waiting for?” Pierce growled as he moved out ahead of the group. “Let’s nail this.” He was just ahead of Ross, who fell in behind him.
“Hold back!” Darson snapped. She moved briskly toward the entrance trying to beat the ATF agents, but it was too late. Pierce slid through the entrance into the next room with Ross following a few meters behind. Salvaras and Ashler fell in after Darson, who followed the ATF agents into the next room.
They found a crowd of people frantically racing about. In the green illumination of the night optics, it looked like a scene from an old horror movie as they crashed around a series of desks intertwined throughout what was supposed to be the ballroom. In the darkness, the desks were a maze that worked to trap everyone. With gunfire all around them, none of the office workers knew where to go, thus they remained paralyzed. The darkness was disrupted by the flames shooting from the burn bins located next to each computer. Some of the office workers had stood fast following protocol and were trying to burn as many of the data sticks, disks, and papers as they could. The flames blinded the agents’ night vision view.
“Stop!” Darson screamed at Pierce as he began to fire his weapon over their heads and into the ceiling. Darson rushed past him, knocking him off to the side. Salvaras came up behind and began shouting in Spanish for everyone to stop and get on the floor. The team began to fan out to flank the crowd and cover the area. Salvaras continued shouting trying to get control.
Finally, order was restored. Having seized the main room, the other teams communicated that they had subdued the remaining hostiles. Cassero was able to bring the power back on, and the house again had lights. The agents were at last able to see what they were dealing with.
The room was a series of small wooden desks with laptop computers atop each one. As the soldiers moved out of the office, staff began to process and debrief. Darson and her team, along with some of Cassero’s aids, began collecting data sticks and other documents.
The fires in the burn bins were still ablaze melting the gig sticks and disks that had gotten tossed into them causing thick clouds of dark, suffocating smoke. The eyes of the agents and the soldiers who had recently entered the room burned. Mercifully, the staff had stopped feeding the bins a while ago and the flames had begun to die down. However, they had been able to toss a considerable number of documents into the burners and what was in them was totally unusable.
The team was in the process of gathering up any scattered pieces, while Darson looked over some of the computers. Because nothing was actually supposed to be stored on them, it was likely the staffers, in their haste, would have overlooked any information that may have remained on their screens. Unfortunately, the staff had been better trained and prepared in evacuation techniques than anyone had assumed ─ the computer screens had all been shut down or smashed outright preventing retrieval of any information.
She did manage to find one screen that caught her attention. It was discussing something called Santiago Shipping. It was a summary of a report that discussed the company’s current ability to handle overseas transportation of equipment
to ports in Africa. The report gave a brief synopsis of the company’s long-term ability to grow to accommodate a higher volume of traffic over the next five years.
Santiago Shipping was unknown to her. It certainly was not one of the companies the US government was currently tracking as a front for the Black Crow. But the way the summary read, it was clear that the company held significant importance to the cartel. Darson was hopeful that she had found what she was looking for.
She turned and was surprised when she saw Ashler looking over her shoulder. “Looks like we’ve found something tasty,” he stated, nodding his head towards the screen.
“Yes,” she replied, still a little startled. “I think we may have. Especially, if there’s more to learn.”
Chapter 15
Crane hung back in the corner of the saloon where he had opted to wait. His fingers gently rotated the small glass of wine that sat on the table before him. He stared at the dark red liquid with concentrated intensity. He hardly noticed when his waitress came up to him. “Are you alive?” She stood over him like a worried parent.
“Just thinking,” he replied quietly in his passible Spanish, his attention still drawn to his drink.
“Whether you drink it or not, the answer is not going to come from a bottle or a glass,” she advised.
He smiled. “You never know what revelations one can gain from a good night of hard drinking. Perhaps in my inebriated state, I’ll gain a clarity of vision.”
“And what would that clarity be telling you?” she inquired further.
For the first time since their conversation began, Crane’s eyes lifted to meet hers. “You see, I have good things happen when I look for wisdom in my drinks. Why my life is so lacking in adventure.” He smirked as he said it.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, pressing her fingers gently to her face with a slight look of shock. “I came here because someone called for you, or at least a man matching your description. He wanted me to tell you the rest of your friends have arrived.”