by Bobby Akart
Using his catlike reflexes, Gunner rolled over in the mud and raised his leg to kick the man in the groin. His bare foot landed solidly on his target, causing the guard to immediately double over in pain. This provided Gunner another target, the man’s heavily bearded face.
The heel of Gunner’s foot caught the man squarely in the nose. He could hear the sound of snapping bone and felt the man’s warm blood splatter all over his uncovered legs. The guard’s head snapped back and he fell to the ground, unsure which injury to grasp with his hands.
Gunner didn’t hesitate to finish off his assailant. With expert hands, he landed a crushing blow to the underside of the man’s jaw, followed by another to the back of his head just below the ear, killing him instantly.
He caught his breath and grabbed the man’s AK-47 rifle. He jumped to his feet and swung the rifle around toward the center of the compound. Heavy gunfire was being exchanged, yet it was not directed at him.
He eased along the building, casting an eerie shadow as the flames found their way through the roof and fully engulfed the kitchen. Gunner wiped his eyes of sweat and mud, hoping to get a clearer understanding of what was creating the chaotic war zone that didn’t involve his destruction of the cartel’s mess hall.
The intense gun battle unfolded in front of him. The cartel’s men were hidden behind vehicles, the block walls that contained a fountain, and their dead comrades. On the far side of the compound, he could detect the distinctive muzzle flash of an M4 carbine.
The cavalry had arrived.
Chapter 39
Drug Cartel Compound
The Darién Gap
Colombia, South America
Just as the gunfire between the cartel’s guards and Bear started, it ceased moments later. Bear provided Cam cover fire so she could make her way to the next building around the perimeter leading to the front gate. The explosion rocked their surroundings, drawing an odd silence over the compound once again except for the crackling of burning wood emanating from the engulfed structure.
“Move!” shouted Cam, not only indicating to Bear that she’d survived the blast, but that she was in position to cover him.
“Moving!” he responded, hustling from the prison building toward a truck parked between the burning structure and the prison building.
“What the hell caused this?” asked Bear as he slid in behind the old farm truck.
“It’s gotta be Gunner,” replied Cam. “I wanna shout to him, but I don’t want these assholes to know he’s loose, or that we have anything to do with his escape.”
Bear leaned around the truck and fired off a quick burst from his M4. A single stream of gunfire was sent in their direction. Bear fired back and then turned to Cam.
She talked under her breath. “We’ve gotta keep movin’. Gunner’s smart enough to recognize return fire. He may not know it’s us, but he’ll take advantage of the gun battle to make his way to the gate.”
“You’re right,” said Bear. “If he escapes before we can find him, he’ll disappear into the jungle and we’ll be screwed.”
“Agreed,” said Cam. She surveyed their surroundings and then pointed toward the fence. “Head around the back of the building. We’ll use the distraction of the fire to our advantage. Keep tight along the fence until we reach the gate. Then shoot anything that moves.”
“Roger that,” said Bear. “Move.”
“Moving.” Cam darted across the opening and Bear laid down gunfire, emptying the last rounds in his first magazine. Expertly, he dropped the spent magazine to the ground and pressed another one into place.
“Move!” shouted Cam, and Bear scampered to catch up, relying on her protective fire to give him the few seconds he needed to clear the gap.
They rounded the burning building and darted across another span of thirty feet before they were behind the next structure. Suddenly, gunfire erupted again. Bullets rained down upon them, stitching the block wall to their side, splintering the stucco that hadn’t already fallen off from age.
“This way,” yelled Cam, who raced around the back of the building and appeared in the next opening. More bullets sailed past her, tearing up the muddy ground but missing their target.
Bear rounded the corner and eased up the side of the building next to her. A quick spurt from an automatic weapon could be heard coming from in front of the building. The guards returned fire, releasing a barrage of bullets that splintered the wooden trusses that held the tin roof in place.
Cam took a chance. She eased up to the corner of the building and called out, “Gunner! Is that you?”
“Cam?”
Cam’s smile almost broke the skin of her face as it spread from ear to ear. “Yeah. Bear too. You okay?”
More gunfire was sent in their direction.
“Yeah, better now,” he replied. “Listen, I think this AK is about spent. I’m pinned down behind this donkey’s water trough. Well, dead donkey, anyway.”
“Hold on,” she said and then turned to Bear. “Hey, mister football player. How far can you toss one of your grenades?”
Bear raised his arm to flex his biceps. “C’mon, Major. What do you think?”
“Throw one toward the barn over there,” she answered. “We need to distract them again, and it should cause a helluva fire.”
Bear adjusted his gear and retrieved a grenade from his utility belt. Then the former Air Force Falcons football player heaved the grenade forty yards until it crashed into the broad side of the barn. The incendiary grenade’s impact with the wood had the desired effect.
The explosion was slight, but the burst of fire was spectacular. The entire side of the barn was in flames, and the dry straw inside immediately caught fire.
Instinctively, the guards turned to fire wildly toward the distraction, giving Gunner time to race from behind his protective cover and join his friends at the back side of the block building.
Cam hugged him, and Gunner exchanged high fives with Bear. After the brief reunion, Cam got a better look at her friend.
“You’ve been foolin’ around with the drug kingpin’s missus? Caught with your pants down, were ya?”
Gunner laughed and, for the first time, took a look at himself. “Yep, guilty as charged. She was a handful, I’m tellin’ ya. Liked it rough, too.”
Several rounds ripped through the mud at their feet, reminding them of their predicament.
Bear pushed Cam and Gunner to the side so he could approach the corner of the building. He used his rifle’s scope to determine the location of the guards.
He described what he saw. “They’ve fanned out, guys. I believe they’ve figured out where we are.” He dropped to a knee and prepared to fire upon them.
“We’ve gotta do the same,” said Gunner, who took charge of their escape. “There’s only one way out of here that I know of, and that’s the front gate.”
Bear explained their point of entry. “We cut a hole in the fence, but it’s on the other side of the compound from our position and we’ll never get there.”
Gunner reached for Cam’s night-vision goggles. He studied the compound, refreshing his recollection from the times he was dragged through the middle of the clearing. He took them off and passed them back to Cam.
“On the other side of the barn is Blanco’s residence. He’s the head of the snake and the number one prick. He’ll be guarded, but he’s also arrogant enough to go toe-to-toe with us. If we can make it to there, we’ll take him out, and the rest will either run off or throw their hands up. Most of them are locals who don’t care about us or their employer, but probably fear his wrath if they don’t fight.”
Cam pulled her sidearm out of its holster and held it up next to her rifle. “Your choice. I’m good either way.”
“I’ll take the silenced nine,” said Gunner, referring to her Beretta nine-millimeter pistol. “I don’t want Blanco to know what’s comin’ his way.”
“They’re gonna have him guarded, right?” asked Bear.
&nb
sp; “For sure,” said Gunner, who took the handgun from Cam. “Navy issue?”
“Long story,” said Cam.
Bear handed Gunner two grenades. “Here. Take these. Use one to kick off the festivities. I’ll follow behind and let another one of these incendiary grenades blow up a truck or two.”
Gunner looked skyward. The rain was lessening and the light of a new day was beginning to reveal itself. He took a deep breath. “Good, Bear. I’ll use the other banger inside the house to back them down.”
Cam chuckled as she slid past Bear toward the corner of the building. “Oh sure, you guys have all the fun while I get stuck behind shooting these fools.”
Gunner laughed with her. “Yeah, tough duty. You’re a stone-cold killer and we all know it. Have fun—don’t miss.”
“No prob, but hey, while you’re in there, find some clothes, would ya?” said Cam as she readied her rifle to open fire. “Covered in mud and wearing your Underoos, you look like Tarzan.”
“Zorro,” Gunner shot back.
“Huh?” asked Bear.
“Zorro. The women in the jail said my name is zorro in Spanish.”
“Okay, well, Zorro,” she said sarcastically, “you and Tonto get movin’.”
“That was the Lone Ranger, Cam,” grumbled Bear. “Bernardo was Zorro’s right-hand man.”
Despite being in the middle of a deadly situation, Gunner paused to recall the classic fictional character. Bernardo was a deaf-mute. Like the kid.
Cam was ready and interrupted his thought. “Ride or die, boys!”
“Ride or die,” said Gunner and Bear in unison.
She swung her weapon around the corner of the building and shouted, “Move!” Cam let out a few quick bursts of cover fire, signaling the guys to get started.
“Moving!” responded Gunner, who led the way to the next building amidst a hail of gunfire being thrown in both directions.
Chapter 40
Drug Cartel Compound
The Darién Gap
Colombia, South America
As he raced through the mud, Gunner saw shapes, ghostly aberrations moving through the compound, shrouded by the morning mist and the last drops of rain, which signaled the end of the violent tropical storm. In the distance, the sharp crack of thunder accompanied by lightning tore across the sky.
The menacing silhouettes that Gunner observed slipping from the structures indicated that the daylight allowed the drug cartel’s guards the opportunity to position themselves for a fight. They were not necessarily trained military veterans. They were frightened and not willing to take the fight directly to their intruders.
However, they knew their compound and the buildings, which were constructed out of block with sturdiness in mind to withstand storms like the one they’d just endured. Gunner sensed their confidence, driven by numbers and familiarity with their surroundings. They moved swiftly and efficiently from point to point, fanning out their numbers to encircle the center of the compound while protecting the main house where Blanco lived.
Bear crouched by his side, as they now had a good view of the residence. It, like the other buildings, was nondescript except for a covered porch with tables and chairs for relaxing. It was the closest thing to a plantation house that a drug cartel kingpin could manage in the jungle. The Colombian cartels, far greater in number than their Mexican counterparts, lived in a constant state of flux.
The Bogota government had cooperated with the U. S. Drug Enforcement Agency to rid the country of its worst criminal element. As a result, the cartels had been pushed northward toward the Panamanian border in the Darién Gap. Here, they fought one another for territory. It was a lawless region of the world, and as a result, the cartels never got comfortable in one spot. While the Mexican drug cartels were known for their vast ranches and elaborate haciendas, the Colombians lived a more meager lifestyle despite their enormous profits.
“Ready?” asked Gunner, who wanted to begin their assault while the guards were still trying to position themselves.
“Yeah,” whispered Bear in response. “See those two khaki-colored Jeeps parked together? I’ll blow them first.”
Gunner slapped his friend on the back. “I’ll take the inside. You keep anybody else from joining the party.”
“I’ve got ya,” said Bear. He readied the grenade. “On your go.”
Gunner readied his pistol and gave Bear the order. “Go!”
Bear heaved the grenade, which landed against the fender of one Jeep and then careened against the door of the other. The pinball-like action instantaneously detonated the grenade with a huge blast of energy that was supplemented by the igniting of the vehicles’ gas tanks.
Both Jeeps jumped into the air, flipping on their sides in suspended animation for a brief moment before falling hard to the ground.
Gunner didn’t pause to watch the carnage unfold. Both Bear and Cam opened fire on their available targets. The sounds of death filled the air as bodies were ripped open by automatic gun fire and the wounded moaned for help.
Gunner raced through the gap between the two buildings, his weapon trained on the front door. His bare feet sloshed through tiny puddles of water along the way. He was careful of his footing, reminding himself that speed could be attained; sudden stops would lead to disaster.
Two men emerged from the front door carrying automatic rifles. They were confused at first as they focused their attention on the burning Jeeps. Gunner didn’t waste any time dispatching the gunman closest to him. Two quick rounds from the Beretta, one to the torso, the other to the head, killed the man instantly.
The other guard turned toward Gunner and fired wildly over his head. He was rewarded with two hollow-point rounds that obliterated his right shoulder. He spun away like a rag doll, his finger continuing to pull the trigger, sending round after round into the porch roof. Part of his chest was missing, and he pirouetted to the ground, his gun sliding away into the mud.
Gunner rushed toward the porch. Another gunman emerged from inside the house just as Gunner arrived. He crash-tackled the unwary guard, knocking the rifle out of his hands through the sheer force of their bodies colliding. The pair spilled toward the ground, landing on top of the bodies of Gunner’s two prior kills.
Gunner punched the man’s chest, driving the breath out of his lungs. With a grunt, he brought the butt of his pistol down on the man’s forehead, opening a gaping wound. It also knocked the man out.
All of the pain and weakness he’d endured from the days of torture were a distant memory. Gunner’s inner soul was recalling what he excelled at—close-quarters combat.
And violence.
Through his training and firsthand experience, he’d developed a natural athleticism and an innate ability to sense openings in his adversary’s guard. Gunner didn’t care how the kill was made. It was always about self-preservation for him. Whether it was returning from a mission in a fighter jet, or a dark op with his team, he came home in one piece from these encounters, and his enemies didn’t.
With water running through the holes caused by the errant gunshots, Gunner grabbed the man’s rifle and pushed his way through the blood-covered mud so that his back was against the wall. He readied the automatic rifle in his left hand and the Beretta handgun in his right. One would be used for suppressive fire and the other for accurate kill shots.
He burst into the entryway of the residence and swung the rifle menacingly from side to side, ready to shoot any threat. Anger swelled within him when he saw a woman with two young children no more than six years old cowering in the corner of the room.
They appeared to be natives of Colombia or Panama. The woman was not one of Blanco’s concubines but, rather, a caretaker for the home and the children. Her cowardly boss was most likely hiding within the house while the innocents were exposed to the gunfire.
They looked at Gunner with horror on their faces. He locked eyes with the family and then raised his pistol to his lips.
“Shush,” he instruc
ted. It was a directive understood around the world. Be quiet. All three nodded their heads and the woman hugged them tighter.
There were two hallways leading toward the rear of the house, and Gunner was about to pick one when another explosion shook the foundation of the block building.
Chapter 41
Drug Cartel Compound
The Darién Gap
Colombia, South America
The hail of gunfire outside the house almost drew Gunner to retreat so he could assist Cam and Bear. Shouts of instructions in Spanish filled the air, equally mixed with cries for help and wails of pain.
He took a few steps back toward the door and glanced into the compound. Apparently, Bear had located some fuel drums and dropped another incendiary grenade in their midst. Thick black smoke poured into the sky as a fire burned out of control. One of the guards rolled around on the wet ground in an attempt to put out the fire that had engulfed his clothing.
For an instant, Gunner considered the fact that Blanco had already escaped. However, the presence of the three armed men he’d killed indicated the sadistic cartel leader was still there. It wasn’t likely the men had been assigned to protect the old woman and the two kids.
Daylight was upon them now, but the curtains of the residence had been pulled closed. Still, the low light gave Gunner the confidence he needed to search the house for his torturer. He slowly walked down the hallway toward a kitchen at the rear of the building.
He saw the shadow of a gunman, a rifle protruding from his shoulder, ready to shoot Gunner as he entered the room. He had other plans for his attacker.
He retrieved one of the flash-bang grenades from the waistband of his underwear and tossed it into the kitchen. He stepped back against the wall and held his hands over his ears as the stun grenade produced a blinding flash coupled with an intense blast.
“Arrggh!” screamed the man as he staggered haplessly around the corner. He’d dropped his weapon and bounced into the hallway, disoriented.