by David Nees
After going out to a local stand up food counter and getting a burrito for breakfast, Dan went back to his room and laid out his gear. He rigged the two bricks of C-4 with igniters and wired them to the burner phones. Then he entered the phone numbers on a third phone’s speed dial. When finished he carefully placed the devices in his pack. He checked his M4 and 9mm, made sure he had extra loaded magazines and put them into the zippered bag along with the Barrett MRAD. He put the night vision goggles, glasscutter, suction handles, his tactical flashlight, tactical knife, bolt cutters, and his operational clothes in the backpack. In a side pouch, he put some water and energy bars. He was ready. He only needed to fill the two plastic jugs with gasoline on his way to the jumping off point.
With everything packed and ready, Dan sat on the bed and examined his wound. His leg throbbed, but when he unwrapped the old lady’s bandage the wound looked calmer, less red than the day before. The salve was doing its work. He put clean pads on the wound and wrapped the leg in fresh gauze. Then he lay back on the bed to rest. He propped his leg up on some pillows to ease the throbbing and focused on relaxing his muscles. In this quiet state he went over his plans once more. They were as good as he could make them. The operation was dangerous, but not beyond hope of success. I can do this. Even if the old woman is worried. The plans floated into a dream as he fell asleep.
When he awoke it was later in the afternoon. He got up, stretched and put on his street clothes. He left his room and went out for a walk and food. The neighborhood was a mix of apartments, modest houses, street front vendors and small shops. In one block there was a car repair shop; in another was a local taxi garage where the cabs were dispatched, parked and repaired. It had the unkempt, busy look of a place thriving but only through constant hard work and pressure from its owners.
A few hustlers tried to approach him, guessing his good clothes indicated money in his pockets, but Dan gave off a vibe that said, “Don’t mess with me.” After a futile try, they quickly backed off. He scanned the crowd keeping an eye out for anyone with intense eyes focusing on him. After a while, he chided himself for worrying about what Tlayolotl called Watchers.
He grabbed two chicken tacos with refried beans at a street vendor’s stall and went back to his hotel room. He ate and then lay back on the bed to rest again. He was going to start the operation at midnight. At ten pm Dan took his gear and went down to the front desk to check out.
“But you have paid for a week and only stayed four days,” the clerk said.
“My business finished early and I want to get back rather than stay. You can refund me two days and keep the third day for this late notice.”
That seemed to satisfy the clerk. Whether or not he’d report the extra day’s cash or pocket it himself was of no concern to Dan. After completing the checkout, he loaded his bags in the trunk of the BMW and drove to the rental agency. It was closed so he parked on the street and put the keys in the drop box. He grabbed his bags and hailed a cab to take him to the garage he had rented.
He picked up the truck and set out for Lomas de Chapultepec only stopping to fill the pickup and the two plastic jugs on the way. He drove slowly and in a roundabout fashion, out of habit, making sure he wasn’t being followed. Even at this late hour, traffic was still thick. It was 11:40 pm when he got to the corner store. It was closed. Dan went to the front door and read the sign that said they opened at 6 am. He had to be gone by then. He parked in a dark corner, out of the way.
From the back seat, he took the M4 and 9mm out of the gun bag. He put the pistol in his backpack and strapped the M4 to the back of it. Shouldering the pack and grabbing the two jugs of gasoline, Dan hurried across the street and walked to the end of the fence. He realized he couldn’t run well. Hope I don’t have to do much of that. He unhooked the carbine and slipped it through the gap. Next he stuffed his pack through. Just then he saw some headlights coming over the bridge. There was no time to get inside the fence. As the lights approached, Dan dropped to the ground and lay up against the fence. He hoped no one in the car would be looking to the side and they would just go past. The car stopped at the intersection and then rolled through going straight down the road. Dan let out a sigh, slid the two gas jugs through the fence and then squeezed himself through the gap. Grabbing all his gear, he moved into the undergrowth.
Once shielded from the street, he changed into his black pants and shirt. He left his facemask in the pack for later use. With his pack on his back, his M4 over his shoulder, his 9mm strapped to his waist, and both gas jugs in his hands he began limping down the preserve. Like the night before, the goggles made navigating through the trees and undergrowth an easy task.
In twenty minutes Dan was at the turning point, marked by the large blaze he had made on the tree. He now moved quietly and carefully towards the back yard. When he reached the fence, he settled down to wait for the guard. Once he had passed, Dan would cut the chain link and slip into the yard. He scouted his route forward, from tree to bush to tree. He picked out spots to stop before the guard came by, estimating he would be crawling slowly so as to not be noticed on any camera. From the camera angles, Dan figured he could approach the patio doors by moving along one of the house’s side walls; the cameras seemed to point over them into the patio and yard. While there was illumination on the patio, the walls were shrouded in shadows.
Five minutes later the guard appeared. Like last night, he was not very alert. After many nights of walking around the mansion, Dan guessed the act had become so routine as to lose any sense of urgency and need. Just like the warehouse. He smiled. The gangs were brutal but not well trained; probably not very good shots either, which boded well for him. After the guard turned the corner Dan took the bolt cutters and applied them to the fence. There was a small snap as each link was cut. He rolled the cut links back, slipped his gear through, and crawled into the yard.
After closing the links with some twist ties, he started crawling to the nearest tree. He took his time noting on his watch how soon the guard would appear again. He was behind the tree when the man came back. Again, when the guard disappeared around the corner, Dan crawled towards some bushes that edged a bed of flowers. No one could see him. He repeated the maneuver three times, finding hiding spots before the guard came around. He skirted the helipad which was flat and open. The last move to gain the wall would be the most dangerous. He had to cross the edge of the patio. There were no plantings there, although some benches offered minimal cover. If I’m discovered this will turn into an all out assault and I won’t have time to do what I came to do before police or reinforcements arrive. Everything depended on gaining access to the house undetected.
The guard’s path took him just outside the patio, skirting a planting bed that lined the outer border of the stone pavers. Dan lay inside the bushes of the bed as the guard walked by only ten feet away. He held his breath and pressed himself against the dirt, trying to be a part of the landscape. Again, the guard’s casual approach played into Dan’s hands and he was not spotted.
After the guard turned the corner Dan started crawling along the back edge of the patio towards the left wall. The guard would have the least direct view of that wall as he was walking from left to right along the back of the patio. He forced himself to move slowly since there was no cover and the patio illumination spilled over. When stationary Dan would show up as a dark lump in a dim picture on the monitor screen. Only when moving would he attract attention. Hope the guy monitoring the videos is just as bored as the one outside.
He finally reached the wall and had only a moment to huddle flat on the ground, against the wall, before the guard reappeared. The guard was looking forward as he walked past, never glancing over his shoulder, a pattern Dan had observed on the previous rounds. He turned the corner and Dan began to move along the wall. He had to move down the wing to the main house wall and then to the glass area to the double doors. He moved in a crouch rather than a crawl, wanting to get as much done as possible before the gu
ard came around again. Lying on the stones next to the windows he would be most exposed and he only wanted to risk that once. The only help was some patio furniture that broke up a clear view of the base of the wall.
When he reached the windows he took out the glasscutter and began to work, checking his watch. A few minutes before the guard’s expected return, Dan took out his 9mm with its suppressor and lay on the patio against the glass walls facing outward. If seen he would take out the guard immediately. The shot would probably not be heard; it was the best he would be able to do. If the guard didn’t come around, eventually someone would come looking, but Dan would be inside and could take down the others as they entered to look for the intruder.
He was in luck. The guard didn’t notice him and walked past again. When he turned the corner, Dan finished cutting a pane at the floor level and pulled it out with the suction cup handle. He set the cut piece down, shoved his gear inside, and crawled through the window. Then he brought the cutout pane into the building. Only a lack of light glinting on glass would give away the missing pane.
After getting inside, Dan pulled his face mask over his head. With his backpack on, his M4 slung over his shoulder and hanging down in front of him, and his 9mm in his hand, Dan began to move forward.
He had memorized the map Rodrigo had drawn him. The first step would be to locate his position. Then he had to find and take out any interior guards; if no one came in from the outside, all the better. By the time he finished all hell would be breaking loose and he would have a chance to run for his exit in the confusion. That’s the plan, anyway.
Chapter 46
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J ust inside the patio was a room that seemed to be an arboretum. It had a polished stone floor and was filled with huge plants, water fountains, and basins. Throughout the room there were benches where one could sit. The air was moist, tropical-like; an oasis from the dry high desert air of the city. Must be quite an expense to maintain this tropical space. Dan slipped through the room without a sound and entered a hallway. Part of the way down the hall was a large, commercial type kitchen with an eating area. It was empty. He crept further down the hall towards the front of the building. At the end of hallway the space opened up. There were rooms to the right. One looked like a dining room, the other a reception or sitting room. To Dan’s left, the space remained open like a hotel foyer. Further to the left were a pair of double doors that he knew opened to a grand banquet or ballroom hall. Past that, Dan remembered from the map, was a formal library and office.
He remained crouched at the edge of the larger foyer space going over the map in his head. Through the dim light he could see a guard sitting at a desk near the front door. He was facing the front door and had earphones on, probably listening to music. Dan crept quietly along the foyer to his left, behind the guard, heading towards the ballroom. Ortega might be in the office that was beyond the large room.
The double doors leading to the grand room were closed. Dan tried them. They were not locked but when he pushed down on the door handle it gave out a loud screech. Dan quickly slipped through the opening and flattened himself against the other door. He heard a chair scrape. The front door guard had heard something and was coming to look. Dan unclipped his carbine and laid it on the floor. He took out his knife.
The man came through the door, sticking his head in first. Dan grabbed him and pulled him through. Before he could do more than grunt in surprise, Dan stuck his knife in the guard’s back, puncturing the man’s lung. He heard the hiss of air escaping. The man stiffened. Dan immediately pulled his knife out and thrust it into the base of his skull, where the neck and head meet. The guard went limp in his hands.
Dan let the man down gently to the floor and looked around. He needed to park the body where it couldn’t be found. If anyone saw the guard missing, they would assume he’d gone to relieve himself or slip off somewhere to sleep. If they found a body though, alarms would be raised. He moved along the inside wall. The room had a forty foot long table in the center. The ceiling was fourteen feet high. It looked like a European castle banquet hall, a place where the lord could preside over sumptuous feasts. The outside wall faced out to the formal front grounds with ten foot high windows. The inside wall was paneled wood. There had to be a door hidden somewhere in the paneling; an entrance to a passageway to get food from the kitchen to the dining hall without going through the front foyer. The door would open to a corridor that would connect back to the hallway he had used and from there one could access the kitchen. He moved along the wall feeling for an opening. Halfway back into the room he found the door. It was not locked. He dragged the body down to the entrance and put it inside the hallway.
He next moved down to the door leading into the large office and library. He listened outside the door. There were no sounds coming from the room. With his 9mm at ready he slowly turned the latch and opened the door. He quickly scanned the room, ready to shoot. It was empty. He must be upstairs in his private wing. Rodrigo had explained that Mendoza had a private wing of his own in the mansion as did his wife, María, all on the second floor. Mendoza’s wing had a master bedroom and bath suite, a sitting room and a private office. It was there that he had spent most of his time. Ortega will likely be either in that office or asleep in his bed. Time to go upstairs.
Dan retraced his steps back to the foyer. Just to one side of the hallway leading back to the arboretum was a grand curved staircase that ended in a balcony landing. It was designed so the lord of the manor could look down on the people arriving. Everything in the house was designed to accentuate the prestige and power of the owner.
From the drawing he knew that at the top, from the landing there were three doors. The one to the right, on the same side as the banquet hall, was Mendoza’s wing. At the rear of the balcony was another door that led to an upstairs lounge and sunroom. To the left was María’s wing that incorporated her personal bedroom suite, sitting room, children’s bedrooms and playroom.
As Dan reached the top of the stairs the door to María’s wing opened. Dan brought up his 9mm but hesitated; it was a woman. She looked at him wide eyed and then backed out of view, closing the door. It only took a second, but Dan thought he recognized María. He hurried to the door and slowly opened it. Down the hall he saw the woman turning a corner in the hall. Dan followed and reached the corner in time to see her enter a door.
He went to the door and gently knocked on it. There was a moment of silence. He knocked again, only a bit louder this time.
“Adelante.” He could barely hear the woman’s voice from inside the room.
Dan opened the door and stepped into the room. The lights were low, but he could see her standing to one side of the room. She was staring at him wide-eyed, direct, but not fearful.
“You have come to kill me?” Her voice was clear and lilting.
He shook his head ‘no’.
“Who are you? Why are you here? You are masked like a bandit or assassin.”
Dan realized he had his facemask on. He must look terrifying to the woman, yet she stood there asking him about his business in the house. He reached up and removed the mask. He didn’t know why, but once done, it was too late to undo the act. There he stood, face to face with the wife of the man he had assassinated. She was tall. She had brown hair that fell over her shoulders. Her face was that of a classic beauty, high cheekbones, full lips and dark brown, slightly almond shaped eyes.
“Are you the one who killed my husband?”
Dan nodded, not sure of his voice.
“Why?”
He forced himself to speak. “He was a bad man and was going to hurt many people.”
“You did this alone?”
“Many people wanted it done. He was going to smuggle terrorists into the U.S.”
“So the U.S. government had him killed him.”
“No.”
“Vigilantes?”
“Something like that.” Dan continued, “He has ki
lled many people. He has enslaved many through his drugs, here and in the U.S. And now he was going to send terrorists into my country. He was not a good man, your husband.”
“Why not arrest him? Put him on trial? Isn’t killing him just doing what you accuse him of doing?”
“Your government is too corrupt. He would not be prosecuted. You must know of all the officials and politicians he has bought off.”
She didn’t reply and her look betrayed her knowledge of Mendoza’s corrupting influence.
“He said it was necessary to do his business in peace, without violence.”
“María, that’s your name isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“María, he ordered many killed to gain power and control. Hector Ortega did most of it. You seem to be a smart woman, you must know of some of that.”
She seemed to sag slightly as if the weight of that knowledge bore down on her. She shook her head and tossed back her hair to look back at him again. “So you killed my husband. You were judge and executioner and now you are here. Why?”
“I’m going to kill Hector. He can’t be allowed to take over. I didn’t expect to find you here.” Dan paused and stepped forward, “Why are you here?”
María didn’t answer.
