* * *
THE GUARDHOUSE AT the gates of Fort Huachuca was normally manned by two soldiers, but as Bricker and Kingston watched from the parking lot of the hotel across the street, they could see four—two of them ATF agents. The main gate wasn’t an option, but Bricker hadn’t really believed it would be. He picked up the two-way radio from the console and keyed the mike.
“Alpha team, what’s your position?”
“Twenty meters from the fence line, Eagle,” came the reply. “And closing.”
“Bravo team?” Bricker asked.
“We’re in position,” his man said, “holding.”
“Now what?” asked Kingston. The nervous pitch in his voice sounded so much like a dog whining for a bone that it was all Bricker could do not to backhand him across the face. The man was a pathetic excuse for a soldier of any kind.
“Now we wait,” he finally replied. “And when the work is done, we go.”
“If we pull this off,” Kingston said.
Bricker ignored him. “Alpha team, initiate contact as soon as you reach the fence line,” he said into the radio.
“Roger that, Eagle,” the man replied.
Bricker knew that each five-man team would do its job—it’s what they’d trained for their entire lives—and Fort Huachuca was hardly a hotbed of danger. The perimeter guards were spaced out too far apart to repel a serious assault and the ATF was already guarding his warehouse. He didn’t need to check to confirm that at this very moment, a dozen or more agents were inside it, counting his inventory and discovering that he’d been selling weapons for months. The question that would be on their minds was where the weapons had gone. They wouldn’t expect an attack.
“Initiating contact,” the radio squawked. “Line open.”
Bricker listened as Alpha team began cutting through the fence, setting off alarms and drawing perimeter guards from all over the base. The sound of periodic gunfire started up as the team peeled open the fence and then fell back into the desert scrub.
“Hold position, Alpha team,” Bricker ordered. “And keep firing.”
“Acknowledged, Eagle,” said the squad leader.
“Bravo team,” he said, “move in.”
Six hundred meters away, Bravo team waited and watched as the guards covering the fence in their area ran toward the ongoing firefight with Alpha team. As soon as it was clear, they moved forward, cutting through the fence with ease. No additional alarm sounded for this secondary breach. The guards were supposed to hold their positions in circumstances like this, but Bricker knew better. No soldier, not even a part-time National Guardsman just serving his weekend, would ignore gunfire on the fence.
“Bravo team, in position and in the interior,” came the report.
Bricker nodded, pleased. The plan was working as he’d expected. “Alpha team,” he ordered, “pull back fifty meters and continue to draw fire.”
“It’s working,” Kingston said from the passenger seat.
“We haven’t done anything yet,” he replied.
Alpha team acknowledged the command, and Bricker heard the leader relay the order to his squad. The sound of running feet, interspersed with assault rifle fire, punctuated the night. The guards at the shack lowered the arm of the gate and closed the fence. The ATF agents scanned the road, waiting for any sign of a frontal assault. As far as Bricker was concerned, they could wait all night.
“Bravo team in ready position,” said the voice from the radio. “Infrared shows ten agents in the warehouse, plus two at the door. All on alert.”
Bricker considered it, then shrugged. The odds weren’t great, but his men were soldiers. “Engage,” he ordered.
“Acknowledged, Eagle,” came the whispered reply. “Stand by.”
The line went dead. All he could do now was wait and hope that his plan would work. If it did, all the losses would be recovered and he’d have his money and revenge on Cooper or Stone or whatever the hell the man’s name was. Not even he would be immune to chemical weapons.
In the far distance, he saw the sky light up with a flare. Alpha team was doing a fine job keeping the guards busy. If all went well, Bravo team would have his weapons in hand within five minutes, the ATF would be short twelve more agents and Bricker would be on his way to the border, ready to make a killing. Literally and figuratively.
“It’s working, isn’t it?” Kingston said again. “When will we know?”
Another flare lit the far side of the base. “Soon,” Bricker whispered. “So shut up.”
Chapter 17
Stepping through the doors of the Copper Queen in Bisbee was akin to walking through a door into another era. Everything from the bell desk to the striped wallpaper and whitewashed wainscoting led to the general feel and ambiance of a time long past. The hotel had existed for more than a hundred years, and the Italian decor looked a bit out of place to Bolan’s well-traveled eye. This hadn’t been built for the miners, but for rich investors looking for a comfortable place to stay while they played with their money.
Taking no chances, Merice and Bolan rented one room facing the street so they could take turns at watch. Bolan threw his bag on the bed and glanced at Merice. “I guess when we said one room, they thought that meant one bed.” He shrugged. “If you want a different arrangement that’s fine, but what I really want right now is a hot shower and some food. We can take turns sleeping and keeping watch.”
“All fine with me,” she said. “Why don’t you see if you can dig up some food for us while I hit the shower?”
“Deal,” he said.
* * *
THE ALARM ON Bolan’s watch brought Merice upright. Bolan smiled at her from his position by the window as she pulled the sheet up around her and pushed her hair back.
“Morning.”
“Is it? It still looks dark out to me. Can’t I stay in bed ten more minutes?”
“I’d like to be across the border at first light.”
“Okay.”
Rough footsteps shuffling in the hallway had them each reaching for their guns. They lowered their weapons as the feet thumped past the room, fading, and Merice turned to him with a grin.
“That will always wake me up.”
“Unknown feet outside your door? Yeah, better than any alarm clock.”
“Back to work then?” she asked.
“Back to work.”
* * *
SHOWERED AND SHAVED, Bolan slid his sunglasses on as they crossed the Mexican border on a small road that had been carved into the landscape by drug runners. Nadia punched in the coordinates that Tony sent them on the GPS and they maneuvered through the desert, keeping an extra eye open for problems.
They rolled the Conquest to a stop at the exact coordinates and jumped out of the vehicle. Tony stepped out of a crack in the cliff wall that looked like no more than a shadow. Bolan had to smile at the tracker who still knew his stuff.
“Good to see you haven’t been killed, old man,” Merice said.
“Old men are harder to kill,” he said. “We’re like leather. We may look cracked and broken, but chew on us and you’ll find a hard meal.”
“What’s been going on at the compound?” Bolan asked.
“Sureno and his guys been getting busy in there. Looks like they’re gearing up for World War III. No sign of your man, though.”
“I suspect Bricker will be along anytime,” Bolan said. “I don’t want to hit them until they’re all inside. If we strike before they get in, we’ll lose some in the scramble. There aren’t enough of us to get spread out too far.”
“I agree,” Merice said.
Bolan’s phone rang, and he picked up when he saw it was Brognola. “Yeah.”
“Striker, we’ve got a problem.”
“Hal, if I h
ad a nickel for every time you started a conversation that way, I’d be a rich man. What’s up?”
“The ATF agents who were guarding Bricker’s warehouse at Fort Huachuca last night were killed, and some weapons were taken.”
“How many dead?” Bolan asked.
“Twelve at the warehouse, plus two more on the fence line, though that appears to have been a diversion,” Brognola said.
“Damn,” Bolan muttered. “What did they get away with?”
“Chemical weapons that were slated to go to another base. Sarin gas in small delivery packages. Bricker must have them, and as you know, he’s coming your way. We’re trying to work something out with the Mexican government.”
“You know that’s a political minefield. We’ll never get the clearance in time.”
“What do you propose?” Brognola asked. “We can’t have cartels using sarin gas on anyone—especially not sarin gas that came from our Army.”
“I propose that I get the weapons back before he can use them or sell them.”
“Is there any chance of you doing this quietly?”
“Not much,” Bolan said. “But we’ll get it done.”
* * *
BOLAN WATCHED BRICKER through the scope of the Tango 51 as the three-truck convoy approached the compound. The driving force behind this entire mess was in his crosshairs, and Bolan itched to pull the trigger but held himself back. The plan was a good one, and an early shot, however opportune, would ruin it. The caravan pulled into the hacienda and disappeared from sight behind the heavy front gates. Bolan signaled for Tony and Merice to shift to their positions. Until they moved in after dark, they needed to watch as much of the compound as the three of them could manage.
“Cooper, you there?” Merice’s voice came through the small communications unit in his ear.
“Go ahead,” he said, still peering through the scope. At the moment, there were few men and little action on the walls.
“Did you get eyes on Bricker?” she asked.
“I saw him,” he said. “He was driving the second truck.”
“Why didn’t you take the shot? You could have ended a lot of this right there.”
“Because taking out Bricker isn’t the mission. He’s just the point man. The mission is getting the weapons back.”
There was a long silence. “You weren’t a little tempted?”
“I play for the long game, Agent Merice, and if you happen to get a shot before we go in, you don’t take it unless I give the word. Clear?”
Another long pause, then a soft chuckle. “I agree you play for the long game,” she said. “But as far as the mission goes, it’s your call.”
Tony’s gruff voice broke in. “Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”
“Roger, Tony. Merice, get to your position and tell me what you see when you get there. Tony, you all set?”
“Have been for two minutes now,” he said. “Three guys just moved onto the eastern entrance, loaded for bear, and two more just joined the main-gate guard. Over the past couple of days, it’s been one or two at the most, with a single rifle between them. These guys have assault rifles, sidearms and blades. It looks like everyone is preparing for a little action.”
“Merice,” Bolan said, “what do you have in the west?”
“Same scenario as Tony,” she said. “These guys don’t look like they want to welcome visitors anytime soon. I see some heavy artillery in two vehicles inside the yard and a couple missile launchers mounted on the back wall. Sort of makes me wonder who they’re expecting at this party.”
“I imagine a great deal of what we’re seeing is for Bricker’s benefit, as much as any external threat they might think is headed their way,” Bolan said. “Chances are, the infighting between Sureno and Bricker is going to get ugly. In the meantime, we wait.”
* * *
BRICKER STEPPED OUT of the truck and stretched his legs. The rough ride through the desert in the large trucks had been tiresome but necessary. Two of Sureno’s thugs escorted him through the yard. Bricker noticed the increased presence of sentries and the disdainful expressions he was getting as they approached the main house. He could tell as well as anyone when a situation was ugly, and this felt like a five-day-old corpse in a swamp. He’d have to be very careful now.
They moved to the inner office, where Sureno was pouring tequila into shot glasses. Bricker couldn’t help but notice that the armed guards remained by the door. Sureno set the bottle down, then slid one of the glasses across the desk as Bricker pulled out a chair and settled into the leather. He casually unclipped the snap on his shoulder holster while Sureno sipped thoughtfully.
“You’ve come at an interesting time, my friend,” Sureno said. “Maybe a bad time.”
Bricker shrugged and knocked back the shot. The burn was soft, almost delicate, the way a fine tequila should taste. “I wouldn’t be here at all if you hadn’t lost Stone and your men hadn’t gotten so gung ho and brought the entire U.S. intelligence community down on us.”
“Blame is a waste of time,” Sureno said. “I don’t think we should talk about blame because then I would have to bring up how sloppy you’ve become on your side of the border. I hear you’ve lost everything.”
Bricker grinned. “Not quite everything,” he said.
“No? So what is it you want from me then?”
“You want to be the big dog down here, and I want to help you be the big dog,” he replied. “I didn’t lose everything. You saw me come in with three trucks, and beyond the usual, I’ve got a special delivery that I think will interest you. It will make your bite a lot bigger than your bark.”
“And in return for whatever this ‘special’ thing is?”
“In return, you keep me and my men off the radar for awhile. We’ll hole up here and help fight off our mutual enemies, and when I get reestablished, you’ll keep receiving your weapons. It’s a win-win situation for us both.”
Sureno swirled the last of the clear liquid around in his glass, then tossed the contents back. He stood and paced slowly around the desk.
Bricker began to sweat in spite of the air conditioning. If his plan didn’t work out here, he’d have to go out into the Mexican desert. Things could get very ugly very fast in Mexico. “Maybe you don’t grasp our situation here, amigo,” he finally managed to snarl. “That Stone guy, or whatever the hell his name is, won’t be waiting around. He’ll come here, looking for us both, and he’ll have plenty of backup.”
“He’s already here,” Jesus chimed in as he stepped into the room. “He arrived before you did.”
“What are you talking about?” Bricker asked, getting to his feet.
“I mean this compound is being watched. They’ve been staking us out for several days. We’ve seen their movements, but we do not fear what we know is already there.”
“Then what the hell are you waiting for?” Bricker asked, exasperated. “Why not just take them out?”
“That’s your problem,” Sureno said. “You have no patience. The spider does not rush the flies into his web. He waits, and they come. Only then does he strike.”
“So the flies are all here.” Bricker gestured at Jesus. “You’re the spider. Go eat them.”
Jesus met his boss’s gaze and raised an eyebrow.
“Bring them in,” Sureno said. “Alive, if possible. Let’s find out if it ends with Stone and his people, or if we have more of this mess to clean up.”
They watched Jesus leave, and Bricker turned to Sureno.
“So you’re in? We’ll make a deal?”
“Let us see what the day brings, my friend,” he said. “The spider is patient.”
* * *
THE DAY WAS WEARING thin, and Bolan knew there wasn’t much time before they had to make a move on Sureno’s stronghold.
He climbed into the truck and nodded to Merice as she and Tony joined him. They’d placed surveillance cameras around the compound for updates, but Bolan felt that they needed to change positions again. It was unlikely that Sureno was leaving the area unwatched.
“Anything else on satellite?” he asked Merice.
She turned the laptop monitor in his direction. “The new images are coming in now.”
They watched as the resolution of the pictures slowly cleared. The trucks were spread throughout the hacienda and Bolan tried to reorient himself to the compound’s layout. When he’d escaped, he’d been more concerned with speed than intelligence. Now, he could put the information from the satellite together with his own memories, which would give them an advantage, despite Sureno’s extra firepower.
“What’s that?” Merice asked, pointing to the edge of the screen.
Bolan studied the smudge carefully, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Zoom back out and see if we can recapture it.”
Nadia typed the commands into the keyboard and they watched as the main focus of the images moved from the inner sanctum of Sureno’s compound to the base of the small mountain range to the south. As the image clarified, Bolan realized that it was another convoy of vehicles.
“Those can’t be Bricker’s,” he said. “They’d be coming from the north. Tony?”
The camera tightened in as Tony peered over the console from the backseat to take a look. The old man made a tsk sound. “Not Bricker,” he said. “And not Sureno. That’s a new problem. Those trucks are coming from the southwest, and that whole valley belongs to the Cardenas Cartel. They must have decided that Sureno’s good fortune in weapons needed to be shared. They’re coming to level the place. Even with Sureno ramping up, Cardenas has twice the men that he does.”
“So we’ll sit tight while Cardenas takes out Sureno, then in the confusion we can sweep in and get the weapons,” Merice said. “Simple.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Tony replied. “Look closer. He’s bringing in a lot of firepower, but that’s only the beginning. If Cardenas gets in and seizes the weapons, there really will be no retrieving them. I guarantee he’ll have more forces heading this way already.”
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