by Tom Ellis
The pilot managed to get the machine a few feet off the ground. The three round burst of bullets smashed the canopy and into his chest. He died with the throttle at max power. The helicopter spun around slinging the torturer machine gun and all out the door. The aircraft stalled flipping on its side smashing into the ground. The Diehard truck battery careened out and landed on the Iraqi’s head. The bodyguard died instantly from a broken neck. Remarkably the machine did not catch fire.
Burns changing rifle magazines. The finely tuned weapon deposited the spent cartridge cases next to him. Casually, he picked up the brass cases and put them a pouch. Andy rose to his knees and picked up the rifle folding the bipod rest under the barrel. Hadfield didn’t have time to use the spotting scope before Burns started shooting.
“Get the scope and the gear. Roll up the net. Now. We have to move. Clear the place like your cleaning up a crime scene.”
“Who did you shoot Burns? Is Kroll OK?”
“The problems at the Rocking H Bar are over. Get all the gear packed now. I’ll drive the ATV over to check on Kroll. Be ready when I get back. He reached for his encrypted laptop and entered several commands, shutting down all the cameras.”
Ivalou Vargas ran bare ass from the shop to her vehicle. Her concussed brain could not think clearly. She could only focus on getting dressed. She watched the helicopter crash without comprehending what she saw. Ivalou stripped naked and methodically begin changing clothes. She breathed easier when clad in modest undies and bra. Slacks and blouse followed. Vargas holstered her Glock and put the 380 still holstered and attached to the torn bra into her bag. She put on a pair of walking shoes. Her heart rate was still extremely high. An ATV motor raced nearby. Ivalou just stared at the open shop. Porn Dude still bellowed as he tried to duct tape his dick back together without concern for the blood pumping from his femoral artery. Vargas lost consciousness and fell to the ground.
Ron Kroll dehydrated to confusion, was sure of one thing. He was alive. Ron was not sure what he saw when the ATV roared into view. A cowboy was driving it. Kroll thought the westerner was taking pictures. He walked back to the ATV and removed a water bottle. He came over to Kroll and pulled a knife from his belt to slice the plastic bonds. Ron greedily drank from the proffered water bottle. Before he could swallow too much water too soon, the cowboy took the bottle away from him. He walked over to where El Jefe lay and removed an ornate pistol from his body along with several magazines.
All Kroll would remember was the man worn leather chaps, boots with spurs, a tan shirt, a bandana and a cowboy hat. And he drove an ATV.
Burns carefully walked around the ranch house, weapon deployed. He saw Ivalou Vargas lying unconscious next to her car. He removed a glove and checked her carotid pulse. It was strong. Replacing his glove, he stepping into to the garage and watched Porn Dude bleed out. Burns smiled.
Jolene had the equipment ready Burns drove up in the ATV. Satisfied the area was swept clean of evidence Burns said.
“Jo, drive back to the RV. Load up this gear and get ready to leave. But it is important the RV is ready to leave.”
“Andy, tell me that bomb is not going to explode.”
“Sweetheart, everything is OK. The bomb will not blow up.” He kissed her on the cheek.
Jolene hugged him tightly and would not let go for several seconds. Finally, she spoke.
“Burns. I’ll see you at back at the RV.”
“Watch for me at the barn. I’ve got to put up Don Cameron and Jazz. Then call Carson Bell and let him know we are leaving.”
“I can call Carson. We are coming back, aren’t we? This thing is still not solved.”
“We are, but somebody else is going to sort it out.”
“Got it. Let me get moving.”
Burns watched her leave and then he saddled up Don Cameron. He rode to higher ground where he could observe the Rocking H Bar headquarters with his rifle scope. Kroll was still down but breathing. So was the female agent. Burns pulled out the sat phone from his saddle bag. Reid answered on the first ring.
“This thing went down a day early. Head for the Rocking H Bar headquarters immediately. There is a WMD in the back of a Toyota truck. Secure it. There are two FBI agents there. Both are seriously injured and need a medevac. Keep the scene secure until the General gets back to you.”
“Will do, we will be airborne when the gauges are green.”
The phone went dead, and Burns dialed the General’s number. He downloaded pictures of the device. Burns was well on his way to the casita’s barn when a Blackhawk helicopter with no markings swooped over the Huachuca Mountains and descended toward the Rocking H Bar headquarters.
“So you two are getting out of my hair?” Carson Bell asked.
Burns finished grooming the stallion and then got the shoeing tools. He removed all four shoes and turned the horse out in the barn paddock.
“Yes, have Miguel take of Don Cameron and Jazz. I’ll keep the lease on the Casita until this thing plays out. We will be back when the dust settles.
“Burns I don’t want to know what you’ve been doing. But I expect it needed doing. TR came up on those two black FBI agents near our fence on the service road. He said it looked like Willie Hillman is dead, and one of the FBI guys is sick. TR is trying to get in touch with his girlfriend. I don’t suppose we will ever know what that was all about.”
“You probably won’t. But like you said, it probably needed doing. Thanks for continuing to keep our activities to yourself.”
“Be careful Burns.”
“Adios amigo.”
Burns walked back to the RV. He finished unloading the ATV’s contents into one of the outside storage compartments. Andy put the horseshoes he removed from Don Cameron in with his gear. He walked around the coach making sure it was ready to roll. A few minutes later he locked the Casita road gate behind him. Jolene sat quietly watching the valley.
“Burns this place is beautiful. I’m glad you kept it from getting blown up. I’m sorry I slept through all the excitement. Do I need to know what happened?”
“No, but a lot of folks who have been hurting people won’t be doing it anymore.”
“Good and I still love you.”
“I’m glad.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
ASAC Quarles and his Phoenix counterpart were going over the preliminary bombing investigation reports when the duty agent reported the shooting involving undercover agents assigned to the Bad Apple’s Investigation. Quarles summoned Harris.
Havelee was desperately trying to find her team after having gotten the message from Ivalou about the need to extract Kroll forthwith. The briefing she'd spent the morning sitting through kept her from reading the text when it was received. Ernie was the only one she managed to find, and he was held up at a sheriff’s roadblock south of Patagonia. Whatever Quarles needed for the bombing response would have to wait. She stepped into his office.
“Harris your people have been in a shooting involving a Santa Cruz Sheriff’s deputy. We are unable to contact them. Have you been in touch with them?”
“Which ones were in the shooting and are they OK?”
“Taylor and Morris is all we know. Morris called it and indicated they were not hurt, and the deputy is deceased. The Santa Cruz Sheriff’s Department will not return our calls. We are totally in the dark. What the hell is going on?”
“Mr. Quarles I received a text from Agent Vargas during this morning’s meeting. I could not read it until a few minutes ago. It was an emergency request from Kroll for extraction.”
“Kroll what the hell has he got to do with this? He got fired six months ago!”
“I misspoke; Kroll is the CI on Bad Apples.”
“EXCUSE ME MR. QUARLES!” It was the duty agent again.
“What the hell is now McGowen?”
“We got a call from the Army Hospital at Fort Huachuca. They have two seriously injured FBI agents that came in by an Army medivac helicopter. One is a female named
Vargas, the other’s name is Kroll. Kroll does not have credentials Vargas does. All the Army would say was the call was for notification purposes only.”
Harris was on the phone to Ernie. He picked up quickly.
“Can you get around that road block?”
“No, but I’m circling from behind. Ivalou said they had to do an undercover extraction on Kroll. I’m heading toward the Rocking H Bar, but I’ve got to go the long way around. The Sheriff’s people were about to throw me in jail, but I escaped.”
“Get to the Army hospital at Fort Huachuca. Vargas and Kroll are there. See what you can find out and call me.”
“Now, what the hell are you talking about?” Quarles demanded.
“Smith, the only member of my team I can find. I just sent him to Fort Huachuca. We need a shooting team in route to where ever Des and M&M are.”
“Our pilot and a forensics team are waiting on you, Agent Harris. The shooting review people are in route on another helicopter from Phoenix. I’ll take you to the airport; there is room you on the chopper. You are Taylor and Morris’s supervisor. Quarles why don’t you go get a cup of coffee.”
The Phoenix ASAC said, taking charge of the situation. He motioned Havelee to follow him. Which she did, glad to get away from Quarles who was overwhelmed by the situation.
“I’m not making excuses for Quarles. He is running like a chicken with his head cut off. Here is my card. I’m at this office for the duration. Go to the airport; everybody should be ready when you get there. The shooting team will fly out of Phoenix. They will be a few minutes behind you. Good luck. And take care of my man Ernie Smith. You poached a sharp young agent.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nye,” Havelee said reading the name on the card. Reluctantly she called Ransom Carter to brief him.
High on Special Agent Ernesto Roberto Xavier Collazo Smith list of flaws was that he drove too fast. Too damn fast was the way some of his colleagues described it. Another flaw on the list was his way of circumventing orders. Ron Kroll was his hero. But Ernie, unlike Kroll, would always cover the saddle side of his wranglers before breaking the rules. Fort Huachuca’s rear gate was closer to the San Rafael than the main gate. At least he didn’t side to a stop sideways when he arrived.
The young MP had never seen an FBI agent’s credentials and the one showing them to him wasn’t that much older either.
“Sir, I will have to contact my First Sergeant with your request to visit the hospital.” The MP told Ernie.
Ernie smiled and waited. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. And his reasoning was that Ivalou and Kroll were in the hands of medical professionals. And he, Special Agent Ernesto Smith, was not a doctor. He would just be in the way. The MP came out of the guard house and walked to Ernie’s car.
“Sir, my First Sergeant says our hospital does not have your people. They were stabilized for transport and sent by a civilian medical helicopter to Tucson.”
“OK, thank you,” Ernie answered putting his issued Bu-car in reverse. Minutes later he was happily westbound to the San Rafael. His first stop the Double B Ranch bunkhouse where he could change into his cowboy duds. And then to the barn for his best friend.
The helicopter carrying Havelee and the forensic team circled above the shooting scene as one of the agents shot video. Several times sheriff’s deputies waved them off and pointed weapons at the aircraft. They landed in a nearby pasture. The pilot thought it would not be prudent for all the agents to disembark until their status was known. Havelee, wearing a blue FBI raid jacket got off and approached the scene with her credential folder held high in the air.
Several Deputies approached her with rifles and shotguns aimed. Havelee was ordered to stop and keep her hands in view.
A man in uniform approached her.
“I am the Sheriff of Santa Cruz County. Get back on your helicopter and leave. If you don’t, I will arrest you for interfering with a criminal investigation.”
“I am Supervisory Special Agent Havelee Harris; I work for the FBI Director. You have two of our agents on the ground over there. I need to speak to them now.”
“Get back on that helicopter, little lady and get out of my county. And do it quick.”
The Sheriff looked at the closest deputy and pointed at the circling chopper.
“Take that M16 and fire a burst at that helicopter so he knows we mean business.”
Havelee watched in horror as the deputy opened fire on the helicopter carrying the shooting team. Their pilot was better at his job than the deputy was a marksman. The aircraft flew out of harm’s way.
“Now get your skinny little butt on that helicopter and get outta here!” The sheriff snarled.
Havelee took her time retreating to the aircraft. She noticed a familiar looking cowboy sitting a horse across the road from the crime scene and behind a fence. When the helicopter took off, it gave her a better look at the cowboy.
Ernie Smith didn’t bother to look up; he just sat on his horse smiling, watching over his handcuffed colleagues laying on the ground.
Harris was dismayed that the young agent hadn’t followed her orders, but was glad to see him where he was. One of the crime scene people handed her a headset. She put it on, and the pilot’s voice came over.
“Agent Harris our second air unit has reported being turned away from overflying an area south and east of our position. They were contacted on the universal frequency by a US Army Apache Gunship and told the airspace was closed due to national security. I have eyes on the Apache they have not turned in our direction yet.”
Can I talk to the Army helicopter with this headset?”
“Yes, but I will be able to hear what you say.”
“No problem land on that ranch road and advise the other helicopter to land also.”
The helicopter flew a descending circle east then south then west. Havelee watched the menacing Apache turn out of its orbit and speed in their direction. Her headset crackled with the transmission from the Army pilot.
“Descending rotor wing aircraft, you and the previously warned aircraft are in a closed airspace. Do not land, turn to a northerly heading, and leave this valley.”
“This is Special Agent Havelee Harris of the FBI these helicopters are on official business. Have your commanding officer contact the FBI Director and confirm our status.”
“That is negative; you are not authorized to fly over this area. You are subject to being shot down. Turn north immediately. Pilots follow those orders.”
“Go ahead and land,” Havelee said to the pilot.
“No ma’am, we are going to follow the Army’s instructions. I am responsible for the safe operation of this aircraft and its passengers. Take it up with my SAC.”
Both FBI helicopters followed the instructions. Once they turned northwest and over the Patagonia Mountains, the Apache turned back and joined another one patrolling the skies of the San Rafael.
“Pilot, can you land at Nogales?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ask the other helicopter to do so as well.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Havelee was on the phone to Ransom Carter.
The lead agents of the respective teams on the helicopters were reporting to their bosses, while Havelee was reporting to hers. She was the last one to finish her call. The other agents were irritated at the delays. Havelee punched in another number.
“I was glad to see you where you were. But that is not where you were told to go. What do you have to say for yourself, Ernesto?”
“I went to Fort Huachuca’s back gate. The closest place I could enter the fort. The MP told me that Vargas and Kroll were stabilized and sent by civilian helicopter to Tucson. I felt I could be of more use here. Besides the radar detector has internal batteries for the camera. It works well from inside a bag hanging on my saddle horn. I can send you the video. They have abused Des and M&M. I wanted to intervene but then there would be three of us in cuffs. Here I’m just a dumb vaquero watching the action. I
will be checking out the Rocking H Bar when it is all over here. And your boyfriend wants you to call him in the worst sort of way. He says it’s very important. And you won’t answer his calls.”
“Ernie, that is some of the most creative bullshit I have ever heard. But I will accept it for the time being. Just keep that camera rolling. And don’t attempt to go to the Rocking H Bar, until I tell you it is OK. Comprende amigo?”
“Si, Ernesto comprende.”
Havelee disconnected. She dialed TR’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“I’ve been calling you for over an hour now.”
“TR, I told you there would be times I can’t take your calls. You need to understand that. If it involves Larcena, we will have to work out a text message system.”
“Hav, it involves your agent M&M and what’s going right now. I wouldn’t have been calling for anything less.”
“I’m sorry, I spoke out of hand. What is it with M&M and Des?”
“I was working the fence near the road. I heard a siren and a minute or two later I heard two shots. I rode up to see what was happening. Des was throwing up; Willie Hillman was laying in the road with the back of his head blown off, and M&M was in the front seat of Hillman’s sheriff's unit. Des would not or could not answer me. M&M jogged over to me and gave me his phone. He told me to get the hell out of there and give to the phone to you and nobody else. He said to check the downloads.”
“DO YOU HAVE THAT PHONE IN YOUR HANDS?”
“Yes.”
“Turn it on and follow my instructions.”
A few minutes later Havelee was looking at the video M&M downloaded off the dash cam in Hillman’s police car. Her phone rang. It was the FBI Director himself.
“Agent Harris, you will leave your evidence team with the shooting team and have your pilot take you to the Tucson Hospital Trauma Center. Agents Kroll and Vargas are there. I understand the local Sheriff fired on one of our aircraft, and they will not let us on the scene. Carter is reaching out to the US Attorney in Southern Arizona to get a writ of habitus corpus so we can get our agents.”