Lady of the Dead: A Lawson Vampire Mission (The Lawson Vampire Series)

by Jon F. Merz

  I chewed another Dorito and nodded. “No sense waiting any longer.”

  5

  From Patzcuaro, we drove south on highway 120 for a few miles. The town fell away in our wake and the night grew darker. Juarez slid his window back up and turned the heater on.

  “It will be cold tonight,” he said. “Are you prepared for that?”

  I was dressed in layers, and the cold didn’t bother me too much anyway. Once I’d had a hit of juice, my system would be able to deal with pretty much anything. “I’ll be able to handle it just fine.”

  Juarez nodded and seemed relieved I wasn’t going to ask him to bring me a blanket or a Teddy bear.

  “How good is this information you got about this location?” I asked.

  Juarez shrugged. “As with anything, it is unknown until the time comes to actually use it. I trust the person I spoke with, if that helps.”

  I frowned. How many times before had I heard that? Still, if he said it was good intel, then I had to believe him. There was no way I was going to be able to breeze into Mexico and ask around for the leader of a drug cartel. I would have drawn kill teams to me like moths to a light bulb.

  Plus, that went against the parameters of the mission. Niles wanted me to paint this like the Russians had done it. And while the Russians might have been the type to kick in a door over in Eastern Europe, they weren’t going to do that in Mexico where they would have stuck out like a middle-aged balding man with erectile dysfunction in a porn flick.

  But going low profile meant having to rely on information that might not be top drawer stuff. Sketchy sources often had their own reasons for selling you information, and none of those reasons had my health and future vitality at heart, I was willing to bet.

  The single lane highway stretched before us as we drove. I was getting sleepy, a symptom of being bored out of my skull. Times like this were always the worst. The wait before you got on the target was always an exercise in patience. You just want to get there, get the job done, and get the hell home. But when you have to rely on someone else to do their part, it tends to suck.

  Overhead, the sky was inky, pockmarked by thousands of stars. Juarez switched the stereo back onto more hits from the 80s. No Promises by Icehouse spilled from the speakers and I found myself listening to the lyrics, thinking about life, and generally losing myself prior to the op.

  It was right after the song finished that Juarez pointed out of the windshield ahead of us. “Ario de Rosales. Last stop before I drop you off.”

  Something about his voice made me perk up. “Everything okay?”

  Juarez shrugged as he turned off the stereo again. “We are deep in La Familia territory now. If they even suspect our intentions, they will simply shoot us without thinking about it.”

  “Well, let’s try to just breeze on through. You tanked us up with gas so there’s no reason to stop.”

  Juarez nodded. “I have heard that they will stop vehicles on this stretch of road at night, however.”

  I slid the pistol out from my side holster and racked the slide. “Well, let’s hope they’re taking a break tonight.”

  We approached the few lights of Ario de Rosales, which looked pretty much like a gas station, small market, and a few scattered homes nearby. I saw no evidence of anything resembling a vehicle checkpoint or some type of potential ambush.

  Juarez exhaled as we passed the town. “I was worried,” he said a moment later.

  I slid the pistol back into my thigh holster and clapped him on the shoulder. “Forget about it. Just get me to the drop-off and you’ll be clear.”

  Juarez nodded and we sat in silence for another ten minutes. Finally, he slowed the car and took us off the highway into a small culvert on the left side of the road. He switched the headlights off and then turned to look at me.

  “We are here.” He pointed out of the windshield and I followed his gaze.

  Before us, a mountain shot up from the earth. Lots of scrub brush dotted the landscape along with some tall spindly conifers. I surveyed the area, but it only reminded me of some of the landscape I’d seen in Afghanistan some years back.

  This was it.

  We got out of the car and I looked around. Highway 120 was deserted, which was good, but you never could tell what might be watching you. The sooner I was into the land and Juarez was gone, the better.

  I fished my ruck out of the trunk and slid it on, tightening the straps as I did so. I shook Juarez’s hand.

  “Get out of here. I’ll send a text for an approximate exfil time. Don’t leave me hanging. Understand?”

  Juarez nodded and climbed back into the car. I turned my head as he drove off and then walked over to the base of a tree swathed in shadows and squatted down.

  And did nothing.

  One of the keys to an infiltration is immediately after you get inserted. You’ve just come into an area and made a lot of noise. The animals will be upset. There might be unseen people lurking about. You just never know. So you find a spot and you wait. Not only does this cut down on potential surprises, but it also allows you to slowly acclimate to the environment. You start to switch on and your senses tune in to the noises and ambient sounds.

  After fifteen minutes, I dropped my left gloved hand to my belt kit and found the small container of juice. I popped the lid off and drank down the warm contents, before putting the lid back on and sliding the vial back into my belt.

  Seconds later, the energy hit my system and I felt a heady rush wash over me. I calmed my breathing and let the juice hit my system full on. It had been a while since I’d had any and I welcomed it like an old friend - granted it was an old friend I hated drinking. Blood has always tasted like shit to me. Imagine that, a vampire who can’t stand drinking blood.

  But those were the breaks. If I didn’t drink the stuff, I’d be dead within a day or so.

  So that was a pretty convincing argument as to why I had to do it.

  I thought about fishing the Vintorez out of the ruck and going with that, but decided against it. I didn’t know what the ground was going to be like and I didn’t want to risk losing the gun if I happened to fall on loose gravel or something stupid.

  Besides, I was fully juiced now and my senses were even more alert than normal. If someone was going to try to get the drop on me, I was betting I’d hear them coming from a mile away and be able to take them without too much noise.

  At least, that was the hope.

  6

  From the base of the tree, I moved of the trail and bushwhacked across the land, following the mountain up at a shallow ascent. I was careful to traverse up and down, sort of in the middle of the terrain as much as possible. The last thing I wanted was to silhouette myself on a ridgeline.

  Halfway off of the trail, I took a moment to pull on my gloves and a balaclava over my head. Before I pulled it down over my face, I picked up a handful of dirt, spat into it, and rubbed the muddy mess over my eyes and bridge of my nose. Then I pulled the mask down, effectively making myself less likely to shine in the moonlight.

  I had to cover the better part of two miles in order to reach my spot. I knew from studying the satellite photos Juarez had been able to give me that the valley where La Familia supposedly held their rituals was located on the other side of the mountain, where it dipped into a shallow valley. I had to circumvent the mountain and then make my way to the overhang I’d selected. From there, it would simply be a matter of waiting.

  More waiting.

  The problem with walking along the side of a mountain is that one of your legs is higher than the other, which means one tends to do more work than the other, one ankle gets more abuse than the other, and all that jazz. The trade-off was that because it’s not necessarily easy to do, no one expects you to do it. Humans, vampires, it doesn’t matter: we’re all lazy. Hell, even animals follow the easiest paths in the bush. That’s why indigenous people do the same. It’s not a matter of being smarter, it’s just easier. And at the end of the day, i
t’s about survival and the less strenuous you can make it on yourself, the less chance of injury and the less energy you exert.

  But taking the easy path makes you predictable.

  And a savvy opponent can ambush the shit out of your day if they know how you’ll approach something. Or they’ll memorize your schedule and set the trap according to where you’ll be.

  So you do the unpredictable. You do the hard stuff. The painful. The boring.

  And your enemies don’t have a clue as to where you’ll strike.

  Which is why I was making my approach the way I was. I would have much preferred a casual hike to reach my spot. I also would have preferred not walking into a sentry or ambush.

  Talya hates it when I get shot.

  And so do I.

  It took my almost three hours to get into position. Yes, two miles in three hours. Sound like forever? It felt like it. But that’s about how slow you move when you’re in enemy territory. You take your time. You pick your steps. You try to make as little noise as possible. Anything can give you away during your approach. Hell, sometimes you can even smell danger.

  Finally, I found the spot I’d seen on the satellite photos. It was less than ideal, but I couldn’t wait much longer. According to what Juarez had told me, the ritual or whatever the hell they were going to do was due to begin within the hour. I needed to creep into my position and set up for the shot.

  I no longer walked; I got down on all fours and moved closer, and then when I judged I was too close for that, I belly-crawled into position, careful to reach behind me and try to obscure the tracks I’d made. Easier said than done when you’re trying to not give yourself away with movement, a dust cloud, or a sound.

  The area around me offered some degree of concealment, but I doubted whether it was viable cover or not. If I wasn’t careful when I took the shot, the other members of La Familia would unleash a serious barrage of gunfire at my position and probably put enough lead into the ground that I’d have to make a run for it and hope I didn’t get tagged.

  A few smaller trees grew around me and their boughs moved in the cool night air as a breeze broke over the mountain. I slid the ruck off slowly and then undid the clasps that had been coated with rubber to reduce their noise. I slid the Vintorez out and nudged the barrel toward the valley about two hundred meters below me. I couldn’t see any activity yet; there were no cars, no sign of anyone. But that didn’t mean I was out on that mountain alone. It would have been foolish to assume that.

  After the hike, I took the time to allow myself to relax a bit. I brought my breathing back under control and allowed the environment to sink in. I wished like hell I could have dragged Juarez here to watch my back. But I never would have forgiven myself if it ended up that La Familia found out about his involvement and took revenge on him and Silvia.

  My system was still primed by the hit of juice I’d had. I knew I could count on the energy from it sustaining me for as long as it took to make the successful hit, which was good. There was a strong possibility I was going to have to hightail it out of here if the shit hit the fan.

  I wondered where Talya was.

  For all I knew, she might well have been in a similar position. I smiled beneath my mask at the thought of it: both of us doing the same thing on opposite sides of the world.

  I hoped she’d be okay, but then pushed the worry out of my mind. Talya was the most accomplished operator I knew. She’d been through a ton of shit in the past and come through it okay.

  My eyes roved through the darkness and I gave thanks for the ability see in the dark better than humans. If I’d had to wear night vision goggles, I might have missed the subtle cues that told me my environment was changing.

  As it was, I only barely registered the movement down in the valley. A lone person walked in and judging by how they moved, they were very switched on. The M4 they held nosed about the darkness and they stopped here and there, scanning, checking, and rechecking before slowly moving back out of the valley.

  I frowned. It was my first glimpse of La Familia and they’d done what seasoned pros do before just walking into an area. Had someone tipped them off? I ran down the list of likely suspects and swore that it had better not be Silvia. She struck me as a potential, but if they were Loyalists then they’d been vetted by the Council.

  Then again, the Council had been known to screw up in the past and I doubted if that was the only time.

  A shaft of light tore through the darkness and it made me wince as I had to blink. I heard the engine then, too, and watched as the valley seemed to suddenly come alive with noise and activity. Six cars pulled into the valley and parked in a semi-circle with their headlights all aimed at one of the walls of the valley.

  Now I saw bits of graffiti marking the area. But it wasn’t what I thought it would be: they looked like ancient runes intertwined with strange symbols.

  At the base of the wall, three men carried in huge armfuls of wood and dropped it. Another armed cartel member doused the wood with gasoline - the scent of it wafted up to where I lay - and then tossed a match on it, causing the entire thing to burst into flame.

  The flames licked through the wood, the light of the fire making weird shadows dance across the wall. I had no idea what my position looked like from where the cartel members were, but the light was fairly intense and my apprehension increased. Any light would only aid them. Especially if the cartel members were all vampires. If they were human, then looking away from the light would have compromised their night vision and that would help conceal me. But I couldn’t bank on that. I had to assume that they were vampires who would be able to use the firelight to help them see up toward my location.

  That wasn’t good.

  More cartel members moved into the valley now. I caught bits of talking and laughing. That cheered me a little bit. If they hadn’t been laughing, I might have suspected things were going to take a more serious slant.

  I estimated there were maybe twenty cartel members in the valley, each of them armed with assault rifles and pistols. That was a shitload of firepower. If I didn’t play my cards right, I was going to have a helluva lot of fury raining down on me.

  I checked the scope on the Vintorez and let my eye range through the crowd. All of them were men. No women anywhere. I frowned. She wasn’t there yet. Maybe she was waiting for things to get going before making her appearance?

  One of the cars cranked up the music and the entire valley filled with Spanish rap. I’d heard worse, so it wasn’t that bad. The valley was starting to look like a rave, just with a whole lot of armed drug dealers. Not that different from a typical rave, minus the weaponry.

  I heard an engine gun through the night and then another pair of headlights bounced into view as they closed on the valley. The black Mercedes SUV rolled to a stop followed behind by a pickup truck. I kept the scope moving, looking for targets and keeping count of the enemy in my head.

  The men in the pickup truck hopped out first and then walked to truck bed, opening the tailgate and reaching in for something.

  My frown deepened as I realized they were pulling a person out of the back of the truck. His hands were bound behind his back and a hood was over his head. He stumbled as they dragged him along the valley floor toward the fire.

  Were they going to burn him alive?

  Instead, they moved him behind the fire and wrapped bits of rope to his hands and stretched them out to either side. The light of the fire danced over his trembling body and I knew he must have been scared shitless.

  What was it that Juarez had told me about the Lady of the Dead? That she could kill the souls of those she wanted dead? I exhaled smoothly and thought about how good it would have been to have had Jack with me. Just knowing he could conjure vampire spirits with the best of them would have gone a long way to making me feel better about my situation.

  As it was, I was out in the cold by myself. And while the argument could be made that it’s how I often do my best work, there’s n
othing like knowing you’ve got someone you can trust watching over you.

  I didn’t have that tonight.

  It was then that the music died in the valley, replaced by the howl of a stiff breeze blowing through the cracks and crevices of the mountainside. The fire still blazed and the man pinned to the wall still struggled.

  It was then that the one of the doors on the Merc opened and another armed man got out. He moved to the rear of the SUV and opened the door. I brought the scope onto the darkened interior and waited.

  A figure emerged from the SUV draped entirely in a deep purple robe complete with a hood over their face. They were followed by another robed and masked figure and then a third. They walked easily across the valley floor toward the bonfire.

  Judging by their gait, they were all women.

  Three of them.

  I frowned. Which one was the Lady of the Dead? Which one was my target?

  I didn’t want to waste time killing three targets when I only really needed to make sure one of them was dead. Shooting two more times would potentially expose me. If I only had to shoot once, I could take advantage of the immediate shock and surprise to make my escape. But shooting three times meant I had to stay in position and move from target to target in rapid succession.

  This op was looking worse all the time.

  The three women stopped before the fire and raised their arms in unison. Another stiff breeze howled through the rocks. My hair stood up and I felt goosebumps on my arms. I’d heard Taluk chanted before, a long time ago in the Himalayas. The sense of deja vu that washed over me didn’t make me feel any better.

  Their voices rose and fell in an undulating wave that I found strangely hypnotic. I had to take a deep breath in order to clear my mind. I settled my sights back on the scope and tried to determine if I could pinpoint the leader of the trio. But they all moved with such synchronization that it was nearly impossible.