Ingram blanched. “They’re loaded with C4. They could be flown into your car while you’re traveling down the freeway and…” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Gone. In an instant.”
“I have to stop doing this.” Jameson pushed the file away and squeezed his eyes shut. “Did you know that the Russians deployed a new satellite last month?” He opened his eyes and leveled his gaze on Ingram. “It can create what they are calling an ‘extremely focused laser’ capable of cutting a vehicle in half before it has to be recharged.”
“You’re kidding.”
Jameson shook his head. “They wouldn’t need a sniper. You could be sitting in your office and…” He stopped and held his hands up. “It truly amazes me how far technology can leap ahead in such narrow windows of time. It also amazes me how creative men are in trying to kill each other.”
Ingram chuckled. “Well, that kind of is our business.”
“No, Robert. Our business is espionage.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But I fear that the days of having assets in the streets of foreign nations have come to an end. No, now we rely almost entirely on microchips and sensors and cameras and…” He trailed off. “I am just an old dog playing a young dog’s game.”
Ingram studied him for a moment. “You’re not thinking of retiring?”
Jameson sighed as he came to his feet. “No, Robert. But I think it’s time that this old dog learns some new tricks.”
Near Chapala, Mexico
* * *
“It has been confirmed, señor” The federale major stood at attention as he spoke. “I have contacts in other commands. The Sinaloa cartel has bought and paid for them.” He sighed and lowered his voice, “They are preparing for war.”
Raul shuddered and glanced back at the villa. “I must speak to el jefe. He will know how to handle this.”
“You should inform him that they are preparing now. It could be any day. He should seriously consider moving to another location.”
Raul stiffened and clenched his jaw. “I have tried, Major. Since you first brought us news of this, I have begged him.” He shook his head. “He is insistent.”
“Because of the gringos?”
“Si. He is determined to face them.” Raul turned and paced slowly. “I tell him, let the federales face them. Let the militias face them. Let our own people…” He sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “He refuses to leave.”
The major glanced toward the hacienda then turned back to Raul. “Perhaps you should…motivate him?”
“You think I have not tried?”
The major stiffened. “Perhaps you should consider saving him from himself.” He lowered his voice and practically whispered, “A dead general cannot lead his men. There is no shame in strategic retreat when facing obviously superior forces.”
Raul scoffed. “If only it were that simple.” He glanced up at the office window then turned his back to it again. “Will you receive any notice before the attack?”
The major shook his head. “The federales are splintered. Those who are bought must remain loyal to their employer.” He swallowed hard. “Just as we would not alert them to his leaving, they will not alert us to their attack.”
“But you are certain of their weaponry?”
The major shrugged. “They have much at their disposal. Heavy equipment is harder to move over distance. The larger weapons aren’t precise. The men…you would have to transport.” He sighed as he nodded. “If it were me, I would use a UAV. They can rearm it once it returns and claim that it never left. Only a handful of the men would need to be involved, so, fewer people to pay off for their silence.”
Raul groaned as his stomach fell. “I will try again, but I fear this will be a waste of time.”
24
Near Chapala, Mexico
* * *
“Oh shit,” Diego grumbled as the truck began to slow. He pressed a hand to his ear and his face twisted. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Bridger growled.
“Federales.” He glanced through a gap in the canvas cover of the bed and keyed his coms. “Tell them we are transporting electronics and specialist contractors for Capitain de la Cruz.”
“The fuck is going on, Diego?” Bridger began to stand, leveling his weapon. “If you’re trying to flip on us, you’ll be the first casualty.”
“Sh-sh-sh!” Diego held a finger up and listened. “We have a fifty-fifty chance here, so be quiet.”
Bridger narrowed his gaze at the man. “How so?”
Diego groaned quietly then turned to him. “Captain de la Cruz is the local magistrate…of sorts. If these federales are loyal to him, then we will be fine. If they are not…” he trailed off.
“Shit.” Lisa stood and slid off her molle vest. She snapped her fingers at Laughlin. “Drop your gear. You’re with me.”
Diego’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”
“You said electronics and contractors. He and I are the contractors.” She quickly made her way to the rear of the truck bed and pointed to the opposite side for Laughlin to sit. She glanced to Bridger, “If I can’t pull this off or it goes sideways…”
He nodded. “Then we’ll unfuck the situation.” He motioned to the others and they ducked behind the plastic crates, hiding in the shadows.
Laughlin no sooner sat across from her when the flap was unceremoniously pulled open. Lisa covered her eyes from the sun and squinted, smiling at the young soldier. “Are we here already? Are you Captain de la Cruz?” she asked in fluent Spanish.
The young soldier eyed her suspiciously then looked to Laughlin. He asked something in Spanish and Lisa laughed. “He’s too stupid to speak anything but English. He’s a foreign technician. He only fixes things.” She gave him her best smile and took a deep breath, slowly pushing her breasts forward as the young man considered what to do.
She watched as he stepped back and for a moment she feared that things were about to get loud and bloody. He reached for his radio and mumbled something, his eyes fixed on her chest. A moment later the flap fell back into place and the truck bounced forward again.
Laughlin sighed as his heart began to beat again. “Too stupid, eh?”
She raised a brow at him. “You really think you could have talked our way out of that?”
He stood and began to make his way forward. “Your tits is what saved us.”
“Be glad they did.” She reached for her molle vest and Diego caught her eye.
“That was a very dangerous thing to do.”
She scoffed as she buckled the vest into place and reattached the sling to her carbine. “Danger is what we do, Diego. Surely you haven’t forgotten.”
He fell back onto his seat and shook his head. “It has been too many years, señorita.” He glanced to Bridger and grinned. “What can I say? I went legit.”
“How much farther?” Bridger asked.
Diego glanced through the gap in the flap again and looked at the mountain ridge. “We are close.” He closed the flap and sat back. “They have federales set up about four or five kilometers from the villa in all directions. There are a lot of men surrounding the hacienda, though. Word is that he killed a local militia leader and contracted the other two to provide protection.”
DJ felt his blood run cold. “How many are we talking about?”
Diego shook his head as he shrugged. “I cannot be certain, but I would expect at least a hundred men. And that’s not counting the federales.”
Laughlin groaned. “Fucking great.”
Mauk scoffed. “Slippy has a surprise for them, dontcha, Slip?”
Gregg nodded, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. “I’m trying not to throw up, thank you.”
“You seasick, Slip?” DJ teased.
“It’s the heat, you prick.” He cracked an eye open and glared at DJ. “I’ll adjust.”
DJ grinned at him. “Come on, Slip. You haven’t gone soft have you?” He slapped at the man’s knee.
“Surely you can go from ice and snow to a hunnerd degrees in the same day, can’t you?”
Bridger smiled to himself. “Mr. Four Seasons there would prefer an air conditioned suite at the Hilton.”
“As long as it has Wi-Fi,” Gregg deadpanned.
Laughlin leaned toward him. “You haven’t drunk any of the water since we’ve been here, have you?”
“Fuck off, Laughlin.” Gregg sat up and opened his eyes. “If you have to know, I’m sweatin’ the idea of having to interface forty drones at the same time.” He glanced at Bridger then to Mauk. “The only way this mission ends in success is if I can terminate the militia outside the house using drones and Lurch here as a sniper. That’s a pretty tall fucking order if you ask me.”
The truck took an unusually large bump then bounced hard. Diego broke into a toothy grin. “Aha! We’re almost there!”
Bridger caught himself before he bounced into the floor of the bed and glared at him. “A little warning would be nice.”
Diego grinned broader. “Be careful, amigo. Rough road ahead.”
Langley Virginia
* * *
“They’re planning a dawn attack,” Jameson said quietly as he hung up his phone. He glanced at his watch then gave Ingram a sad smile. “We can reconvene at the war room just prior, if you prefer.”
Ingram glanced at his own watch and groaned. “It’s not like I could sleep if I went home.”
Jameson stood and picked up his jacket. “Well, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
“I’ll use the hospitality room.” He stood and stretched. “How are you holding up?”
Jameson gave him a surprised look. “Remarkably. Why would you ask?”
He shrugged slightly. “It’s just that you’ve hired a Colombian drug cartel to wage war on another cartel, both of which are now based out of Mexico, using Mexican military assets, all to protect a future asset that you can’t even be certain will work for you when the time comes.” He smirked at the older man. “Did I miss anything?”
“You forgot the part where I offered the drug cartel US military weaponry in exchange for their part in this fiasco.”
“Ah, yes.” He nodded. “The whole ‘double cross that will likely get you killed’ aspect. I had forgotten to mention that.”
“We’ll see what happens.” Jameson pulled the door to his office shut. “I believe it’s your turn to buy.”
Ingram’s face twisted. “No, I got drinks last time.”
“Supper, Robert. I’m craving a rare steak.”
Ingram’s face fell as he entered the elevator. “Last time you bought it was lunch. I believe soup and salad…but now that it’s my turn you want a steak?”
“Porterhouse, I’m thinking.” He gave the younger man a slight smile. “Rare and bloody.”
Ingram smiled back. “Final meal, William?”
“You can call it what you like, Robert. I believe Ruth’s Chris sounds good.”
Near Chapala, Mexico
* * *
“Señor, please!” Raul pleaded.
El jefe held a hand up to silence him. “I am not without resources, Raul.” He sighed heavily as he reached for his phone. “I hate to do this, but if things are as bad as your major would have you believe, then perhaps it is time to call in a marker.”
Raul practically fell into the wicker chair opposite him. “What are you doing?”
“Activating an asset I’ve had in place for some time.” He pressed the phone to his ear and held a finger up to silence his assistant. He clenched his jaw as the phone rang. “General Mendoza, I believe it is time to repay that favor you owe me.”
The federale officer grimaced when he heard the voice on the other end of the line. “I thought you might be calling me.”
“And you didn’t think to reach out to me first? I’m wounded, General,” he replied mockingly.
The officer gave himself a moment to think of the most correct reply. “As of now, all I hear are rumors. I would hate to waste your favor, or your most valuable time over unsubstantiated talk.”
El jefe scoffed. “Somehow, I doubt that it is all unsubstantiated.” He reached for the humidor and chose to bite the end off of his cigar. “So tell me, General…” He paused to light the stogie. “What information might you have heard that would interest me?”
“I am hearing rumors only, mind you…” He took a deep cleansing breath. “But I am hearing that the Sinaloas are hiring people out from under me at an alarming rate.”
“Hmm. This is interesting.” He sat forward and pressed his elbows to the desk. “They are hiring your people, and yet you cannot verify this?”
The general groaned. “Fantasma, you know that people working for the cartels do not talk. Especially to their commanding officers.”
“And especially if they intend to use military weapons against a civilian, yes?”
The general winced and ground his teeth together. “Correct.” He sat back in his chair and squeezed his eyes shut. “As I said, I am only hearing rumors. If I hear anything solid, I will let you know.”
“Tell me something, General.” El jefe blew out a long stream of blue gray smoke. “The Sinaloas didn’t get to you, too…did they?”
The general scoffed with dismay and sat bolt upright. “I am not for sale, señor!”
El jefe laughed as he leaned back in his chair. “Of course not, General. I never meant to imply that you were for sale.” He set his cigar down as his features hardened. “But you are compromised, are you not?”
The general huffed and ground his teeth again. “I am in your debt, this is true.”
“And we’d like to see that debt repaid, agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Then you will alert me once your men decide to act on this…’rumor,’ yes?”
The general nodded even though it couldn’t be seen. “Of course, señor.”
“Thank you, General. As a tax paying citizen and fervent supporter of the federales, I appreciate your cooperation in this matter.”
“Of course.” Mendoza hung up his phone and stood from behind his desk. He looked to the officers sitting across from him. “El Fantasma knows what you are up to. He may not know exactly who is involved, but he knows that you plan to attack on behalf of the Sinaloas.”
25
Near Chapala, Mexico
* * *
Gregg Soares worked feverishly at his station, setting up computers, transceivers and miniature satellite dishes. “The foliage around here is so fucking thick,” he muttered.
Mauk patted at his BDU blouse pockets. “I had some agent orange somewhere.” He gave Slippy a sad face and a shrug. “I must have left it in my other uniform.”
“For the love of…” Slippy groaned. “Will you please go somewhere away from me and bother somebody else.”
“Aww, come on, Slip. Me and you is gonna be set up together in a sniper’s nest. Just the two of us.” He slipped a pickled egg into his mouth and chewed it slowly. “I’m loading up on protein in case we’re there for a long…LONG…time.” He gave Slippy an evil grin. “I’d kill for a beer to wash this down with.”
Slippy growled low in his throat and turned back to his work. “For somebody who is relying on my expertise to make sure the killer hornet drone doesn’t accidentally target him, you sure are going out of your way to piss me off.”
Mauk smiled again as he popped another egg into his mouth. “I trust your professionalism.” He chuckled as he trod away.
“How’s it coming?” Bridger asked as he made a slow approach.
“Any chance you could replace Mauk with DJ? Or Lisa?” He gave him a desperate look. “At this point I’d take Laughlin.”
Bridger’s brows knit in confusion. “What’s the hangup?”
“Mauk is loading up on pickled eggs and beer. He thinks we’re going to feather a nest together.” He raised a brow at him. “I WILL go full out Slippyfist on his ass if he thinks—”
�
��Relax, Slip.” Bridger patted his shoulder. “Mauk is setting up below you. I want you on the ridge for the widest possible field of view.”
Slippy paused and set down his tools. “You do understand that these drones only have about thirty minutes of flight time. If the tangos realize what’s going on and try to break for it, they won’t have the reserve to back you up inside.”
“I know.” Bridger looked past him as Diego inspected one of the drones. “If they try to run, break off a handful and send them to us. We’ll use them as entry assists while the others track and destroy.”
Slippy sighed. “Copy that.” He turned back to his screens and slowly shook his head. “You know that rushing this isn’t the smartest, right? We should do a bit of recon first and—”
“Diego has a man doing just that.”
Slippy turned and stared at him wide eyed. “You trust Diego now? I thought you were just telling him what he wanted to hear in order to taxi our asses from the airfield.”
Bridger crossed his arms and studied his old third-world asset. He shook his head slowly. “So far he’s given me no reason to doubt him.”
Slippy set his screwdriver down gently and turned to face him. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft.”
Bridger scoffed. “Not hardly.” He pulled the chair out and sat beside him, lowering his voice. “After Diego hung us out to dry, I intended to punch his time card for him.” He leaned back and chewed at his inner cheek. “I heard through the grapevine that the Policía Nacional de Colombia had grabbed him. Since he was our internal CI, they thought that he was truly part of the cartel and…” He trailed off, his mind taking him to dark places.
Slippy stood slowly from his chair. “Wait, so…THE Colombian Nationals tagged and bagged him and he…”
“Didn’t sell us out. He maintained his cover.” Bridger sighed as he continued to stare at the man on the other side of the camp.
Burning Bridges Page 16
