Clay hesitated, annoyed. “We work the plan. I call Steel, give him the plate number, and he calls the military, who call the Las Vegas FBI. Supposedly they’re ready to move and we’ll hand off, and they can take over.”
Mario waved his toothpick. “I don’t like the plan.”
Clay felt impatient. “Why? It’s solid. We’re not letting them walk.”
“Even if your FBI captures these men alive, how will they get information about the other attacks from them?” Mario shook his head. “If the other terrorists are not caught and they kill hundreds or thousands, that will be our legacy.”
Anger filled Clay’s throat. “What the hell else can we do?”
“I say we grab the one who met with Diego and then go help our families. We can find out later from the terrorist where the other ISIS operatives are going. Their targets and timetables. And then inform your military.”
Clay didn't like it. “What makes you think a terrorist will be any more willing to talk to us?”
“We’ll make him.”
“You mean torture.” Clay frowned.
“My father is an expert. We play rough in Colombia too, Clay.”
“Any delay puts my brother and sister at more risk. You’ve already done your share of hurting my family.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Without taking his eyes off the road, Mario said, “This takes me away from my brother and father and puts them in more danger too.”
Clay didn’t know what to say. He felt boxed in. A foreigner was more concerned than he was with stopping terrorists in his country. What if Harry or Christie died because he wasn’t there? Damn it all to hell!
“I’ll let you decide, Clay.”
He took a deep breath and thought about being a Marine. What it meant. No choice. “Let’s take them down.” He put his phone away. Sweat poured down his chest and it wasn’t because of the heat. A Rattler lay near his feet. He was glad they had that kind of firepower.
Mario glanced at him. “I respect that you and your brother tried to rescue my sister, and I’m sorry your brother Dale was killed.”
Clay couldn’t answer as anger and grief hit him again.
“My father told us what Jack and Christie did against Vincente and Garcia. They are quite skilled.”
“Yeah.” Clay hoped that held true.
“Angel is that good too. Maybe even better.” Mario’s voice became somber. “My father said goodbye to us today.”
Clay suppressed a sarcastic reply. “What do you mean?”
“In case one or all of us don’t survive the day.”
Clay’s stomach sank. He might never see Christie or Harry alive again. “As soon as these guys get out of the city, let’s run them off the road and take them.”
“I am planning on it.”
CHAPTER 39
Steel saw too many variables and unknowns, which put them all at risk. Angel worried him the most. Just from the little he knew about him, the man was always prepared, smart, and inventive. And after Garcia and Vincente’s deaths, the assassin would assume they were coming for Diego.
The sun was bright, the sky clear.
He licked his dry lips, wishing he was with Christie. Worry for her slid into his thoughts, but he had to let it go. So far she had handled herself as well as he could have. For this Op he had sidelined her as much as possible. Hopefully they wouldn’t even need her. One last hurdle.
Pedro had been successful in planting the tracker on Diego’s car while pretending to skateboard. But according to Carlos it had been too easy to follow Diego. Steel guessed Diego’s driver had been told to not lose any tails.
He was parked on the southwest edge of the Las Vegas suburbs, waiting for Carlos’ call. They needed to be sure Diego was heading to the desert hideaway Carlos had shown them.
While he waited, Colonel Jeffries called. He had informed Jeffries earlier that Diego’s assassin, Angel, had killed his men. Jeffries wanted to help.
“I called in the favor,” said Jeffries. “The drone just looked at the canyon hideaway.” He described the intel from the drone.
“Perfect.” Steel wasn't surprised.
“I want all of them dead for killing my men, Steel.”
“That’s the plan, colonel. I have one more request.”
“Name it.”
“We don’t need any Las Vegas police coming out to investigate a gun battle.”
“I’ll run interference, tell them it’s an Army exercise. Good luck.” Jeffries hung up.
In twenty minutes his phone rang. Carlos.
“They’re headed in your direction, Steel. Still driving slow.”
“I’m leaving now.” He pulled out onto the highway, driving fast. Checking his watch, he figured he had a half hour before Diego arrived.
The dry red and brown landscape led into the hills and mountains to the west. Near the foothills he exited onto a dirt road, still heading west. Soon he was a mile north of the dead-end road leading to Diego’s canyon hideaway.
He stopped to look south at the canyon entrance with the binoculars. The drone had picked up snipers. He quickly picked out a path that would maximize his chances of avoiding being spotted.
Driving across the intersection, he headed straight into the desert. Sagebrush and cactus dotted the low hills that led to higher elevations. He drove as fast as he could without risking hitting the bigger rocks and cacti, and to minimize the chance of getting stuck in the sand.
Cactus wrens flew from his path, and once he spotted a greater roadrunner fleeing far ahead of the car. He didn’t like driving over the desert, knowing it was a more fragile ecosystem than it appeared.
Halfway to the foothills he turned southwest.
It took ten minutes of careful maneuvering to reach a medium-sized hill he had picked out. He drove around to the west side of it, and up the back of it, parking the car at an incline.
Getting out, he looked east. He couldn’t see the road so the car would remain hidden from Diego and his men.
Slinging the silenced G28 over his shoulder, he stuffed the Glock into his belt. The binoculars, M3, and the three rounds went into the bag Jeffries had given them. He ran. Up and down the sides of small hills, steadily gaining in elevation while hoping no one spotted him. Sweat covered his torso and limbs and his shirt was soaked with it.
Two-thirds of the way up he slowed to a fast walk. The climb had worn him down.
Larger rocks provided more cover for him as he made his way south toward the canyon. A quarter-mile later he stopped by a boulder, got out the binoculars, and scanned the slopes above him that overlooked Diego’s house. He searched for the snipers the drone had spotted.
On the canyon ridge a man sat with a rifle behind a rock, facing south. The sniper never looked in his direction. He knew why.
Swinging the binoculars farther west and slightly higher in elevation, he searched for the second sniper. He glimpsed the rifle barrel of the second spotter aimed in his general direction. The man’s shoulder was visible. The backup for the lower sniper. There was no time to circle above the second sniper.
Unslinging the rifle, he knelt and took aim at the higher spotter through the telescopic sight. Then he swung the gun to target the lower sniper. He repeated this maneuver three times, noting the distance he had to move the rifle barrel, the change in elevation, and how long it took him to do it. A half second if he did it right.
Aiming at the shoulder of the higher spotter, he fired. Immediately he swung the rifle and targeted the chest of the turning lower sniper. He squeezed the trigger again. The second target slumped to the ground. Swinging the G28 back to the higher sniper, he saw the man crawling on the ground. He shot him twice and the man lay still.
The air was dry and his muffled shots were noticeable. It was likely that the third sniper the drone ha
d found had heard them. It didn’t matter. He was committed now.
Moving fast, he picked up the bag and crossed the last quarter-mile of terrain until he reached the top of the sloping hill. He was just north of the house, a quarter mile above it. Stopping near the dead man, he remained in the shelter of the rock. It was safe to assume the other sniper across the canyon knew he was here.
Taking the binoculars, he poked his head out to scan the rim on the far side of the gorge. A glint of metal made him pull back just as a bullet bit the rock near his cheek. Blood ran down his face from a cut caused by a flying rock chip.
He crawled to the other side of the rock and used the rifle scope. A glint of metal stuck out from the back of a boulder across the canyon. The shooter was hidden. At least he was safe in this position.
He scanned up and down the far side of the canyon to ensure no other snipers were posted. The drone should have seen any others, but he wanted to make sure.
Angel had to be in charge of Diego’s security and planning. The assassin would have wanted two snipers on the north side, knowing the sun wouldn’t be in a shooter’s eyes on this side of the canyon. It was what Steel would have done too.
There were no cars or people below yet. Just Diego’s house. The one-story building was rectangular and ran east-west. It would be hidden from the driveway until an intruder was past the canyon choke point.
There was another narrower, lower entrance to the canyon south of the road entrance. It would also divert any potential flooding away from the house in the rainy season.
Swinging his binoculars east, he spotted three SUVs driving down the dirt road he had taken. They turned into the dead-end road and approached the canyon. It had to be Diego and his men.
Farther north he saw Christie’s red rental Camry. There were other cars behind her. He wasn’t sure if it was traffic, Pedro, Carlos, or Angel. Mario was supposed to take up the rear, but his blue truck was absent.
Using the Bluetooth, he called Christie. She picked up, and he said, “I’m set up. Tell Carlos they had two shooters on the north side, and there’s one left on the south side that I can’t get to. I’ll watch the cars behind you. Go a quarter mile past the driveway and pull over onto the shoulder. Tell Carlos there’s another entrance into the canyon south of the entrance road that he might want to take. Call me back ASAP.”
“Got it.” She hung up, but quickly called back. “Carlos said Mario had to help Clay. Clay’s vehicle was taken out by someone helping the terrorists. They’re going to try to come, but they’ll be late.”
That bothered him. Mario and Clay had military experience they needed. “All right. Hang on.”
He watched the cars following her as she stopped on the shoulder. Two vehicles went by her. One stopped. Carlos. He and Christie remained in their cars.
A beat up old brown sedan made the turn into the driveway. Pedro.
An expensive-looking white sedan drove past the driveway, past Christie and Carlos, and kept going.
Steel said to Christie, “Angel might be in the white sedan that just went by you. If it turns around be careful.”
“Got it. Do we assume Angel still has Harry and Isabella?”
“Absolutely. Keep the line open.” He looked north. No other traffic.
He scanned farther south. The white sedan had pulled onto the shoulder a mile away and was making a U-turn in the road, heading north again. “Heads up, Christie. Has to be Angel in the white sedan coming north. Remember, Clay thought Angel had an FN P90 when they were attacked.”
She responded immediately. “I’ll tell Carlos.”
He held his breath, hoping Angel wasn’t going to try a drive-by shooting. But the white sedan passed Christie and Carlos without incident, and then pulled into the driveway, heading toward the canyon.
Carlos waited a minute before driving his truck into the desert south of the driveway. Christie turned her car around and stopped on the opposite shoulder, ready to drive in.
Satisfied, Steel opened the duffel bag and pulled out the M3. He wanted the scene under control before Christie entered the canyon. Lying down beside the rock, he set up the G28, observing the SUVs arriving below.
An idea came to him. Grabbing the sniper rifle, he moved back from the edge fifty feet, and ran east in a crouch parallel to the cliff edge. In twenty yards he stopped by another rock.
Using the rifle scope, he gazed across the canyon. The sniper on the opposite side was still hidden, but one of his hands was visible on his rifle, which was pointed east. Probably at Carlos. He aimed at the man’s hand—and squeezed the trigger. The sniper’s hand and gun disappeared behind the rock.
Uncertain of his success, he scrambled back to his bag and the M3.
Below him the three SUVs had parked single file in a line parallel to the house. The men emptied out of the SUVs on the driver’s side, opposite him. He counted twelve, including Diego. They stood around as if waiting for something. Maybe for Angel.
That didn’t fit. The shooter across the canyon must have informed Diego that a sniper had killed two of their men and had just shot at him. Why weren’t they acting more concerned?
Some of the men were occupied with something inside the vehicles. Even if they had high caliber weapons, Steel could easily control the situation from up here.
He was tempted to begin firing on them but wanted to wait until Carlos was in position. Without Mario and Clay bringing up the rear, it would be too easy for the men below to escape. And he wanted all of them dead.
Pedro’s car barreled through the choke point, flying past the SUVs and house. In fifty feet it made a skidding turn. Diego’s men drew machine guns from the SUVs. Pedro did a circle three times in the dirt, creating a cloud of dust before he came to a stop broadside to the parked SUVs. Then he revved his engine.
Diego’s men unloaded on him with a barrage of bullets.
Steel watched the young man crawl out the front passenger door and kick it shut so he had two layers of metal between himself and the bullets. Temporary safety, but high risk. Pedro’s tactic seemed like a suicide move. Still it was buying Carlos time to get to the canyon. Steel continued to hold off firing, wanting Carlos in position first.
Angel’s car appeared. The assassin drove in, stopped, and backed his vehicle so that the trunk ended up close to the canyon wall, across from the SUVs.
Steel understood why. The man was cautious, ready for escape, and not tying his fate to the SUVs or Diego’s men.
Everything below appeared too easy and convenient. “Christie, don’t come into the canyon. Something’s wrong. Tell Carlos to watch for booby traps.”
“Roger that.”
He couldn’t see her car. The bluff hid it. He had convinced her to bring up the rear, hoping most of the fighting would be finished by the time she arrived. Making a snap decision, he put down the rifle and loaded a round into the M3.
The shooting below stopped abruptly. Maybe Pedro was dead.
“Jack Steel!”
The sniper across the canyon must have called Angel or the assassin just knew. Keeping the M3 on the ground, Steel peered over the edge. Angel stared directly at him while standing behind his car on the passenger side, his arms up in the air as if imploring him to listen.
Steel pulled his sniper rifle up as Angel kept talking.
“It is an honor to meet such a worthy opponent. I saw your skill with Garcia and heard about it with Vincente. It will be a great privilege to kill you and your family, and then bury you. Thank you for coming. I will bring Isabella and Harry out, Jack. Do you wish to see them? They are in my back seat. If you shoot at us, I will put bullets into their heads.” Angel ducked behind his car.
Steel kept his emotions in check. A sense of urgency had him hoist the M3 to his side, keeping it out of sight, but ready to go. Placing the ear muffs over his ears, he readied himself for firing.<
br />
He grimaced. If he aimed the M3 at Angel or his car, he could kill Harry too. A diversion would help. He spoke softly: “Christie, tell Carlos and Pedro it’s a go.”
He peered over the edge. Angel had the rear passenger door open and was leaning into the car. What was going on? None of it made sense to him. Maybe Angel planned to use Harry and Isabella as shields.
Diego stared up at him from the far side of the lead SUV, smiling, something in his hands.
He finally understood. Grabbing the M3 and rifle, he slid his legs over the edge of the canyon and jumped. He hit the steep slope ten feet down and slid farther on his back. An explosion rocked the cliff just above him. The blast pushed him down faster.
Two more explosions went off along the top of the cliff.
His side slammed into a small boulder but he managed to hang onto his weapons. It took a few deep breaths to gather himself. Christie yelled his name on his Bluetooth. He couldn’t respond. His ears rang and his body trembled. He looked at the vehicles below.
Angel had an RPG-7 on his shoulder, aimed at him.
Steel rose to his feet in a crouch and jumped, still holding both weapons.
Angel fired the RPG.
The boulder behind Steel exploded as he landed on his back on dirt and gravel, sliding down the hill. He was numb as bits of soil and rock rained down on him. Fifty feet down, a clump of rocks provided a brake for his slide. His feet hit them hard, his legs taking the impact.
Machine gun fire erupted and bullets traced lines in the slope on either side of him. He bent his knees to move closer to the rocks his shoes rested against. The barrage prevented any lateral movement.
His chest heaved as he studied the landscape left and right. The rocks gave him little protection. If he sat up they could easily shoot him. Expecting Angel to fire another RPG, he braced his legs to jump again.
Movement brought his attention to the right. Pedro was crouched behind his car and flinging something at the lead SUV. A grenade.
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