“Is that what the two of you watch when I’m not home?” said Keira, who pulled the MP-20’s sling over her shoulder like David had shown her.
“The Military Channel is the least of your problems when the guys are hanging out,” Nathan said, then turned back to Owen. “It needs to lie mostly flat to function properly. Something about dispersing energy over a wider area. You’ll be fine, buddy. We won’t need any of this.” He grabbed both of Owen’s shoulders. “You ready?”
His son nodded, a nervous look passing over his face.
“You, Keira?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“All right. Let’s do it.”
The guard outside their door stood from his chair as they approached and was leading them up the cramped hallway when the door at the end burst inward. The young man dropped to one knee and raised his rifle as David rushed into the corridor, stopping at the sight of the rifle barrel.
“Jesus,” said the guard, lowering his weapon and rising to his feet. “You trying to get killed?”
“Didn’t they call you?” said David.
“No. Nobody called to say you’d be kicking the door in.”
“That’s not my problem,” David said, gesturing for Nathan to step forward. “We’re going right now. Quick briefing with Jose, then we’re out the door.”
“Is something wrong?” said Nathan.
“Jose didn’t say, but considering the fact that they’ve moved up the timeline by thirty minutes, I’d say something wasn’t right.”
“Great.”
David led them through the tunnels to the operations center, where they gathered with Jose and two serious-looking men in front of a city map. Jose handed Nathan a tattered, compactly folded AAA map.
“I highlighted the route you need to take to reach Nogales. Do not alter the route under any circumstances. Route 2 is generally safe, but the side roads can be a different story.”
“What if Route 2 is blocked?”
“Then you’ll have to take one of the side roads. Not a lot of choices. Do you want to rethink my offer to escort you north?”
“We’re good,” David interjected. “What’s up with the fire drill?”
“A jet just landed at one of the private strips to the south. The same guys that have been spreading money around the city all afternoon picked up the passengers.”
“Passengers?” said Nathan.
“Eight men,” said Jose, handing Nathan a digital tablet. “Professional soldiers, by the look of them.”
The screen showed a group of deeply tanned, unshaven, dark-haired men carrying overstuffed duffel bags. They wore an uncoordinated array of street clothes, with a few hip holsters visible under loose-fitting, button-down shirts. Their attention was focused on two sharply dressed men standing in front of a three-vehicle convoy.
David pulled his arm to get a better view of the tablet screen. “They’re pros, all right. What do you know about the two suits?”
“We’ve identified the paler gentleman as Nick Leeds. Sources indicate he’s former CIA. Special Operations Group. Based on what little we know about the Cerberus operational structure, my guess is he’s the operational area’s second in command.”
“And the other guy’s number one?” said Nathan.
“Doubt it,” said Jose. “This is just an errand run. An important one, maybe, but not important enough to drag an operational head to this shithole.”
“This is a Cerberus team?” David asked. “Kind of rough looking compared to what we’ve seen so far.”
“Not sure. Logic says they’re Cerberus, but something is off,” said Jose, checking his watch. “We need to get you out of here. This picture is forty minutes old.”
“Forty minutes!” hissed Keira. “How far away is the airport?”
“I’m confident this location hasn’t been compromised yet. They drove to a location even farther away, so we’ve got a buffer.”
“Still,” David said. “Can your team brief us on the way out? I’d like to get moving.”
“Give me thirty seconds of your undivided attention, and I’ll turn you loose.” Jose pressed his finger against a street-level map tacked to the wall next to him. “This is your starting point. You’ll—”
“Jesus, I didn’t realize we were this close to the border,” said David. “What is that, two hundred feet?”
“More or less,” answered Jose. “Foot and vehicle traffic are light on Francisco Madero at night, so it’s our best option. You’ll be in a tunnel for about a hundred feet to get there, and it’ll put you out at the back of a vacant lot facing the road. Do exactly as your escorts say. Getting out of that exit might be a little tricky.”
“I presume this is our escort?” said David, nodding at the silent duo standing behind Jose.
“Meet Alpha and Bravo. We kept it simple for you. You can tell them apart by the A and B duct-taped to the front and back of their ball caps. No names, just Alpha and Bravo.”
David nodded.
Nathan looked them over. Fit, no-nonsense types wearing local clothing over concealed tactical vests. Compact night-vision headsets fitted under their hats. Each carried a short-barreled version of Nathan’s rifle, fitted with a hefty suppressor and magnified optical sight. An imposing pair, for sure, but he’d expected a slightly larger group—like an infantry squad.
“Only two of them?” he said.
“We’re moving an armed group on foot through a dense urban area. The six of you will attract enough attention. Can we get back to the map?”
Nathan nodded, following Jose’s hand.
“Your escorts will determine the best route, so follow them closely. If you get separated from them, head east until you reach Calle H, then turn south. Your destination is located between Calle H and Calle I on Avenida Marmoleros Sur. Just get yourself to that block and we’ll take care of the rest. Two point one miles total.”
“Why can’t we drive there?” Nathan asked. “It would take us three minutes.”
“Noncartel vehicle traffic is rare in Mexicali, especially at night.”
“And six people dressed in tactical gear carrying weapons is common?”
Jose smirked.
“Can we get going?” David asked.
“We’re going to knock out the power grid for about twenty minutes to cover your movement,” Jose said. “You’ll be deep into the neighborhoods when the lights return. Power outages are pretty standard in Mexicali. Any questions?”
Nathan turned to his wife and son, who shook their heads. He turned back to Jose. “We’re ready.”
“All right. Good luck to you and your family, Nathan. I hope our paths cross again. We could use your help,” said Jose, extending a hand.
He accepted the gesture, then watched as the man shook Owen’s hand and patted him on the shoulder, then grasped Keira’s hand firmly. “Keep him out of trouble,” he said.
“We wouldn’t be here if I had any say in that,” she said.
Jose smiled. “It’s not too late to reconsider my offer. We can protect your family.”
“Man, you’re relentless,” said David, breaking in. “We’re be fine. Thank you for saving the rest of my Marines last night. Good luck with your mission. God knows California could use a break.”
Jose raised a handheld radio. “Cut power in nine-zero seconds.”
A digital voice responded. “Copy that. Cut power in one and a half minutes.”
“Let’s go,” said Alpha, hustling to a closed door set in the far right corner of the wall holding up the maps. He reached for the door handle, pausing to address the group. “We move single file, in the following order, until we reach our destination or you’re given different instructions. This is our default formation: Alpha and Bravo first, followed by Nathan, Owen, and Keira, in that order. David brings up the rear. The three Fishers keep their safeties engaged. Everyone else exits the tunnel cleared hot.”
“My son isn’t packing,” said Nathan, immediately regretting his joke.
&n
bsp; “He should. Especially out here,” said Alpha, cracking a short-lived smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Mr. Owen. Just stay close at all times, and stay down if the shit hits the fan. Clear?”
“Clear,” said Keira.
“Clear,” he added.
“The missus beat you to it,” said Alpha. “Time to boogie.”
He yanked the door open, exposing a mostly dark void, lit sporadically by light green chem lights. The lights barely illuminated the tunnel, serving little purpose beyond proving that the murky abyss indeed continued forward.
“Night vision on,” said Alpha, pushing his goggles in front of his face. “Hands grab the person in front of you. Short, quick steps until we get to the exit.”
Nathan pressed a hand against the front of his helmet and slid the integrated visor down, suddenly able to see all the way to the end of the shoulder-width tunnel. He turned to his son, who had already lowered his visor.
“Good to go, buddy?”
His son nodded, apparently too excited to use words.
Keira pulled the night-vision goggles mounted to her helmet down in front of her eyes. A faint green glow illuminated her face.
“I’m good,” she said, giving him a thumbs-up.
By the time Nathan faced forward again, Alpha and then Bravo had entered the tunnel. He shuffled into place behind the second escort, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He felt a slight tug on his own backpack. With the chain complete, he moved deeper into the tunnel, keeping pace with the two men assigned to protect them.
Less than a minute later, they reached the end, where two armed sentries hid next to a short stairwell leading upward through the tunnel’s ceiling. Alpha continued up the wooden stairs as the rest of the group huddled underneath him.
“Five seconds,” said one of the sentries. “Four. Three. Two. One. Lights out.”
Nathan watched Alpha put a shoulder into the rectangular metal door at the top of the stairs, swinging it out of the way on silent hinges and instantly aiming his rifle toward a figure on the roof of an adjacent low-rise building. The figure moved frantically, both hands raised to his head as he fumbled with the head strap of his night-vision goggles. A green laser from Alpha’s rifle connected with the man’s head, immediately followed by two suppressed cracks. The man dropped out of sight.
“Primary overwatch target down. Looking for secondaries,” said Alpha, exiting the tunnel with Bravo close behind, the two of them leaving Nathan and his family hunched in place.
A few seconds later, they heard several snaps outside the tunnel entrance, each sounding no louder than a prematurely triggered, empty mousetrap.
“All clear,” whispered a voice from above. “Let’s go.”
Nathan climbed the short, makeshift staircase with Owen and Keira close behind, climbing out of the cool tunnel into a blast furnace of desert air and a patch of dried-out scrub at the back of a rectangular lot. A shoulder-height, chipped stucco wall flanked the right side of the lot to the street, where a crooked chain-link fence extended across the face of the desert weed–infested lot to the corner of the bare, two-story building on their left. A small stain midway down the lip of this building’s roof marked where the first cartel lookout had died. Nathan had no idea where the others Alpha and Bravo had taken down had fallen.
David moved past them, his rifle trained on the street beyond the chain-link fence. Nathan flipped his night-vision visor up for a second, curious to gauge the impact of the CLM-induced blackout. The sky beyond the building to their left glowed deep blue, casting a faint twilight hue over the lot. Dark enough.
“This way,” whispered one of their escorts from darkness at the back of the lot.
Nathan lowered his visor and followed the men toward a human-size gap in the cinder-block wall spanning the rear of the lot. Automatic gunfire erupted in the distance, echoing off the buildings surrounding them. Nathan stopped and raised his rifle. Another burst of gunfire tore through the night.
“This is a bad idea,” he muttered, rubbing the selector switch on his rifle with his thumb.
At the gap in the wall, Bravo glanced back over his shoulder. “This is completely normal for Mexicali. Nothing to worry about.”
Nathan and Keira shared a blank look, then he took their son’s hand and slipped with Keira through the gap into a long-neglected alley and turned east.
Two point one miles to go—through a city gone mad. Nothing to worry about at all.
CHAPTER 19
David trailed Keira by several steps, already drenched in sweat in the stifling heat. His position in the back required him to scan the area behind the group for threats while keeping track of the formation’s movement, a juggling act made all the more difficult by the Fishers’ erratic progress. The frequent sound of distant gunfire stopped one of them nearly every time, once again halting the group’s advance along the empty alley. He understood the family’s hesitation and fear on a logical level, but it frustrated him nonetheless. After the first dozen harmless bursts of faraway automatic weapons fire, he had expected them to adjust to their environment.
A prolonged chain of deep thumps resounded through the alley, freezing all the Fishers in their tracks. David turned to face the rear, sweeping his rifle across the alley.
“What the hell is that?” whispered Nathan.
David turned his head and put a gloved finger to his lips before leaning close to Keira. “Probably a 50-caliber machine gun,” he whispered in her ear. “Nowhere close to us. Pass it on, quietly.”
He resumed his vigil, silently watching the alley until he heard his group resume their advance behind him, their boots softly scraping the ground. He waited a few seconds and then started after them, walking backward and glancing back every so often to track the formation’s progress. They proceeded at a fast walk for another minute, until Alpha raised a fist and took a knee, leaning against the graffiti-covered concrete wall that framed the left side of the alley. Bravo nestled in behind him, holding an open hand to the Fishers, who tucked themselves in against the wall a few paces back. David saw the wide boulevard ahead, representing their first passive obstacle. A few moments later, Alpha signaled him forward.
“This is Calle Gaston Salazar,” he whispered when David had taken a knee next to him. “Calle D, if you’re keeping track of the grid. It’s one of the busier roads up here during the day. Sounds and looks quiet now, but we’re still going to cross in small groups. I’ll go first, by myself, setting up at the corner of that garage. Bravo will bring the family across, with you holding down the fort on this side of the street. Anyone on the street not associated with this group is a priority target. We can’t risk detection. Good to go?”
“Good to go,” said David, though he was a little surprised by the rules of engagement. Anyone on the street? A little extreme. He’d make that call on a case-by-case basis. He had no intention of shooting someone walking home with groceries.
Once the Fishers had been briefed by Bravo, Alpha edged forward along the wall until he reached a twisted, wrought-iron fence extending to the sidewalk. Beyond a few scattered, very distant gunshots, the street was deathly still. Either nobody dared to venture onto the streets at night in a blackout, or the night was just getting started. Either way, he liked what he heard. They had a thirty- to forty-minute transit ahead of them. Quiet was good.
David settled into position behind the Fishers and trained his weapon back down the alley. Alpha had crossed the street by the time he looked over his shoulder to check. The operative crouched next to the one-story garage, swept his rifle in a slow arc from left to right, then summoned Bravo with a hand signal. Bravo led the Fishers in a dead sprint across the street and past the concealed operative, continuing deep into the alley, where they huddled in a shallow doorway.
David kept his eyes on Alpha, waiting for his turn to cross. A nod from Alpha launched him forward. He was racing across the street when a voice yelled something in Spanish, causing him to slow and level
his rifle. A car door had opened to David’s right and deposited a scraggly, bald male on the street. David placed the rifle sight’s green circular reticle in the center of the man’s head, applying pressure to the trigger. Anyone on the street.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. ¿Qué pasa, amigo?” yelled the man, holding his hands above his head. “¿Estás perdido?” He had no idea what the guy was saying, but he appeared to pose no threat to the group. The man’s head snapped back, a sharp crack reaching David’s ear before the body collapsed to the street.
“Get out of the fucking street,” hissed Alpha.
David cleared the road and joined the Fishers in the doorway. Alpha slid next to him a second later.
“The cartel has people everywhere—standing on rooftops, hanging out on porches, hiding in bushes . . . sitting in fucking cars. They get paid if they report something useful to the cartels.”
“What kind of idiot lookout exposes himself like that?”
“It’s a risk we can’t take. That’s why we shoot anyone on the street that might be in a position to see us. I thought I was pretty clear on that point. This is too important to take a chance.”
David had no intention of burning a kid taking out the trash—or letting one of these fuckers do it. This wasn’t how Marines operated.
Alpha patted him on the shoulder. “Hey. Don’t get wrapped over this. Shaved head. Tattoos on his neck. The guy was cartel, or a cartel wannabe. We don’t discriminate. Trust me, that’s all you’re gonna see out here.”
“And if I see something else?”
“Then look the other way. Unless I see a grandma in a wheelchair or a kid riding a tricycle, I’m not taking any chances.”
“We’re burning through our blackout window,” whispered Bravo.
“Copy that,” said Alpha, standing up. “You good?”
“Good as I’ll get,” said David, glancing toward the street. “So we just leave him there?”
“Nobody gives a shit about a lone lookout going down. If they find more than one—that’s a different story. But you’ll be long gone before anyone connects those dots,” he said. “Same formation. Let’s go.” Alpha and Bravo started down the next alley.
Rogue State (Fractured State Series Book 2) Page 11