An hour later, he called Stony Man and spoke to Hal Brognola.
“I’m roughly an hour from the border. Hal, I need to be met by a medical team. Escobedo has a bullet wound in his shoulder. He’s lost blood and right now he’s unconscious.”
“Okay, Striker. Barb will have a fix on your position. We’ll have a team waiting. I need to ask this. Is there a trail of bodies littering the Mexican landscape?”
“Only bad guys, Hal. Members of the A La Muerte cartel. Including, apparently, the head honcho. Ramon Mariposa has been permanently retired.”
Brognola sighed. “Sounds like I have a few phone calls to make.”
“Mexicans are not going to miss Mariposa and his crew. Except maybe a few who were on his payroll.”
“That is a sad indictment of our society, Striker.”
“You think.”
“But true.”
Bolan failed to hold back a smile. He could understand the Big Fed’s view, but as far as he was concerned, having Escobedo in the rear of the SUV made up for what had gone down. Hal Brognola was prone to seeing things from the dark side. Part of his job was handling the flak when matters got out of hand. Brognola managed it with consummate ease. He had become adept at defusing political gray areas.
Bolan, for one, would always be grateful for the Big Fed’s skill at smoothing over troubled waters; often waters Bolan had stirred up. The Executioner had no time for niceties or appeasement. The people he faced on mission after mission were long past words. They let their weapons speak for them. Bolan was pushed into the position of dealing with the fallout of violent actions.
Brognola said, “Still, this is going to take some sorting out. Okay, let me make those calls. We’ll send someone to meet you at the border.”
“Hal, things didn’t go too well last time. Escobedo has to be placed in secure hands. Nobody local. Bring in people from a distance.”
“You think Jessup might have paid help?”
“Somebody picked me up when I crossed the checkpoint. They must have. That was the only way Jessup could have known I was on my way into Mexico. They had my vehicle details. Mariposa had a crew on my tail almost from the start. You guys have to bring in people with no connection to Seb Jessup.”
“Can you stay out of sight for a while? Give us the time to pull in some help.”
“Not too long, Hal. Hermano needs medical aid as soon as we get to the border.”
“If I have anything to do with it he’ll have the best. Call you back.”
24
“So where are you talking from now?” Price asked.
“Hotel in Texas,” Bolan said.
“All over then?”
“You could say that.”
“Why are you being so mysterious? This a national security issue?”
Bolan chuckled softly. “Miss Price, your suspicious side is showing.”
“Striker, what’s going on? I understand things were hectic down there.”
“Still are,” Bolan said. “It got a little hot when we hit the border. Only just managed to stay ahead of the Mexican police. That’s being worked out even as we speak.”
“Seriously?”
“The Mexican authorities are calming down now that they see the damage done to the cartel. Especially the removal of one Ramon Mariposa. After Brognola contacted the Texas Rangers and explained the situation, they agreed to act as intermediaries in getting me and Escobedo out. They sent a unit down to the border in a Texas Department of Public Safety helicopter. Had a Ranger squad on board, plus a couple of medics. They crossed the line and took us up just before the local Mexican cops arrived.”
“How did the police know where to find you?”
“From what we worked out, the Mexicans received an anonymous tip about us. It came from either the cartel or Jessup’s organization. Making a last attempt to silence Escobedo.”
“Sounds close.”
“That kind of close I can do without,” Bolan said. “In any case, the Rangers took us to Austin. Way out of Jessup’s bailiwick. He might have influence, but not with them.”
“Men in Western boots and big Stetsons,” Price said. “Now, how is Escobedo?”
“In hospital under Texas Ranger protection. He’s recovering. Despite what he went through, he’s coming through okay. He swears he’ll attend the trial even if he has to crawl on hands and knees to be there. I believe him.”
“And Jessup?”
“The main attraction? In a cell,” Bolan said. “With his legal team screaming blue murder.”
“Will he get away with what he did?”
“The video Escobedo took identifies him without argument. It’s not pleasant viewing, but Jessup can’t wriggle his way out.”
“People have got away with worse,” Price noted.
“The evidence is pretty damning. Hal told me that after the Feds saw Escobedo’s video, they had their people go over the barn. And guess what? They found blood traces. Human blood. That gave them grounds to search the whole property. Turned up the baseball bat. Blood on it matched the traces found on the barn floor. Along with Jessup, there were at least three of his men on the video.”
“No trace of the bodies?” Price asked.
“Not yet.”
She was quiet for a moment. “Has this happened before?”
“FBI labs found other blood traces on the baseball bat. Apparently, they’re processing them as we speak. And other teams have descended on Jessup’s property, going through everything they can lay their hands on. Since Escobedo’s story came out, a couple other workers at the estate have come forward. They’ve given statements about suspicious things that went on around the place. Looks like our friend Escobedo has started the beginning of the end for Jessup and his business.”
“If Jessup walks after all this I’ll shoot him myself,” Price said.
“No,” Bolan said quietly, “that will be my job.”
He knew Price would understand he was not making light of the threat.
He was, after all, Mack Bolan.
The Executioner.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460381243
Special thanks and acknowledgment to Mike Linaker for his contribution to this work.
The Cartel Hit
Copyright © 2015 by Worldwide Library
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First edition May 2015
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The Cartel Hit Page 14