by J E Higgins
Seconds later there was another ferocious blast. This time striking the HUM-V cab, which burst into a ball of flames and stopped it cold as it was attempting to back up and escape. With the convoy now trapped, the mercenaries commenced carrying out their wave of grenade strikes. Aiming their weapons, they waited until they saw the silhouettes of men pouring from the back of the trucks.
Like the guards at the camp, these gunmen were not professional soldiers. Instead of sending out a few men at a time and taking cover in strategic locations that would have better protected them, they jumped from the trucks practically falling on one another in a desperate attempt to escape the death trap. Teams Two and Four continued dropping grenades all about keeping the guards in a state of panic. With no visible leader amongst the group, the guards muddled about frantic and confused.
With the enemy now exposed and compressed into tight groups, the mercenaries opened fire from above. The grenades fell like rain as they dropped to the ground exploding in blasts that sent bodies flying in all directions, producing thick clouds of smoke that added to the confusion. Despite the smoke, Crane and his men could tell from the chorus of desperate screams below they were hitting their targets.
Following the noise of the screaming guards, they continued to systematically drop grenades on their quarry delivering a litany of deaths and injuries with each blast. Some of the guards had made their way to the front of the convoy and attempted to charge forward in a desperate move to escape. They were cut down swiftly by explosive bursts the moment they came out into the open.
The teams of McNaulty and Kusaki had maintained cover at the front and had taken care to shower fire onto any groups attempting to escape in their direction. Crane kept watch on the rear and fired down blocking off any means to exit down the hill. More than once he cut off small groups of men trying to sneak past the HUM-V. In the short cease-fire that allowed the smoke to clear, the mercenaries saw that most of the survivors had plastered themselves against the wall of trees in a vain attempt to escape through into the jungle.
Mass slaughter wasn’t something Crane particularly liked. However, the intention of this evening was to get the attention of the Black Crow leadership. That meant everything this evening had to be as violent and calamitous as possible. Having given the guards enough time to believe that the attack was all over, the mercenaries waited until many of them had come out from under the trucks where they had taken cover or from places along the side of the hill where the more intelligent ones took refuge.
With everyone once again grouped together, the mercenaries resumed their attack. Unleashing a hail of rounds, one after another ripping apart the groups of men who had gathered along the tree line. Bodies flew in all directions as powerful blasts seemed to erupt from the ground in bright flashes of light that lasted only a second and left swaths of destruction in the aftermath.
Having achieved the intended purpose of the mission Crane stood by as the remaining men below dashed past the HUM-V and darted down the hill into the darkness. He watched them with his night optics ensuring that none of them tried to double back or regroup. To his relief, none of them did. They remained a loose smattering of terrified peasants who wanted nothing more than to get away. He continued watching until they were all the way down the road and well out of range of their grenade launchers.
Confident it was safe, Crane ordered the teams to stand down. Grabbing Espinoza and Sandoval, Crane started down the hill to inspect the scene. He left the remaining teams in place to provide cover as he and the Spaniards slid down the hill. They moved carefully through the bushes, stopping at every point where they had a view of the convoy to see if there were any signs of anyone still in the area.
Arriving at the base of the hill, they emerged one at a time onto the road. Keeping five meters dispersion the three of them started toward the HUM-V. Coming up behind the half-demolished vehicle the Spaniards flanked the sides with Crane following up on the passenger side next to Espinoza. As they neared, they heard a faint murmur emanating from the vehicle. Crane moved ahead to seize the door while Espinoza stood fast with his rifle at the ready.
Thrusting open the door, they found an injured Hidalgo Perron sitting in the passenger seat clutching his stomach tightly. He was groaning in anguish and seemed more tired than terrified at the sight of the armed assailants now surrounding him. Through their optics, they could make out the ocean of blood soaking his lower body. He made no move to defend himself or put up any sort of fight.
Looking over at the driver’s seat, they saw the charred remains of who had to be Serona lying dead at the wheel of the car.
“Where is Senior Guzman?” Espinoza snapped, trying to get some sort of information from the man.
Crane waved to his man, beckoning to stop and pointing towards the back seat where Guzman’s body laid slumped to the side. A large, sharp piece of shrapnel protruded alarmingly from the side of his neck, half decapitating him.
“Trying to interrogate a dying man,” Hidalgo Perron wheezed out his words. “I don’t think there is much you can threaten me with at this point.” He smirked slightly as he forced out a weakened chuckle. “Who are you?” He asked.
“We’re the competition,” Espinoza lied. “We’re taking over.”
“You people certainly seem efficient.” The dying man lifted his eyes to look at Crane. He was too weak to do anything else. “We didn’t even see you coming before you took out our entire operation. We assumed you were sent by the Black Crow cartel. Those psycho ex-commandos have been looking to take us over for a while. It figured that this was a hostile takeover on their part.”
“I’m afraid we’re not them,” the Spaniard replied in an almost apologetic way. “We’re someone else entirely.”
Perron pursed his lips as he raised his eyebrows, “I should warn you, as a professional courtesy. The product back at our camp is already paid for. And, the Black Crow cartel is not an organization you want to have as an enemy. They won’t take well if you sold their product to someone else.”
“Well then, we might make a deal with them,” Espinoza continued. “As a professional courtesy, who would we reach out to?”
Perron’s lips stiffened, it was impossible to tell if he was angered by the idea of helping his killers or if he appreciated the irony in some sick way. It seemed he wasn’t sure either as he remained silent for a long time staring back at Crane.
Then with a shrug and a look of defeated indifference he began to speak, “Raphael Baez operates out of the ports in Arica just over the border in Chili. He is the Cartel’s man down here and coordinates shipments between us and his people. He has a shipping operation called Valisar Shipping. However, when he is discussing movement of illicit contraband, he works out of the backroom of a seafood restaurant on the docks, called Umberto’s. He keeps his legal and less than legal businesses quite separate. Yankee law enforcement has little imagination, so it’s easier to stay hidden under their radar.”
“Thanks, for the intel,” Espinoza quipped. With no more information to be had Crane fired two rounds in quick succession from his rifle. They pounded into the dying man’s chest. Perron sank limply into his seat.
Chapter 21
‘What the hell is going on?’ This was the first thought that went through Rainn Darson’s mind when the news broke about the death of Santos Guzman and the attack on his hidden processing lab. Apparently, all done at the hands of another mysterious attacker who then just simply vanished without a trace after committing mass destruction and carnage. She listened to the briefing being given by Dan Leveran over secure VCT communication line while she closely reviewed the photographs showing the burned out remains of what used to be a major cocaine production lab.
The photos had been taken by an unmanned aerial drone that had been dispatched by the DEA offices out of Bogotá once news of the attack had reached them. What they showed was a once well-hidden processing lab that was now nothing more than a giant burned out hole in the middle of
an impenetrable jungle canopy.
She scrutinized the images carefully trying to make sense of what she was looking at as she alternated her attention between the lab and another batch of pictures showing the massive killing field that had taken place a few miles away. Looking at the field littered with shredded bodies that had once been Guzman’s security detail she wondered if these were perhaps the same people who had hit Santiago Shipping a few weeks before.
“This had to be a professional team,” Kenner said, snapping her out of her deep concentration. For a minute, between the pictures and listening to Leveran’s report, she had forgotten that anyone else was in the room, let alone that Ashler and her two DEA colleagues were flanking her, looking at the same photographs.
“A damn good one,” Ashler followed up as he glossed over the pictures of Guzman’s convoy. “The convoy was attacked at a perfect ambush spot if I’m looking at this correctly. On a steep incline of a hill on a narrow road wedged between an over-looking hill and tight tree line. I bet the number of bodies stacked against trees that were too close together to allow anyone through.”
“What the hell did they hit those guys with?” Salvaras asked, staring at the torn and charred bodies and the places where a number of explosions had obviously occurred.
“Grenade launchers, I bet,” Ashler replied. “It looks like they hit them from the ridge line above and another couple of shooters were positioned further up the road. They must have hit the lead truck head-on and then hit the rear vehicle boxing the rest of the vehicles then slaughtering them all.”
“Boy were they,” Darson was astonished.
“Agent Darson,” the abrupt command from Dan Leveran brought her back to his image on the computer.
“I’m sorry sir,” she responded as she turned in her swivel chair to face him with her full attention.
Ignoring her distracted behavior Leveran continued, “Santos Guzman was the lead cocaine supplier for the Black Crow organization. He was assassinated along with his top operators, and it looks like the supply of powder that was being readied to ship was completely destroyed. We can only assume that someone is moving against the Black Crow organization directly. What are our Mexican friends inferring from this incident?”
Puzzled, Darson fished one of the photos off the table. She had barely eyed it before she began to speak, “Sir, at this point, we don’t know anything for sure. Neither do the Mexicans. Whoever this new group is, they’re moving like ghosts under everyone’s radar. No one seems to know anything. What we do know is that they’re highly skilled and well informed.”
“This troubles me as you can imagine,” Leveran grimaced. “I don’t like things being where I can’t see them, but that’s beside the point. The Black Crow remains your priority. Continue with the pursuit of Gutiérrez but any intelligence you get on this new group needs to be reported to me as soon as you get it.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied dutifully.
Leveran dropped the computer connection, and Darson was now alone with her team. She turned her chair back to the table facing the three men who stared back at her waiting for her to speak. “This works in our favor,” she began. “Something this big has got to have the Black Crow leadership in a state of chaos. If we don’t know anything, I’ll bet they don’t either, and that’s going to put them on edge.”
Salvaras cracked a smile. “If their latest cocaine shipment just got blown to shit to the tune of hundreds of millions of dollars, you can bet they’re going to be desperate to do something, and that means taking some risky actions.”
“Exactly,” Darson said with anticipation. “This was what we were waiting for. Let’s see what our friends do and if it opens up any new avenues for us to pursue.”
“What about this mystery crew?” Ashler interjected.
“At this point, they could be anybody,” Kenner replied. “If they burned up the coke, they might not be another cartel but vigilantes or someone else who has a grudge.”
“That, or they just didn’t have the means to move it,” Darson considered. “If this group is going to such lengths to remain covert, then they’re traveling light. If they used the unusual channels, they wouldn’t have the ability to handle a hijacked product. So then, why leave it for the competition? In the end, until we know more, all we have is the same wild speculations that the EPIC does. In that case, it doesn’t do us any good to waste time on it. So, as the boss says, our priority is still Gutiérrez and the Black Crow cartel. We’ll deal with this new group when and if we figure out who they are.”
The meeting concluded. Ashler and Salvaras hurriedly left the room leaving Kenner at the table randomly sifting through the leftover papers as if looking for something specific.
“What’s on your mind?” Darson inquired, knowing that Kenner’s fumbling was meant as an excuse to talk to her alone.
Leaning back in his seat, Kenner rested his hand on his stomach as he turned to face her. He began shaking his head slowly. “There’s just something not quite right about these attacks.”
“What’s right?” she countered, as she rose from her seat and began pacing. “Mysterious gunmen? There’s nothing right about any of this.”
“I know,” he raised his hands as if stopping her as he worked to collect his thoughts. “It’s just that this whole incident feels too convenient. Reviewing the reports and photos of how these attacks went down, it’s like something we’d do in the SEALs. I mean the precision attacks carried out with professional skill just disappears? And what’s more, they seem to know as much as we do as fast as we learn it.” He looked straight at her with a serious look of concern.
“What are you getting at, Ward?” Darson inquired, despite having a good idea where he was going with his discussion.
“I just want to say it out loud,” Kenner stated somewhat apologetically. “I guess what I’m wondering is if there’s a chance that someone in our government is running a duel clandestine mission parallel to ours?”
Darson didn’t reply immediately. She continued pacing slowly as if she were pretending not to have heard him.
“I mean the timing, the fact that we don’t have anything to even begin to identify these people,” Kenner went on. “The fact that we just barely found out about Santiago Shipping and were preparing to go after it when it gets attacked. Who else could have had that sort of intel unless...” He stopped himself.
“Unless they are someone tracking our progress.” Darson finished his statement in a cold emotionless tone that sounded like she was talking to herself. “That’s what you’ve been wondering, right?” She swung around to face him. “Am I right?” she was staring at him waiting for his answer.
“Well, yes, that’s exactly what I’m getting at,” he replied sharply.
“And, if that’s true,” she looked at him evaluating his manner, “then it would mean someone on this team and likely not from the Mexican side but from ours. Someone is feeding intelligence to this outside party.”
“That is what I’m wondering,” Kenner said with a look of sincere concern.
“And, you think that leak might be me?” Darson started walking back towards her chair. In that instant, just before she moved to sit down, she recognized that they were both dressed in black tactical fatigues and combat boots. They looked more like soldiers than cops at that point.
Kenner shrugged as he nodded his head slightly, “you’re the most likely suspect at this point.”
“It’s not, trust me.” Her mood lightened somewhat as she sank into her chair leaning back and propping her crossed feet on the table. “The consideration that we’ve been breached has been on my mind as well. However, I don’t like to get too narrowly focused. As I said in the meeting, we don’t have anything but conjecture. Could there be someone running a covert operation alongside us, possibly? But, could it also be as simple as some rival discovering the same intel some other way and making their move because they know we’re targeting the Black Crow. Something I’ve learned in
this business; secret facilities in the criminal world get discovered all the time through loose lips and random street knowledge.”
“That’s an awfully significant piece of intelligence to just pick up from the streets,” Kenner exclaimed. “I mean look at the trouble we had to go through to get what we had on Santiago Shipping.”
Darson shrugged. “Just because we’re the US, with all our resources, doesn’t mean we know everything and sometimes we learn things through a billion dollars of technology that a criminal closer to the action could have picked up just by spreading some money around in the right places or threatening the right people.
“It’s never ceased to amaze me how much can be done or learned from simple low-tech approaches. And let’s not overlook that while Santiago Shipping was a hard piece to find, it’s been common knowledge for a long time that Santos Guzman was the primary supplier for the Black Crow’s cocaine. So, it’s not that big of a leap to believe that someone has just been biding their time waiting for this moment.” She looked back at Kenner whose face wore a puzzled expression. She continued, “I don’t discount the possibility of a leak, but since nothing like that is being indicated from our superiors, we can’t be sure.”
“I believe you when you say you’re not the informant,” he said in a casual manner. “But I ain’t buying the idea that some third party got wind of all this by simple street knowledge and that this could all be some sophisticated rival. Something’s at play here and someone on this team is involved.” Deciding that the conversation was over, Kenner rose from his seat and started out the door.
Darson said nothing as he left. She had always respected Kenner and his sharp mind, but she wasn’t about to let on that she felt he was spot on about his theory or that she was sure that the leak was Ashler. She wasn’t clear what the British angle was. She had suspected something was amiss when they sent a Special Forces soldier in instead of a law enforcement agent, which would have been more appropriate. They might have at least kept the intelligence liaisons they had already been working with.