Retribution Road

by Jon Coon

  The plane circled and landed. Fifteen armed men in uniform hit the ground and ran toward the command center. Tom’s six Rangers were dressed, armed, and waiting inside with Tom.

  “They will try to blow the doors and get in. Get everyone to the bunker and bolt it down. No questions. Move now!”

  The tech Carol remembered from her first visit shouted to Paul and Angelica, “Come with me. Hurry up.”

  Carol, who had been stunned in disbelief, shook herself to life and followed. “Holy buffalo chips,” she repeated as they ran through the tunnel into the bunker. “He was right. Where is Emily?”

  Chapter 31

  GABE SAW THE SMOKE MILES before he made the turn onto the property. He got on his phone and called police and fire and the Texas Rangers office in Austin. Men and planes were on the way, but not immediately. Could he find a vantage point and call in a status report?

  Definitely. As he drove toward the house, he prayed. “Dear Lord, we’re outgunned and ill-prepared. There’s no way this ends well without your help. Please Lord, give us a hand.”

  Gabe’s only weapon was in the back of the truck in the bed’s toolbox. He parked by the house and ran in. As he did, he called Tom. “Is that SEAL sniper rifle still in your gun safe? And where is the ammo?”

  “Yes. The combination is 36-24-36, and there are full clips in the ammo box on the top shelf. Get the Leopold range finder, and when you get set up, I’ll tell you how to use it to set the scope.”

  Inside, Gabe opened the safe and grabbed the McMillian TAC-50 sniper rifle and the ammo can full of five-round clips of fifty caliber BMG ammo. He ran back to the truck and headed to the command center.

  As he crested the hill overlooking the lake, he saw several men stacking plastic explosives against the heavy steel door. Gabe settled on his stomach in a pile of large rocks, flipped open the gun’s bipod, and as he jammed a clip into the heavy fifty-caliber, he surveyed the area with the scope.

  He redialed Tom’s cell. Tom answered almost instantly.

  “Okay, I’m set. What do I do?”

  “The range finder is set for that ammo, and the gun is zeroed in at 200 yards. Its effective range is about 2,500 yards. Read the distance to your target on the range finder, and then set the scope accordingly. If you can, pick a target with some room around it so you can see where you hit. Fire and adjust until you get the range.”

  “Got it.”

  Gabe let the phone drop to the ground beneath him and followed Tom’s instructions. He chambered the first round. A few feet from the door was a backpack with several black blocks of Semtex 10. Gabe sighted in. He took two deep breaths, exhaled half a breath, and held. The range finder had shown 510 yards. He squeezed slowly and fired. On line, but three feet short. When the men at the door heard the muzzle blast and realized they were taking fire, they turned. But before they could dive for cover, Gabe had chambered another round.

  His second shot was on target. The bag of Semtex exploded, and body parts flew.

  Half of the assault team was still able to run for cover. Gabe now had the range, and hit two before they found shelter. He counted eight still in fighting shape. But by now they were out of sight. He heard shots from the trees, but he was well out of their range.

  Gabe’s phone rang. He quickly answered.

  “Is the door clear?” Tom asked.

  “Clear. You’ve got shooters in the trees in back of the bunkhouse. If you can flush them out, I can help.”

  “Roger that. We’re moving. Cover us if you can.”

  Gabe shoved another clip into the rifle. The armored door opened, and with Tom in the lead, the seven men moved quickly for cover and began firing into the trees. Their fire was instantly returned, but in the process, careless heads bobbed up, and Gabe got two more. With the Rangers moving in and the lake in back of them, escape was limited. Tom called in Spanish for them to surrender and was answered with a hail of fire.

  Gabe got one more careless eager beaver, and then the Rangers had them flanked. Now caught in a crossfire, shouts of surrender came from the trees. The Rangers stayed behind their protective cover, and slowly the empty-handed men came forward from the trees. Gabe counted four. He waited. The Rangers held fast. Gabe scanned the trees and thought he caught movement on the far right. A grenade flew toward the Rangers on the right, and the pitcher had a good arm. It landed short but close enough to do damage. Two Rangers went down.

  The four men who had come out from the trees dove for cover. Gabe followed the movement through the trees and took his shot. The fifth survivor, who had thrown the grenade, went down with a scream of pain. His teammates got up from the tall grass, hands on their heads, and stepped into the clearing.

  Behind him, Gabe heard the plane on the runway rev up and start to move. He ran for the truck, jumped inside, and left a cloud of dust as he chased the plane. He sped down the access road beside the runway and got slightly ahead of the plane, then slammed his brakes. He jumped out, put in a fresh clip, and braced the gun across the truck’s hood.

  The plane was gaining speed. He took aim at the pilot’s window and rapidly fired the first shot. His lead was slow, and the round went through the plane behind the cockpit. He chambered a second round, and it took out the right-side cockpit window. The plane veered off the runway, crashed through a fence, and hit a power pole with transformers. The pole fell onto the plane and the transformers blew. It set off an explosion that turned the plane into a ball of fire and shook windows a mile away.

  Fire trucks, police, and ambulances began arriving. A med-evac chopper picked up the two wounded Rangers, and the police were surprised to hear that only four of the attackers had survived. None carried identification, but all looked Latin American.

  Several had identical snake tattoos. Angelica recoiled when she saw them and explained to Tom that the men were part of the Zapatista Army working for the cartel. Not that Tom had harbored any doubt.

  Restrained in the bunker, the four survivors were interrogated by Tom’s Rangers, but, more frightened by the certainty of Caldera’s punishment for talking than the Ranger’s threats, they remained silent.

  The ranch was in ruins. The house looked like Swiss cheese, the hangars and barns were burned along with several planes. The command center had survived and was running on its generator because the plane crash had knocked out the power. But the only casualties on Tom’s team were the two wounded Rangers.

  The attack had lasted less than an hour, but it would take years to repair the damage. For the first time in his life, Tom was speechless. He sat on the front porch steps, his head in his hands, and surveyed the devastation. His life took on new meaning. He wanted retribution, and he would have it regardless of the cost.

  His morose contemplation was interrupted by a beckoning from Jimmy, the geek from the command center. “Sir, you’ve got an urgent message. It’s on your secure line.”

  Tom checked his pockets for that cell phone and discovered it missing. “Take me to the bunker,” he ordered and jumped in the truck with Jimmy.

  “Where is Emily?” Carol shouted. She had hands on her hips and a no-nonsense glare. Everything stopped. “Where is Emily?”

  Paul and Angelica were silent. Then Jimmy the Geek said, “I saw her on the monitor. She was on a four-wheeler headed to the back paddocks. But the cameras are down. I can’t—”

  Carol was out the door and nearly knocked Gabe down as he was coming in.

  “It’s Em. She’s not in the bunker.”

  Gabe did an about-face, and they ran to the truck.

  “I’ll drive,” she said and jumped into the driver’s seat. When they topped the hill, horses were everywhere. Still panicked and wild-eyed, they scattered in front of the truck and ran toward the lake. Carol drove to Diamond Jack’s paddock. Jack was not in sight. Gabe jumped out and opened the gate. Carol drove through, and Gabe caught his door when she failed to stop for him.

  Diamond Jack’s private barn was riddled with gunfire. Carol s
lammed the brakes and ran in. Her beautiful horse stood in the door, blood running from his wounds. Beneath him, Emily lay in the straw crying. Jack held his ground when they approached.

  “He’s nervous and he’s protecting her,” Carol said. “Just go slow.”

  She held out her hand, and when Jack nuzzled it, she put her arm around his neck and cried. Gabe came slowly in and lifted Emily from the straw. Her eyes opened, and realizing she was in Gabe’s arms, she held on tight.

  “He saved me, Mom. Just like he did for you. All the other horses were running, and the plane came, and it was shooting at us, but he just stood there. Bullets came all around and he just stood there. Even when he got hit, he didn’t move. He just stood there protecting me.”

  Gabe put her down, and she went to Diamond Jack’s side and cried her thanks.

  Carol was on her phone to the vet, who said he would drop everything and come immediately.

  Diamond Jack shook his head and dropped on his front knees and then dropped again, still sitting up, into the straw. Carol took off her blouse and packed it against the worst wound.

  “See if there’s a first aid kit in the truck,” she said to Gabe. He went immediately to find it. He returned with a small kit, opened it, and found gauze 4x4s and ripped open the packages. Carol packed the other wounds and then held Jack’s head in her arms.

  “How could anyone do this?” she cried. “How . . .”

  Emily comforted her mother. “It will be all right, Mom.”

  “Dad was right all along,” Carol said between sobs. “They are monsters.”

  Hours later, Gabe, Carol, and the kids had retreated to the lake. Carol brought food from the command center galley, and they were making sandwiches and trying to process what had just happened.

  “Is Diamond Jack going to be okay?” Paul asked.

  “I think so, honey. The vet got the wounds cleaned and stitched. Only one was a bullet, and the vet removed it. The rest were shrapnel from the metal building. He said Jack will be fine in a month or so. Emily won’t leave his side. We’ll take her some lunch and check on them both after we eat.”

  “We need to get those guys,” Paul said. “They can’t get away with this. What are we going to do next, Gabe?”

  “I don’t know. I was just thinking about that, and I really don’t know.”

  “We need to go down there and kick butt, that’s what!”

  “They have armies,” Angelica said. “Hundreds of soldiers. All the money in the world. If you go back, the only thing that will happen is they will laugh and then kill you. You will never beat them.”

  “But we have to do something. We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

  “Maybe nothing is exactly what we need to do. At least for now,” Gabe said.

  “What do you mean?” Carol asked. “That’s not like you, what are you thinking?”

  “I was just remembering the story of Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, when he was attacked by a huge army several times the size of his own forces. Pretty much like what Angelica said about us going after the cartels. Your dad said they have 450,000 people on their side. What can we possibly do against an army that size?”

  “So what did that king do?” Paul asked.

  “He went to God and said, ‘We’re helpless and hopeless and clueless, but you promised this land to us, and it’s your land and it’s your fight, so what are you going to do?’”

  “And what happened?” Paul asked again.

  “Well, just like he’d promised, God kicked butt. He brought in another army and wiped out the attackers. And all the Judeans had to do was stand, watch, and load up the treasures they found when the battle was over.”

  “Well, that’s a nice story, but what has it got to do with us?”

  “Sometimes it’s better to sit, wait, and have faith than to rush into things on our own. Especially when the odds are not in our favor. There’s that old adage, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ All my life I heard that was from the Bible. But you know what? It’s not, and it’s not true. The truth is, God helps those who can’t help themselves. The ones who admit they are weak and lean on him for his strength.”

  “So what are we going to do now?” Paul asked, perplexed.

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Gabe smiled, then laughed. “Because the way I see it, we’re as helpless and hopeless and clueless as anyone I know.”

  “Well, we could go round up the horses,” Carol said.

  “That’s a great idea,” Gabe agreed. “Let’s do it.”

  “Just one more thing before we go,” Carol said. “We owe Gabe a big thank you. He saved us today. All of us. Coming after those men by himself was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen. And we all need to thank him.”

  “Shucks, ma’am. That’s just what us cowboys do out here on the range.” Gabe laughed, and Carol put her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

  They were loading the four wheelers when Tom roared up in the truck.

  “Gabe, I need you. Right now.”

  Gabe left Carol and the kids and got into the truck with Tom.

  “Maria sent us a message. The cartel’s target is the Baytown refinery. There are thousands of workers there.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “The Navy has been tracking an old container hauler, and they think a sub has been hiding in its shadow. Maybe two subs. The ship just made the port of Galveston, but no subs. They think the subs may have slipped past and are on the way to Baytown. Or they might already be there. We need to get down there and you need to bring your dive gear. Just in case.”

  “Dive gear?”

  “There’s a channel for supertankers to tie up when they off-load crude and take on refined gas. It’s over a hundred feet deep, and there’s a turning basin. The fastest way to check it would be to put you on a scooter and let you have a look.”

  “I don’t have a scooter.”

  “It’s on the way, and so are we.”

  “Have our prisoners given up anything helpful?”

  “Nothing, not even names. And I can be pretty persuasive.”

  “I remember. All right, how are we getting down there?”

  “My Cessna was totaled in the fire. Senator Benson’s Learjet is on the way. Should be here in ten. You need help?”

  “No, just a truck.”

  “Take this one and drop me at the command center. I’ll meet you at the plane. One other thing. You might want to wait to tell Carol until we’re in the air. She was a pain this morning about my leaving. She’s going to have a fit if she knows you are.”

  The sleek little plane landed, and it didn’t take long to turn around and get back in the air. The Learjet’s cabin had eight elegant seats and plenty of room for Tom, Gabe, and his gear. After they were in the air, Tom went to the cockpit where Senator Benson was flying left seat.

  “What’s the latest?” Tom asked.

  “No track of the subs yet. We’ve got the bay pretty well covered with choppers, and the USS Gabrielle Giffords is coming in with that advanced sonar. But so far nothing. We don’t really know if they even exist. All the surveillance planes have been able to confirm are shadows. This could be just a wild goose chase, but . . .”

  “Yeah, Maria has never given us bad intel, and the Navy guys know what they’re doing. If they think the subs are real, my gut says the subs are real.”

  “Mine too. We have to find these guys. We can’t have another Galveston disaster. Not on my watch. I’ve got a chopper waiting to pick us up at George Bush International. Houston to Baytown won’t take long.”

  Marine traffic in Galveston Bay was light, and the subs were lying on the bottom waiting for a tanker to shadow into Baytown. From shipping schedules, the sub crews knew at least two supertankers were due to dock at the refinery that day, and, as advertised, the black-and-brown-hulled Maroon Trader, a 76,000-ton supertanker owned by a conglomerate of oil companies, was making a rare appearance at the Baytown refinery th
at day.

  In the shallow water of the bay, the subs could hear the deep hammering of the engines and screws as the nearly 900-foot vessel plodded her way across the bay. Full of crude oil and drawing ninety feet, she moved slowly. It would take twenty minutes to stop under normal speed because of her huge momentum.

  She cut her engines fifteen miles out from the dock. That was perfect for the little subs. They could stay close like remoras on a great whale. And when the Semtex was detonated beneath her hull, two million barrels—or 84 million gallons of oil—would be ignited. The fire would burn for days and the damage would be catastrophic. At least, that was Caldera’s plan.

  As the tanker passed nearby, Sebastian opened the air valve to purge the ballast tank water and gently raised his sub up from the clay bay bottom. He throttled forward and was soon fully in the shadow of the Maroon Trader. Cristóbal, in the second sub, followed closely behind. In another two hours, they would be in place.

  Chapter 32

  TUGS EASED MAROON TRADER AGAINST the fuel pier, and a team of deckhands and dock workers secured the six-inch-diameter hawsers to hold her safely in place. The Canadian captain, who had supervised the procedure from the port bridge wing, turned command over to the chief mate and left the bridge. A good voyage deserved a good meal, and Houston was famous for its ten thousand restaurants. The captain had reservations at Killen’s Steakhouse with other seafarers, and it was an event to which he greatly looked forward. Had he any inkling of what was lurking twenty feet beneath his hull, he would have undoubtedly lost his appetite.

  Sebastian shut down the diesel engine for what was presumably to be the last time and began laying out number 8 blasting caps, called “common” caps, that would be used to detonate the Semtex 10. It didn’t take long. It was a simple timer in a waterproof housing. That done, they assembled the scuba gear they would use to escape the flooded sub. Again, that didn’t take long. They had dry bags for a change of clothing, sidearms if plans changed, and little else.