by John O'Brien
“Okay, I think we’ve had some time to look over the information. We’re going to assume that the intel is correct…I know, I know,” I say, “when is the intel ever correct—but it’s what we have. So, first reactions,” I brief.
“It’s a big place and there’s a ton of ground for a team of six to keep covered,” Gonzalez states.
“I’m assuming that Henderson and I will be maintaining an overwatch position. If so, those palm trees are going to interfere with open lines of sight down into the courtyard,” Denton chimes in.
“Not only that, but access is too easy from the beach side. Anyone can just walk up to the main pool area and begin unloading before we can react,” Greg comments. “And then they can easily walk over to the other pool area and start doing the same, or both at once.”
A moment of silence ensues.
“You know, if I were doing this, I’d have one team coming from the beach and start unloading into the main pool area. Others would be waiting inside for the eventual fleeing panic and start firing into the massed people at the doors. Hit it quickly from two sides and then drop the weapons in place and join the panicked mob as it flees,” McCafferty says.
“Remind me not to ever piss you off,” Greg comments, followed by other nods of agreement. “I’ll bet your future shrink is going to have a heyday.”
“What? It’s just the most obvious plan for them to take if they want to cause the most bloodshed in the shortest period of time.”
“Yeah, but still. I’d hate to see what other thoughts rattle around in that pretty head of yours,” Greg says.
“At least she has thoughts and brain space for them to rattle around in,” I comment.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Greg says, sending a glowering look in my direction.
“Well, I only meant as opposed to having solid bone through and through,” I reply. Then, under my breath. “Like someone else in this room.”
“What was that, Jack? I didn’t hear that last part clearly,” Greg inquires.
“I believe he said ‘like someone else he knows.’ You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say he was calling you a bonehead,” Gonzalez says, giving me an innocent smile.
“I most certainly did not say that,” I respond.
“No?” Gonzalez says, looking even more innocent, if that were possible.
“What I said was, ‘I like someone else in this room.’ You obviously misheard that,” I reply.
“Oh, well, we already knew that,” McCafferty says, risking a look toward Lynn.
I look up quickly, feeling the red flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks. Lynn caught McCafferty’s glance and turns in my direction, tilting her head ever so slightly. I can’t really intuit her expression, but it seems confused, searching, or contemplative. Maybe a mix of those. Either way, I feel like my cheeks are glowing as red as Rudolph’s nose.
“Dammit, that’s not what I meant to say. What I meant was…what I meant to say was, um…dammit…I hate you all. So, anyway, remember…mission things…planning…focus? Let’s get back to that. So, where were we?”
“Big hotel, lots of ground to cover, palm trees, sight lanes, preventing people from being massacred,” Gonzalez replies.
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” I say, still feeling flushed but the heat of it diminishing. “Okay, as McCafferty so delicately mentioned, I imagine a hit and run operation, taking down as many as they can in a short period of time. That means a daytime op centered on the open pool areas. I can’t see them waiting for night and going room to room. But, there are the restaurants at night, so we have to keep those in mind.”
“You know, they could place bombs. They book bottom floor rooms, check in with suitcases, and leave them there. With enough, they could bring down the structures, and if done at night, well, you can imagine the rest,” McCafferty comments.
“What is wrong with you?” Greg asks, shaking his head.
“Maybe I hit my head when you rocketed me over that Afghani wall,” McCafferty counters.
“She’s right, you know. That is an option, and one the cartels have never shied away from. I’ll start vetting everyone who has reservations, bottom floor or not,” Lynn says.
Arranging the sheets in front of her and placing them into a folder, she pushes her chair back. Giving me a small glancing look, she walks out of the room. I follow her progress, trying to keep my observations hidden. I softly sigh as she leaves, turning my attention back to the mission at hand.
“I’m sorry for saying anything, sir,” McCafferty says quietly.
“It’s no big deal,” I reply.
“You know, you should–” Gonzalez starts.
“Never mind any of that. We have planning to do. McCafferty has come up with a couple of plausible scenarios. Let’s hash this out. The beach looks like the easiest access. We can count on the pool areas being crowded, so it’ll be difficult to track any one person or a group forming. The bonus is that weapons will be harder to hide, so if anyone approaches in something other than swimwear, they’ll stand out,” I begin.
“They could also be employees of the resort, or at least dressed like them. Staff are kind of invisible and they could get around easily. Perhaps hiding weapons in carts,” Gonzalez suggests.
“That’s a good point,” Greg agrees. “Even if they weren’t going to bomb the place, they could still be registered guests. They’d still have the same problem if they carried their weapons in the open, but they could hide them in their rooms and come out through bottom floor patios to start firing. As far as that goes, they could have balcony rooms and fire from there, although that would make escape more difficult.”
“I suppose we’ll have to wait for Lynn’s report on the guests. If we can eliminate the guests as suspects, then disguising themselves as employees or coming from the beach are pretty much what remains,” I say.
After a few moments of thought, I add, “I also wouldn’t discount masquerading as local police. That would allow them to carry any weapons in the open and people wouldn’t be the wiser.
“Now, we won’t be able to cover the entire place 24/7 with just six people. I suggest that we focus on the main pool. If something happens elsewhere, we’ll have to regroup and respond accordingly. Although we’d like to prevent something from happening in the first place, our true job will be to minimize casualties. When outside of our rooms, we’ll carry our carbines with folding stocks in zippered, non-military bags. Henderson and Denton will be in overwatch positions, taking shifts day and night. During the day, two by the central pool with one in the lobby and another roaming between the two pools. We’ll periodically rotate positions during the day. At night, we’ll run shifts. One in the main lobby and one near the courtyard restaurant to start with. When the restaurant closes, one will be in the main lobby and another in the secondary building lobby.”
“That doesn’t leave a lot of rest time for any of us,” Greg comments.
“That’s why we get paid the big bucks,” I state.
“I think we have different contracts,” Greg mutters.
Lynn returns after a while, walking in and sitting with a heavy sigh.
“Okay, I’ve done my best to vet the guests. So far, everything checks out; no red flags.”
“What about rooms that could be used without going through reservations? Some staff with access could just let anyone in and we’d be none the wiser,” I question.
“All of the bottom and second floor rooms are booked and the names check out,” Lynn answers. “I have an app running that will notify me of any changes.”
“Okay, I think we can tentatively rule out guests. What about the staff?”
“I can run that, but I don’t believe it’ll be of much use. They can insert staff, or at least dress like them, at any time. The cartel has their hand in everything, so it wouldn’t be difficult to put someone in place,” Lynn says.
“So, any check is meaningless.”
“Pretty much.”
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br /> “Well, at least we can do away with the guest variable. That will make it a little easier,” I say. “I believe we’re going to need three balcony rooms, second or third floor, overlooking the main pool area. If possible, I’d like them adjoining,” I comment.
“I’ll see what I can do. Everything on your list will be delivered to your rooms,” Lynn replies.
* * * * * *
The flight out is unremarkable, just the usual continuous roar of the engines and the vibration of the airframe. Missing is the chill that never seems to go away. It was always either too warm or too cold in the back of a 130, but the mods to this one included additional insulation.
Landing at NAS North Island, we’re shuttled over to the San Diego International Airport. An hour and a half later, we’re lifting off over the ocean, the aircraft immediately banking to the south. Climbing, it isn’t long until we cross the border into Mexico. Staring out of the window, crammed next to Gonzalez, I see the mountainous spine running the length of Baja California. Pockets of flatter land are on the western side where the mountains pull back from the ocean, allowing nestled communities to form, hemmed in between the brown rising terrain to one side and the sparkling blue waters on the other.
The eastern portion of the peninsula just looks hot. I’ve been there a couple of times and can attest that the land is indeed situated only a mile from the sun. The blue waters of the Gulf of California provide a direct contrast to the barren land exhibiting alternating shades of brown in northern Mexico. Before long, the drab colors change to the green forested ridges of the western slopes of the central highlands. Along the sides of those mountains lie the marijuana and poppy fields, together with the processing plants hidden under the jungle canopy.
That’s the thing about the layers of civilization. Where one traveler may see the beauty of the wild, mountainous jungle areas, I see it differently. It all depends on which layer you happen to reside in. It’s sad in a way. I wish I could look at things in a different light at times, and I do have those moments when I’m with family, but generally I view everything through the lens of the world in which I am operating.
It’s funny how my perspective changes when I’m out of the country. When I’m at home with the kids, I’m allowed to live in a different realm. But once I leave on assignment, I sink into the lower layers. Even on vacation, when traveling into small villages or some other place, I carry the anxiousness and find myself looking at windows and alleyways for an ambush. Some view crowded markets as something new and exciting, whereas I see a car bomb waiting to decimate lives. Believe me, I don’t like it and wish it could be otherwise. Perhaps in time, when I retire, I’ll be able to experience the enjoyment that others find.
“You should ask her out,” Gonzalez says out of the blue.
“What?” I respond, coming out of my thoughts.
“Lynn…you should just tell her or just ask her out…or something like that.”
“I can’t possibly know what you mean.”
“Yeah, sure...oookay, sir. If you say so, but it’s pretty damn obvious to everyone that you like her. I’m a woman and I know the signs. The furtive looks when you think no one else is watching. The soft sighs,” Gonzalez replies.
“Even if I were interested, you well know that something like that with someone you work with is never a good idea. It ruins the dynamic of the team. Even if it’s just a fling,” I respond.
“That may be true most of the time, but that doesn’t mean all of the time. So, is your plan to just sit around and torment yourself, sir?”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“Suit yourself. If it means anything, I think she likes you as well, but is hiding it behind her air of professionalism. She may not show much behind that façade, but there are subtle signs.”
“Be that as it may, there really isn’t much I can do about it. We have jobs to do, and I, for one, don’t need the distraction. This monster-hunting thing is kind of new, and I’m honestly afraid that if I’m not completely focused, if I’m distracted at an inopportune time, then that will be it. I have my kids to think about.”
“The converse is that you’ll have missed an opportunity. That’s just the way I see it, sir.”
“Why are you so interested in matchmaking me? What did I ever do to you?” I question.
“Honestly, I’ve seen other men who were also too stubborn to see what was in front of them and did nothing about it. Now some, they were just assholes, so I never bothered saying anything. But you are decent, a good person, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“Sooo, what I took out of all that is that you think I’m stubborn,” I comment.
Gonzalez looks at me and shrugs.
“Well, I appreciate it, but I think things are fine the way they are. I’m already always looking over one shoulder. I don’t need to put myself in a position where I have to be looking over both of them.”
“That would probably come with the territory. She seems kind of feisty,” Gonzalez says with a chuckle.
I return the laugh. “I think you have that one right. Day one, she took me aside and flat out told me that my way of doing things wasn’t going to fly.”
“Was she right?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Is it…sir?”
“Yes…no…ugh. See, this is why I don’t talk to people.”
“Which is another way of saying I’m right…thank you for that validation, sir,” Gonzalez says.
“Do you hear that?”
Gonzalez pauses, listening.
“I don’t hear anything, sir?”
“That’s the sound of no one caring,” I say, then growl and turn back to the window, staring down at the lush greenery and rough terrain.
“What do you see when you look down there?” I ask Gonzalez.
She loosens her seatbelt and leans over me to look out of the window.
“Do you mean besides mountains and jungle?”
“Yeah, what else?”
“I see another bitch,” she answers.
“What?!”
“Yeah, a bitch. I imagine what it’s like having to traverse that and remember having to hike up and down terrain like that when we were chasing after that last group. Yeah, not fun,” Gonzalez answers.
“No, that wasn’t my idea of a carnival ride either.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, why are you asking?”
“Oh, no reason, I suppose. I was just thinking about the differing layers of civilization earlier and how each of us sees things differently depending on which layer we operate in,” I answer.
“And what do you see when you look down?”
“I see cover for drug production and guerilla groups. Although now, I see something much more sinister hiding in those shadows.”
“Sucks not to be normal, doesn’t it?” Gonzalez states.
“Yeah, it sometimes makes me wish that I had chosen a different path.”
“I know we’ve had this conversation before, or at least something similar. But someone has to do the things we’re doing in order for people to live their normal lives. It’s frustrating as hell at times when we’re cursed, called names, protested against. But you and I both know that they’d live in fear if it weren’t for us. And, there are many others, the majority, who appreciate what we do.”
Gonzalez goes quiet for a moment before continuing.
“Normal isn’t what we were destined for. You’d be bored to tears working in an office or out on some job site. We’d all attempt to create something we felt was missing from our lives and fail miserably. Take Denton, for example. He’d continue searching for the biggest wave to ride until he found one that overmatched him. Lynn would be in and out of bad relationships and leading a miserable life if she didn’t have something like this to focus on. Henderson would be on every sheriff’s list in all of the surrounding counties. The others, who knows, but probably something similar,” Gonzalez says.
/> “That may be true, but normal sounds like a good thing at times. Worrying about rush hour sounds a whole lot better than where the next bullet is going to hit. Or if I’m going to be bitten and torn apart. Okay, maybe that’s a bad example, but you get what I mean. So, what you’re getting at is not only are we allowing others to live their normal lives, but we’re saving our own as well? I’m not so sure I believe that in its entirety,” I comment. “What about the two of us?”
“Why, we’re adrenaline junkies, sir. Deny it if you want, but you know that to be true. You’d be chasing one reckless adventure after another.”
“I can’t deny that. But at least I wouldn’t be getting shot at,” I reply.
“No?”
“Well, I probably, maybe, hopefully wouldn’t be getting shot at. And you?”
“I’d probably get drawn into gang life, like my brother. So, this is my escape. Some of us didn’t really have much choice initially, but all of us have found a family here. So, normal, sir? Nah, I don’t think any of us would have lasted long out there in the civilian world. We might wish for it, perhaps even long for it at times, but none of us were meant for it.”
“Maybe. But I’m old and closing in on my time. I can see the light of retirement ahead, if that time hasn’t already come and gone, and I wonder what that may hold. I find myself looking at and longing for other lives. I know they have their stresses, but honestly, I wish I didn’t know the half of what I do, or have the memories that cycle though my head in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t we all. What do you envision for your retirement, sir?”
“I see a cabin in the woods, retiring from not only this, but society in general. That might bring enough peace to compensate for all of the bad times.”
“And, no one will be around when you flip out,” Gonzalez says with a playful smile.
“That’s pretty much the plan.”
“Well, until then, you have to put up with us. Or us with you…I’m not sure which way that leans.”
“It’s me putting up with you guys, no question.”