Devil's Dance (Trackdown Book 1)

by Michael A. Black

  All of the Vipers were expendable in the final analysis. Eagan would do his best to make sure they all got paid, but there was no way they were going to be in on his retirement bonus.

  Newman slowed abruptly and it shook Eagan out of his reverie. Seconds later the van bounced over a huge bump in the road causing everyone in the vehicle to bounce.

  “What the hell?” Cummins yelled. He was seated on the floor directly in back of Eagan. “Did we hit something?”

  “Yeah,” Newman said. “A Mexican speed bump.”

  “Jesus Christ.” The fat man was still shaken up.

  Eagan smirked.

  “Relax, Cummins,” he said. “At least it wasn’t an IED.”

  “Might as well have been,” Cummins said. “I hurt my damn tailbone.”

  That made Eagan want to laugh, but he needed the fat asshole to complete the money transfer after the deal was completed.

  Then I’ll never have to see that son of a bitch again, Eagan thought. He turned to Newman.

  “How much farther?”

  “Not long,” Newman said. “Maybe five minutes. But I’ll keep an eye out for another speed bump.”

  Eagan grinned. He was starting to like this guy after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Near El Meco, Cancun, Mexico

  Wolf caught up to McNamara and the boy after a quick sprint and called out to him. McNamara slowed to a stop and leaned against a near-by wall, out of breath. Wolf saw that Mac’s face was tinctured with exertion and covered with sweat.

  “Shit, this is taking more out of me than I figured,” he said. “How about you carrying this sack of shit for a while? I’m plum tuckered out.”

  Before Wolf could answer Accondras yelled, “Who are you guys?”

  McNamara bent and dropped the other man to the ground. He landed on his side, his hands were cuffed behind him and he emitted a loud gasp. The backpack was still affixed to his body.

  “Be careful, you idiot,” Accondras said.

  The boy was staring at him.

  Wolf stooped down and put a hand on the youth’s shoulder.

  “Como se llama?” he asked.

  “Carlos,” the boy said.

  “Okay, Carlos,” Wolf said, speaking with slow deliberation. “Esperas aqui con nosotros. No sermos dolerlo.”

  The boy looked up and nodded. Wolf thought the kid’s eyes looked less dazed than before.

  “You can’t do this to me,” Accondras yelled. “I haven’t done anything. Help!”

  “Shut your damn mouth,” McNamara said, his words coming out in gasps. “Or I’ll knock it down to your ass.”

  A look of terror filled Accondras’s eyes and he screamed. “Help me, help me!”

  McNamara balled his fist up and cocked his arm but didn’t throw the punch. The intimidation was enough to quiet Accondras. McNamara reached into the pocket of his BDU blouse and pulled out the roll of duct tape. He pulled a long strip and smacked it over Accondras’s mouth. He shook his head and worked his jaw, rubbing it over his shoulder trying to dislodge the tape.

  “Give him another shot of the Taser,” Wolf said.

  “Wait,” Accondras said getting his mouth free. “Don’t use that thing on me again. Please.”

  “Then shut the fuck up,” McNamara said, straightening up and looking around. “What’s the status of our two friends?”

  “Down for the count,” Wolf said.

  “Dead?” McNamara said.

  Wolf shook his head.

  Accondras said nothing and continued to rub his chin against his shirt in an apparent effort to get rid of the rest of the duct tape.

  Wolf glanced back the way he’d come.

  “We better get moving,” he said. “It shouldn’t be too much farther.”

  “What you gonna do with that?” McNamara pointed to the shotgun.

  It was a 12-gauge pump. Wolf depressed the action release and worked the fore-end in a pumping action, ejecting four stored rounds. With the breech locked open, he walked across to a narrow passageway between two buildings and used his blouse to wipe off the barrel and handle. Then he tossed the shotgun into the expanse.

  “Got two pistols, too,” he said.

  “Better ditch them,” McNamara said. “It’ll be bad enough if we get caught with old boy here, but if we’re armed it’ll put us behind bars down here for a real long time.”

  “Who’s paying you?” Accondras said. “Is it Von Dien? One of his flunkies?”

  McNamara looked down at him. “I thought I told you to shut up.”

  “It’s gotta be that fucking Fallotti, right?” Accondras said. “That son of a bitch is a no good liar.” His words were coming out so fast that they sounded all run together. “I have what they want and they’re going to pay me a lot of money. Let me go and I’ll cut you in on it. They’re no good, I tell you. No good.”

  “And I suppose you’re Little Lord Fauntleroy,” McNamara said. “We’re bail enforcement agents and we’re arresting you for an outstanding warrant outta New York, asshole.”

  “What?” Accondras said. He appeared to be gathering his thoughts, then laughed. “You dummies. Uncuff me and I’ll give you double, triple what they’re paying you.”

  “That ain’t how it works,” McNamara said.

  The boy had been staring at the supine figure as he ran his mouth. He suddenly ran over and kicked Accondras in the face. He screamed and McNamara pulled the boy away.

  “Now, now, none of that, Carlos,” McNamara said.

  “You going to let that little piece of shit do that to me?” Accondras said. A stream of blood wound down from a cut on his cheek.

  “One more word outta you, asshole,” McNamara said, still holding the boy, “and I’ll shove this Taser all the way up your ass and press the trigger.”

  Accondras made a sound somewhere between a pant and a huff, but he said nothing more.

  Wolf pulled out the two pistols. Both were Taurus models PT92’s. He dropped the magazines and racked back the slides. A 9 mm round popped out of the chamber of each one.

  Wolf flipped down the takedown levers on each and field stripped them, removing the slides, barrels, springs, and the flashlights attached to the rails. He flipped one of the flashlights to Mac and pocketed the other one. After ensuring that the four of them were still alone in the alleyway, he threw each part in a different direction over the tops of the nearby houses then went over to Accondras and knelt beside him.

  “What you got in your pockets?” he asked, jamming his fingers into the man’s pants. He found a large roll of currency in the right-side pocket. There was nothing in the other one. Wolf shone the light over the roll. It looked like a substantial amount of pesos. Setting it on the ground, Wolf pushed Accondras onto his side, and began unzipping the backpack. “How about in here?”

  “Leave that alone,” Accondras yelled. There was a new urgency in his voice. “That’s my private property.”

  “Shut up,” McNamara said.

  Wolf pulled open the side of the backpack and saw it contained mostly crumpled up newspaper. He pushed his hand farther inside and felt something hard wrapped inside one of the newsprint bundles. He probed further but nothing felt like a weapon.

  “No, no,” Accondras started bucking around, kicking his legs.

  “Settle down,” McNamara said, placing his foot on the other man’s face. He sputtered and coughed.

  Wolf found what appeared to be a passport, but it was hard to tell in the darkness. He re-zipped the backpack closed and asked for the duct tape. McNamara handed it to him, and Wolf began extending the roll, wrapping it several times around Accondras’s arms, legs, and ankles. When he’d finished the heavyset fugitive was trussed up so as to prevent any untoward movements.

  “Let me go,” he said. “I’ve got money. And I’m gonna get lots more. I’ll pay you anything you want.”

  Wolf ignored the man’s pleas and slipped the duct tape into his blouse pocket. He picked up the roll of curre
ncy he’d taken from Accondras and held it toward the boy.

  The youth’s eyes widened momentarily and he grabbed for the money, but Wolf closed his fingers over it.

  “Carlos, escuchame,” he said. “Este hombre y Salvador serán matarlo. Comprende?

  The boy’s eyes never left the money. He nodded.

  Wolf handed it to him, but still retained possession as he issued one more admonishment: “Tomalo. Todo. Es suyo. Pero no vaya con Salvador otra vez. Nunca.”

  “Sí,” Carlo said. “Comprendo.”

  Wolf released his grip on the money and the boy pulled it to his breast and began to dart away but stopped. He looked up at Wolf, and then to McNamara.

  “Gracias,” he said, and disappeared between the two buildings.

  “Well,” McNamara said. “At least we got that part right.”

  “Yeah. For now, anyway.” Wolf picked Accondras up, straightening him, then squatted and hoisted the bound man onto his shoulder. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

  A pair of red brake lights flashed down at the mouth of the alleyway about a hundred yards away. A motorcycle pulled up, its headlight illuminating the path before them. It had to be José. At least Wolf hoped that’s who it was and not some Mexican cop. They increased their pace and Wolf was starting to feel the strain of running with Accondras on his shoulder. He wondered how Mac had done it.

  Suck it up, he thought. Almost there.

  “That’s them,” McNamara said. “Can you make it?”

  Wolf’s words came out spaced between each step: “Did … that … bear … shit … in … the … woods?”

  Eagan shone his light around as he surveyed the area where the exchange was supposed to be made. It was a flat, circular section between some low stone walls about three feet high made out of uneven white flagstones. Off to the right a decrepit pyramid that looked like a glorified rock pile appeared to have been constructed out of the same flagstones. The dark shapes of more buildings flanked the access road leading into this section from the main road. Placement of snipers and a react team would be easy. There was plenty of cover. He turned to Cummins. The two bounty hunters, Nasim, and the three other Vipers stood off to the side.

  “Zerbe check in yet?” Eagan asked.

  “They’re on the way,” Cummins said. “Right on schedule. Five to ten mikes.”

  The usage of military terminology amused Eagan and reminded him of the screwed-up mission in Iraq four years ago. Cummins was trying to prove his combat zone creds then, too, but after the shit hit the fan and the shooting started, the fat son of a bitch had practically pissed his pants.

  “Weapons?” Eagan asked.

  Cummins shook his head and pulled out his phone, scrambling to send another text.

  What an incompetent asshole, Eagan thought.

  Nasim stood there grinning, his eyes locking with Eagan’s.

  “Okay, you heard the man,” he said, figuring the wording would give Cummins a faux boost in self-esteem. He was still the key to the money transfer. “Harper and Newman deploy there and there.” He pointed to the dipping embankments about thirty feet away that were reinforced by more flagstone walls. “Keep ready in case things go south, but under no circumstance do you open fire on any personnel inside the van. Our target must be taken unharmed. Clear?”

  The two Vipers grunted out assents.

  Eagan turned to Reynolds. “Okay, you approach them from our van, which will be parked facing them. They’ll be arriving on this road so they should be stopping here, where Zerbe tells them. The two of them both know you from the briefing you gave in Vegas. Proceed over to their vehicle and keep them occupied. Try to draw them out, and then—”

  “No guns,” Cummins said. “Zerbe just texted me.”

  Eagan hated to be interrupted and glared down at the heavyset lawyer. After letting the silence resonate, he continued.

  “As I was saying, try to draw them out of the vehicle. If not, no sweat. The main thing is to keep them distracted.”

  “What about us?” the bounty hunter named Reno asked. “Where are those Glocks you showed us?”

  Another interruption. Eagan couldn’t wait to jettison these two bozos.

  “Glad you asked,” he said, reaching into his ditty bag and pulling out the two Glock 19’s. He handed a weapon to each of the bounty hunters. “While Reynolds is keeping them distracted, you two sneak up from over there.” Eagan pointed to the ungainly stack of flagstones to the left of the access road. “Approach their vehicle from the rear and get the drop on them. Our man on the inside says neither of them is driving or in the front seat, so they won’t have visual capabilities in the mirrors. Take charge of the target and remove him from the vehicle.”

  Reno and Herc exchanged glances and smiled.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Reno said. “Just like we done them up before.”

  “Just try not to shoot anybody,” Eagan said.

  “Relax,” Reno said. “We know what we’re doing.”

  “We’re professionals,” the other one said.

  The black guy pulled back the slide of the Glock a few centimeters to visibly check if a round was in the chamber. Reno did the same, and upon glimpsing the glint of brass, let the slide ease forward.

  If they only knew, Eagan thought.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Near El Meco, Cancun, Mexico

  The van sped through the dark streets dipping and weaving and occasionally slamming on its brakes. Beside them Wolf could hear the high-pitched buzz of José’s motorcycle escort.

  “I’m sure glad you had the foresight to dump those weapons,” Zerbe said, half turning to look back on them from the front passenger seat. “In the off chance we do get stopped by the local constabulary; it’ll make things a lot simpler. A small bribe and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Un mordida,” Paco said, grinning.

  “Down here,” Zerbe continued, “you get caught with a gun, it’s off to jail, without passing go, for a long, long time.”

  “En el gran carcel,” Paco chimed in again, “Es muy duro.”

  “You guys are fools,” Accondras shouted. “This whole thing’s a set up. Let me go and I’ll make you both richer than you ever dreamed.”

  “Why don’t you put some of that damn duct tape over his mouth,” Zerbe said. “I’m getting tired of smelling his breath.”

  That was like the pot calling the kettle black, Wolf thought, considering how foul Zerbe’s breath and body smelled.

  Nevertheless, McNamara peeled off a strip of tape and slapped it over Accondras’s lips. The bound man immediately began to work his jaw to try and dislodge it.

  “You get that off of there,” McNamara said, “and I’ll have to seriously consider breaking your jaw.”

  Accondras stared up at him, then stopped the movement.

  The van bounced suddenly over a huge bump and Accondras’s lower body flipped up and came down hard on the metal floor. He emitted an extended moan.

  “Let’s see if we can make him a little more comfortable.” Wolf took out his Bali-song and flipped it open.

  “Hey,” McNamara said. “You got the knack of that down real good.”

  Paco hit another bump, then slowed a bit to execute a right turn. The noise from the tire told Wolf they’d transferred from asphalt to gravel.

  Wolf grabbed hold of the closest strap securing the backpack, slipped the blade underneath, and began a sawing motion. Accondras’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

  “Relax,” Wolf said. “I’m not going to cut you.”

  Accondras shook his head violently and began working his jaw with a frantic motion.

  Wolf cut through the first strap and grabbed the second one.

  As he was slicing through it, he heard Paco grunt, “Por ahí. Mira.”

  The buzzing of the motorcycle diminished somewhat, as if it had slowed appreciably. Wolf looked up. Between the two front seats he could see through the windshield. They were entering a maze of ric
kety old stone buildings. The area in the center was a flat expanse about sixty yards wide. There were more stone structures along the perimeter giving the flat area an almost circular shape.

  El Meco, Wolf thought. The ancient Mayan ruins of a lost civilization.

  Cancun …The nest of vipers.

  Eagan watched the approach of the other van as it pulled onto the winding road leading to their position in the center of the flat expanse.

  Finally, he thought.

  The sour smell of Cummins’s sweat wafted over as the obese lawyer squatted next to him. Nasim was on the other side smelling equally foul.

  Maybe I can use the funk to break Accondras down faster, he thought with a grin.

  “What if they’re armed?” Cummins asked. His voice was high and nervous.

  “Zerbe says they’re not.”

  “What if he’s wrong.” Cummins was silent for about ten seconds and then said. “We can’t afford for Accondras to get wasted before we find that artifact.”

  “Relax, for Christ’s sake.” Eagan was getting very tired of this gasbag.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom,” Cummins blurted out. He turned and waddled off

  To the bathroom?

  Eagan suspected that Cummins was having another gut-check crisis, just like back in Iraq. The fat prick was yellow to the core.

  Good riddance. He smirked.

  Nasim grinned as well.

  He keyed his mic. “Get ready. It’s show time.”

  Wolf could see a man walking toward them, silhouetted by the headlights of the vehicle parked behind him. It was a very deliberate and non-threatening approach, but Wolf didn’t want to drop his guard. He now regretted abandoning those weapons. It would have been safer not to go into this hand-off unarmed.