Matt’s eyes widened. “Airport? This is an airport?” He snorted. “I thought it was some rancher’s back forty.”
The kid’s face fell and he glanced over his shoulder toward town. He turned back to Matt and gave him a lopsided grin. “I guess I could walk. It’s only a few miles.”
“Get in.” Matt glared toward the pilot still sitting behind the controls of the plane. “You’ll need to come back and take him to a hotel.”
“Uh, we don’t really do the whole taxi thing either.”
Matt turned and gave him a stern stare. “It’s a long walk back.”
The kid swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’d love to give him a ride. It’s not that far. I can be back in a matter of minutes.”
Matt twisted the key and started the Jeep. “That a boy. I knew there was a brain inside there somewhere.”
11
Southeastern Oklahoma
* * *
Bridger held his 10MM at the ready, his head bobbing and weaving slightly behind one of the larger bullet holes so that he could take in as much of the scene outside. “They must be in the trees.”
“Which ones?” Gregg snorted. “The whole world is trees out there.”
“They took out the Tahoe.” Lisa added as she glanced through the shattered glass. “Both tires on the passenger side are flat.”
DJ clung to his pistol and slowly eased his head higher to peer over the window sill. “And my truck is in town.”
“Where’d you leave the rental truck that the other kill team had?” Bridger asked quietly.
DJ sighed. “Near the entrance to the park.” He glanced at him and shrugged. “If we can get out of here without getting dead, it’s only a thirty minute hike.”
“I can’t see Mauk’s truck.” Bridger said more to himself. “I’d bet money they disabled it as well.”
“Fuckers. I just got it paid for.” Mauk grunted and ripped another floor board from the strongbacks. “Almost there.”
Bridger rolled across the broken glass and peered into the crawlspace. “Is there enough room for us to crawl out?”
Mauk nodded. “If we stay low.” He turned and gave Bridger a knowing look. “Odds are they have all four sides covered.”
Bridger groaned. “We could wait until nightfall.”
“And pray they don’t have night vision?” Mauk gripped another board and tugged, pulling the rusty nails from the ancient wood. “We’re out when you’re ready boss.”
“I don’t get why they don’t just burn us out.” DJ muttered.
“Probably to keep as low profile as possible.” Bridger replied. “Think about it. You’re in a foreign country in an otherwise deserted state park surrounded by forest.” He raised a brow. “Would you really want every fire team in the state converging on your kill zone?”
“I don’t think I’d care if my target was toast,” DJ joked. He shot Bridger a sly grin. “Besides, trees are overrated.”
“Says the man who lives in a swamp,” Gregg muttered. “All of our coms are gone. I got zilch. No internet, no cell, no nothing.”
“Probably have a military grade jammer out there.” DJ replied, his eyes still scanning the tree line. “I’ve got nothing.”
Bridger squatted over the opening and peered into the cobwebbed darkness. “Something tells me that this is stupidity at its best.” He braced his hands on either side and slid down into the cabin’s crawlspace. He held his hand up and snapped his fingers.
Gregg slid a Sig 552 toward him. “The lion’s share of our weapons are still in the other cabins.”
Bridger growled low in his chest and chambered a fresh round. “I know. We’ll just have to make do with what’s available. If we survive this one, we muster up and hit them back. Hard.”
Gregg gave him a lopsided smile. “Please tell me we’re bringing the rest of the team in on this.”
Bridger shook his head. “Not if we can help it. This ain’t their fight.”
The group watched his head disappear into the abyss then turned their attention back to the kill zone outside. “It’s too quiet for my taste. Why aren’t they closing ranks and finishing the job?” DJ wiped at the back of his neck. “This don’t feel right.”
Mauk slid in next to him and checked the rounds in his magazine. “My bet would be that they’re waiting for backup.” He glanced at his watch then shook his head. “If they’re waiting until sundown, this is gonna be a helluva long wait.”
Bridger appeared at the hole again. “There’s an access, but it’s so small—I don’t think Lisa could squeeze through it.” He pulled himself back up out of the hole and set the rifle at his feet. “The best we could hope for would be to chisel out some of the mortar and nest down there. Use the stone as cover.”
Mauk’s shoulders slumped. “Talk about minimizing your angle of attack.”
Bridger swiped at his pants, removing the moist soil. “We’re pinned down.” He glanced at Gregg. “Unless we get coms back, we’re sitting ducks.”
DJ stood slowly and shook his head. “I’ll draw their fire, Top.”
“Like hell!” Bridger stood and placed a firm hand on his chest, holding him. “We know there are shooters out the front and logic dictates that there’s at least one in back.”
DJ nodded. “And if I make a break for it, I draw their fire. You step out and remove the shooters before they can get a bead on me.” He placed a gentle hand on Bridger’s grip and pulled him away. “If they decide to burn us out, we’re all dead. If they do a slow approach and lay down fire as they come, there’s no defending that from inside here.” He lowered his voice and leaned close. “You know this is the best move we have.”
Bridger shook his head. “They’re not advancing and nobody is shooting. I think our best bet is to lay low and—”
“And what? Wait for them to get more shooters?” DJ shook his head. “They’re waiting for a reason. Either backup or…” He shrugged. “Whatever their reason for waiting is, I say we take that option off of the table for them.”
“We can’t know how strong they are.” Bridger pointed to the front door. “There could be a dozen shooters out there.”
“Or one,” DJ stated flatly. “I only heard one shooter earlier. Sounded a lot like an Uzi to me.”
“There were too many rounds for one Uzi,” Lisa added.
DJ shook his head. “Not with an extended mag and controlled bursts.” He sighed heavily and gave her a solemn look. “I don’t want to end up dead; trust me on that. There’s far too much bourbon in the world for me to quit now.”
“And too many women,” Gregg added absently. “Don’t forget the women.” He glanced to Lisa and flustered. “Present company excluded.”
DJ gripped Bridger’s shoulder. “Top, I’m smaller than you and probably a damned sight faster.” He squeezed the larger man’s shoulder. “Just be ready to return fire. I’ll do my best to use the larger trees as cover.”
Mauk stepped closer and nodded. “He’s right. We have to distract the shooter’s attention. If nothing else, it will give us an idea of their strength.”
Bridger groaned. “I hate it when you do shit like this.”
“Like what?”
He glared at DJ. “Make sense. Especially when it puts your skinny ass at risk.”
DJ smirked. “I got a nice ass.” He winked at him. “You’ll get a good view of it as I’m hauling it through them woods.”
Luis hung up the phone then motioned to Hector, who adjusted the jammer back to full spectrum. He tucked his satellite phone into his jacket pocket then nodded to Fernando. “Jefe says we sit tight. He has sent a team from Houston.”
Fernando rolled his eyes then settled in against the rock outcropping he was using for cover. “Of course. Let the outsiders take the credit.”
Luis gave him a curious look, unable to hear his mutterings. “They won’t be long.”
Fernando had to set his weapon down and clench his fists, flexing his muscles to burn off some of his anger. “T
his is not right, Luis.”
Luis stayed crouched and made his way closer to Fernando. “What are you saying?”
“I said that this is not right.” Fernando gave him a hateful stare. “If these are the people who killed Teresa, then they are the same people who destroyed our crops, bombed the villages, and shot down our planes.” He shook his head. “My entire familia worked for Murillo then. Most of them were killed during these attacks.”
Luis moved closer and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We all lost somebody in those attacks. That is why el jefe has sent us here.”
“We should be the ones to destroy these cabrónes, not another team.”
Luis gave him that soft smile again. “They are coming to provide support.” He nodded to Fernando. “Trust me. It will be your knives that remove their hearts.”
Fernando squeezed his eyes shut tightly and forced a deep breath to try to calm himself. With a quick nod he turned his attention back to the cabin. “Then let them hurry. My blades are thirsty.”
“Son of a…” Matt pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and slapped the small black box. “Where’d they go?”
He had been using the box to track the burner phones that had called the clearinghouse. The GPS scanner could provide real time locations of those phones to within twenty-five feet, regardless of whether the devices were turned on or not.
“Come on you Mickey Mouse piece of shit!” He slapped the box again and groaned when the unit went dark. “Great.”
He pulled his cell phone from his jacket and unlocked it. He stared at the signal meter, and for a moment, considered driving out of the wooded forest to find a signal. It was when he realized that even the satellite functions of the phone were down that he didn’t just enter a dead zone.
Somebody was using a jammer.
Matt sat back and stared through the windshield of the Jeep. There were carved wooden signs scattered about the narrow paved road that pointed toward the different areas of the park. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the last known position on the screen before it went black.
He imagined the device in his hands and the light blue dots in relation to where he was currently idling in the Jeep Wrangler. He opened his eyes and looked ahead and to his left.
He removed his foot from the brake and slowly drove through the wooded park. As he rounded a gentle curve he saw a sign with an arrow that read, “CAMPING/CABINS.”
Matt smiled to himself.
“I will assume that they’re not in tents at this time of year…” He turned the Jeep again toward the next sign that read “CABINS.”
He slowed the Jeep as the first rustic looking cabin came into view. He rolled the window down and peered through the woods. There were no vehicles parked nearby. The leaves and litter around the front entrance suggested that the place was empty. He continued driving and slowed again as he came around the next bend. He saw a black Mercedes parked on the side of the road and his gaze narrowed.
“Curious.”
He stared out of the open window at the next cabin and noted the same state as the last one. The pine needles and brown oak leaves scattered near the entrance suggested that nobody was occupying the place.
He stared ahead and spotted the roof of a black SUV parked in front of a cabin close to the road just around the next bend. He released the brake and slowly rolled forward. “Bridger, that had better be you.”
12
Southeastern Oklahoma
* * *
Bridger double checked the magazine in his Sig 552 then gently pulled the curtain back on the rear window. “Have you mapped your path?”
DJ nodded, shaking his arms and hands while high stepping in place. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” He continued to loosen up then gave Bridger a crooked grin. “I run away from the bullets.”
Bridger clapped his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
He braced himself near the rear exit and gripped the door knob. “I’m only giving you a two count before I step out and start shooting. That should give them a chance to recover from the initial shock of a runner and time to react. There’s liable to be a lot of hot lead in the air before I can get a bead on their locations.”
DJ nodded, his face a stone mask as he huffed air, loading his body on the much needed oxygen for the sprint. “Just do your best.”
Gregg appeared on the opposite side of the door. “Remember, if you find yourself running toward the shooters, angle off so we don’t accidentally shoot you in the back.”
“You’re still not funny, Slippy.” DJ shook his head slightly, trying to get back into the zone. The air in the room thickened as he mentally prepared.
He stared at the door, his mind seeing past it and to the position of possible cover that he’d memorized. He had a half dozen large tree trunks that could be used for cover before he’d come to the communal fire pit, ringed with large native stone. From the angle he had at the kitchen sink, the fire pit should be deep enough for him to lay flat and be safe. Of course, if Bridger and Slippy didn’t do their jobs, he’d be just as pinned down as the rest of the team.
Except he’d be in the open. And in the cold.
He sniffed hard and blew his breath out of his mouth in quick pants. With a quick nod of his head he announced, “Do it.”
DJ started his sprint towards the door before Bridger got it opened. The timing was nearly perfect as the door squeaked open just as his nimble form shot from the cabin and began to dart between trees.
Luis motioned to Fernando and shook his head. “Somebody approaches.”
The trio sat silently as the bright blue Jeep Wrangler slowly cruised through the paved park roads. They watched the bright colored Jeep pause at the first cabin then lost it in the trees, flashes of color showing that the driver was taking his time. They saw the vehicle slow and stop at the next cabin then pull away once more.
“They are looking for something,” Luis whispered. He reached out slowly and squeezed Fernando’s arm. “We do nothing to announce ourselves.” His stern stare told the other man that it was el jefe’s order.
They watched as the driver slowed near their rental car, then continued. Luis could see the driver’s head through the windshield and he seemed very interested in the black SUV parked in front of the cabin they stalked.
“Damn it,” Luis swore then pulled away from Fernando. He turned quickly and pointed at him. “Do nothing!”
He scrambled through the brush until he made eye contact with Hector. With a quick bird whistle he got his attention then shook his head. The message was clear. “Stand down.”
The trio watched as the bright blue Jeep slowed then pulled off of the road near the short driveway of the old cabin. A man stepped out of the Jeep and looked around quickly. He checked something that he held in his hand then tossed it into the vehicle.
Luis swore under his breath again as the man stepped toward the cabin. For a brief moment he considered that the man may have been a player when these cabrónes were destroying everything that the cartel had built. Could he have been the one responsible for Teresa’s death?
The man pulled his sunglasses off and slowly approached the cabin again. Luis watched him reach into his overcoat and retrieve a pistol. Whoever he was, if he intended to rob them of their righteous kill, he was sadly mistaken.
Luis was about to stand and bark at the man when Hector pointed frantically. “They are running!”
Luis’ head snapped around and, for a brief moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. He glanced back and barely caught a glimpse of the man as he dove behind the ruined black SUV.
“Dammit.” He spun and yelled to Hector, “Kill them!”
Fernando smiled as he stood from behind the rock outcropping and leveled his weapon. “To HELL with you!”
Bridger gave DJ a two count then fought the urge to twist out into the daylight. No shots were fired as the man sprinted through the trees. He watched DJ leap over a short stump then slide towards the f
ire pit and roll into it as though he were sliding into second base.
He looked to Gregg, who could only shrug. Both men scanned the narrow angles on either side of the door and wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or excited that there was no gunfire. He glanced out at the fire pit and watched as DJ’s head popped up, confusion evident as he looked around.
Bridger quickly waved him on. “Go! Keep running!”
He could just make out a yell from the right and he ducked low, scanning the trees as DJ put more distance between himself and the shooters.
When the first rounds were fired, Bridger dove out of the door and rolled, his eyes forced wide as he looked for any sign of the shooter. He continued his roll and came up on one knee, his barrel leveled at a man with a thick mustache and a camel hair coat firing wildly in DJ’s direction.
Bridger brought the red dot scope to bear and fired three rounds. Two to the chest and one to the head. The pink mist that surrounded the shooter before he fell verified the shots were good.
He glanced to his left and saw Gregg lying prone on the ground. His weapon barked three times and he heard a distinct curse. “Dammit!”
Bridger continued to scan the area on the east side of the cabin as Gregg scrambled to his feet and slammed hard into the trunk of an overgrown pine. “I missed.”
Bridger eased back toward the cabin as Gregg spun to either side of the tree, peppering the area where the other shooter was. Pieces of tree bark exploded on either side of him as he rolled right, then left, doing his best to keep the shooter occupied.
Bridger slid along the back edge of the cabin and chanced a quick glance in the direction of the shooter. He saw a man in a black leather jacket popping up and firing from behind a rock outcrop. He nodded to Gregg then readied himself. As Gregg rolled to the opposite side of the tree, he presented a slight, but visible target. Bridger rolled around the edge of the cabin and leveled his Sig.
Burning Bridges Page 8
