“Follow the woman, Jefe?”
“If they can find her.” He gave the smaller man a sinister scowl. “She has already slipped their grasp once. Remind them that she is not one to be trifled with.”
“Of course, Jefe. At once.”
El Fantasma sat back in the high-backed leather chair and swiveled slowly back and forth. Hs eyes fell to a silver framed photograph on the desk. “Very soon, you will be avenged, my love.”
6
Southeastern Oklahoma
* * *
Bobby sat behind the wheel of the Tahoe and tapped at the steering wheel. “Relax, Bridger. They’ll be here.”
He didn’t look at Gregg. “They’re late.”
“There could have been traffic.”
Bobby turned and gave him a narrowed stare. “Traffic? Here?”
Gregg shrugged. “Maybe a cow got in the road. Or they’re stuck behind a logging truck.”
Bobby glanced at his watch then turned his attention back to the road. A beat up old pickup made the curve, grey-white smoke belching from the exhaust as it slowed and pulled into the gas station.
Bobby reached for the door handle and stepped into the chill air just as DJ set the parking brake and stepped out. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it.”
Lisa slammed her door and strode quickly to the Tahoe. “So was I.”
“Fuck it’s cold.” DJ pulled a heavy Carhartt jacket on as he approached the Tahoe.
“That’s what you get for living in Florida.” Bobby slid back into the driver’s seat as the other two climbed in the rear. “I’m surprised you made it in that thing.”
“How far to this camp of yours?” Lisa asked, checking the signal on her burner phone.
“Not far,” Gregg chimed in. “If you can call it a camp. It’s more like an outbuilding with a toilet.”
Bobby glanced to the rear view before pulling onto the highway. “If Gregg had his way we’d be staying at the Five Seasons.”
“Four,” he corrected. “There’s ‘five star’ hotels and then there’s the Four Seasons.” He groaned and sat back in his seat. “And yes, I’d much rather be there. I thought the one in Scottsdale was nice, but man, when we went to Maui—”
“What’s the sitrep, Top?” DJ interrupted.
Bobby slowly shook his head. “As of now, you know what I know. Mauk called me, and he was holed up here.” He glanced to the rearview then sighed. “Whoever it is that’s after us means business.”
“They’re Spanish,” DJ stated. “Or, anyway the assholes that came after me were speaking Spanish. One of them survived long enough to say ‘Murillo.’”
“Then this must be tied to Colombia,” Bridger said as he turned off the highway.
“And somebody named Hermana,” DJ added. “It was one of the shooter’s dying words.”
Lisa’s head spun and she stared at him. “Hermana means: ‘sister.’”
DJ gave her a confused look. “Like…not a name?”
Bridger’s mind raced. “Did Murillo have a sister?” His mind flipped through the different attacks that they had made on the Murillo cartel before they’d split and gone their different ways.
“I’ll check as soon as we get back to a signal.” Gregg made a mental note, his eyes scanning for any more walking bushes as the Tahoe maneuvered through the forested roads.
“Jesus, Bridger. Where is this place?” Lisa asked.
“About as deep into the park as you can get and still be near a road.” Bridger slowed for a sharp turn then goosed the SUV up an ice slicked road. “Thankfully, this time of year, there’s hardly anybody up here.”
DJ leaned forward. “You’d think Mauk would have his own cabin in the woods even deeper from civilization than this.”
Bridger nodded. “He does.” He glanced at DJ’s reflection. “But it’s trackable. He was able to rent this under an alias.”
Lisa shook her head. “I don’t like this. We won’t be able to see them coming.”
Bridger smiled to himself. “But they’ll have to be close to get us. Snipers are useless in woods this dense.”
DJ sat back and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “I think I’d rather not see it coming if it’s all the same.”
“I’d rather not die at all,” Gregg added. “I’m too pretty to die.”
Mauk could barely keep his eyes open as the group settled in. He poured a fresh cup of coffee and fished in his pocket for the caffeine pills.
Bridger caught his hand and gave him a raised brow. “What is that?”
“Just caffeine, brother.” He held the bottle up and shook it. “I’m almost out.”
“You need sleep, not stimulants.” Bridger relaxed his grip. “If they track us here, we all need you alert.”
Mauk raised a brow and held the bottle up. “This is alert.”
Bridger sighed and stepped away. “I’d rather you be rested.”
“So would I.” Mauk popped the white tablets and washed it down with the coffee
“This ain’t gonna work,” Gregg muttered, glancing around the small cabin. “There’s five of us and a double bed.”
“I’ll take the couch.” Lisa tossed her bag to the ratty couch and walked to the coffee pot.
DJ pulled out a chair and spun it around backward. He sat in the chair and leaned across the back. “We need a game plan that doesn’t involve sitting here and waiting.”
Bridger stood beside the door, occasionally peeking through the threadbare curtain. “We’ve got a plan. It’s just that nobody is going to like it.”
“Let me guess…” Gregg moaned.
Bobby smiled. “We hide and wait.”
“There’s snow on the ground, Bridger.” Gregg was on his feet now.
Bobby nodded. “If they can track DJ to the ‘glades, they can track us here. I’d rather be cold for a bit and remove them first, than chance them getting the drop on us.”
“There are more cabins available,” Mauk stated. “I reserved another one when Bridger said he was coming.”
The group turned and looked at him.
Mauk set his coffee down then pulled a brochure from his pocket. “This is a crude map of the park. I X’d off the available cabins.” He set the brochure on the small dinette table and tapped the Xs. “I reserved this one. These over here are empty too.” He looked up at the group. “Anybody see what I see?”
Bridger nodded slowly. “A kill zone right in the middle.”
Mauk pushed the map away. “You’re welcome.”
Bridger turned to Gregg. “Call them and reserve three more cabins. If we have an operator in each one, we’ll increase our odds of surviving this.”
DJ stood and crossed his arms. “Top, I’ve only got a .45 and three mags to my name.”
“Ditto,” Lisa stated.
Bridger held a finger up. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out of the cabin and returned a moment later carrying the two large duffles. He dropped them in the floor then hunkered to unzip them. He held a 12 gauge out to Mauk. “Your preferred close quarters weapon, I believe.”
Mauk smiled as he pumped the tactical shotgun. “Oh, baby. Come to poppa.”
He pulled the Lapua out and set it aside. “Probably not the best weapon for dense woods, but there’s more.” He pulled out a short barreled M4 and three boxes of ammunition. “Go easy on that fun switch, DJ. That’s all the .556 I brought.”
“Single fire is more accurate anyway.” DJ slammed a magazine into the well and chambered a round. “Smooth.”
“She’s match grade, brother.” Bridger dug into the second bag and pulled up two submachine guns. He handed the HK MP5s to Lisa. “If you’d like a pair?”
She pointed into the bag. “I’d rather have the Sig 552. Those are chambered in .223, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He handed her the rifle. “I only have three mags for it so you may have to reload on the fly.”
“No problem.” She shoved the magazine into the magwell a
nd cradled the rifle. “So we have the armaments. Anybody got a clue why they’ve targeted us after all this time?”
Gregg hung up the phone and nodded to Bridger. “The cabins are ours. I charged them to Baba Yaga’s ghost account.” He slipped the phone into his pocket and turned to the group. “I have a theory on the ‘why.’”
“We’re all ears, brother,” DJ said as he reached for the coffee pot.
“While I was on the phone renting the cabins, my fingers strolled through the DEA databases. Turns out Murillo did have a sister.” His features hardened as he spun his screen around. “There weren’t many pictures of her available, since she’s dead. But check this one out.”
He spun his laptop around and the group leaned in to look at the photo. Lisa finally shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve ever laid eyes on her before.”
“In the background.” Gregg tapped over the woman’s shoulder. “Recognize the car?”
“Is that a Range Rover?” DJ asked.
Gregg nodded. “A yellow Rover.” He raised a brow, waiting for the group to connect the dots.
Bridger’s eyes shot wide. “Oh, fuck me.”
The group turned to him in unison. “What?”
Bridger swallowed hard. “Remember when we warned Laughlin that our target wasn’t in the car and he had us blow the bridge anyway?” He waited a moment for them to recollect the event. “We told him that it was full of women and children?”
DJ’s eyes widened. “Murillo’s sister was in the car?”
Lisa fell back onto the couch. “And he’s waited all of this time to get revenge for killing his sister?”
“Wait a second.” Bridger shook his head. “I thought I’d read that Murillo was dead?”
Gregg shrugged. “He could have faked it.”
DJ groaned. “So, somehow, Murillo finds out that we infiltrated his people, he kills Mario, and then waits for years to come after us? That doesn’t fly, Top.”
Bridger chewed at his lower lip. “Either he didn’t have the connections to track us until recently or…” He looked to Gregg. “Maybe he was waiting for us to become complacent?”
Gregg shrugs. “Whatever the reason for the delay, it sounds like he’s coming after us now.”
Mauk gave them a knowing look. “It’s been about twenty years. Maybe this sister had a kid…and now he’s large and in charge and ready to avenge mommy’s death?”
“Too many if’s,” Bridger growled. “But whoever it is, they mean business.”
Lisa stood and slung the Sig over her shoulder. “Let them come.”
7
Southeastern Oklahoma
* * *
Bobby Bridger dropped the duffel bags onto the floor of the cabin and cleared the adjacent rooms out of habit. He pulled the curtains on the few exterior windows and left a slight gap that he could scan the surroundings through. Going room to room, he unscrewed the light bulbs just enough that they couldn’t be turned on then settled in on the couch and began to strip and clean his weapons.
DJ had the first watch and would patrol between the cabins, making sure that he walked between the patches of snow, leaving a minimal footprint. With the setting sun, the temperature dropped significantly and Gregg donated a set of thermals and a parka.
DJ found a spot where the slight breeze was minimized and set up a nest. He had a clear sight of all of the cabins and noted that they all stayed dark once the sun set. He knew the team members and understood their thinking. By keeping to the dark, their eyes were fully adjusted to the moonlight outside and there was no need for night vision or infra-red goggles.
DJ blew warm breath into his mittens and rubbed his hands together to generate as much heat as possible. He cringed at the tiny puff of steam that rose from his face when he did it, but he’d lost all sensation in his fingers and knew that if trouble came that night, he’d need full use of his hands.
He heard the slight spark of static in his earbud before Bridger’s voice whispered, “Woodpecker, sitrep.”
DJ clenched his jaw so that his teeth would stop chattering. “All clear, Top.”
He stared at the cabin that Bridger had claimed and knew that the man was standing watch along with him. The only difference was that he had the relative warmth of the small electric heater that hummed away in the corner of his living room.
DJ grinned to himself then keyed his coms. “If you’re gonna stay up, you could bring me some hot cocoa.”
“Yeah, that would be a negative, Pecker.”
DJ fought the urge to correct him. In his mind he was screaming, “WOODpecker.” He threw a one finger salute towards Bridger’s cabin instead.
He settled in and pulled the knit cap lower on his head. What was I thinking volunteering for the first watch? This cold is for the fucking birds.
He leaned back against a thick pine and instinctively turned his head to the side, straining his ears. He heard the low drone of a large engine through the trees. DJ craned his neck and stared through the timber, his eyes probing the shadows, searching for the source.
His hand slowly slipped to his coms and keyed them. “We have somebody approaching in a vehicle. No lights.”
Bridger felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and he gripped his carbine tighter, forcing his breathing to remain slow and steady. “You heard Woodpecker. Man your stations.”
Bridger knew as well as DJ that each member was standing by, waiting. Nobody would dare sleep, even if they could, with the potential threat hunting them. His eyes bounced between the cabins, noting the stillness.
He slowly worked his way to the front of the structure that faced the paved road and stared through the gap in the threadbare curtains. He caught movement through the trees and verified that whoever dared approach did so without their headlights.
“This has got to be them,” he muttered. Nobody else would dare attempt to navigate the twisting narrow roads in total darkness. He keyed his coms again, “Look alive, ladies.”
He held his breath to prevent fogging the thin, single-paned glass and watched as something dark slowly traveled up the road.
DJ’s voice came over the coms again. “No taillights. They either blacked out their transport or they’re coasting.”
Lisa’s voice whispered through the earbuds. “I see the glow of night vision goggles behind the wheel. Whoever it is, they’re up to no good.”
“I guess that seals it,” Gregg stated, his voice booming compared to the others’ whispered replies. “Do we give them first blood?”
Bridger nodded to himself. “They have to make the first move.”
“They’re stopping,” DJ reported. He slowly lowered his eye to the reticle of the scope and centered it behind the driver’s position.
“Hold,” Bridger murmured. “Hold…”
Juan Carlos Hernandez drove the four wheel drive rental slowly through the state park. His night vision goggles caused the light from the dash to nearly blind him as he tried to see through the windshield. He had turned the dash lights as low as they would go, but what would normally appear as a barely perceptible soft glow was now glaring.
“Are you certain of the cabin?”
Pablo Ortega checked his weapon again for the fifth time. “Si! I am certain!”
“What if the woman warned them?” Juan slowed for a sharp curve and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Then we paid her entirely too much,” Jose Rodriguez muttered as he stared through the inky black windshield. “How close are we?”
Pedro Garcia pointed over his shoulder. “It should be just around that bend.”
Juan slowed the big SUV and coasted to a stop just yards from the gravel drive in front of the cabin. “There are no vehicles.” He nudged Pablo. “Are you certain this is the one?”
Pablo’s face registered his frustration as he glared at Juan. “That is what the woman said. She rents these places, and this is the one she marked on the map.”
Pedro leaned forward and point
ed past the cabin. “Behind it. There is a black truck.”
“Fine.” Juan put the big SUV in park. “Let’s do this and get home.” He opened the door as the other men donned their own night vision goggles.
The quartet made their way slowly and silently toward the cabin that Mauk had rented. Each man took up a position at a corner, allowing him to see his compatriots. They had each raised their automatic weapons, preparing to fire blindly into the cabin when suppressed shots broke the silence of the night, cutting the escuadrones matar to ribbons.
A bush rose from across the road and approached the downed men, a rifle slipping out from its grassy exterior. It approached the closest hit man and pushed him over onto his back.
The man exhaled hard, a fine mist of blood spraying from his mouth as he choked. The bush bent low and a hand extended, pushing back the hood and exposing a human face. “Who sent you?”
The killer’s eyes widened just a moment before the spark of life slipped away. The bush sighed heavily then stood and kicked the man’s weapon away. “This one is gone.”
“So are the others.”
Mauk sighed and rested his weapon against the side of the cabin. “Maybe next time we keep one alive for questioning?”
DJ appeared beside him. “I don’t know if that would do much good. Something tells me that these boys wouldn’t talk regardless.”
Lisa bent low and grabbed the ankles of the man closest to her. “I bet I could make one talk.” She began to drag the body toward the front of the cabin.
Bridger approached the rear of the blacked out SUV and opened the hatch. He stood to the side as DJ and Mauk stacked the bodies in the rear. Mauk raised a brow at him. “Do we want to dump ‘em or leave where they can be found?”
DJ slapped his frozen hands together, wiping the frozen forest floor from his mittens. “Does it matter? When these guys don’t check in, they’ll know.”
Burning Bridges Page 5