A sudden shrill call from deep within the cave caught her off guard. She stared out into the darkness and toward its source but could see nothing other than a few narrow needles of light. The call echoed across the void once more. It sounded like the scream of some animals although she couldn’t tell what kind. Despite its far away distance, Dejah suddenly became more scared. She lowered herself to the ground and sat holding her knees to her chest in fear, hoping that she wouldn’t hear the cry again and that her mother would come get her soon.
23.
Jared climbed down the extension ladder to join Tom in the cave. The two men shone their flashlights out of the light from the opening above and into the darkness that spread outward in every direction.
“How far down is the actual floor?” Jared asked, shining his light down off the pile of bones, rock, and years of debris that he and Tom stood upon.
“Maybe 30 feet,” Tom offered. “Animals have been falling down here for centuries. Maybe a millennium.”
Jared wiped his brow and coughed.
“You gonna throw up again?” Tom asked, chuckling.
“Ha. Ha. Ha. No,” Jared mocked. “It’s just hot down here. I thought it would be cooler.”
“I thought it be smaller,” Tom admitted, still scanning the darkness with his light.
“And it stinks to high heaven down here,” Jared exclaimed. “What is that? Is that shit? A whole lot of bat shit?”
“I don’t think so,” Tom speculated. “If there was a bat colony down here, we would’ve seen them fly out last night. Or fly back this morning.”
“Something’s been down here shitting,” Jared replied.
“Rats maybe…”
“Monkey shit!” Jared suddenly exclaimed.
“What?” Tom asked, turning to face Jared.
“It’s not bat shit. It’s monkey shit. I knew it smelled familiar.”
Tom stared at Jared in question.
“My roommate works in a lab where they’ve got a few monkeys. Smells just like that down here.”
“You think there’s monkeys down here? In a cave? In South Texas?”
“No, of course not. I’m just saying the smell down here reminds me of that. Reminds me of monkeys.”
24.
“You’ve heard my jokes about it and my wise-ass comments over a few beers last night,” Hunter began. “But here’s the official detail of what our mission is.”
“A few beers?” Pearce scoffed. “I shared at least 10 with you myself.”
Hunter shot Pearce a dirty look and a half smile then proceeded.
“As I was saying. Twelve of our 13 tunnelers broke into an unexpected cavern or cave. They were attacked by something and all, but Julio was killed.”
Hunter paused to allow everyone in the room to give Julio a look then continued. “Julio is the only witness and he tells us, quite convincingly, that he was attacked by baboons.”
Some in the room scoffed while others rolled their eyes.
“Our boss, Mr. Alvarado, theorizes that what actually happened was that a rival group tunneled in on our boys and took them out.”
“Is it possible?” Nickerson asked. “That mercs could be confused for monkeys or whatever?”
Hunter stood at the front of the room and thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Could’ve been some guys down there in light color camo or body armor…”
“I know what I to see,” Julio interrupted from the side of the room.
All the room looked to Julio. He still wore a face of loss and trauma but also of sincerity.
“I know what I to see,” Julio replied. “I know.”
“I don’t care who it was or what it was,” Hunter began anew. “Whatever it is, we’re going to eliminate the problem ASAP so we can get some boys back down there to digging.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
All eyes in the room darted to the door where Miguel now stood. His business attire dress was in sharp contrast to the tactical wear that dominated the room. “Because we are losing a great deal of money by the tunnel not being completed.”
Miguel paused and entered the room. He stood next to Hunter then looked to him for approval. Hunter gestured be my guest with his hand and Miguel began again once more.
“This tunnel is a sizable investment but one that will earn 400 to 500 times its cost once the first shipment of fentanyl makes it across. Each day that I don’t have a truck driving through it represents a loss of tens of millions of dollars.”
Julio paused once more to allow the numbers and the severity of opening the tunnel to register with the people in the room. He then turned to Hunter and apologized, “I didn’t mean to interrupt…to hijack your meeting with a financial report.”
“No problem,” Hunter insisted. “You’re always welcome.”
“I actually came in to hear Captain Taylor’s ideas,” Miguel continued. “Based on his experiences in Afghanistan, I’m sure whatever he has planned will be quite interesting.”
Miguel stepped back into the doorway and watched as Taylor stood. Hunter dimmed the lights and Taylor took his place before a hand-drawn map that was projected on the screen at the front of the room.
“The tunnel begins here in the barn and is currently closed off via a hastily reinforced garage door. The interior of the tunnel measures almost seven feet tall and six and a half feet wide which is barely enough room to drive a modified truck through. A single line of lights runs along the ceiling with a bulb every few feet. The walls and floor are packed earth or rock.”
Taylor paused then, seeing that he still had everyone’s attention and understanding, continued.
“Julio and his men made it almost a mile and a half before breaking into a larger opening and being attacked. We have no idea how large this opening is, if it was man-made, or what, if anything, in the way of aggressors are within it.” Taylor paused again then stepped away from the screen. He looked upon the team and addressed them on a more personal level.
“I know the measurements I gave you seem tight, but I assure you they are not. Most of the tunnels I dredged through in Stan Land were a third of that size. I have no idea what attacked Julio and his men, but I do know that it used surprise and the dark to its advantage.”
Most in the makeshift station room nodded in agreement.
“And we’ll do the same. Each one of you, including Julio, will be outfitted with either night vision or thermal imagery goggles.”
Taylor saw puzzlement wash over Miguel and Julio’s faces.
“Basically, thermal imaging sees heat,” Taylor explained.
Miguel nodded in understanding.
Julio still looked confused.
Taylor disregarded the latter and returned to his team.
“We’ll go in two-by-two with me and Hunter in the lead and Agüera and Ruck pulling up the rear.”
Agüera and Ruck nodded in agreement. Agüera held his hand to Ruck for a fist bump that was denied with a smirk and a dismissive wave of the hand. The room exploded into laughter and howls of how Agüera was dissed.
“Only problem I expect we’ll have his line of sight,” Taylor continued. “Given the heavy slope of the tunnel, we won’t have visual very far ahead of us regardless of what goggles we’re wearing. So slow and steady is the name of the game. If or when we encounter hostiles, command will revert back to Hunter. Any questions?”
“Where will Julio be?” Nickerson asked.
“He’ll be behind me,” Taylor replied. “He knows the tunnel. I need him up front with me.”
Nickerson nodded, as did a few others in the room.
Miguel did not nod in agreement.
He didn’t believe Julio and found his story ridiculous, a complete waste of time. He was only allowing Julio to live as he was the only tunneler left and so the only one who could guide the team to where the ambush took place. Miguel told Hunter that he expected Julio to be dealt with accordingly once his story
about killer apes was proven to be a complete fabrication.
Taylor brought Miguel’s train of thought to a standstill. “Any other questions?” he continued.
Miguel stepped front and center once more. “Not a question, Captain, but a promise to you and your team. You all open the tunnel by this time tomorrow and you are each looking at a $10,000 bonus.”
The team exploded into cheers and calls of excitement.
Hunter clapped his hands together and shouted over the noise, “Let’s saddle up and earn that bonus.”
26.
Border Patrol Agents Joel Andrews and Champe Carter exited their Chevy Suburban and made their way toward Cletus Lee who stood panting in the early morning heat next to his pickup.
“Are you Mr. Kane?” Agent Andrews asked nervously, palming the firearm in his side holster.
“King. Not Kane,” Cletus Lee angrily explained. “I’m Cletus Lee. I called this mess in to you boys.”
“And, are you an American citizen, Mr. King?” Agent Carter asked with pen and pad in his hand.
“Hell, yes I’m American. I’m a White, God-fearing, Christian Republican. And my name is Cletus Lee King. It don’t get much more American than that.”
“And are you armed, sir?” Agent Andrews asked. “Because you seem rather agitated and for our own safety….”
Cletus Lee raised his hands and spit a few ounces of tobacco spittle upon the ground. “I got a pistol in my back waistband. I’ve got a concealed carry card in my wallet. And I’m not agitated.”
“That’s just what an agitated individual would say,” Agent Andrews explained.
Agent Carter placed his notepad into his front shirt pocket, made his way to behind Cletus Lee, and pulled the pistol from his waistband.
“We’ll return this to you once you calm down,” Agent Andrews explained.
“That ain’t going to happen any time real soon, I tell ya,” Cletus Lee said, dropping his hands. “I’m starting to regret calling you boys. Y’all ask about my citizenship, take my gun—”
“You called about some dead illegals,” Agent Carter interrupted.
“No,” Cletus Lee corrected. “I called you boys about my construction crew back there being dead. I mean, sure, some of them are illegals, but most ain’t. Half of ‘em ain’t.”
“Did you know it’s against the law to knowingly employ illegal workers?” Agent Carter inquired.
Cletus Lee exploded in laughter then mocked, “No? Really? I had no idea.”
“Yes, really,” Agent Carter assured him. “A person commits a federal felony when he or she—”
“Whatever. This is Texas. I’ll hire who I want,” Cletus Lee barked. “Y’all wanna see what I found or not. I mean, y’all come out here to look at murdered folks and instead all y’all are doing is—”
“We don’t know that anyone has been murdered,” Agent Andrews interrupted.
“Oh yeah, the boys back there committed suicide by eating themselves down to the bone overnight.”
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter looked to one another then to Cletus Lee then back to one another.
“Please lead us to the bodies,” Agent Andrews requested.
Cletus Lee did as he was asked and, as it had before, the sky turned black with the sudden explosive flight of buzzards. Agents Andrew and Carter gagged at the onslaught smell of rot and decay that overwhelmed the area and swatted at the clouds of buzzing flies that nearly engulfed them.
“Is this one of the individuals you called the agency about?” Agent Andrews asked, trying not to vomit.
Cletus Lee turned in disgust, rolled his eyes, and said to himself, “A couple of goddamn rocket scientists I got out here.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t hear you,” Agent Andrews admitted.
Cletus Lee turned around to address the agents.
“Yes, sir,” he condescendingly began again. “That there dead mutilated body is one of the dead mutilated bodies I called y’all about. Them other dead mutilated bodies back there too.”
Agent Andrews and Agent Carter nodded to one another then knelt next to the remains of the first body. They looked the body up and down, nodded to one another, and rose.
“Chainsaw,” Agent Andrews and Agent Carter said in unison. “Chainsaw.”
“Chainsaw?” Cletus Lee guffawed. “Chainsaw what?”
“It is our assessment that this individual and I’m guessing the others, if they look like this poor gentleman, were killed by chainsaw-wielding cartel members,” Agent Andrews decreed.
“Are you shitting me?” Cletus Lee exploded. “Chainsaws don’t eat folks to the bone, ‘n’ they don’t leave bite marks.”
“Buzzards,” Agent Carter replied. “Buzzards ate these individuals. You saw them fly away.”
“Buzzards! They couldn’t kill these folks and eat them down as far as they did in less than a day.”
“It was a chainsaw that killed these men,” Agent Andrews reiterated. “Buzzards are what ate them.”
“What about this crazy footprint here?” Cletus Lee inquired, pointing at the odd-shaped cast in the bloody mud next to his boot.
“It appears to be that of a child,” Agent Carter theorized.
“That’s not a child print!” Cletus Lee’s blood pressure was at the tipping point. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand these two idiots. “Look at it. It’s all deformed.”
“Yes,” Agent Andrews agreed. “It appears to be the footprint of a deformed child.”
“A lot of deformed individuals try to enter America,” Agent Carter explained. “After all, we have the best health care system in the world.”
“And we are a very inclusive society,” Agent Andrews added. “Americans don’t bully the handicapped anymore.”
Cletus Lee spit in utter disgust and declared, “Boys, there’s something weird going on out here, and it ain’t a Mexican drug cartel out for a day of chainsaw chop suey! If y’all don’t pull your heads out, I’m afraid whatever’s happened out here is going to bite you and yours in the ass big time.”
27.
Despite the fact that they followed his command and that they followed military structures and procedures, Hunter’s team wasn’t military.
They were mercenaries.
And as such, Hunter let them choose their own weapons and what equipment they took into the field. Yes, today they’d all be issued night vision and thermal imaging goggles and radios, but everything else they took into the tunnel was of their own selection.
Hunter himself was wearing his standard outfit of a 5.11 tactical pants and shirt, custom boots, and body armor. He carried a Glock 19 pistol, an FN MK 16 CQC rifle, extra ammunition for both, a knife, flashlight, and a multi-tool. He also carried a small pack with a three-liter Camelback filled with water, several energy bars, and a first-aid kit.
Taylor’s gear was similar. He wore the same style clothing as Hunter and the same thermal imaging goggles and body armor. He carried a Sig Sauer P320 chambered in 9mm, a LaRue Tactical Costa Edition AR-15 rifle, extra ammunition, a knife, two M84 percussion grenades, and a pack filled with water, energy bars, and extra batteries.
Pearce’s massive build and thick black beard gave him the appearance of a barbarian from a fantasy film. The 18-inch socket machete he carried in addition to his Colt M4A1 SOPMOD rifle and Glock pistol made him appear even more so.
Nickerson wore worn fatigues from his DEA days and carried the same .40 Glock 22 pistol that he used during his career in the agency. He also carried a Heckler & Koch MP5A3 rifle and Ka-Bar knife.
Although not one for theatrics or flashiness, Agüera carried twin 1911 pistol’s sporting ivory handles with silver and bejeweled Mexican eagle engraves. Agüera had taken his “pair of trophies” off a sicario from the Sinaloa Cartel sent to collect a bounty on his head. The hit man didn’t succeed and Agüera picked up two new .45s as keepsakes. In addition, Agüera also carried an M4A1 Carbine rifle, Bench Made SOCP dagger, an ARDEC stun grenade,
and several packs of Marlboros.
Like Agüera, Ruck also carried a sidearm she’d taken off someone with nefarious intentions. She had just turned 13 when she made the adult decision that her mother’s live-in boyfriend would never hurt her or her mother again. Ruck waited for the right opportunity and found it on the night the man whose-name-she-refused-to say pulled a Beretta 9mm on her mom in yet another one of his booze and drug-fueled tirades. Ruck put a frying pan to his head from behind then watched in pure bliss as he hit the floor and stayed there bleeding out for 20 minutes. When the man came to, Ruck was holding his pistol to his head. Ruck said she’d love to pull the trigger but had a social studies project she’d worked really hard on due the next day and hated to miss turning it in because of all the police drama that would surely come from her putting a bullet through his, “worthless piece of shit head.” Mom’s now ex-boyfriend agreed that shooting him would definitely mean Ruck would miss school the next day and promised to leave immediately. Ruck held a pistol on him all the way to his truck.
Ruck worried that he might return but that fear was erased when the police came to inform her and her mother that he’d died in a car wreck shortly after leaving their trailer house. The bash to his head delivered by Ruck and his subsequent loss of blood combined with all the alcohol and narcotics in his system caused him to fall asleep at the wheel and run off a highway overpass.
The Tunnel Page 6
