Retribution

by Brent Towns

  Stepping forward he raised his voice, “All right everyone, gather around.”

  They all stopped what they were doing and closed on the DEA agent.

  “OK,” he said, “for those who don’t know me, my name is Luis Ferrero. I’m the man you come to if you have a problem, want something, or have a question regarding this team. You were all hand-picked by me because each of you has a set of skills that this team requires. From now on, we are to be known as Team Reaper. Field team call-signs will be such. Base call-signs will be Bravo.”

  Ferrero paused. “This guy here on my left is John Kane, the original ‘Reaper’. Work with him long enough, and you’ll find out why. Reaper is in charge of everything we do in the field. To his left is Cara Billings. She is his number two. She’ll also be our armorer. They will do most of the heavy lifting when it comes down to the bad guys, along with agent Traynor, who isn’t here right now. The fourth person on Reaper’s field team is Conrad Hawkins or Hawk. He’s done time in Columbia and a few other places that your mother would never let you vacation in.”

  Muffled laughter rippled throughout the small gathering.

  Ferrero went on, “Brooke Reynolds.”

  A tall, athletic woman with long black hair stepped forward.

  “Brooke is a computer whiz who will double in the field if required. She is also drone qualified and will be our eye in the sky,” he turned to Kane. “Be nice to her, Reaper. A time may come when she is all you have between you and the bad guys.”

  Kane nodded.

  “You can rely on me, sir.”

  Kane shook his head. “Call me Kane or Reaper. I ain’t a sir. On this team, we’re all equal. Right, Luis?”

  “Right up to the point where I start chewing on someone’s ass for screwing up.”

  More muffled laughter.

  “That leaves Sam Swift.”

  “Swift by name and slick by nature,” the tall thirty-something with red hair said. He flashed a broad smile.

  “Sam is another computer tech as well as a mechanic. Every single one of us will work in the field if required. As I have said, if this happens, Reaper is in command.”

  “Would you like to tell us exactly what we’re doing here?” Hawk asked.

  Ferrero stared at him. “For a long while now, I’ve been at the higher-ups about forming a task force that can take the fight to the cartels. And for that very same length of time, they’ve just sat on their side of the fence and laughed at us. No more. A few days ago, the Saguaro County Sheriff was killed by a man known as El Monstruo. His real name is Cesar Salazar. He is the personal sicario of Juan Montoya of the Montoya Cartel. The thing is, he didn’t just kill the sheriff but decapitated him. If that wasn’t enough, he then sent a kill squad across the border, and they attacked the jail and tried to kill Reaper and Billings.”

  He paused and ran his gaze over them all. “As soon as I informed them of what had occurred here in Retribution, those in command finally said that enough is enough. They also said that I could have whatever I needed to succeed. We have a blank cheque if you like, using our discretion of course; to cross the border and shoot that little fucker between the eyes if need be, to do whatever it takes to stop the endless bloodletting along the borderlands. Montoya is where we start.”

  “Is that what we’re going to do?” Swift asked.

  Ferrero shook his head. “I’d prefer to lure him across the border and do it then. But if it comes down to it, I’ll send a team to do just that.”

  “How do you intend to do it? Get him across, I mean.”

  “I have someone looking into that,” Ferrero said. He shifted his gaze. “Can you get me some pictures of Montoya’s compound? Satellite stuff, drone footage, whatever?”

  “How soon do you want it?” she asked.

  “Just as soon as.”

  “Can do.”

  “Slick, I have some footage which was sent through to me last night. I want you to download it so Reaper and Billings can look it over.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Ferrero looked at Kane. “It’s from Traynor. Apparently, Montoya keeps his money in an old bank.”

  “No shit?”

  “That’s what I thought. I need a way of getting it out of there. The killer thing about it is, the place has sensors, and once they are disturbed, cartel assholes are onsite in three minutes.”

  Kane nodded. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Hawk asked.

  Ferrero smiled, a sarcastic look on his face. “You get the good task. I want you to run some surveillance on Montoya’s compound. We’ll have photos of the place, but I want to know the rest of it. If we have to get into that place and kill him, I want to know the best way to do it. Take one of the DPVs. Reynolds will set you up with any other kit you need.”

  Hawk nodded. “Roger that.”

  “One more thing. If any of you get into trouble, fall foul of any situation, I shall move heaven and earth to help you out. I will have your back no matter what. For that, however, I demand total loyalty. If you can’t give me that, the door is over there, don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.”

  No one moved.

  The underlying tone was unmistakable. Kane said, “Are we deniable?”

  “If something happens to you on the Mexican side, or any other place for that matter, your government will not be of any use to you whatsoever. I, on the other hand, will be your best friend. This is a chance to do something about it all. However, it isn’t without danger.”

  “What if it’s you that ends up in trouble?” Hawk asked.

  “Then we’re all in the shit.”

  No one laughed.

  “All right, you’ve got –”

  A noise from outside stopped him short.

  “What the hell is that?”

  They all moved to the door and passed through it. Outside, Traynor was climbing from the battered SUV which had smoke coming from beneath its hood, bullet holes in every panel, and missing glass where each window had been shattered.

  Kane heard Ferrero mutter something under his breath before he said louder, “Don’t tell me, you got too close?”

  Traynor leaned against the vehicle. “They shoot a lot better than they used to.”

  “That’s because most of them are ex-military.” Ferrero shook his head. “Next time I’ll send you out in a DPV.”

  “I got you what I said I would.”

  “Yeah. Now you can help Reaper devise a plan to get the money out of there.”

  Kane shook his head after they’d watched the vision and heard Traynor’s description of the area where the bank was located. “It can’t be done.”

  Traynor said, “I agree.”

  It was Cara who came up with an alternative. “What if we can make him move it and steal it in transit?”

  The two men looked at each other.

  “Might work,” said Kane.

  “If we knew where they were going to take it,” Traynor added.

  Cara said, “If you were Montoya and you thought a fair haul of your money was going to get stolen, where would you take it?”

  Traynor said, “I guess I’d be wanting it close so I could keep an eye on it.”

  “Exactly. So where can he do that?”

  “At his hacienda,” Kane concluded.

  Cara nodded. “That’s what I figure.”

  Kane called Reynolds over. “While you’re getting those pictures of Montoya’s compound, could you also get us some of the roads between – shit, I need a map.”

  Reynolds turned away, and a few heartbeats later, she was back with what Kane wanted.

  “You’re good,” he said.

  “I aim to please.” She flashed him an even-toothed smile.

  He unfurled the map, ran an index finger over it and stopped when he found what he was looking for. “Can you get us some pictures of this spot here?”

  Reynolds leaned over the map. “Yes, no problem there.�
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  “Cool. How soon?”

  “Should have something for you tomorrow.”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  Reynolds turned and walked away.

  “Now,” said Kane, “let’s work the rest out.”

  “There’s a good chance that all of the vehicles will be armor-plated,” Traynor pointed out. “They’ll have a heavy guard too.”

  Kane nodded. “We need a Pred.”

  The MQ-1 Predator, UAV (Unmanned Aerial Vehicle), capable of carrying two AGM-114 Hellfire missiles, was perfect for the job that was required.

  Cara and Traynor gave him a look as though he was crazy. Kane turned and looked for Ferrero. “Luis, you got a moment?”

  The DEA agent walked across the room to them. “What is it?”

  “How bad do your bosses want Montoya?”

  “Deadly, why?”

  “Do you think you can get us a Predator armed with a couple of Hellfires?”

  Ferrero snorted and waited for Kane to laugh at his own joke. It never happened.

  “You’re serious?” he asked.

  Kane told him about luring Montoya into transporting the money and then hitting it in transit. “They’ll have armored vehicles. We’ll need eyes on to tell us which one the money is in when they leave Nogales. We can use the UAV for surveillance and the attack.”

  Ferrero nodded. “If it’s possible, I’ll get one. I don’t know where from, but hell, I’ll get it anyway.”

  “You should be able to get one from Davis–Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson,” Cara told him.

  “Fine, but that still leaves a body to fly it,” Ferrero pointed out.

  Kane called across to Reynolds again. “Reynolds!”

  “Yo!”

  “Can you fly a Pred?”

  “Right up Montoya’s ass if you want me to,” she answered without glancing up from the computer she was working at.

  “From here?”

  That got her attention. Her head snapped up, and the chair she was sitting on rolled back. She stood up and as she approached the group, asked, “What do you mean, from here?”

  “I mean control it from here if the boss gets you one from Davis-Monthan? It’ll fly out of there,” Kane explained.

  “Sure. I’ve used them for surveillance before.”

  “This won’t be just for surveillance. It’ll have two Hellfires attached to it.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Damn! Always wanted to shoot something with one of those. I’ll need a second man though.”

  “What for?”

  “Sensor operator.”

  Kane turned to Ferrero. “Good enough?”

  “All right. I’ll get the Pred. But I want a detailed plan before I tick off on anything.”

  “You’ll get it.”

  For the next hour, Kane, Traynor, and Cara bounced ideas around until they had nutted out a plan they thought best suited.

  “And if it doesn’t work, or Montoya doesn’t do what you expect, what then?” Ferrero asked.

  “We do it another way,” Kane told him.

  “When do you want to make your plan operational?”

  “We’ll need to execute the first part tomorrow night.”

  Ferrero’s eyebrows knitted. “What first part?”

  “We’re going to attack the bank.”

  “Whoa there! You said it couldn’t be done.”

  “It can’t. The aim of it is to make Montoya think that it’s possible. Once he does, then he’ll be more likely to shift the money.”

  “You realize that once you do, there’ll be cartel assholes swarming the place, don’t you?”

  “That’s the idea. Can’t bake a cake without cracking a few eggs.”

  Ferrero shook his head. “All right then. Consider the first part of the plan OK’d.”

  “We’ll take one vehicle. Once we clear the area, we’ll head out to the ambush site and dig in. Hawk will meet us there. If Montoya decides to move the money, it’ll be within twenty-four hours. We can use the UAV to watch over the bank, so we know when that happens. It can then track the shipment to where the target area is. There is one other thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll need some explosives.”

  Ferrero rolled his eyes. “You don’t want much, do you? Maybe a ballistic missile?”

  “C-4 will do.”

  “I’m starting to regret this already.”

  Hawk

  The hills above the Montoya compound

  “That’s a sight you don’t see every day,” Hawk muttered aloud.

  “Get your mind back above your belt, Reaper Four,” Reynolds’ voice came over the radio.

  Hawk gave a wry smile and lowered his high-powered field-glasses. “Always wanted an angel on my shoulder, Bravo One.”

  “Keep your mind on the mission, Hawk, or your mama will spank you.”

  Hawk raised the field-glasses back up and peered through them at the bikini-clad ladies around the pool. “Right now, Bravo One, spanking don’t seem all that bad.”

  Hawk had been on station since the previous day. Now it was mid-morning, and once more the temperature was climbing through the roof. The Reaper team member had set up his observation post on a ridgeline high enough to see down onto the compound as well as a fair view of the surrounding area.

  He’d been filled in on the operation by Ferrero and knew that the first phase would happen that night.

  Hawk lowered the field-glasses and looked out along the dirt road which led to the compound’s fortified front gate. Around two kilometers out, he could see a dust cloud rising from the desert.

  “Bravo One? Reaper Four. We have movement to the east about two klicks. Are you picking it up? All I can see is a dust cloud.”

  “Wait one, Reaper Four.”

  Back at the Reaper Team base in Retribution, Reynolds worked the joystick from her station. By some miracle, Ferrero had managed to get not one, but two Predator UAVs, so the team could have one in the air and the other on standby. If needed, the drone could stay on station for around twelve hours. Seated beside her was Master Sergeant Pete Teller, a big, broad-shouldered man assigned to the operation for the duration.

  “Pete, can you zoom in, so we can get a better picture?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The screen in front of her tilted as the Predator’s camera turned to the east. It might have been 15,000 ft in the air, but the camera made it seem like a hundred.

  The camera stopped when the cloud of dust came into sight, and he worked the focus to get a closeup view of what was at its base.

  “Reaper Four, Bravo Three. I’m looking at a two-vehicle convoy making good time.”

  “Copy that, Bravo Three.”

  “Both are black SUVs.”

  “Black SUVs, copy, Bravo Three.”

  Hawk shifted his gaze back to the compound and saw movement as the guards there swung open the tall, steel gates.

  “Bravo One, Reaper Four. Looks like our visitors are here to see Montoya.”

  “Copy.”

  Hawk watched as the vehicles passed through the gates and stopped in the large courtyard. Montoya and another man appeared from within the large house; the cartel boss dressed in his customary white, the man beside him wearing black.

  “Talk about yin and yang,” Hawk muttered.

  “Say again, Reaper Four.”

  “Sorry, Bravo One. Just talking to myself.”

  Two men climbed from the first SUV while three emerged from the rear one. Two came from the front of the vehicle while the third from the rear door. It was this man that Montoya walked towards and greeted.

  He, like the rest of the men, was dressed in a black suit but carried a briefcase. Closing the distance to Montoya, he held out his right hand, and they shook. The cartel boss then placed his hand on the new arrival’s right shoulder in a friendly gesture.

  “Are you getting this, Bravo One?”

  “Roger, Reaper Four.”

  Sud
denly the man’s face swam into view. “Shit! Bravo One, zoom in on our friend and inform Zero he’ll need to see this.”

  “Copy.”

  Reynolds ordered Teller to zoom in tight on the new arrival and saw what had Hawk concerned. “Christ!”

  She punched a few buttons, placing the Predator on autopilot, then rose from her seat and hurried across to where Ferrero was talking to Kane as the field team made final preparations to leave.

  “Luis, you need to come see this,” she interrupted.

  He frowned at her, but both he and Kane followed her back to her station.

  Once she was seated again, Reynolds said, “Bring it up, Teller.”

  The master sergeant punched a couple of keys, and the image popped up on a large monitor to his left.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ferrero hissed when he saw the face.

  Kane stared at the picture. The man was clearly in his fifties, with grey hair. He looked at Ferrero and asked, “Who is that?”

  “That, Reaper, is Senator Mac McCarthy from the great state of Texas. The son of a bitch has been against us performing operations outside of the U.S. for years. Now we know why. The bastard is in bed with the cartels. I bet they pay for a fair chunk of his campaigns.”

  “What do you suppose he is doing there?” Kane asked.

  “Who knows? Picking up his next payment maybe?”

  “Who are those fellers with him?”

  “Zoom in on the detail and get some pictures of them. We’ll see what crops up.”

  “Roger.”

  Reynolds went to work getting some screen captures of the senator’s security team. Before long, they too were on the screen. Kane studied them. He frowned and leaned in closer. When he drew back, he turned to Ferrero and said, “They’re military contractors. My guess is either Protection Services or Stay Safe.”

  Ferrero nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “What do you aim to do?”

  “After I have a talk to him, I’m going to pass on what we have to the FBI. They can sort the mess out. We’ll stay on mission.”

  “You’re going to let him know that we know? Hell, he might tip our hand.”

  “Once we have him and any information he has, I’ll pass him off to the FBI.”