by Eric Meyer
“Creech, this is Bravo. Confirm ordnance on the overhead Reaper.”
“Bravo, that bird’s carrying four Hellfire missiles and two five hundred pound GBU-12 Paveway II laser-guided bombs. Do you have a fire mission for us?”
“That’s affirmative, Creech, and it’ll need those four Hellfires. I’ll be back in just a few seconds, standby.”
He placed the cursor over each roadblock and clicked the button that forwarded the coordinates to the UAV, by way of Creech US Air Force Base in the Nevada Desert.
“This is Bravo, confirm receipt of four separate coordinates.”
“This is Creech, confirmed. Targets locked in, one Hellfire missile assigned to each target. Waiting for your go ahead.”
“Lieutenant!” Captain Castro shouted as he walked towards Talley. Sergeant Vidal was behind him clutching his assault rifle. The meaning was clear. “You are not planning to launch an unprovoked attack on this city? This is outrageous and illegal. You must not do it.”
Admiral Jacks intercepted him. “Now hold on there, Son. You and I both know we’re here for the same thing, to take out those drug lords.”
“Yes, but, Admiral, I have my orders. I must protest!”
“You protest all you like, Son, and I’ll make sure our Lords and Masters get to hear of it.” He looked across at Talley. “What’re you waiting for, Lieutenant?”
Talley keyed the mic. “This is Bravo. Confirmed four targets are go. Fire at will.”
“Four targets are go, understood.”
The AGM-114 Hellfire was an air-to-surface missile developed for anti-armor use. These particular missiles were the AGM-114M Hellfire IIs, designed to hit bunkers, light vehicles and urban targets. A one hundred pound precision guided weapon, the Hellfire was a combat-proven tactical missile system.
As Raoul Castro raved and shouted, and Admiral Jacks worked to calm him, the four missiles burned into their targets. Talley and Nolan watched in real-time, the UAV images downlinked to the tactical electronic tablet display. It was quick, ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ quick. Four roadblocks manned by heavily armed men, conscious of their unassailable power, posturing to deter anyone who might dare to venture near; then an almost invisible streak of movement, and the roadblocks erupted into smoke and flame. When the smoke cleared, they could see the remains, broken vehicle parts, bodies and a few survivors running away. Talley shouted at the Platoon.
“They’re gone. Let’s go pay the Salazars a visit.” He turned to Castro. “Captain, we could sure use some transport.” He waved at the vehicles parked nearby. Castro nodded.
“Sure, yes.” He looked dazed and indecisive. Whatever Jacks had threatened or promised him, it had done the job. “My superiors provided two of the trucks for your use. That should be sufficient for you and your men.”
“Sure. And you, Captain? Aren’t you coming with us with your men? I understood you were here to offer us support.”
“I, I need to get further instructions from my commander. We will follow you shortly.”
“Suit yourself. Men, let’s go. Admiral, would you care to ride in the lead truck with me?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Jacks smiled. No longer the deskbound senior officer, he looked ready for war in his dark Seal camouflage, half helmet, and lightweight body armor. Like the men, he carried an HK416 as if he knew how to use it. “Let’s go.”
They squeezed into two of the Colombian trucks. Each had a heavy machine gun mounted on the truck bed, and Dave Eisner manned the lead truck’s gun with Brad Rose to act as crew, feeding the heavy belts of ammunition. Will Bryce took the rear, using Zeke Murray for his crew. Carl Winters and Dan Moseley took the wheel of the front and rear trucks respectively, and they roared out of the building and out onto the road that led into the city, and the Salazars’ compound. In the cab of the rear vehicle, Nolan heard Talley’s voice.
“Chief, we’ll stop just past the roadblocks and make ready our assault. I’m thinking of using one of those five hundred pound Paveways to knock on the door. It’s not exactly a stealth approach, but I don’t think there’s any chance of catching anyone unawares right now.”
Nolan smiled to himself. It was good thinking.
“Copy that, Boss. I guess they’ll hear the knock first time round.”
They reached one of the roadblocks, smoke and flames were still pouring out of the wreckage. Talley was already sending the coordinates of the next target to the control center, and while they watched and waited, the men went around checking for any threats in the vicinity of the roadblock. But there were none, and the only presence was dead bodies, lying in and around the wreckage. A massive explosion made them look to the front, but Talley shouted across. “That’s the gate, let’s go.”
They scrambled back into the trucks and held on grimly as Winters and Moseley stamped on the gas, and they surged forwards. The compound was only a couple of hundred yards away, the main gate and surrounding machine gun bunkers a smoking ruin after the hit from the Paveway. The two trucks drove straight through and into a wide, open yard. There were a half a dozen vehicles parked in front of the main warehouse; a modern, well constructed building, like the headquarters operation of any normal business. At either end of the flat roof was a barricaded machine gun position, which immediately started pouring fire down onto them. It was wild and inaccurate, but when enough bullets are in the air, sooner or later they’re going to hit something, or someone important. Except that in this case, Will Bryce and Dave Eisner were manning the M60s mounted on the trucks, and their shooting was anything but wild and inaccurate. Both Seals fired a continuous burst of heavy, 7.62-millimeter lead at the machine gun positions, which were mounted behind a flimsy screen of sheet metal. The bullets ripped through the screens and decimated the gunners and their crews. The gunfire stopped. Ahead of them was a roller shutter door, the entrance to the warehouse.
“Keep your foot on the gas and go straight though it,” Talley ordered. “Hold tight, there’s going to be a bump.”
Carl Winters rammed his foot down on the gas, and the truck surged forward and smashed through the roller shutter almost as if it was paper. The torn metal was thrown to one side, and Carl brought the truck to a halt inside the building. A group of men with assault rifles gaped at them and started to raise their weapons to shoot, but Dave Eisner opened up on them with the M60. The other Seals joined in, and the Colombians went down under a hail of fire that was impossible to resist. The second truck drew alongside them only seconds later, and already the fight for the warehouse space was almost over.
“Fan out, check the building. We have to find the Salazars,” Talley shouted.
The Seals jumped down and rushed through the doors that would lead to the office area. Nolan went right with half a dozen Seals in support. He kicked open a door and dodged aside as a pistol fired straight at him. The man behind wasn’t so lucky, and he took a bullet in the chest, a hit to his flak vest. It would hurt like hell, but at least he was alive and still fighting. Nolan shot the man with a single round from his SWS, checked the rest of the room, and ran out to check the others. On the other side of the warehouse, in the adjacent office spaces and storerooms, he could hear the sound of firing. He led the men across to join the other group, Talley’s, and was in time to hear the sound of an engine starting. A black Hummer raced across the open warehouse space. They scattered aside as the vehicle sped through the warehouse, almost running down to Seals who were slow to jump. The windows were blacked out, but there was no doubt that inside was at least one of their primary targets. Nolan’s men started to squeeze the triggers to prevent the escape but stopped when Talley shouted across to them.
“Don’t shoot! Leave the Hummer, leave it.”
Nolan glared angrily at his Lieutenant. “What’s the deal, Boss? There has to be at least one of the Salazars in there, maybe both of the brothers.”
“You’re probably right, Chief, but they had a prisoner with them, one of ours.”
&
nbsp; “Jesus Christ, who was it got taken?”
Talley looked downcast. “He separated from my group and went to check inside what he thought was a storeroom. It turned out to be a secret garage for the Hummer, some sort of last-ditch escape plan. They grabbed him and took off. They didn’t even try to fight. It’s as if they sacrificed their own men to distract our attention so they could escape.”
“Yeah, I hear you, but who?”
“Admiral Jacks.”
“Oh, fuck!”
Chapter Six
They stood in the smoking ruins of the Salazar warehouse, surrounded by wreckage, broken-open wooden crates, burning sacks of cocaine and dead bodies. They took stock of the enormity of what they faced. The mission was a bust, despite the huge amount of grief and damage they’d caused to the Salazars’ empire, because they’d missed the main players. The men all had a photo of the two brothers, and they’d quickly established that they weren’t amongst the casualties. So wherever they’d gone, they had the freedom of their enormous resources in money and men to regroup and rebuild. And they had a senior US Navy admiral, Rear Admiral Drew Jacks. No, it wasn’t a bust, Nolan realized. Talley echoed his thoughts.
“It’s a disaster, a total, one hundred percent disaster. They’ll crucify me for this one.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Lt. There’s something fishy about this whole operation. We were supposed to have support from the Colombian Special Forces. Where they hell were they?”
“It won’t make a scrap of difference. I’m the man leading the charge, and it’ll be on my head.”
“The fuck you say,” Will Bryce snorted ominously. “We ain’t finished yet. We haven’t taken any casualties, and we’ve got an awesome heap of firepower and surveillance overhead.” He grinned. “In fact, I’d say we’re just getting started. What we need it to…”
He was interrupted by the sound of engines entering the compound. The unit of the Agrupación de Fuerzas Especiales Antiterroristas Urbanas had arrived. They traveled in the remaining two SUVs with mounted machine guns, one in the lead and the other bringing up the rear. In the center, the bulk of the men were loaded into two larger open backed trucks.
“Don’t they just look so fucking warlike,” Vince Merano commented sourly.
It was true. They bristled with assault rifles and machine guns. The two M60s on the SUVs were traversing from side to side, as if they were traveling though a warzone, which they would have been, ten minutes earlier. Castro jumped down with his scarfaced sergeant. He walked up to Talley, looking around wide-eyed at the damage.
“What exactly happened here, Lieutenant?”
Talley waited long enough to make a point before he replied.
“We did our job, Captain. The job you were ordered to do.”
Castro sighed. “We were not ordered to attack the Salazars. I told you that.”
“Why not? What’s so special about the Salazars that you wouldn’t attack them?”
Castro looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Dammit, you know exactly what I mean. Our orders were to interdict the narco trafficking industry here in Medellin, and that included the Salazars. So why were you so worried about helping us out?”
Castro looked nervously at the Sergeant. “It is not that simple,” he said softly to Talley. “There are politics involved. You do not live here, so you cannot know.”
Talley had both seen the look. “Captain, I’d like a word with you, just you. Would you come over to this office where we can talk without being overheard. Chief, I want you there too.”
The Sergeant looked angry. “This is wrong. You cannot order my Captain to…”
“It is okay,” Castro said to him. “I will speak to them and see what they have to say.”
They walked into the empty office. Castro grimaced at the pool of blood that lay on the floor.
“What is it, Lieutenant Talley? What do you need to talk to me about that you cannot say in front of my men?”
“You know what it is, Castro. The Salazars had protection. They must have known we were coming, and they sacrificed their men to make their escape. If they thought they were fighting local cops or army, they’d have stayed to fight it out. So tell me, what’s going on?”
The Captain sighed. “It is difficult to talk of these things. All I can say is that yes, the Salazars do have protection in high places. We were ordered to stay clear of their operation. My sergeant, Vidal, he is not my regular man. He was assigned to me to look after the interests of the Salazars by the Colombian Ministry of Defense. That is how high their protection goes. If I attack the Salazars, and he reports it back to the Ministry, I will be dismissed. It is possible that I could be killed, along with members of my family.” He had a sudden thought. “Why is the Admiral not here listening to this? Where is he?”
“Taken, by your friends the Salazars,” Nolan replied.
“My, God, an American admiral, how could that be?”
“Because the fucking Colombian Special Forces that were supposed to watch our backs were all on the take,” Nolan hammered back at him.
“So you want them to kill my family?” Castro flared at him. “Is that the price you would pay to fight these people, to have your family killed? Would you want to see your wife and son gunned down in cold blood?”
Nolan lost it. He stepped lightly forward and swung, connected with the Captain’s chin, and saw him go down to the floor.
“You don’t know a thing, Motherfucker!”
Talley grabbed his arm and pulled him off, helping Castro to his feet. “It’s not what you think,” he reassured the man. “Are you okay?”
“Your man hit me. I could have him shot!”
“Yeah, a lot of people have tried to shoot Chief Nolan, but he’s still standing, and they’re pushing up daisies. You couldn’t have known, but his wife was shot by drug traffickers.”
Castro rubbed his chin. “I wish you’d told me that before. He hits hard.”
“Yeah, he does. You’re not going to hold this against him, Captain?”
Castro looked weary. “No. As I said, I wish I’d known before. These bastards, these drug traffickers, they threaten every decent thing we stand for. What are you going to do about your Admiral Jacks?”
“We’re going to get him back and finish the job, my friend. That’s what we do.”
They sat down on the office chairs. “We really need your help, your local knowledge,” Talley continued. “We have to know where they may have taken him.”
“None of this must get out to my sergeant,” he said. “What I told you is true. They will kill my wife and son if the Salazars find out I have helped the Gringos.”
“Surely the government can offer protection?” Talley asked him.
Castro smiled bitterly. “Protection? It is too late. When they found out who was to lead this operation to aid the Americans against the Medellin traffickers, the Salazars kidnapped my wife and son. They are holding them in a hideout known only to a few of their people. It is in a small town outside the city, Copacabana. If I go with you, or am seen to help you in any way, they will kill them.”
Talley nodded. “I’d like to help you, Raoul, but I have mission priorities. Where would the Salazars be, and where would they hold Admiral Jacks?”
The Captain nodded. “Yes, you must do your duty, I understand, and my commiserations for your wife, Mr. Nolan.”
“It’s Chief Nolan, Captain.” Castro nodded his understanding. “And thanks. Maybe we can help each other. Where would these traffickers hold the Admiral? Assuming he isn’t dead,” Nolan replied.
“No, he will not be dead,” Castro said quickly. “Someone of that rank will be very valuable to them as a hostage. But I doubt he will be at Copacabana. They have a processing laboratory out in the jungle. It is very remote, and you understand that this is only their storage and distribution facility. The laboratory is the most likely location. When we were on our way in here, we heard a heli
copter take off nearby. We watched it head to the west, away from Copacabana, and in the direction of their jungle laboratory.”
“Could you lead us there?” Talley asked him, staring at him intently.
But Castro shook his head. “Not while my wife and son are being held, no. I am sorry, but it is too much to risk.”
They heard the sound of renewed firing outside, and Will Bryce ran in.
“We just came under attack. The men are setting up a defensive perimeter, Boss. We need to decide how we’re going to play this. Do we fight them here, or move out and hit them somewhere else?”
“Maintain the perimeter. Chief, you’d better get out there and set up a sniper stand with Vince.” Nolan nodded and ran out. “Captain Castro, are you on our side with this one?”
The Colombian nodded reluctantly. “We will have to deal with this attack, or none of us will come out alive. In any case, these traffickers are like vultures, so it is probably one of the other families. If they think the Salazars have run, they’ll be trying to make a play for their stock of cocaine. Yes, we’ll fight, but afterwards, I cannot help you against the Salazars.”
“Until your family is safe?”
“Until they are safe, yes.”
“Then we’ll see what we can do. But for now, let’s go knock down some of these narcos.”
They ran into the main warehouse that had emptied of almost all of the men. The Seals had deployed their trucks outside the building to act as defensive machine gun posts. Castro noticed that his two trucks were stationary with their crews sheltering behind them from any incoming gunfire. He ran over to them.
“You, get these vehicles moving. Get out there and start shooting!”
One of the men was Sergeant Vidal. “But Captain, the Salazars…”
“It is not the Salazars,” Castro snapped. “It will be one of the other families trying to steal their product. I don’t care who it is, just get out there and stop them.”
