The Grey Man- Partners

by JL Curtis

  Jesse got up, pacing the floor she quickly checked on Jace, who was thankfully still asleep. Walking back through the house, she headed for the front porch, and dialed Billy’s number. Flopping down in a rocker, she hit speaker and set the phone on the arm of the chair as the dogs came bounding on the porch, “Sit! Both of you, just sit!”

  Billy’s voice drifted from the speaker, “I am sitting. To what do I owe the honor of this call, Jesse?”

  Jesse’s voice broke as she asked, “Uncle Billy, do you know where Papa and Aaron are, and what they are really doing?”

  She heard Billy pick up the handset on his end, and a much more serious Billy said, “What do you mean?”

  “I found Papa’s credentials in the desk. Papa never goes anywhere without them. But I remember stories about not being able to identify…”

  “Stop right there, Jesse,” Billy said sharply.

  “Do you know where?” Jesse asked tentatively.

  Billy replied, “Yes, I know where they are, and I know what they are doing. They are taking care of some things that need to be done.”

  Jesse’s anger surfaced, “Why wouldn’t they tell me? Papa said he wasn’t going to hide anything from me, ever again!”

  “Some things are better not known ahead of time. I’m sure they will tell you when the get back,” Billy soothed.

  “If they get back! Isn’t that what you really mean Uncle Billy? Just in case it all goes wrong, I don’t know anything. Isn’t that it?”

  Billy countered, “Is that what you really think, Jesse? Do you think…”

  Jesse sighed, “I’ve heard your stories, and Papa’s stories when he didn’t think I was listening. And Aaron and Matt have done things like that too.” Hearing Jace crying, she said, “Jace is awake. At least he still trusts me. I guess I’ll find out if they come back. Will you at least tell me if they…”

  Billy interrupted, “They should be back within a week. Maybe less. You can ask them then. Kiss Jace for me, and call me if you need anything.”

  Jesse replied softly, “Thank you. I will.” Hanging up, she let Boo Boo and Yogi in, following them slowly down the hall.

  In Hot

  “Okay, listen up,” the old man said. Everyone gathered ‘round the little kitchen table jostling for position so they could see the map on the table and the pictures. Duck pulled Spears in front of him and looked over the top of her head, much to her annoyance, as the others chuckled.

  Pointing to the house the cartel was using outside Palenque he continued, “Based on intel, all of them are there tonight for a planning meeting to set up for the transfer of the MANPADs. The best way I see to do this is hit them tonight with a stack and cover front and rear. Tomas, you see a better avenue?”

  Lieutenant Huerta, the Mexican Marine shook his head, “No Senor, all we can hope is to catch them unaware. Or maybe I should say overconfident. I saw one of them buying a case of tequila so maybe they get drunk after their meeting. It’s nice that the house is remote, with good cover all the way to the yard.”

  The old man grimaced, “Yeah, good for cover, lousy for overwatch. I’ll have to be a hundred yards or less from the house to provide any overwatch, and that will only be for the front and sides that I can see.” Turning to Duck he continued, “Duck, can you cover the back? Maybe from the corner of the pasture?”

  Duck leaned in, “Yeah, I can do that. May take me a little longer to get in position.” Pointing to what appeared to be a large tree based on the canopy, he said, “I’ll set up at this tree, looks like it’s a pretty big one, and should give me cover behind the trunk. If shit goes south, call before you exit the rear. I’ll be looking for glint tabs, so make sure you’ve got them on the front and shoulders in the usual places.”

  “Tomas, do we try to take them alive?”

  Huerta thought for a couple of seconds, “That would be preferable, but I doubt it will be possible. This is not America where you yell at them to drop their weapons and they do so. We can try, but if they reach for a weapon, shoot them.”

  Seeing nods around the room and people patting their vests, the old man looked at his watch, “Alright, piss call and we load up in ten.” The team drifted out as people went off to do the last minute things. Aaron leaned against the wall, waiting until everyone else had left.

  Pushing off, he walked to the table and flipped the picture around, “Maybe if we split up, I get on the other side of the lane here,” Aaron pointed to a small cleared area, “I can still spot for you and get a little better coverage to the right of the house, even with these NVG[29]s.”

  Cocking his head, the old man thought about it for a minute, “Well, maybe. But at a hundred yards, how effective is that three hundred blackout going to be? I’m going to be throwing rainbows with this damn suppressed three-oh-eight. And if I take a shot, it’s going to blank the goggles for a couple of seconds.”

  Aaron shrugged, “It’s still around a thousand FPS, so unless they’re wearing body armor or a chest pack full of mags, I should be alright to take somebody down. They’re supposedly good out to two hundred yards. I thought we’d put that to bed on the range.”

  “Body shots have to be the aim point of choice tonight. I hate that, but given all the variables in play, I don’t want to try anything else. Let’s go ahead and split then. Just make sure we get a good comms check before we do.” Folding the picture, the old man dropped in his side pocket and rolled his shoulders, seating the LBV[30] a little more comfortably.

  ***

  The vans rolled slowly to a stop in the abandoned farmyard adjacent to the cartel’s hideout and everyone dismounted quietly. “Radios on, comms check. Count off with your numbers high to low,” the old man said as he flipped the radio on.

  Duck whispered, “Ten, gonna cut through from here, it’ll save me time to get behind the house.”

  The old man nodded and led the rest of the team back out the driveway as the others counted off. In their tactical rigs, with balaclavas down, the fifty yards to the hideout driveway caused him to break out in a sweat and wonder why in hell he was doing this. They slowly started ‘patrolling’ into the cartel’s hideout and he was relieved to see everyone maintaining interval and splitting to both sides of the drive, even if it was only about three yards wide. A few minutes later he stopped and waved Bob forward, “Okay, I’m going to set up here and Two (Aaron) is across the drive. Ten (Duck) should be in place in about five, so you’ve got that long to get to the end of the drive. We’ll be scoping, and we’ll try to call shots before we make them if possible.”

  “Roger that boss. Let’s go folks, time’s a wasting…” With that, Bob moved forward in a crouch, followed by Spears as LT Huerta led the other half of the team up the left side of the driveway.

  The old man found a convenient limb about five feet off the ground and rested the suppressed Remington 700 on it, bolt open and swung it right and left. Feeling confident he could cover the necessary angles, he toggled the mic to the private channel with Aaron, “I’ve got coverage from ten, maybe fifteen feet left of the house to the right side, with maybe three feet to spare on that side. I can see the top parapet except for the right side above the last window. I’ve got no movement other than our folks.”

  Aaron replied, “Confirm no movement other than our folks. I’m good for the area you can’t cover to the right and the parapet; I can’t cover left at all. I’m catching some movement behind the window on the far right, but I can’t tell if it’s one person or more than one.”

  The old man wanted to kick himself for not thinking of scoping the windows, and got back into position. Scoping with an NVG was interesting, and frustrating at the same time. He could see what appeared to be some kind of movement, but like Aaron, couldn’t determine what it was.

  Sweeping back to the left, he saw Bob and Tomas scuttling across the yard, closely followed by Spears, Jeff and Ron. Mo and Willie brought up the rear, as Duck came on line, “Ten in position. Nothing moving back here, no sign of gu
ards. All windows dark, except probable bathroom. One solid door on the rear of the house, centered.”

  Hearing a double click, the old man chambered a round, clicked the safety off and settled into the rifle. He started his breathing cycle and focused just to the right of the front door, as he saw the stack forming up to the left, noting Spears was third behind Jeff and Tomas. He heard Jeff call, “Hot mikes.” And saw him reach for the door, then set the breaching bar down, “Door’s unlocked. Going in three, two, now!”

  He saw the door swing open and the stack jumping through the door yelling, “Policia, drop your weapons!” then, “Shit, they’re going guns.” He began to see flashes of light from the room and hear calls of “clear left, clear right, moving” Picking up his scan, he saw something to the right, just as Aaron called, “Runner with a gun, second window, going right.”

  Swinging his rifle, he saw the runner and automatically calculated the lead, then added a couple of inches for the subsonic round, aimed for the top of the chest and pressed the trigger. Momentarily blinded by the muzzle flash, he called, “Lost runner.”

  Aaron replied, “He’s down. I’m going to put one in his legs.” The old man caught the muzzle flash in the corner of the NVG, but he was back on target with no problem. The runner wasn’t moving, but he could hear him moaning and see his gun lying a few feet away. The old man could see more flashes now that the window was broken out. It appeared there was some kind of hallway as the flashes appeared to be framed by a door. It’s amazing, here we are taking a bunch of cartel thugs down and it’s quiet as a mouse.

  Two pistol shots sounded loudly in the night as Duck called, “Runner back, out of the bathroom.” A couple of seconds later he came back, “Runner is down.”

  More calls of “Clear” sounded, then Spears was heard, “Oh you mother fucker.” The old man saw a flash in the far right window, closely followed by, “How do you like that you sumbitch?” from Spears.

  Bob said in a strained voice, “All clear, all clear. We’ve got a problem. Everybody on me.”

  The old man looked at Aaron, and saw him looking back, “One, go ahead. I’ll provide cover and check on the runner down in front.”

  The old man dropped his rifle off the branch, safed it and started forward, drawing his 1911. Aaron joined him on the right, carrying the AR at low ready. At the yard, Aaron peeled off and trotted over to the runner lying in the yard. Kneeling he keyed up, “Hey Ten, got a live one up here. Little help?”

  Duck replied, “On the way, Two. Coming around the house from your right. In two mikes.”

  The old man shoved his NGVs up as he walked into the house, pistol still drawn. Willie was checking the bodies as Ron picked up the maps and a laptop computer that lay on the table. Hearing moaning and crying down the hall, he picked up the pace, and heard Tomas speaking quietly in Spanish. Stepping into the last room on the right, he was greeted with the sight of a naked young girl clinging to Tomas and crying as Spears stood over a moaning figure on the floor. Tomas said, “We’ve got a big problem. Be right back,” as he shepherded the young girl out. Seeing that the man down had his pants around his ankles, and bloody hands gripping his groin, he glanced at Spears.

  Never taking her eyes off the man she said, “This fucker was trying to rape that girl. I might have been a little aggressive when I saw that. I butt stroked the SOB, and shot him in the groin. Hope we’ve got at least one live one, since this asshole doesn’t deserve to live!”

  The old man said, “Nah, we’re all good.”

  Spears casually kicked the man in the groin, eliciting another scream and he tried to scrabble away from her. Tomas came back without the girl and said, “Captain, we’ve got twelve young girls in the other room. Apparently, they were either hijacked from the coyotes, or this is a turnover point. I don’t know what we’re going to do with them, but I told everyone to only speak Spanish, and keep their balaclavas on just in case.”

  “Good thinking. Now what are we going to do with this one?”

  Tomas replied, “I think I’ll question him a bit, then dispose of him.”

  The old man said coldly, “Do it. Child rapists don’t deserve to live.”

  He walked back toward the kitchen and stuck his head in the next room, seeing Mo searching he asked, “Finding anything?”

  Mo reached down and held up a round object, “Thermite grenades. RPG, couple of Ingram’s converted to full auto, and ammo. I guess this was the arms room.”

  Continuing back through the house, he spied Jeff and Ron, handing them the van keys he said, “Guys, would you mind going and getting the vans? Looks like we’ve got to move some people.”

  Jeff asked, “What about the girls?”

  The old man replied, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Can’t leave them here. Not sure what the hell to do right now.”

  Aaron and Duck came through the front door, half-supporting and half dragging the runner the old man had shot, and dropped him in a chair at the table. He had on a chest pack and the old man realized his round hadn’t penetrated the AK mags in the pouch. Shaking his head, he looked around for Tomas, but didn’t see him. He went ahead and questioned the man, getting very little other than threats of what would be done to him, his family, everybody’s family and their ancestry. Hearing a muffled report from the back of the house, he guessed the rapist was done for, and he called out, “Tres.”

  LT Huerta came down the hall quickly, and they huddled as the man continued to spew invective at everyone. Tomas walked over and casually slapped the man, then grabbed his face and yanked him around. Cutting his bonds loose, Tomas reached out and picked up a machete that was laying in the chair.

  Slapping the man’s arm up on the table, he brought the machete down, cutting off the last two fingers of his right hand. The man screamed and pulled his bleeding hand to his chest, as Tomas leaned over and quietly spoke in his ear. The man mumbled something back to Tomas. Moments later, Tomas casually stepped back and with a full swing, chopped most of the way through the man’s neck, burying the machete deeply as blood spattered everywhere. He kicked the body to the floor and turned to the old man.

  “Captain, I believe we have enough information to intercept the truck with the missiles, but I have a concern about the girls.”

  Sparks came whistling down the hall, swinging a backpack from her hand, “Are we okay to talk?” she asked in Spanish.

  The old man nodded, and she continued, “Look what I found!” Upending the backpack on the bloody table, she spilled out money in the form of pesos and dollars.

  Aaron whistled at the sight of all the money, “There must be ten or fifteen thousand dollars here!”

  The old man snapped his fingers, “Exactly! Tomas, do you remember seeing a Catholic Church here?”

  Tomas nodded and smiled, “You’re thinking dropping the girls and money on the church, correct Senor?”

  “I can’t think of a better answer, and the church can make them disappear much more quickly and safely than we can.” Hearing the vans pull into the yard, he continued, “Take both vans, and one for security in each van. Go drop them at the church while we finish up here. Come back and get us as soon as you can.”

  “Good. Put the money in the backpack and I’ll get the girls. Warn the drivers not to say anything in English. I’ll be right back with them.”

  Aaron went to tell Jeff and Ron what was going on, as Sparks and the others piled the money back in the backpack. Sparks quipped, “Yep, this is truly blood money. I wonder if that will get the priest’s attention.”

  Tomas came back leading the girls, with Mo bringing up the rear. While shaken, most of the girls seemed more apathetic than anything. Suddenly one of them ran to Spears and grabbed her babbling thank you and you saved me in Spanish. Spears rocked back for a minute, then tentatively reached down and hugged the girl, bending over and saying quietly in Spanish, “I did what I could. I’m sorry for your treatment.”

  All of the girls stopped at hearing a
female voice, and Spears shrugged, “I guess I’m going as security. Maybe we pack them all in one van. They’re pretty small.”

  All of the girls began babbling, and Tomas looked at Spears with a strange expression, then shrugged. Spears hustled the girls out the door and they all piled into the first van, Spears got in the back with them, and Tomas took the shotgun seat.

  Ron shook his head and shivered, “That is one cold bitch. She saw what was happening, butt stroked him and shot him about the time he hit the floor. No ifs, ands or buts…”

  The old man smiled, “And y’all didn’t think she’d hack it.”

  Willie chimed in, “Nope, not anymore. And if you think I’m pissing her off, just smack me upside the head.”

  “Huerta is the cold bastard. He chopped that sumbitch’s fingers off without a second thought, and I guess he got what he needed, because he flat buried that machete in his neck. Period, end of story.”

  ***

  Huerta directed Ron around to the side of the church, then jumped out and pounded on the rectory door. Getting no answer, he pounded again, and finally a light flipped on, followed by the door being opened by a tousled Padre in a hastily thrown on cassock. Words were exchanged and he waved to the van. Ron got out and opened the side door, allowing Spears to step down followed by the now quiet girls. Spears reached in and grabbed the backpack, flipping it to Tomas.

  He turned it over to the Padre, and waved the girls into the rectory as an elderly nun came to the door. One girl hung back, and Spears realized it was the one that she’d saved. She leaned over and whispered to the girl that it was best for her to go with the others, gave her a quick hug, and turned back to the van.

  Back on Patrol

  Jesse pulled into the sheriff’s department parking lot a little after seven, got her bag out of the car, and looped her duty belt over her shoulder. Walking slowly to the back door, she sighed and unconsciously straightened her shoulders and tugged at her shirt and pants. Okay, ordering new pants is high on the list. I’m not as skinny as I used to be. I’ve done this before. It’s not like this is anything new. Back in the saddle. I can ride this horse.