Midnight Trust

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Midnight Trust Page 25

by M. L. Buchman

Phase III was running fine. The last few of the Phase II top twenty should be taken care of within the hour. That left only the three generales of Phase I.

  If Daniela’s intel was trustworthy—and no reason to think it wouldn’t be—that should work as well. Which meant that by the end of the afternoon, this mission would be complete.

  Then—Tanya had to get up and pace away from Smith to hide her feelings—Daniela would get taken down.

  And the team would move on to another assignment and this safe house would probably be abandoned, leaving her rootless once again.

  The temptation to bury her face in her hands in misery almost overwhelmed her training to present a neutral expression to everyone around her.

  She liked and respected Daniela. She loved Chad. And she didn’t know what to do with either of those emotions.

  “Daniela is really something, isn’t she?” Smith effused happily.

  For the operation, he’d set up a trio of screens. One was his master lists. Another a map of Medellín so that he could assist any team who called in. The last, at least at the moment, had a full-screen shot of Daniela. Her image had the slight blur at the edges common with most security cameras—so Smith had tapped into someone’s system. She had her handgun out, double-fisted, and aimed at someone just out of view. She looked like the apocalyptic horsewoman Death. Her face was beautiful, even in an angry snarl. Her figure was on clear display as she braced for a possible shot. She looked powerful. Indomitable.

  And Delta’s job was to take her down.

  To take her down would shatter la Capitana’s cartel. Take Silva as well and it might never be a factor again. But to do that now, after all she’d done to wipe out el Clan del Golfo wasn’t right. But neither could they release her to go back to running her drugs.

  Tanya had tried to arrange something for her, but that would only heal the moment. Then she would be shipped off to an American prison. It would be kinder to shoot her where she stood.

  Smith continued looking at the screen in the same dreamy way she’d noticed earlier. She wondered if Daniela had noticed Smith and what her opinion might be.

  “You’re sweet on her.” The words sounded ridiculous as she spoke them, but it didn’t make them any less true.

  “The way you are on Chad,” he said absently, not looking over to her as another report flashed up on his screen. He tapped out a quick acknowledgement.

  Tanya tried to respond. He couldn’t be as gone on Daniela as she was on Chad. They’d barely met, whereas she and Chad were…what? Lovers? Yes. Warriors together as compatible as any Delta team? Sure. Committed? Not in any world that either of them lived in, because their worlds were so far apart. And about to become even farther.

  “Pretty obvious on the two of you. Thought I was hiding it better,” Smith seemed to be speaking to himself.

  A CIA agent’s sensitivity wasn’t exactly going to be the most highly calibrated tool on the planet, but she’d thought she was hiding it better than “pretty obvious.” If he saw that much, what did Daniela see? Or Carla? Or…herself?

  No way was she going anywhere near a mirror or that “I’m so in love with Chad” woman might pop back into view and Tanya couldn’t deal with that.

  “There must be something we can—”

  The door to the suite opened and Daniela strode in with Silva, “That’s Mr. Thirteen.”

  “And Eighteen,” Chad came in close behind. The kiss he greeted her with was an absolute toe-curler. Even if she couldn’t keep him, she was glad to have him for now.

  Smith looked at her in question, but she shook her head slightly to call him off continuing the conversation.

  Within minutes the rest of the team was back.

  “All twenty,” Smith practically crowed in delight as the team reported their final takedowns in person. He jumped to his feet and went through the team collecting high-fives.

  Chad gave him the high-five, but Tanya could see his puzzled expression as he followed Smith’s progression through the group. So even by the agent’s inherently jovial character, this was pretty exceptional.

  It was all explained when he reached Daniela last of all, even though he’d had to reach past her to high-five Silva before acknowledging her. Instead of holding up a hand for a high-five, he clasped Daniela’s hand in both of his.

  “I know we’re not done yet. But I wanted to thank you. You’re magnificent.” Then he even managed a quick hug. He thought he was being subtle, which was kind of cute actually. Not a woman in the room missed it, including Daniela—who appeared pleasantly bemused.

  Tanya checked to see if Chad had noticed, but he was chatting with Duane as he turned to the armory table and began reloading the magazine for his P90. Richie had moved to the computer to double-check Smith’s lists while Melissa rolled her eyes at her husband’s back. Kyle knew he’d missed something and was looking around for it. Silva hadn’t missed a thing and he looked thoroughly pissed.

  Silva was a deeply unexplained factor. He didn’t appear to be her lover, but he was as protective of Daniela as any Delta operator was of their spouse. He troubled her, simply because Tanya couldn’t explain him. Having a wildcard factor in the final phase of this operation would not be good. Maybe by involving the whole group she could force an answer. Tanya raised her voice to get everyone’s attention.

  “We need to know—”

  “They’re in,” Richie called.

  Everyone’s attention except Richie’s.

  It was the moment they’d been waiting for. The fact that it was happening exactly on Daniela’s announced schedule merely confirmed the impressiveness of la Capitana’s operation and exactly why it had to be taken out.

  Tanya gave up. Too much was in motion—today the cards would have to fall where they would. El Clan del Golfo, Daniela, her and Chad: all of it.

  Nearby, just halfway down the steep hillside of Comuna 13, the three leaders of the entire clan were gathered for a meeting. Nicolás had been captured months before and El Indio had been recently killed. Two new leaders were being gathered by Otoniel, the alias for the head of The Clan, for the continuance of the operation.

  It was going to be their first and hopefully last meeting as leaders of the cartel.

  Richie’s comment meant that all three of their Tier I targets were at the same site.

  They’d done it. It had been the critical challenge, to take el Clan del Golfo’s operation out from under them without the three leaders realizing it. If they’d known, they’d scatter to the winds.

  Everyone gathered around as Richie began bringing up various views. He didn’t even appear to notice as he wiped Daniela’s picture from Smith’s third screen.

  Daniela looked at Smith for a long moment—he’d managed to remain close beside her as everyone gathered close. Then she looked at Tanya and tipped her head toward Smith asking a question that was easy to interpret.

  Tanya did the “considered moment” to show that she’d caught the question, then gave the small shrug and nod of “I don’t know, but he seems okay to me.” She wished she could ask Chad or Carla. To Tanya, Fred had been a voice on the phone three years ago and then the last few days. She liked him. She liked his innate cheerfulness and unthinking kindness. She couldn’t help but be impressed by the resources he could tap. And, perhaps to his highest credit, his absolute passion for this team.

  This team.

  They had honored her by judging her worthy for both this mission and the one long ago.

  They’d kept Fred Smith for three years, and she didn’t doubt for a second that they’d have shuffled him off if he hadn’t been a hundred percent on board.

  She offered Daniela a more emphatic nod, a solid “Yes.” Trying not to think of what that meant for her.

  Daniela did her own thoughtful look as she considered the answer. Then her smile went bright, with a hint of a hidden laugh, just moments before Tanya felt Chad’s hand slide around her waist.

  He nuzzled her ear and mumbled, “H
ey, beautiful.”

  “Hey.”

  “Took down three with Duane.”

  “Six.” She didn’t tell him that four of them had been together.

  It earned her a curse, then an easy shrug of acceptance. “Still three to go, right?” Or not acceptance. Man was as competitive as she was. She was going to miss him so much.

  And she was damn well going to take down at least one of them herself to make sure he didn’t get ahead of her.

  Chad looked at the screen and whistled. The leaders of the Clan, not knowing their entire operation was already toast, were in a building that had more in common with bin Laden’s fortress than one of Pablo Escobar’s lush estates. High walls bordered all sides.

  The cameras they’d hung in the area over the last two days revealed an impressive layer of guards and armor. Not just up-armored vehicles, but a couple of the police’s Hunter TR-12s were parked nearby—armored personnel carriers where they had no call to be at the moment.

  “Those are gonna be fun,” Duane sounded pleased. He was their explosives genius and would definitely enjoy taking those out of action.

  “I’m on the ground with him,” Sofia announced. “I’ll be able to get a better view of what’s happening if we walk in as a couple.”

  “Once it hits the fan, we’ll need shooters covering these exit streets.” Tanya pointed.

  Kyle and Carla nodded their assent.

  “I’m going to park a CREW Duke right here, then we’ll join you,” Richie indicated his and Melissa’s planned position.

  “CREW Duke?” Daniela asked.

  “Remote-controlled IED suppressor. It also cuts off all cell phone communication. I’ll leave open a single frequency for our radios, but the rest, we’ll just shut down. They won’t be able to talk without a landline.”

  “And that,” Smith stepped forward, “won’t be an issue. I’ll drop phone and power just after Duane blows the vehicles. Helos?”

  “No,” Tanya had already decided against those. “Not in broad daylight. This can’t look like a US military operation. We’re going in flying Daniela’s colors, so to speak. This is strictly an internecine conflict to anyone on the outside.”

  Chad looked at her quizzically. He was obviously thinking of his meeting with Colonel Sánchez.

  She shook her head to remind him to keep that secret as he’d promised.

  He shrugged an okay, with an afterthought of “Yeah, whatever.” Hopefully he wouldn’t shrug her off so easily.

  “Daniela and Silva, you two know the area best. I want you to ride down the escalators, timing it so that you’re alongside the building at the Go moment. We’re looking to you to block any escape routes to the south and those huge staircases and sliding escalators are going to be your best bet. Daniela, have your people block the escalators at the right moment to keep the public off them.”

  Daniela spoke up. “I will also have taxis and buses sitting two blocks back in all directions creating a traffic gridlock. Nothing in or out.”

  “Only one thing missing,” Tanya looked at Chad and smiled.

  “You and me, my girl.” For reasons that weren’t clear he stuck his tongue out at Duane. “We need shooters with an angle inside those walls. Any brilliant ideas?”

  “Yes.”

  And he laughed with delight rather than asking when she didn’t elaborate. Exactly her kind of guy.

  28

  Chad stood still and wondered just how crazy Tanya might be. If he’d ever thought there was anyone like her, she’d just erased that.

  They stood side by side atop the highest end of the big outdoor escalator that connected Comuna 13 to the city below. It wasn’t actually a single escalator, but rather six segments, each one five-stories high and interconnected by colorful little plazas.

  But they weren’t on the escalator, but rather on the roof over it. There were no sides, just a roof for the days it rained—open-air travel. Each segment was covered by its own simple roof. Steel box girders half-a-meter square were painted a dark red—and punched with a thousand little holes to make them both decorative and lighter weight—creating the edges of the roof. Down the middle was a wide expanse of glass to let the sunlight in. It ran flat for the first few meters, then angled downward very steeply. At the lower end, five stories below, was another short flat segment for the runout of the escalator.

  From here, the financial district far below was a shining beacon of glass towers. In contrast, above them vultures were circling, watching for dead things. It was an amazing view, enhanced by their precarious position. No safe balcony around them, no neat little handrails to keep pedestrians safe. They stood on glass, up above the city.

  He glanced back over his shoulder to where four of Daniela’s people waited on the roof of the safe house ten meters behind and well above them.

  “You sure you aren’t crazy?”

  “Certifiable,” Tanya admitted. “Crazy for you.”

  He faced her.

  Her smile was tentative.

  And he didn’t like that on her face. Because it wasn’t how he felt about it. Not at all. He might not have the words for Duane, but he didn’t have that problem around Tanya.

  “Plumb dead nuts I’m so crazy for you, lady.”

  And her smile lit up like a magnesium flashbang.

  “Best feeling in the world being smiled at by you.”

  “Know what you mean. You ready, Chad?”

  “Born that way, Tanya.”

  Then she raised her arm and slashed it down.

  At her signal, they both broke into a sprint across the upper flat section of the glass roof. Just as they hit the change in the roof’s angle from flat to a forty-five-degree downslope, the harnesses they were wearing snapped taut.

  Hopefully, at that very instant, the guys up on the roof would let go of the massive canopies they held aloft. The next ten steps were either going to work—or the eleventh was going to hurt like hell.

  He sprinted down the glass slope, leaning hard enough into the harness’ back-drag that he was running perpendicular to the surface. Every few meters, the roof’s windows were supported by steel ribs. He used those like runner’s blocks to sprint down even faster. Everything depended on speed.

  Five steps.

  Six.

  Seven.

  He kicked harder.

  Eight.

  Suddenly Tanya was no longer beside him, but he didn’t dare look aside.

  Nine.

  Ten.

  Elev—

  The harness finally hauled up and back, harder than he could sprint down, and his feet left the escalator’s roof. One last glimpse down through the glass, he saw Daniela’s and Silva’s faces upturned to watch them.

  Looking up, he saw that the broad paraglider canopy had unfolded properly above him. Not a lot of grassy hillsides for launching paragliders in Comuna 13. He settled the harness so that he was in the proper sitting position with the controls neatly to hand.

  Tanya, being lighter, had lifted off several steps before he did and now floated neatly above him. She waved.

  He waved back—and the paraglider entered a lazy turn the instant he eased the control toggle. Because Tanya thought of everything, she’d already rigged handle extenders so that they could steer with their feet and leave their hands free. He slid his over his toes as well, then, for a brief moment of incredible privacy, they circled silently above the city. The midday heat, baking off the heart of the city, was creating a glorious updraft all across the face of the hill. It was easy to climb and the ride was smooth.

  His alarm beeped—two minutes.

  He unlimbered his Mk 21 rifle and oriented it to point downward. Perspectives were strange from up here, but he found the target quickly enough. The escalator was thirty stories high—a vertical football field. He and Tanya had circled up to twice that until they were higher than most of the hills. The air was smoother up here, but had a tendency to head out to the countryside. He shifted his feet to crab acro
ss the wind, sacrificing some altitude but getting good position over the target.

  At two hundred meters up and sitting in the harness, he would be a moving target—most importantly a tiny target, about the size of a quarter held a full car-length away. A tough hit for someone with iron sights, which was all the guards down there probably had. Drug runners typically fought their battles at a couple paces or while doing a drive-by. Two hundred meters was way outside their typical skill range.

  “Never mind us, dudes. Just a couple tourists lost on the wind.” They’d gotten the chutes from the paraglider outfit that flew on the mountains southeast of town. So they were a common enough site around Medellín, if not directly over the city. The fabric was the striped colors of the Colombian flag: half yellow, a quarter each blue and red. Looking up, they were stunning against the blue sky.

  He zeroed in on the compound they were supposed to be watching, just as his watch alarm pinged the Go signal.

  Tanya couldn’t believe it had worked.

  She watched him circle and move below her. He was such a joy to watch. Somehow, in the process of her falling for Chad, he’d fallen for her. It didn’t mean she had a solution, but now she definitely had hope.

  Her lighter weight had let her climb faster and she’d used her altitude to fly farther east so they’d have two angles on the action below.

  Just as her watch beeped, down below, the three Hunter TR-12s were briefly outlined in brilliant light—the brilliant light of Duane’s explosives cutting their axles. None of them would be going anywhere. Through her scope, she could see that one had actually lifted off, landing back in the same position completely upside down.

  The outside guards raced toward the three explosions, away from the compound.

  “Shoot random guards,” Chad shouted across to her. “Wound or kill, doesn’t matter.”

  That wasn’t part of the plan, but she didn’t argue. From her height, she was in the low end of her sniper rifle’s range. On top of that she was shooting nearly straight down, making the math too simple.

  She missed the shot by a full meter.

 

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