Mental trickery. Psyche myself into believing I’m tougher than I really am.
Nevertheless, Carl absorbed the woman’s wisdom. He accepted that she was an expert in the art of war, killing, and compartmentalizing and listened to her until they approached the fortified wrought-iron gate of the Reyes compound.
Carl put his ear piece back in and discovered that Mr. Garcia had called ahead to warn the mercs of their arrival, but Carl and Palmer were still met by the business end of several automatic weapons. Carl was pleased to see Garcia had recruited a dozen new mercs. They looked the same as his original mercs: lean, wiry men probably with less-than-honorable discharges. They looked like men who lived for the adrenaline rush and the excitement of killing someone, anyone.
Trent Englebaum, referred to as Merc Three, had taken the leadership position over the new security guys. He exchanged words with one of the two heavily armed men at the gate. The heavy metal structure slid open just long enough for Blick to drive through.
Carl and Palmer got out while Blick parked the SUV inside the security fence, near the gate. Carl liked what he saw. At least half a dozen mercenaries, all heavily armed and dressed in full tactical gear, patrolled the expansive property. And those were just the men he could see. Clearly, young Mr. Garcia had interpreted Carl’s concern over the safety of the Reyes ladies properly and had deployed sufficient cash to ensure their protection.
He was just getting ready to greet Merc Three when Agent Peoples’s voice in his ear piece made a startling announcement. President Mallory had just been admitted to Mountain View Regional Medical Center outside Las Cruces, where Melissa was being treated. After her speech to Congress, she’d flown back to New Mexico to be near her daughter. While being briefed by Melissa’s doctors, the president became nauseous. Minutes later, she had a mild seizure and fainted. She was now reported to be in a coma.
Carl stopped in his tracks and looked at Palmer. “Those are basically the same symptoms Melissa had.” Palmer nodded and he added, “That can’t be a coincidence.”
Merc Three approached, and he and Carl bumped forearms. Three said, “Nice work yesterday, out there in the desert with Reyes and his crew, Boss. Real nice. Never seen a civvy get shot and still take care of business like that.”
Three was a slender fellow and stood an inch shorter than Carl. He had a serious face with dark eyes and shallow cheeks and several days of razor stubble. He gave Palmer a quick up-and-down appraisal.
“So, do we trust her?” Three said with a head-nod at Palmer, like she wasn’t standing an arm’s length away.
Carl answered the way he thought a combat leader should. “I thought we covered that a couple days ago.”
“Riiiight.” The man dragged out the word and nodded with a glance at Palmer. “We trust her to look after the government’s interests.”
Palmer said, “In this op, my interests and yours coincide.”
Three looked at Carl and raised his eyebrows in question, and Carl noticed the change the mercenary had evolved through over the last seven days. He and the other three mercenaries, two of which died during this week’s op, had simply hired on for the money. They craved the excitement and had initially shown disdain for Carl, who was, in their minds, merely a civilian with no combat experience and no teeth to his command presence.
Until his ambush dispatched the FBI SWAT team. And the elite TER tactical team.
Carl had made several more tough calls under pressure, and as a result the mercenaries, following his instructions, had prevailed numerous times against highly trained adversaries in over-matched contests. He had earned their respect and their trust. Indeed, while Mr. Garcia had procured the services of a dozen more mercenaries, Carl was certain they only signed on because of the endorsement of Carl’s two surviving mercs.
Carl nodded. “She’s on our side.” He paused a beat and smiled. “This week.”
“Well,” Three said casually. “Welcome temporarily to the team, Agent Palmer.” He gave her a fist-bump. To Carl he said, “Do we have intel?”
Through their earpieces, Peoples said, “Yes, we do.”
“Let’s have a meeting,” Carl said, looking around. “Where’s Four?”
“She’s coordinating a tactical defensive plan up at the house.”
Three half-turned to Palmer who followed the two men. “By the way, we received your equipment delivery this morning. A C-130 flying the colors of the Mexican Air Force air-dropped some containers out behind the house.”
“A C-130?” Carl said. “Those planes were antique when I joined the Air Force thirty-five years ago.”
Palmer said, “The local air guard doesn’t have C-17s in its inventory, so we had to go old school.”
Merc Three chuckled. “You gonna let her get away with that, Boss? She just called you old-school.”
Carl chuckled and turned toward the house. Technically, I am old school.
Three added, “By the way, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’ve got satellite support, so except for the new security boys, we’re all on sat-comm now. Moving up in the world, eh, Boss?”
Carl nodded. The fact that McGrath had the clout to have a billion-dollar national security satellite asset retasked for this mission gave Carl a significant boost of confidence. Still, his paranoia lurked deep in the back of his brain.
“I want a low-tech backup plan in case we lose the satellite or have to go dark for any reason.”
Three said, “You expecting trouble, Boss?”
Carl shrugged. They did, after all, lose their drone two days ago during the rescue mission to the most unexpected of circumstances.
“The shit never hits the fan when people are expecting it.”
Chapter 14
1345 hours MST Friday
Northern Mexico
Carl and Agent Palmer walked a hundred yards to the front entrance of the Reyes mansion while Merc Three remained behind and handed out assignments to the gate guards. The estate of the now-captured Alfonso Reyes was located on an isolated strip of beachfront land that dipped lazily down to the water. The ten-foot-high black wrought-iron security fence surrounded the house on all four sides, though the property extended all the way down to the water and for another half mile to the north and south.
The beach faced due west, and the emerald water of the Gulf of California stretched away as far as he could see, though Carl knew Baja California sat directly west over the horizon. There was very little wave action out there and the glass surface was dotted with yachts and fishing trawlers. The beach in front of Carl was pristine white sand, which stretched away to the south. A hundred yards to the north, rocky cliffs rose abruptly and dropped straight into the water.
On the drive from the municipal airport, Palmer had called their destination San Carlos, the seaward end of a place called Guaymas. The area wasn’t completely uninhabited, but because of the huge amount of land owned by Reyes, there were no nearby structures or neighbors.
Carl was so captivated by the sight of the water and the beach and the cliffs that he wobbled into Palmer. He reached out a hand and touched her lower back to keep himself moving in the right direction while he gazed at the scenery. He subconsciously adjusted his direction, guided by the contact of his fingertips against her back, just like a comfortable couple would do. After a few seconds, he realized what he was doing, snatched his hand away, and turned his attention back to his destination.
“Sorry.”
Palmer gave him a sly sideways look and said, “It didn’t hurt much.”
Merc Four greeted them at the door. She and Carl bumped forearms, then she smiled and looked at Agent Palmer.
“Hey, Nance.”
Palmer smiled slightly. “Cassiopeia Englebaum.” She stepped forward and they hugged like old school buddies for a moment. “Good to see you again.”
Carl said, “I’d forgotten that was your name.” He’d only ever referred to her as Merc Four.
Merc Four shrugged and gave him a har
d smile. “What can I say? I didn’t pick either one of those damn names. It was my pappy and my hubby. Bastards, both of ‘em.”
Carl glanced between the two female warriors. “So, you two know each other?”
“Nance and I shot it out in an all-services sniper competition a couple years ago.”
Palmer said. “Only a handful of men on the planet could have made those shots like Cassy did from over a mile away yesterday. But, when I read the after-action report and saw three tangos were hit inside of five seconds, I knew that was Cassy’s handiwork.”
“Tangos?” Carl said.
Palmer nodded. “Tango is the military’s phonetic word for the letter T, and target starts with a T.”
“I got it,” Carl said. “So tango is for target.” He notched his eyebrows with renewed respect for his female mercenary. Three kill shots within the space of five seconds…from a mile away! Despite the fact that her long-distance shooting had saved his life, he didn’t know the details and wouldn’t have understood their significance until just that moment when Palmer put things into proper perspective.
Merc Four said, “I always hoped we might work together again, Nance.”
“You went to the dark side, Cassy, not me.”
“Yeah, damn husband’s a bad influence.”
From a hundred feet away Merc Three said, “Hey, I can hear you.” He tapped his ear where his comm device was.
The two women shared a quiet laugh. Something told Carl it was Four that could have been the bad influence on her husband. She just looked reckless, like she was addicted to adventure. Maybe they were both already bad when they met.
The word of their arrival had obviously reached the main house because the front door flew open and eleven-year-old Julia Reyes—who pronounced her name in Spanish as Hoo-lia—ran down the steps. She was the stepdaughter of Carl’s look-alike, Alfonso Reyes, but she didn’t seem to mind his resemblance to her stepfather. After all, Reyes would have killed her along with her mother if Carl hadn’t intervened. The girl raced toward him, her long braid flopping behind her head, and literally jumped into his arms with the reckless abandon of a child who knew he would catch her.
Catch her he did, then he wrapped her up in a long hug and gave her a kiss on her forehead. He instantly forgot about his mission and felt his heart melt at the presence of the young girl. As he hugged the girl, he caught Agent Palmer’s gaze. She looked at him with concern, but made no comment. Carl followed her gaze from Julia to her mother.
Luisa Reyes was the wife of the drug lord who had kidnapped Melissa Mallory. He was an abusive husband and an equally terrible stepfather. Carl could tell Luisa both loved and hated him because of his resemblance to her husband. Julia had inexplicably bonded with him the previous morning, and he with her. He respected her, understood her, and showed her love without conditions or judgment. He was like that with kids before. He was surprised and relieved to see that this part of him hadn’t been destroyed by his terrorist persona.
The girl wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her check against his chest. He walked up the steps awkwardly, the girl sort of crab-walking backward with him.
“I knew you’d come back, Carl,” she said.
She was bilingual and spoke English almost flawlessly. They hobbled together to the top of the half-dozen steps and he pried her away finally. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, smiled down at her, and kissed her again on the forehead.
She said excitedly, “Are you gonna take us to America with you?”
“Either that, or I may just stay here with you.”
The girl rattled off the Spanish translation to her mother who now stood in the doorway. Luisa’s gaze passed over Carl, Palmer, and Merc Three. Carl could clearly see that she could not separate him from her look-alike husband as easily as her daughter could. He stepped up to her and hugged her briefly, then kissed her on the cheek.
One fact of life that he knew with certainty was that a man cannot have a relationship of any kind with a girl-child without having a relationship with her mother. As he gazed into Luisa’s eyes, he knew he could never have a relationship with this woman. Inner conflict swept over her countenance like alternating sunshine and storm clouds.
They had no history together, but knew her love for him was because he had proven he would not hurt her and because he showed genuine affection for her daughter—something her husband rarely did. The hatred was because he looked exactly like her husband, and she’d always be reminded of the look-alike’s abuse.
Carl understood her discomfort and was warmed as the woman managed a forced smile and even returned his hug. She was a beautiful woman by any measure. She stood about five-five and was a petite, curvy woman with a rich cocoa skin color. She had sharp, high cheekbones and a wide mouth with full lips and dark brown eyes that were probably friendly to everyone but Carl. Her daughter looked just like her, except in an adolescent package.
Even as Julia wrapped her arms around him again, Merc Four’s voice interrupted his reunion. “Let us know when the love fest is over, Boss, so we can get to business.”
As everyone except the new mercs passed through the foyer and into the huge living room, Carl untangled himself from Julia’s arms again and told her he’d hang out with her and her mother shortly. The two Reyes ladies went upstairs and Carl turned his attention to Agent Palmer as Merc Three came through the foyer.
Everyone looked at Carl like he was supposed to say something. He nodded at Agent Palmer to start the briefing.
“Agent Peoples,” she said. “What’s your status?”
“We’re fully operational on this end.”
“Is Director McGrath on his feet yet?”
“Negative. His bug seems to have completely taken him out of the game.”
“Bug?” Carl said.
Palmer nodded. “He thinks he picked up something at the hospital yesterday. Stephen, is there any word on Chief of Staff Martine Scallow or his intern?”
“Nothing yet.”
Palmer clarified for Carl and his team. “Both have gone missing. The intern, a young man named Marcus Aurelio, contacted Agent Peoples yesterday claiming to have information about who may have provided classified information to Melissa’s kidnappers. Agent Peoples arranged a meeting, but the intern never showed and now Martine Scallow has also dropped off the radar.”
Agent Peoples added, “Our operating assumption is that Scallow and his intern somehow discovered the traitor’s identity and have been targeted.”
Palmer said, “Are any other personnel missing?”
“I’ve got analysts at the main office looking into that. It’s a big government, but I should have something within the hour.”
“Have your analysts start at the top and work their way down.”
“Roger that. Top down.”
There was a moment of silence, then Carl said, “Okay, you’re up, Four. What’s our defensive situation here?”
He listened while Merc Four explained weapons status and placement and her tactical plans, but most of the military jargon went in one ear and out the other. He’d watched plenty of war movies and action flicks, but in the real world, he didn’t speak that language. She talked about assault paths and choke points and defensive measures and counterattacks and evac routes.
Four continued. “Apparently, Reyes was a bit paranoid. He has a helicopter parked out back. Looks like a modified EC145; a luxury Mercedes twin-engine taxi that seats eight. Probably set him back a nifty eight million.”
Merc Three said, “Pocket change for a guy like Reyes.”
Carl corrected him. “Pocket change for a guy like me now, since I have all of his five hundred million dollars.”
“Four hundred eighty-seven million and change,” Garcia added. “To be precise.”
Three waved a hand through the air. “Who’s counting pennies?”
Carl looked at Merc Four. “You were saying?”
“We also have Reyes’s armored personnel carrier h
idden in an underground bunker on the other side of that hill out yonder.” Four pointed out the window where a fifty-foot grassy knoll swept down to the surf beyond the expansive house.
“Reyes owns everything you can see along the beach for a mile total and a quarter-mile inland. The underground bunker is actually serviced by a tunnel leading from the basement garage of the house to the inland road. A couple of armored cars are parked in the basement garage just in case an emergency evac is needed.”
She spent considerable time outlining their escape plan, noting that it wouldn’t be difficult for their adversary to figure out the disposition of Carl’s defensive forces since they were on land and stationary. They had to be prepared for the very real possibility that a determined force of significant size could overrun the estate, especially if accompanied by one or more armed choppers. Everyone had to be prepared for an immediate evacuation at the first sound of the alarm or the first sign of attack.
Merc Four outlined the equipment provided by Mr. Garcia’s suppliers and by Agent Palmer’s TER resources. They had what was called a man-portable short-range radar unit. Its range was limited by its low power, but that was countered by the advantage of its emissions not being detectable by any force more than two or three miles away. They also had half a dozen antiaircraft missiles to combat helicopters or low-flying fighters. They had armor-piercing RPGs and two mini-guns to discourage a ground assault, and a brand spanking new truck-mounted 50-cal machine gun for antipersonnel work.
When it was time to abandon the mansion, they could use the armored SUVs in the basement garage, Reyes’ armored speedboat tied down at the dock, or the topside APC—armored personnel carrier.
American Terrorist Trilogy Page 41