by Leigh Barker
Smokey worked the vehicle along the narrow trail, slower now with the lights out and the target approaching. Ethan twisted in his seat and looked back. Chuck had his goggles on the top of his head and was checking his GPS.
“Two miles.”
Ethan nodded and tapped Smokey’s arm. “This is a good place for a picnic.”
Smokey had the submachine gun, so got point as they moved almost silently along the narrow trail. Chuck went next, ten feet behind the point, then Winter. Loco brought up the rear; he had his M40 over his shoulder and an M16 in his hands and ready. Andie was in the middle where Ethan could keep an eye on her. SecNav wouldn’t have chosen her for this mission unless she was something special, and he had no wish to explain to the secretary of the navy how he’d lost her.
It took two hours to cover the distance to their objective. Chuck was point now and raised his fist to halt the squad. They sank to one knee and scoured the trees for any movement. Ethan crept forward and knelt next to Chuck, who put his hand to his ear and pointed ahead.
Ethan nodded and signaled Smokey and Loco to split off to the east to take up their overwatch position. Winter closed up and moved silently off the trail to the west. Ethan gave them time to get ahead, put Andie between him and Chuck, and signaled him to move out.
Two hundred yards ahead, the trail opened up onto a clearing that led down to a fast-flowing river. Chuck raised his clenched fist and they froze. Ethan edged up beside him and saw the dark shapes at the edge of the trees across the clearing. They weren’t moving, which didn’t mean they wouldn’t be any second.
The clouds slid off the half-moon and the clearing stood out in pale blue light. The perfect killing ground. And that was just why the drug lord’s soldiers had set up there. Welcoming fireworks for unwelcome guests.
Ethan looked back to make sure the girl was out of sight and saw her on one knee at the side of the trail. Chuck watched the men across the clearing for a few more seconds, then stood up and walked out into the open. Nobody shot him full of holes, which was a plus, so Ethan followed and waved Andie to stay where she was.
There were five soldiers wearing woodland pattern combat uniforms and good boots. They might have worn berets, but it was hard to tell now their heads were missing chunks.
Ethan knelt, rolled the nearest soldier into the moonlight and leaned closer to examine the hole in the part of his head that was still attached.
Chuck knelt and whispered in his ear, “Loco?”
Ethan shook his head and pointed at the two holes. “Double-tap. With Loco’s M40, one is enough.”
“Then who?”
Ethan shrugged. “A rival cartel.” He looked back and waved Andie up. “Let’s not get caught in the middle of a war.”
“Copy that.”
Andie stared at the bodies with her mouth open and Ethan stepped in front of her.
“Got your toys?”
She blinked at him then gave a start and pointed at her backpack. “Yes.” She looked at the bodies again. “Are they dead?”
“I hope so.” He took her arm. “Come on. Time to do your thing.”
Chuck led the way down to the river and knelt beside a stack of trimmed wooden beams. Ethan and Andie joined him while he watched the clouds move over the moon. They crossed the footbridge over the river before the moon lit them up again, then followed the gravel path up to a dirt road that led to a white hacienda behind eight-foot walls.
Chuck pointed east away from the river and crept up to the road, then waved them forward, his M16 fixed on the house until they were over the road and Ethan was covering him.
The trees had been bulldozed for a hundred yards around the house, providing perfect cover for men on foot, so not a great military tactic.
They stayed low and followed Chuck around to the back of the house. He pointed at an arched wooden gate and smiled, his teeth extra white in the moonlight.
Ethan shook his head slowly and tapped his rifle to indicate there’d be enemies lurking inside. Chuck’s smile stayed in place and he waved him on. The gate would be locked anyway. It wasn’t, which was either careless or a trap. They hoped for the former and prepared for the latter.
Chuck opened the gate just enough, slid through and stepped to the side against the wall. He knelt and scoured the gardens for ambush, but the only bushes were of the flowering variety, banks of them stretching in a shoulder-high fragrant display all the way to the long steps leading up to the courtyard. Pretty plants and good cover. He put his hand through the gap in the gate and waved Ethan in.
They knelt by the wall for five minutes, watching the house and the grounds. A couple of soldiers ambled across the courtyard and along the low wall separating it from the drop to the garden. Ethan could see they were carrying what looked like IMI Galil rifles. Good choice.
Chuck put his hand to his eye, then raised two fingers and shook his head.
Ethan agreed, there would be more than two sentries. He looked up at the building. There’d be some on the flat roof for sure and at least another three or four pairs patrolling around the house.
He waited for Chuck to make a start. He was the navigator on this gig, he’d studied the plans of the house and surrounding area and knew how to get them in, and then it would be up to Ethan and the girl.
Keeping near the wall, Chuck led the way around the edge of the shrubbery until they were opposite the side of the house. He pointed at a flight of concrete steps leading down to a basement level and a board door.
The door was locked, but the key was on a nail next to the hinge. He opened the thin door a few inches and waited for a shout, but there was only the low hum of machinery. They closed the door behind them and switched on their flashlights. The machinery was a big oil-fired boiler and what looked like a water pump. Sewage had to go somewhere and down into the river was as good as any.
“Okay, we’re in,” Chuck said. “Now you’re on. I’ll take a rest here and dissuade anyone from stalking your six.”
“We’ll be back before you have time to take a nap,” Ethan said, and led the way up the narrow wooden stairs to another door.
He listened at it, then opened it enough to see into the house. It opened onto a wide corridor with several scuffed plank doors leading off. Either the staff quarters or stores. Stores would be better, less likely anybody would be coming back off duty.
Andie stayed close behind him as he walked down the corridor that seemed to run the length of the house. He moved quickly so anybody coming into the corridor wouldn’t have time to react before he could deal with them, and because he wanted to be out of the rat trap as quickly as possible.
He stopped a the end of the corridor, crouched and looked around the corner, then pulled back and stood. “The colonel’s office is on the first floor at the front. That means we have to take the stairs.” He saw her look of alarm. “Don’t worry, all the bad guys are stationed outside to stop us coming in.” He gave her a second to calm down. “We’re just going to walk across the hallway and up the stairs. As if we own the place. Got it?”
She nodded, but her eyes were wide open and she licked her lips.
“Piece of cake. Come on.” He put his M16 across his chest for quick deployment and walked out into the hallway that stretched right up to the roof rafters.
There was no shouting or screaming as they strode across the entrance hall and trotted up the stairs. All the first-floor rooms opened onto a wide balcony overlooking the hallway. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked left and right quickly, then crossed to the third door on the left, turned the handle very slowly and eased the door open. The room was dark, showing the office day was over. He wondered where everybody was, but put the thought aside. Where they were wasn’t there, and that was all that counted.
He waved Andie in, stepped in behind her, closed the door and leaned his back against it. She jumped when he put on the lights.
“Nothing’s going to shout intruder louder than flashlight beams on the windows
.” He pointed at the desk. “There’s your computer.”
He put his ear against the door and waited patiently.
“It’s encrypted,” Andie said to nobody.
He looked over to see her sitting at the big desk, doing her thing with the keyboard as easy as she would be at home, and smiled. She had no idea just how lucky they’d been not to be dead already.
The keyboard rattled quietly behind him for ten minutes and he tried not to will her to hurry. Then he heard a floorboard creak, and another. They were about to have visitors. He moved away from the door. Andie was locked in battle with the computer and didn’t look up. He pressed himself against the wall and drew his knife from its scabbard.
The handle turned slowly and the door swung in. A little fat man stepped into the room. He was wearing a light beige safari suit complete with long shorts and khaki loafers straight out of a sixties caper movie.
“Find anything interesting?” he said, in perfect English.
Andie’s head snapped up and she started to stand.
“Sit down,” the man said, then raised his right hand. “You armed? If you are, you should know this is a ten-mil Glock G40, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off. So you’ve got to ask yourself one question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
Ethan closed his eyes in disbelief, then tapped the man on the shoulder with his knife blade. “And this is a KA-BAR knife, Dirty Harry.”
The drug lord was fast. He spun around without any telltale get set and his huge Glock was sweeping in to blow Ethan’s spine out from the front, but his finger never received the signal to pull the trigger.
Ethan stepped aside as he dropped, pushed the door closed with his heel, and stepped up to the fat man on the floor. He crouched and pulled his knife out from where he’d rammed it up under the colonel’s chin and into his brain.
“You ready?” he said.
Andie tore her eyes off the bloody corpse and looked at the computer screen. “Yes. Ten seconds.”
She was visibly trembling as she pulled the memory stick out of the computer and stowed it in a pocket in her backpack. “Right.”
“Same as we came in,” Ethan said, then put his hands on her shoulders. “You cool?”
She frowned. “Cool? Nobody says cool anymore.”
“I do. Are you?”
She nodded. “Cool.”
“Then let’s go. And stay close.”
They made it back to the boiler room without kicking off any alarm, but Chuck wasn’t there. Ethan pushed Andie back into the shadows beneath the stairs and looked around slowly, his rifle leading the way. Then he relaxed.
“Are you repairing the pump, Gunny?”
Chuck stood up, grinning. “One of these days, I’m gonna outsmart you.”
“Day comes they’ll be throwing the earth in on top of me.”
“Tuesday, then.” Chuck came out from behind the big sewage pump and glanced at the girl. “Everything go down?”
“Mostly.”
Chuck tilted his head.
“This bunch need a new jefe.”
“Couldn’t just go in and get the data. Had to kill somebody.” Chuck waved Andie out from under the stairs. “Always the same with Top here. Gotta kill somebody. I think it’s his childhood. Not enough hugs.”
“We going anytime soon?” Ethan said.
“You’re the boss. Do boss things.”
“Then we’re going.”
“About time, I was getting all lonely hanging around down here.”
“I’d have thought you’d be used to being on your own. Personality like yours.”
“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.”
“Gotta have them to hurt them.” Ethan was at the outside door and looking through a narrow opening at the gardens. He pulled the door open and stepped out, his M16 pointing wherever he looked. Then he signaled them out without taking his eyes off the house.
They made the first two steps before being lit up like Yankee Stadium on Saturday night. As one, Ethan and Chuck turned, grabbed Andie under the arms and dragged her backwards down the concrete steps. A second later the shrubbery turned into an explosion of twigs and leaves as bullets filled the air like angry hornets.
“Fifty cal,” Chuck shouted above the noise of the garden turning to kindling.
“Ya think?” Ethan said, instinctively ducking lower and reaching for the door handle. He let it go as if it were hot. “What’s the chances the bad men are coming down the stairs in there?”
“Better than even,” Chuck said.
“There,” Andie shouted, and pointed up at the house.
Ethan and Chuck turned and opened fire and the men running up to the low wall tumbled like pins on a bowler’s best day.
“We can’t stay here,” Chuck said, and snapped another clip into his M16.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Ethan said, firing twice and reaching into his pocket for another clip.
The hacienda might have seemed deserted when they were strolling about inside, but it wasn’t now. Men with guns appeared on all six balconies and all along the verandah. They weren’t a problem yet; it was the ones running to the side of the courtyard that presented the real threat. From there they had a clear line of fire at the side of the house and the boiler room. Ethan and Chuck killed them with mechanical precision, but there were dozens of them. Way too many.
Ethan heard the supersonic boom of a high-velocity round and knew Loco was in the game. The men behind the wall were dropping faster than he could count, which meant Winter and Smokey had taken a hand. But the .50 cal on the roof was set up behind concrete blocks and covered every inch of the garden.
“We can’t stay here,” Chuck said.
“You said that.”
“Means nothing’s changed.”
“But the rest of the squad is here,” Andie said, and put her head down against the steps as bullets slapped into the wall next to her.
“They are,” Ethan said, and dropped a man stupid enough to jump onto the wall for a better angle. “We’ll be fine.”
Chuck gave him a quick look and got back to work.
In a momentary silence they heard engines approaching. Trucks. Reinforcements were inbound.
“We can’t stay here,” Ethan said, hooked Andie’s arm and ran up the steps with her stumbling behind him. As he hit the top step, he felt the air vibrate as the .50-cal rounds filled the space he was about to run into. He froze.
“Shit. Where the hell is Loco?” He edged back down the steps and pushed Andie down again. Then he heard the boom of a sniper round in flight.
The .50 cal stopped for a few seconds, then kicked off again with a new gunner, and the shrubbery shook like it was in its own personal storm. There was another boom and the .50 cal ceased firing.
“Let’s go,” Ethan shouted.
“Just the guns on the wall, but there’s a lot of them,” Chuck said.
“Yeah, just like Butch and Sundance.”
“God, I hope not,” Chuck said, taking Andie’s other arm and matching Ethan’s run. “That slow-motion stuff’ll be a bugger on my bad knee.”
They heard the crack of rounds zipping past them and cut left into the chopped-up shrubs, but now they were moving and not laying down suppressing fire, the men on the wall were up on their feet and firing wildly. A dozen, two dozen, and more coming every second.
Ethan knew they weren’t going to finish their little jog through the shrubbery.
They instinctively ducked at the first thumping explosion that was followed in rapid succession by two more.
“Grenades,” Chuck said, and slapped Andie on her shoulder.
“We have grenades?” Ethan said, pulling her along as fast as he could.
“Come to think of it…” Chuck said just as he wrenched the gate open and practically threw the girl out of the garden.
They stumbled and slid down through the bulldozed forest towards the road. And saw the two truckloads of t
roops bounce to a halt between them and the river.
“Shit,” Ethan said.
“You said that,” Chuck said. “But yeah, shit.”
Ethan heard the ragged boom of a rocket being fired. “Down.”
They half ducked, half fell behind a tree stump and covered their ears. An instant later the first truck rose into the air above an incandescent fireball and flipped onto its side.
Andie looked up and Ethan pulled her down again. “That’s an RPG. And there’s another one coming. I hope.”
The men in the second truck were getting out as fast as they could. But not fast enough. The RPG hit just behind the cab and tore the truck open like a fish can.
When the concussion had ripped past, Ethan jumped to his feet. “We go now.”
“Are they all dead?” Andie said, stumbling behind him.
“No, but after that, they’ll be looking for a place to hide.”
With men pouring out of the hacienda, there was no time for an elegant withdrawal. They ran down onto the road, killing every fool who looked like he was up for it, and were on the gravel path to the river without any holes in their hides, that they could see.
Chuck provided cover as Ethan led the girl over the narrow bridge, then watched the path while Chuck sprinted across and joined him behind the pile of beams to reload, and give Andie a chance to catch her breath.
“I owe Loco a beer,” Chuck said. “Taking out that .50 cal saved our hides.”
“Wasn’t Loco,” Ethan said. “He would’ve had to change his position to get the angle on the roof. Didn’t have time. And it was an AW L96, or I’m losing my musical ear.”
“Then if not Loco, who where they?”
“A guardian angel,” Ethan said, pulled down his NVGs and started moving again with Andie staying right on his heel like a nervous puppy.
Winter joined them silently as they turned onto the main trail south, and a few minutes later Smokey and Loco stepped onto the trail in front of them. Less silently.
“That was fun,” Loco said, grinning. “Lots of bangs and whizzes. Where’d you get the firepower?”
“God sent it,” Chuck said, and urged him on.
“God doesn’t like me, why’d he send grenades?”