Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books)

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Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 37

by Bernard Lee DeLeo


  Lynn wrapped her arms around Clint, hugging him tightly. “I’m on borrowed time thanks to you. I don’t give a shit what you do to me from now to forever. You’re golden with me, big boy. I like the way you roll. What, you don’t think I could be a sweet thing for you?”

  Clint put a rough hand along Lynn’s jaw line, while bending down to kiss her forehead. “I think you could be anything you want, baby… until you’re not.”

  Lynn giggled. “We are a pair of eight balls, ain’t we? You know me too damn well, or maybe you just think you do. How about I promise you’ll never have to sleep with one eye open when you’re around me?”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here. We can kick around sleeping arrangements down the road. Maybe we can get a house with a picket fence, have a couple kids, and join the PTA. We’ll even make cupcakes together.”

  Lynn shoved Dostiene toward the path. “Get moving before you say something that’ll warrant me making an adjustment smartass.”

  Clint and Tonto struck out down the path together, the dog glancing back at Dostiene every few seconds. Montoya watched them for a moment, a tear forming and cutting the dust down her right cheek. She absently batted at it, picturing exactly what Clint had described jokingly. Lynn gritted her teeth, jogging at a faster pace to keep up. Like it or not, Clint baby… I’m going to get me a taste of that if I’m still alive after this gig. Montoya giggled. You little tool.

  They reached the landing zone Dostiene had picked out. Five minutes after they arrived with Clint covering their back trail with the M107 and Lynn spotting, a beat up, Vietnam era Huey helicopter dipped in over the horizon from the opposite direction. It settled in smoothly next to the little group. A gray bearded pilot with a Giants baseball cap and aviator sun glasses waved with a big smile as Tonto bounded aboard to lick his face. Clint helped Lynn up into the helicopter’s cargo bay past the fifty caliber machine gun set up in the opening. After he threw their packs on board, Dostiene slid into place behind the fifty, putting on the headset propped on the gun’s handle. The Huey began lifting off the moment Clint barked out a hello into the headset’s microphone.

  “We got company coming, partner. They’re faster than me. I hope you still have the magic hand with the fifty.”

  Clint chuckled, seeing two helicopters dotting the horizon approaching on their back trail. The Huey turned North at full speed. “I’ll let you know when to bank, Laredo.”

  Lynn, who had been scooting into a position near Dostiene with her spotting scope, put a hand on Clint’s back. “We doing aerial combat, cowboy?”

  “I’m afraid so, baby. What’s the ETA, Laredo?”

  “Ten minutes, give or take a couple. I bet you can’t get them both with one burst, Clint.”

  Dostiene smiled as he leaned around to check out their fast approaching pursuit. “That’s a sucker bet, brother. They’re boot camps without more than twenty yards between them, and no elevation difference.”

  Montoya had been listening intently, leaning out to check on distance. “You two have done this before I take it?”

  “In better circumstances,” Clint replied. “We’re going old school this trip, right brother?”

  “Concentrate on not acquiring any new holes in my ride, deadeye. Coming up to pursuit level, Clint – in range two minutes.”

  Clint glanced down at his watch as the Huey elevated slightly. “Two minutes.”

  Lynn glanced back at Clint from her sighting position where she could see the two pursuing helicopters growing larger in her scope by the second. She stuck her butt near Dostiene’s position, wiggling it. “I’m getting wet, Clint. Want to check?”

  Dostiene stifled laughter while gripping the handles on the fifty tightly, resisting the urge to check with all his might. “Damn, baby, this could end up with us tail-spinning in a death arc downwards you know?”

  Montoya turned her attention back to the pursuing helicopters. “I ain’t riding that horse, cowboy. I see a bad day in the future for those poor playboys in the distance.”

  Clint took a deep breath after a quick check of his watch, zoning in on what he had to do with practiced concentration. “Ten seconds, brother, from… now!”

  The Huey banked perpendicular with the pursuers in exactly ten seconds. The fifty rattled loudly over the wind noise. Lynn sucked air as the cockpits of both helicopters in the distance disintegrated. The pilotless hulks spun downwards to a fiery conflagration below. Montoya turned open mouthed toward where Dostiene worked the fifty into a static flying position, clamping it into place as the Huey resumed course. Montoya began stripping in a no nonsense, hurried rush. She was on him before he could even move clear of the fifty with a moaning, all out, grasping struggle.

  “Jesus…” Clint managed to blurt out before chucking the headset.

  * * *

  Laredo cleared his throat as they approached their destination. He stroked Tonto’s head next to him. “We have touchdown in ten, kids. Flip ‘em, and zip ‘em.”

  Montoya stroked Clint’s face with a trembling hand. She leaned in close to him from where he held her over his lap. “Damn… that was intense, cowboy.”

  Dostiene gripped Lynn’s face. His answering kiss catapulted them into another writhing climax with only a minute to spare as the Huey spiraled gently down to a perfect landing. Laredo looked down at Tonto with a chuckle.

  “You are without doubt the flyingest dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, T. I hope the flight was to your liking.”

  “Arf!” Tonto jumped up with his front paws across Laredo’s lap.

  Laredo hugged the dog before getting out of his seat. “You’re the best, T. You’re welcome anytime. Your master is negotiable.”

  “I heard that,” Clint called out as he and Lynn tugged clothes into place. “Don’t think I forgot you made me pay in advance, you untrusting prick.”

  Laredo lumbered into the back, his five foot ten inch frame carrying nearly thirty pounds too much weight. He moved around the helicopter with practiced ease. He gripped Dostiene’s shoulder with a brief friendly clasp. “Sorry, partner. I didn’t think you were coming back. With gas prices like they are I had to keep my bottom line in mind.”

  Clint laughed appreciatively, nodding his head at Lynn. “This is Lynn Montoya. The things she can do with a knife would make you wet your pants. Lynn, this aviator is my old buddy, Laredo.”

  Laredo shook hands with Lynn. “Glad to meet you. It’s nice to see Clint with a special lady. I thought he was gay.”

  They shared a laugh at Laredo’s remark. Lynn dug around in her pack, producing a wrapped bundle of cash. She handed it to Laredo.

  Laredo smiled down at what looked to him to be a twenty-five thousand dollar wad. “I’ve been paid, Ms. Montoya.”

  “Consider it a tip. It’s found money anyhow. Will there be any problem for us to get back over the border?”

  Laredo jumped down after tucking away his tip. He helped Lynn down with her pack while Clint descended with Tonto and the rest of his gear. “Very generous of you Ma’am. I run this Company safe house and landing field. We’re about twenty minutes from the Antelope Wells, New Mexico crossing from here. Clint has a friend that’ll pass you through at noon tomorrow. I imagine he collected enough Cartel intel, they’ll probably throw him a parade on the other side, so I doubt you’ll have any trouble. Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

  Lynn glanced back at Clint, who waved to her as he shouldered his gear. She followed Laredo from the small landing zone to a ramshackle farmhouse with a huge beat-up old barn across from it. Laredo walked by the house, hiking nearly a hundred yards out into the desert. In the midst of some rocks and sage, he brushed away sand with his foot, bent down, and pulled up on a handle. A well oiled, spring assisted trapdoor opened into a gaping portal. Laredo led the way down the stone and steel stairwell, descending to a long open tunnel. Embedded in the walls of the tunnel were spaced alternating, yellow glowing lights on each side.

 
The tunnel opened into a widening metal encased structure, with a reinforced door, opened by voice and iris recognition. Laredo opened it up. On the other side was an electronics station with banks of video screens, communications equipment, and a computer station only dreamed of by IT specialists. Their next destination was a fully furnished room a few doors down from the entry station. It was designed like a high end hotel room, complete with kitchen, entertainment center, and berthing area.

  “Make yourself at home, Ms. Montoya,” Laredo told her, gesturing at the inside of the room. “The refrigerator’s stocked. The bathroom’s across the hall. If you need anything, I’ll be out at my desk, getting Clint a secure line to upload his plunder.”

  “So this is where our tax dollars go,” Lynn replied, smiling at Laredo. “Nice. Thank you. This is wonderful.”

  “You’re very welcome. I’ll be ready for you in about five minutes, Clint.”

  “Thanks, brother.” Clint waved a hand at the room. “Not bad, huh?”

  Lynn clasped him around the waist. “It looks like the bed’s big enough for two, cowboy. Maybe you can show me a few more of your moves later.”

  “I’d love to, baby. That was the greatest helicopter ride I’ve ever taken. Tonto and I have to stay out on the perimeter. After Laredo and I get my stuff uploaded and the Huey out of sight, I have to make sure we don’t get any unexpected visitors. We can’t take chances that they didn’t follow us on radar. The Cartel could send an army down here. They own some of the Federales stations so we can’t get complacent.”

  “Well damn! I was hopin’ you could tuck me in tonight. What the hell do you and Tonto do if an army is moving on us?”

  “I light ‘em up and they send a Reaper drone across from Holloman Air Force Base for a little surprise party,” Clint explained. “It’s an act of war, but so is their Federales covering the Cartel drug runs with armored vehicles. They can’t track a Reaper, and they can’t ID any of its payload. It’s just a precaution, baby. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe when we’re safe across the border, we’ll play house while we hunt for the killers.”

  Lynn gripped Dostiene’s chin, shaking it slightly. “Count on it, big boy. Don’t get killed out there.”

  “Jinx!”

  * * *

  Lynn went to sleep for a few hours after Dostiene left. When she woke up, a shower, and a fresh change of clothes helped her demeanor considerably. For the first time since her capture by the Cartel, Montoya began thinking about something besides escape. Wandering away from her room toward Laredo’s command center, Lynn was surprised to see Tonto bounding toward her. She bent to hug the dog, a sharp shot of desire shooting through her, figuring Clint had already returned.

  “I’m happy to see you too, Tonto. Now, lead me to where your master is and you can be my hero of the hour.”

  Tonto licked her face before spinning around to lope in the same direction Lynn had been going. At the electronics display, Laredo had dimmed the surrounding lights as he concentrated on the larger monitors in the center with his headset on. Montoya made no sound to distract him from his work, kneeling next to Tonto and stroking his head, while trying to decipher what was happening on the monitors. Laredo noticed her presence after a few moments.

  “Welcome, Ms. Montoya. I have a minute. Is everything to your liking?”

  “It’s wonderful. Tonto found me, so I figured Clint couldn’t be far away. Where’s he hangin’? CD told me he and Tonto would be patrolling the perimeter, watching for interested Federales.”

  “Oh… yeah…” Laredo turned back to the monitors. “He’ll explain when he gets back, Ma’am.”

  Lynn stood up, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of the lights and blips on the screens. “Spit it out, Laredo. I didn’t just drop in from a girl scout conference.”

  Laredo glanced back at her. The look she was gracing him with made the grizzled agent straighten in his seat. Montoya grinned, realizing Laredo knew her past history.

  “Clint pays me well for our get-togethers, Lynn. Sometimes when he goes off book, he has to pay the piper to make it happen as smoothly as he wants. DEA had a date when a drug shipment was due to pass by the Antelope Wells crossing. Word was it would have a Federales escort if the border patrol intercepted, meaning overwhelming force against a couple teams of outnumbered and outgunned kids on the border. As payment for you two crossing unmolested at Antelope, Clint agreed to even up the odds.”

  When Laredo didn’t expand on his statement, Lynn did it for him in a questioning manner. “You mean he went somewhere to light up the drug ring for a Reaper strike?”

  Laredo chuckled, and then caught himself as he met Lynn’s narrowed gaze. “Ah… we don’t do Reaper hits inside Mexico, Lynn. The pussies in Washington would shit their pants if they even knew we tracked them on this side of the border. Clint may have been embellishing a bit so as not to worry you.”

  Montoya spotted a rolling chair she liked on the other side of the room. She retrieved it, and slid in right next to Laredo. “I get the picture. He didn’t want to risk Tonto on this one. So… Clint’s the ‘one riot, one Ranger’ on this op?”

  Laredo laughed. “Yep. He needed to make it about fifteen miles west of here without a trace and get set up for an ambush. We already have heat signatures confirming a convoy on the way. Clint made it into position after getting the props in place for the surprise party about twenty minutes ago.”

  “Let me talk to him.”

  Laredo shook his head. “No can do. We have silence until target is in sight, and only on an emergency basis after that. The Cartels aren’t stupid down here. They have some sophisticated gear. It’s just not as sophisticated as ours. I’m networked with a new genius near Antelope Wells. He and I are monitoring all communications, so I know where they are, and so does Clint. I beam their signal around and right down to him. He has range, and all logistics.”

  Adrenaline began pumping through Montoya’s frame. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she focused on the screens, distinguishing the satellite display of oncoming vehicles from the single blip still a distance away. “Is this some kind of message to the Cartel wankers?”

  “Yep. They kill one of our border patrol, we kill a whole herd of them, and destroy their drug shipment. If we did this all along the border, we’d fix the drug problem as well as illegal immigration and the slave trade they have going. Not to mention we’d catch some of the OTM’s coming out of the sandpit overseas.”

  “OTM’s?”

  “Other than Mexican.”

  “So… if things go haywire, then Clint’s the goofy lone gunman?”

  “Yep.”

  Lynn chuckled. “And here I thought Clint was just a whacko killer with a neat dog, and a thing for female psychopath serial killers. Now I find out he thinks he’s Lone Wolf McQuade.”

  “Nope. Clint’s more dangerous. He’s a believer. When Clint reads about some poor schmuck border guard getting executed by banditos running drugs and work slaves, his first reaction is pack his bag and go down to set things right. That’s why he didn’t know anything about you getting caught down Mexico way. He hides out with Tonto in some place in the middle of nowhere, turns off his phone and laptop, and goes native. The feds sent two agents up to get him instead of using the e-mail drop he checks on for jobs. That was only a couple weeks ago. He put your gig together in days and just like that I was flying him in.”

  “Damn. I thought maybe he was sweet on me.” Montoya sighed, sitting back in the chair to stroke the attentive Tonto. “Dostiene’s a world saver.”

  Laredo grinned over at her. “He likes you. I didn’t say he was suicidal. He wouldn’t have done all this for just anybody. Clint mentioned you a couple times after he got you locked up. He lost that sweet gig with those naïve chumps with their profile sheets and behavior analysis books because he let you work that last one over with your knife. They put us back together a couple times in our old Afghanistan hunting grounds last year. Clint told me a little ab
out you. He’d never mentioned anyone ever before, and I’ve been flying him back and forth since our first excursions in the ‘Stans.”

  Montoya’s face darkened. “That cocksucker gutted a twelve year old girl he raped. He got off on some technicality. I was almost done changing his spark plugs when I heard him. Dostiene just stood off to the side with a smile and a Mac-10 aimed at my head. He waves, and says ‘finish up, baby, I have to take you in’. He laughed when I thanked him for letting me finish and told him they’d never hold me.”

  “So you two ain’t as different as you let on.”

  “Maybe… maybe not. Some stuff pisses me off at an elemental level. It haunts me until I do something about it. If you’re thinking me and ‘Joan of Arc’ would be BFF’s, forget it.”

  “He let you do Gradowsky and the one before him. Clint wanted to do some recon, so he pretended to be hot on the trail for a while to study your patterns. Those idiots he was leading around by the hand didn’t even know it was a woman they were after.”

  “Why that no good, rotten…” Montoya laughed. “The prick could have taken me months before. Hell, I did Taylor nearly two months before Gradowsky. He watched me do Taylor, huh? I never felt him at all. Where the hell did he get his training?”

  Laredo shrugged. “He was Company when I first flew with him. The killers don’t tell you where they come from. I… uh oh… here we go.”

  “How will he do it?”

  “Clint sets up a killing field when he knows where the target will be for certain. You’ll see the front target get lit up by Clint’s M136. Once the lead vehicle blows, he’ll blow the IED’s he has planted. There it goes!”

  Lynn watched a momentary huge flash with secondary flashes, her hands clenched into fists. A moment later it was as if the column was engulfed in light. Smaller light flashes went off all around the column perimeter.

  “That’s Clint doing close order combat. He’ll use phosphorous grenades on the column until there’s no way anyone will know what the hell happened. Then it’s a matter of patrolling the perimeter outwards about a hundred yards to make sure there are no survivors. There… see him moving away from the column?”

 

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