“Our informants tell us they are planning an attack on your personal residence in less than two hours,” Micah added. “I suggest you move your family to a safe house. We have a helicopter standing ready to take you there and you can order your forces to lay in wait for the attack. The first group will be small, just to see if you are trapped in the building. They are planning to send a second wave of five hundred men to surround the hillside by your home and they will cut down everyone who gets in their path.
“They aren’t planning on stopping this time until they have destroyed you or at least sent a clear message to the people that they are tired of you standing in the way of their business. If your men take out the first small contingent, and then move to an air attack, you’ll have the upper hand. The only ones who will be surprised will be their men,” Micah finished.
“My intelligence people say I should be more concerned about a pair of hit men from the states posing as CIA trying to lure me away from the safety of my guards.”
Micah’s fingers itched to go for his guns, but he knew he’d be sentencing both he and David to death if he did. “Your lead intelligence officer, Montoya, was caught trying to send correspondence to the other side; I know he wanted to make sure you didn’t listen to us.”
“You can call Langley and verify who we are and why we’re here—” David began.
“Better yet,” Micah interrupted, “if you’re thinking this is some kind of trick, we’ll take the waiting helicopter. You have plenty of resources at your fingertips, call for your own transportation. Do you have somewhere you can safely wait to find out if we’re telling the truth or not?”
“Of course I do, but I wouldn’t be foolish enough to tell you where it is,” he stated, causing the group of Uzi toting guards to laugh uneasily. The place he bunkered in when trouble arose was not known, and the only reason why he had lasted so long for someone who opposed the drug lords so vehemently.
“Fine,” David said, standing and stepping away from the table, “just don’t ignore the danger posed to your family. We want to see you to continue to succeed. We’ll be at the Habitel Hotel until tomorrow at noon and then we are on a flight to Venezuela.”
Micah stood slowly, “One more thing, when this is over with today, you may want to dig a little deeper into your intelligence people. Montoya wasn’t alone in his efforts to help the other side and—”
The gentleman stood up and offered his hand to Micah, “I appreciate what appears to be an honest effort here to convince me that there is trouble within my organization, but I’m not even convinced that Montoya is guilty.”
Micah accepted the offered hand, gripping it firmly in his right as he clasped the man’s jacketed forearm with his left, allowing his hand to slide and pause. “That’s the problem with a good liar,” Micah stated locking eyes with the man, “he’ll make you want to believe he’s telling the truth. In a few hours you’ll know he’s the leak, but when you find that out, I would be suspicious of anyone loyal to Montoya.”
“That would prove difficult, because that would be about half my staff.”
Micah hesitated, expecting David to shake the hand of the deputy chief, but he was making no effort to make contact. David turned and opened the door and they walked out to the lobby. An attractive Spanish woman who appeared to be in her early thirties rose from the sofa, “Joaquin, what is this about?”
“You must be Mrs. Martinez,” David said, extending his hand to her.
She accepted it cautiously, still looking toward her husband.
David clasped his free hand on her shoulder and slid it back and paused. “Nothing to worry you about, I’m sure your husband has this all under control.”
It was quite clear that Mr. Martinez did not like David to put his hands on her as he came up and took her arm and turned her away from him, speaking Spanish as he did.
Micah didn’t speak more than a few words of Spanish, but David was fluent.
They walked out of the office building and headed for the waiting helicopter. Micah and David boarded as the group watched nervously. The blades came slowly to life, but soon enough they had lifted off and were swooping over the city.
“Did you have any problems getting it off your palm?” Micah asked as they sat in the privacy of the cabin.
“No. I overheard some of the murmurings by the guards that she had arrived and I figured she was a more reliable person to pin it on. How about you?”
“It locked tight on to the sleeve of his jacket.” Micah pulled out a silver brief case and opened it up, removing a piece of electronic equipment. He turned it on and watched the small blips on the screen.
“I’d really like to know how the hell the information about us coming down here leaked to Martinez.” David growled. “It was beginning to feel like we were setup.”
“True, and believe me, I’ll be grilling D’Angelo on how that happened, but, for now, it looks like everything is going according to plan.”
“Jimenez has twenty of his least valuable men going on the attack. When Martinez realizes we were correct, and that Jimenez is gunning for him, I’m sure he’ll take his group into hiding until the guards take care of the insurgence. As soon as we see them on the move, we’ll have him and then we can finish this job and get the hell out of here.”
Within an hour, David and Micah transferred from the helicopter to a Land Cruiser and were following the tracking signals from the devices they slipped onto Martinez and his wife. The attack happened right on schedule as the guards open fire on the inexperienced fighters.
David captured the radio signals as they informed Martinez the attack happened as the American’s predicted. His guard was being mobilized for an air attack. What the fighting forces didn’t know was that Jimenez, with the help of a pair of Americans, had already sabotaged their aircraft and a terrible accident was waiting to befall them.
Martinez, his wife and their two sons, the deputy chief and two other officials were on the move with ten of his closest, heavily armed guards. They were going to the bunker until the battle was over and Jimenez and his men had been taught a lesson, again. Unfortunately, Martinez had no idea that he and his wife were bringing the enemy to their door step.
They followed the signal to a village on the outskirts of Bogota and watched from a distance as the group entered a small and seemingly unfortified home nestled against the hillside. Micah was putting grenades in his flak jacket and grabbing the SAG-30 grenade launcher, ready to move from the vehicle when David stopped him.
“They’re not in there bro,” he said confidently.
“You just tracked them,” Micah began, but looked over at the screen. The green blips were on the move; David was right they weren’t inside the house. The house was against the hill, so there was no rear exit.
They watched with the slightest amount of amazement as the green flashes continued moving at a semi-fast pace to the left of the screen.
“It’s a cave entrance,” Micah stated as he pulled his topographical maps up on his computer, “wow, a big cave system, too. We’ll have to keep tracking and see if they come out at another house or if they’re bunking inside the cave. They must have some type of transport because they’re moving too fast to be on foot.”
“Nothing gas powered I’m sure. Most likely they have an electric golf cart they use to move everyone quickly.” David paused and looked at Micah. “I don’t like spelunking, bro. And, we didn’t bring the right equipment for going into caves.”
“We aren’t giving up. We’ll give them a little longer and then start driving through the village and see if they come out at another house.”
Micah removed the trappings of his jacket and placed it on the floor as they began moving slowly through the town. Several houses were easy to eliminate due to the fact that they didn’t rest against the mountain. The blips continued to move as David and Micah looked for what might be a likely exit from the cave. The road turned to the north as it began a gradual rise up the moun
tain.
“Wait,” Micah said, “They’re right underneath us. The cave travels under the road and crosses to that…” He was looking up the side of the mountain and could see what appeared to be a large deserted house wedged into the rocks. “I think we just found our bunker.”
David drove cautiously down to a small gully to the east as they loaded their gear on their backs and began the careful trek up to the house, ever vigilant for guards that might be hidden along the way. It was becoming apparent that Martinez had felt this house was so obscure that extra guards were unnecessary—a deadly mistake.
When they reached the building, they split up, David traveling up and over to the opposite side as Micah began looking for weaknesses on his side. He found the perfect place to watch through a small window. Within minutes, a door inside the back of the living room opened and the guards emerged cautiously inspecting the house and then motioning Martinez and his officials and family that it was safe to enter.
Micah could tell they were confident in the security of their hideaway as they relaxed and began to move about the house. He felt the soft vibration in his pocket as David signaled he was in place and ready for the invasion whenever Micah signaled back he was ready to attack. He had two options; pull his scoped pistol and take off Martinez’s head and be satisfied with making the original target, or use the impact grenade in the launcher and aim for the roof support to the cave opening, effectively collapsing the exit and then cutting down everyone inside. One signal to David would mean making one target. Two signals would mean David should be ready to move inside the house right after the explosion.
Micah didn’t respond immediately as he watched Martinez’s wife and two young sons move closer to where he was hidden and watching. He placed the impact grenade into the launcher and moved to a place where he could get the best possible shot. His hand went to the button on his phone, as he softly clicked the button once and then again. He steadied his aim and suddenly the quiet hillside reverberated with the explosion in the house.
Micah heard a woman’s scream as he vaulted through the window, he drew his fully automatic Glock-18’s. He had the special 33 round clips loaded into each gun, but he knew if he wasn’t careful he could unload the rounds in a blink of an eye and then would have to pause long enough to draw his two additional Glocks. But that wasn’t Micah’s style, fully automatic or not, his reactions were so precise that he would control the release of bullets by fractions of seconds. Even under tremendous pressure, he was deadly.
His first priority was the guards. Two were already down from the flying debris from the explosion and collapse and eight more fell to his guns in under two seconds. David was coming in from the other side of the room, taking out the deputy chief and another official. Martinez’s hands rose defensively as Micah approached, but they offered no protection as the last of the rounds emptied into him and the remaining man. It had been less than eight seconds and dead men littered the floor.
Micah moved to the bedroom, a fresh Glock in his hand as he looked at the woman trying to cover her children with her body in a corner of the room. He felt the touch of David’s hand as he raised his gun.
“We don’t have to get this bloody, bro—no women and children today.”
He could feel the emptiness draining and a little humanness returning; he didn’t want to kill them, but it was an automatic response inside him—responses were something he was going to have to learn to keep under better control. He nodded to David and the gun was re-holstered. He moved to where Martinez’s body was laying, grabbing the dead diplomat by the collar and dragging the body out the front door and down the hillside. He was so overloaded on adrenaline and testosterone that it didn’t take him long to get to the Land Cruiser. David was already in the driver’s seat as Micah threw the body into the back of the vehicle.
An hour later the body of Joaquin Martinez, the most successful Columbian diplomat to ever stem the flow of drugs from the rich fields of this South American country, was found lying in an alleyway in Bogota. A fresh shipment of cocaine was already in route to an awaiting frigate headed for the port of New Orleans.
There was an uneasy feeling that had been filling Micah since this mission had begun and it was becoming increasingly stronger. D’Angelo was up to something bigger than opening the vein of a new source of income. Micah and David had become the instrument by which D’Angelo would start a move for the top, Micah was sure of it. But someone else, whoever it was helping him reach his leadership goals, gave the information about their mission to Martinez. Someone wanted the brothers to make their last stand in Bogota.
It almost worked. He could still feel the pricking of his skin when Martinez exposed his suspicions. His training taught him if all was lost, make your target and accept your fate. It had been fated for him to draw his guns in that room and kill Martinez, but he overcame the urge and outwitted the death sentence. He had other plans to attend to when he returned to the States, but he would find out the answers he needed to this riddle one way or another.
Chapter Seventeen
We made it through the taping of the men’s show without Carrie giving me any trouble. I think she was still considering that I met her challenge in a most ‘un-princess’ like manner on our last go-round. I knew I’d face more problems with her, but the next time she’d calculate her attack a little more carefully.
Sadarius, as I hoped, turned out to be one of the best male singers in the group, and I knew he’d go far in this competition. A couple of the others were good, but he made them look amateurish.
As soon as the taping ended, I found Ryan and got out of there before Carrie could catch up to us. I really didn’t feel like a fight tonight, and besides, I wanted to get back to Colorado, back home to our place, a place I’d come to crave as a shelter from the rest of the world. Ryan appeared equally anxious.
Saturday morning I called my realtor, Jan Blakemoore only to discover someone put in an offer to buy the house I planned on leasing.
“It’s not a full priced offer,” she stated matter-of-factly, “I know you’d been trying to decide between buying or leasing, so if you are really interested in the house we could put in an offer to purchase it.”
I wasn’t concerned about the price, but more so the commitment I wasn’t quite ready to make. “Is there anything else in that general area for lease? I don’t think I’m ready to own just yet.”
“I’ll do a little research and call you back later.”
Within thirty minutes my phone was ringing with an excited realtor on the other end. “I found something even better, same neighborhood, but just came on the market this morning—and this one is fully furnished and has a pool.”
Ah, magic words to my ears. This time Ryan knew what was going on, so I invited him to come along. He was still against the idea of my moving out, but I could tell he liked the house.
“I’ll be over here all the time in your pool anyway,” he playfully threatened. “I don’t see why you’re even moving.”
I shot him an annoyed glance. We’d been through this already.
“I love it,” I told Jan. “How soon can we take care of the paperwork?”
“The owners will be completely out by next Tuesday, so you’re looking at Wednesday or Thursday at the earliest.”
“That works for me. I don’t have to be in L.A. for another ten days, so I’ll have time to get settled in before I’m out of here.”
Tuesday, I packed my stuff and was ready to make the move when I got a panicked call from Don.
“We caught up to Bryan Adams. He’s in Vancouver and will be flying back to London Thursday night. We’ve got a plane coming to get you. I need you in Canada by tomorrow morning.”
I sighed; moving would have to wait a little bit longer. I could tell Ryan’s feelings were a little bruised that he wasn’t coming with me to Canada, but I had to start applying the brakes between us. I told him I thought I’d be back sometime Friday evening.
It was a
good thing I had gotten a chance to get to know Pete and Jason a little better on the return flight from Tennessee because now at least I didn’t feel totally alone. Vancouver was absolutely breath-taking. Once again, I was terrified to meet a legend in the music industry, but, although much quieter and subdued than I thought he’d be, Bryan Adams turned out to be a very inspiring artist.
The song was more difficult than I imagined, but mostly because I wanted to throw all my emotion so hard into it that I was overstressing it. He explained I needed less raw emotion and more control. He said I needed to open my heart without spilling the contents on to the stage.
It took practice to find that balance of control and emotion, but eventually he began to smile as I sang, and I knew I had finally attained what he had been explaining. We sang it as a duet, to each other, just to see if I could hold that control with his accompaniment. That proved to be a real lesson in digging down into the soul. It was as much a lesson on focused emotion as it was in singing, and I was awestruck by the power of the knowledge.
I got to spend a little more time with him just discussing music, the little bit about the show that I was allowed to tell, and what kinds of song choices I was thinking about for future shows, if I made it that far.
He assured me, if I could stay open to suggestions and be willing to stretch myself, I would end up in the finals.
It was five p.m. and I had the choice of staying for the night in Canada or flying home early. I decided to get a night’s rest and head back to Colorado in the morning. Pete and Jason followed me around Vancouver for a little while filming me as I did a little shopping (drawing a crowd as they did), when I finally convinced them to turn it off and have dinner with me.
When morning came, I was ready to head home, but the plane wasn’t. They had run into a problem with the hydraulics and I was told it would either be charter another plane or give them a day to make the necessary repairs.
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