“Tell me you have a medic.”
Dillis turned and waved his men forward. “How are your people doing after this?”
“I’m down one.” Bridger waved him forward and into the house. He marched through the house and into the tunnel access in the rear bedroom. “A female operator is with Mario Gomez, the head of the Murillo cartel.”
Commander Dillis gave him a confused stare. “The Murillo cartel? The head of the Murillo cartel is here? Personally? On United States soil?”
Bridger stopped and raised a brow at him. “Did I stutter?”
“No, I’m just shocked that ‘El Fantasma’ would dare crawl out of his hole, much less leave the safety of Mexico.”
“Well he did and he’s here.” Bobby pointed to the map on the wall. “They’re in this area. Cut off from us by a cave-in.”
Dillis glanced at the solid sandstone walls. “Cave-in?”
Bobby shrugged. “Explosives.” He tapped the map. “I need to get access to this area.” He turned to face Dillis and crossed his arms. “Tell me you have a way to expedite that.”
Dillis whistled low and studied the crude map. “How thick is the ceiling?”
“Minimum four feet.”
Dillis sighed. “Maximum?”
“Seven. It’s hard to tell exactly, with the topography above.”
“I see.” He heaved a sigh and glanced back towards the main house. “My best guess for a rapid descent would be a linear shaped charge. But without knowing exactly where they are inside…”
“Understood.” Bobby turned to Mauk. “Stand by outside the cave-in.”
“What are you going to do?”
Bridger grabbed a handful of magazines and stuffed them back into his vest. “I’m going to war.”
Langley Virginia
* * *
“No, no, no, NO!” Jameson slammed his fist down on the desk and stared at the screen. “I specifically instructed them NOT to make contact!”
Robert Ingram pushed open the office door. “Bad time?”
Jameson rolled his eyes and fell back into his chair. “Is there ever a good time with you, Robert?”
“You wound me, William.” He chuckled as he pulled the chair out and sat. “And here I thought we were so close.”
“What do you want, Robert? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check on you. From the sound of things, your blood pressure might be on the rise.”
Jameson held a hand up to stop him. “Cut the bullshit, Robert. What do you want?”
Ingram sat up and tugged at his lapels. “I happen to be walking by the war room and noticed a particular property up on the big screen. I recognized it as Bridger’s old place and…” he trailed off.
“Go on,” Jameson deadpanned.
“Well, I saw the activity and realized, those were tactical teams closing on the property.” He grinned at him. “What a marvelous idea that was to activate them.”
“Quit gloating.”
“Anyway, I remembered what the property looked like when we were finished with it the last time.” He tsk’d at him. “So I knew that if Bridger was actually present, there’d be no way you could cover the presence of a tactical team.”
“What is your point, Robert?” He was clearly losing his patience.
He crossed his legs and shot him a beaming smile. “I have your backstory. A plausible reason for your tactical team to give Bridger that he’d buy.”
He gave him a droll look. “And what would that be?”
Ingram smiled broader. “That will cost you.” He slowly came to his feet and poured a bourbon. “I’m thinking a steak dinner…”
Near Quitman, TX
* * *
Bridger attached the line to his harness then nodded to the explosives tech. “Ready.”
“Going live,” he announced. “Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!”
The ground erupted, spraying topsoil, wood and grass in all directions. The spray was still airborne when Bridger launched from behind the truck and ran the ten meters, leaping into the air and rappelling into the darkness below.
He barely had time to tighten his grip on the rope clamp before his feet hit the floor of the tunnel below and he rolled, snatching his carbine and making a sweep of the area.
In the periphery of his vision he saw Lisa pinned beneath rocks, her hand blocking her face from the blast and the debris. He sidestepped and panned his rifle in the other direction.
Mario lay on the ground, a gold plated AK47 beside him. “Clear!” he shouted above. He stepped forward and kicked the golden rifle away, his barrel still covering the man on the ground. “Sitrep!” he shouted.
“I’m okay, I think,” Lisa coughed as she spoke. “My legs are pinned.”
Bridger saw shadows from above and stepped aside, allowing the members of Dillis’ team to rappel into the hole. “She needs a medic.”
One of the men approached her and the other slid in next to Bridger. He grabbed Mario’s hands and cuffed them behind his back. “Is he alive?”
Bridger shrugged. “I didn’t kill him.” He relaxed his stance and turned to Lisa. “What happened?”
She squinted in the daylight shining through and tried to look him in the eye. “I’m not sure.” The man assisting her tugged at her leg and she winced once it was free. “He kept saying that it was time for me to die. That Bravo would come after him once I was dead…”
“And?”
“Then the ceiling exploded and you dropped in like an avenging angel.” She tugged her other leg free and slowly came to her feet, her stance wobbly.
“He was alive before that?”
She nodded. “He kept talking in circles, saying how it was time. He was ready to meet her again. He was ready to kill us all. He was…” She looked at him and sighed. “I think he was losing it.”
“He must have lost his damned mind if he thought he could take us on and survive.”
She hobbled toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s just it. I don’t think he wanted to survive.” She glanced at Mario’s still form then back to Bridger. “He was…”
“What?” Bridger lowered his rifle.
She wiped a tear from her cheek. “He loved her.”
Bridger gave her a confused look. “I don’t understand.”
She gave him a sad smile. “I don’t think any of us truly do.”
The uniformed man strapped a harness to her then gave the men above a thumbs-up. She began to rise into the air, and Bridger watched her disappear into the light.
Quitman, TX
* * *
“So, officially, you were tracking the Murillo cartel movements and that brought you here?” Bridger asked, unsure that he believed the story.
Commander Dillis nodded. “There was a dust up in Mexico the other day. Apparently somebody commandeered a tactical drone and attacked the Murillo compound outside of Chapala.” He shifted in his seat and gave Bridger a knowing look. “We tracked a small aircraft to Houston and from there to Dallas.” He crossed his arms and locked eyes with Bobby. “And from Dallas…to your house. Then to here. I don’t suppose you could tell me why that is?”
Bobby pursed his lips and shook his head. “I already told you my ties to Gomez.”
“Right.” Dillis leaned forward and flipped through his notes. “He was part of a clandestine group that infiltrated the Murillo cartel back in the 90s”
Bobby nodded. “The fella with the hole in his leg and the crushed chest can tell you all about it once he gets out of surgery.” He raised a brow at him. “Are we done now?”
Dillis nodded slowly. “Don’t leave the country. And if we call, make sure you actually pick up the phone.”
Bridger nodded slightly and came to his feet. “I’d say that it’s been a pleasure, but…”
“Bobby Bridger.”
He turned and saw Scott Evans entering the room. “Scott.” Bobby held his
hand out to greet the man and Sheriff Evans slapped a handcuff on his wrist.
“Don’t resist, Bobby.” Scott gave him a look that he couldn’t read. He pulled his arm behind his back and gripped his other wrist, snapping the other cuff into place. “You know the drill.” He turned him towards the door. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law.”
Dillis couldn’t hide the smile as Sheriff Evans walked him out of the office and to his patrol car. He stood at the window and muttered, “Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you that the law wants to talk to you.” He snapped his fingers. “Damn my memory.”
44
Wood County Sheriff’s Office
* * *
“Have a seat.” Sheriff Scott Evans pointed to the chair and set his coffee cup down on the table. Bobby pulled the metal chair out and sat in it slowly, rubbing his wrists where the handcuffs had rubbed his flesh raw. He took in the video camera mounted near the ceiling.
“You acknowledge that you’re here of your own volition, correct?”
“Is this really necessary Scott? You know—”
“That was a yes or no question.” Scott slapped the folder on the table and stared at Bobby stoically.
I could have sworn you dragged me here in handcuffs, Scott, but what the hell? I’ll play along. He thought to himself.
Bridger inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “Yes, I acknowledge that I came in of my own volition.” He returned the stare and watched as Scott sat down across from him. He noted that he didn’t leave his sidearm outside of the interrogation room and wasn’t sure how to read that fact. Was Scott comfortable enough with him that he knew he could skip protocol or did he honestly feel that he was a threat and that he might need the weapon?
Bobby decided not to test him to find out.
Scott went through the documents in the folder and slowly shook his head. “You left a heap of bodies in your wake, son.” He looked up at Bridger and leaned back in the chair. “You mind telling me just what in the living hell happened out there?”
Bobby sighed and lowered his eyes. “That’s why I’m here, Scott? I thought maybe the government people would have cleared that up for me.”
“Well, they didn’t.” Scott crossed his arms. “I hear those were drug lords out there. Cartel people.” He shot Bobby a dirty look. “This is a clean county, Bobby. We don’t need that kind of viciousness and savagery around here.”
Bobby nodded. “If it’s any consolation, they shouldn’t be giving you any trouble.” He cracked a silly grin. “They’re dead.”
“You’re not funny.”
Bobby seemed to shrink in front of his friend. “I wasn’t really trying to be,” he replied softly.
Scott hung his head and sighed heavily. “It’s still my county. I don’t cotton to drug dealers showing up here. Even if they’re dead.” He threw his hands into the air. “And then there’s government people traipsin’ all over the place, shooting people and…” He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They didn’t clear a goddam thing with me before they came into my county.” He looked up at Bobby. “I still have folks I have to answer to.”
“I understand.”
“Well? I need answers if I’m going to be able to answer to them.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze at him. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened here or am I gonna have to arrest you for real?”
Bobby nodded solemnly. “Of course, Scott. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Then you might want to get to it.” He reached across the table and clicked the recorder on. “Let’s start at the beginning.”
Dallas, TX
* * *
“I tried to take up a collection to bail you out of jail.” Slippy smiled at him. “The whole crew pitched in.” He held a beer out to him. “Sadly, this was all we could afford.”
Bobby smirked at him. “You’re still not funny.”
“Oh, come on. I’m a little bit funny.” Gregg hustled to catch up to him. “They were pretty pissed that you didn’t call them for backup.” He stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Like I told you to.”
Bobby shook his head. “I already told you—”
“Oh, I remember what you said. ‘No dog in the fight,’ ‘We can handle it,’ ‘this here’s my rodeo.’ Yeah, it’s all up here in the old hard drive.” He stuck his finger out and poked Bridger in the chest. “And I told you what they’d say. Guess what? They said it.”
Bobby sighed. “Look, I get it. They’re butthurt.”
“Oh, no. They’re not just butthurt. They’re disappointed that you didn’t think they’d WANT to help.” Gregg shook his head at him. “Laughlin was almost killed out there and—”
“Since when do you care about him?”
Gregg raised a brow at him. “Guess who’s been by his side the entire time he was in the hospital?”
“Not you.”
“No, not me.” He cocked his head to the side and fought not to smile. “Lisa.”
Bobby froze and gave him a confused look. “Is she waiting for the opportune time to inject rat poison into his IV?”
Gregg broke into a toothy grin. “I think she’s sweet on him.”
“The hell.” Bobby huffed and marched past him. “What did they do with Mario?”
Gregg hung his head. “Yeah…about that.”
He froze again and turned slowly. “What?”
Gregg shrugged. “They aren’t saying.” He gave him a knowing look. “Of course, our favorite in-house hacker did his best work to locate the traitor and…get this. He’s still reported as ‘KIA’. There is zero record of his arrest. No chain of custody. Nothing.”
Bobby narrowed his gaze and leaned closer, unsure he heard correctly. “Say that again.”
“You heard me right.” He held his hands up in the air. “As far as the government is concerned, Mario never happened. The cartel didn’t come here and try to kill us.”
“Let me guess…Laughlin was shot in a training exercise?”
Gregg sighed. “There’s no record of him being hurt. Officially, he’s on a month’s paid vacation and he’s sunning his pasty ass in Cabo San Lucas.”
Bobby groaned. “What the hell is going on here?”
“Beats me, brother.” He walked by slowly, maintaining eye contact. “But if I were a paranoid person, I’d be thinking some vast government cover-up.” He formed an evil smile. “Con-spir-a-cy!”
Bobby groaned and stared ahead at the hangar that Baba-Yaga called home. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”
“Oh yeah.” Gregg slipped an arm over his shoulders. “And by the way…DJ is going to be just fine, thanks to my quick lifesaving action.”
He removed Gregg’s arm. “He was peppered with sand and had a concussion.”
Gregg nodded. “Well, yeah. But…he could have gotten a really bad infection. I used Bactine AND triple antibiotic ointment on him. I saved him from a staph infection from hell.”
“You’re a fucking saint,” Bobby muttered.
“Ain’t I, though?”
Two Weeks Later
* * *
Langley Virginia
* * *
Laughlin set the file down on Phil’s desk. “This is everything.”
Director Sammons picked up the file and flipped through it. “You realize that…none of this happened, right?”
Matt nodded and sucked at his teeth. “Yeah, I heard.”
Phil tucked the file into his desk drawer. “Any idea ‘why’ it never happened?”
Matt shook his head. “Nope.” He leaned heavily on his cane, wincing as the pain shot up to his hip. “But word is that the Sinaloa cartel destroyed whatever was left of the Murillo cartel.”
Phil nodded. “My contact at the DEA says that the Sinaloa is now the biggest Colombian cartel based in Mexico.”
Matt sighed and shook his head. “I think…” He trailed off.
“Do you need so
me more time off?” Phil asked.
Matt shook his head. “I think I’m going to turn in my retirement package.” He met the man’s surprised gaze. “I’m too old for this shit, Phil.”
He leaned back in his chair and gave him a tight lipped smile. “This decision wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain brunette, would it?”
Matt couldn’t hide the smile. “Yeah, well…maybe.”
Phil stood and extended his hand. “Go home. Take a few days to talk it over with her. If you come back next week and tell me you still want to submit your retirement package, I’ll have it expedited.”
Matt took his hand and shook it. “Thanks, Phil.”
Dallas, TX
* * *
DJ rocked back and forth in the chair and stared at the dartboard hanging on the wall. “You call this work?”
Bridger glanced around the hangar and nodded. “It’s the slow season.”
Mauk handed DJ a beer. “Every fridge in this place is full of beer. Do you guys get a bulk discount or something?”
Bridger shrugged. “I think Jay did a security gig for the CEO at one time. Ever since then, a delivery truck just shows up and…” He shot him a crooked grin.
Mauk sat in Deric’s chair and looked around. “Private jet. Attack helicopter. Armored Hummers. A fucking SCOUT vehicle.” He sighed. “It must be rough being a gun for hire.”
“Do you miss it?” Bobby asked.
“Not a bit.” Mauk tilted the bottle back and glanced at the door when Lisa walked in with Laughlin in tow. “Ah, the gimp is here.”
“No, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” Laughlin shot back. “I was only shot by an AK47.” He gave Lisa a wounded look. “At close range.”
“I know,” she cooed. “While trying to save my life.” She kissed his cheek. “You were so brave.”
“I was.” Laughlin smiled at her. “I really was.”
Burning Bridges Page 28
