The blocks were close to two feet wide and had uncanny powers of insulation. The building retained the overnight coolness well through the day, and when it cooled down at night, windows were opened to allow the cool air back into the structure. After two hundred years, the buildings all retained structural integrity, and with the exception of paint and occasional patching, they required little maintenance.
“Are you really that good with the language?” Erin brought him out of his reverie with her question.
“I’m bilingual; my Spanish is as good as my English. In fact, sometimes when I encounter a problem or situation I find confusing, I’ll think it over in Spanish and, often, I’ll stumble on something that never occurred to me in English.”
“You have to be kidding.”
“No, I’m not. When you change languages you also change your world view and the way you see things. It’s pretty remarkable really, and I am grateful I have that ability.”
Stryker saw another beach resort ahead on the right and swerved off the road to get to it. It was a long and low line of bungalows that would not attract a lot of attention from passersby. The houses were all painted white and made with American frame and stucco construction. They were almost indistinguishable from one another and all had the same desert landscaping covering the front yards, and the same wooden porches fronting the structures.
He drove into the parking lot, and then circled around the building to park on the beach side of the hotel where the Humvee would not be spotted from the road.
“You going to clear the house first?”
“You even have to ask?” Stryker replied in a joking tone.
“You never know.”
“You should by now.”
Stryker got out of the Humvee and walked toward the porch. He tried the front door. It was open.
He walked through the entrance, tiptoed through the house with his weapon at the low ready and went from room-to-room, until he found the master bedroom.
Two set of skeletal remains lay on the bed, both surrounded by deflated pajamas.
Stryker sighed, went to the kitchen, found two garbage bags, and loaded the remains into them. He strode out the back door, placed the bags on the side of the house and walked back through the house.
“Come in,” he said to Erin, who stood on the passenger side of the Humvee. “We’ll sleep in the spare room.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The morning after the ambush, Stryker and Erin sat on the balcony of the beach house where they slept the previous night, again drinking MRE coffee and watching the waves lapping the shoreline with a slow rhythm.
“How did those guys know we were coming and set the ambush?”
Stryker continued looking at the ocean. “I was up half the night thinking about that.”
“I know. I heard you come to bed late.”
“The right question to start with is who were they intending to ambush? You and me, or somebody else? I’m not sure how it could be us unless the captain was talking to somebody that was not really from the navy ship who got his hands on the ship’s cell phone. Or, he was talking to someone with a gun to his head.”
“Who else would they intend to ambush?” Erin asked.
“That’s what we won’t be able to plug into the equation, as there is no way to know. That piece is the x in an algebra problem.”
“What else do we have?”
Stryker glanced at Erin who took another sip of her coffee. “Well, the next question is, what do they want?”
“Explain.”
“We can rule out they just like spending time baking in the sun while hoping that someone shows up so they can waste ammo, so what is left? They live on the ocean with food all around, they have running vehicles, so what other possibility remains?”
Erin thought it over. “We can rule out all the things we have seen so far, so what they want is something we haven’t yet encountered.”
“Right. And, it can’t be somebody else they wanted to ambush, because they would have let us pass and waited for the people they wanted to show up.”
“So what do they want from us?”
“The only thing we have that they don’t is a ship, and maybe power, and running water. And, I am presuming they have the last two.”
“They want the ship?” Erin gaped at him.
“Or they want to travel somewhere and they can’t without us. That’s my best guess.” Stryker shrugged. “The fact is even that is nothing but a guess. We just don’t know.”
“So, your conclusion is they either killed or captured the crew we are looking for?”
“It is. They would have no other way of knowing that we have something they want. But again, it’s only a guess and we have no way of confirming anything yet.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I’m going to call Thomas and see if he can fill in any blanks.”
Stryker plucked the sat phone from his vest and hit the speed dial button. Thomas answered in a crisp voice.
“We have a situation here.” Stryker got right to the point.
“Go ahead.”
“We were ambushed yesterday, and we believe they knew we were coming and want something from us.”
“Are you both okay?”
“We’re fine.”
“Who were the attackers?”
“We believe they were elements of the Mexican Army stationed in Ensenada.”
“Wait one; I am putting you on speaker.” Stryker heard the ambient noise from the base and waited a minute before Thomas again spoke. “I have my XO with me, so continue.”
“We need to know if the crew we are attempting to find knew our timetable or the route we would take.”
“They only knew that help was eventually coming, and the last comms we had was days ago.” The reply was immediate and Stryker knew it was truthful.
“We’ve concluded that they must want something from us, and the only way they could know what we have to offer is if they captured or killed the crew. They may have used the sat phone to call you, and it may not have been the captain of the vessel you spoke with. Do you have any impression of if that is a possibility?”
“I never met the man. His name was Baker and that matched up with our ship’s registry, but he had no accent and I have no reason to believe it wasn’t him.”
“Good to know, but doesn’t move us a step closer to understanding what is going on.”
“Maybe they used drones, the same way we did with ISIS.” Thomas said it slowly, as though considering the option as he spoke.
“Possible. But, if they did, they wouldn’t have attacked unless they wanted us and not something else.”
“Maybe they want Erin.”
“Not likely,” Stryker replied. “The attempt they made to kill us was very determined, and they were firing at her too.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Sit here and try to sort through this. I’ve been told I can’t engage in any more testosterone-driven brain farts.”
Thomas barked a laugh, Erin smirked, and Stryker grinned back at her like she was a precocious child.
“Keep us informed.”
“Will do.”
Stryker closed the connection and looked at Erin. “What do you think?”
“He’s telling the truth.”
“I think so too.”
They went inside, made more coffee, and walked back to the balcony. Stryker sat in his plastic chair and continued to watch the ocean.
Erin walked inside, found a book and settled down on the couch and flipped through the pages. Every so often, she glanced up and saw him rise, pace the balcony, and then sit down and sip more coffee.
Stryker replayed the entire battle in his mind. The ambush occurred when they left a small town and passed through a low cut in the roadway. The first volley hit the Humvee and shattered the windshield. It was followed by rounds that exploded all around the vehicle, and then Erin and he unassed their seats, grabbed th
eir weapons and ran up a small hill behind them. The attackers fired into the Humvee they left, and disabled it.
The fire that followed was uneven, and they managed to suppress most of it by stopping and firing at the hilltops behind them. They got to the ridge without incident, where they both fell to their bellies and waited for the assault.
The skirmishers moved toward them.
Then the battle stopped in his mind. He noted their positions and rates of fire.
It was all wrong.
He continued reviewing his mental tape and ran it twice more. He stood again, finished his coffee, and walked into the room.
“They aren’t Mexican Army,” he said to Erin.
She dropped the book into her lap and looked back at him.
“It was like they were people who read about how to do a frontal assault, but had never done it. The suppressing fire was inadequate, they made no attempt to have snipers keep us down, and they assaulted long before the base fire was established.”
“So who were they?”
“I don’t know. Maybe paramilitary drug gang members or some gang that reads about military tactics.”
“Well, what does that really mean for us?”
“It means there is a reason we got out unscathed. We’re facing a bunch of amateurs that want to play soldier, know a bit about it, but are probably not very good at it.”
“And?”
“We have another piece of the puzzle.”
Erin brought the book off her lap and began reading.
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Stryker asked.
“Yeah, formulate a plan, and then have your people call my people and we can talk.” She said it without looking up.
Stryker returned to the balcony and continued pacing. He looked inside and saw that Erin was no longer sitting on the couch, and he walked through the house and out the front door.
“Look at that.” Erin said. She pointed toward the house next door to the one they occupied.
Stryker glanced over and then stared at the front porch. It was covered with cats. They looked like a multi-colored undulating carpet and, in the middle of the spectacle sat an elderly woman in a rocking chair.
“I guess we better talk to her,” Stryker said.
“I’ll head over there and we can chat,” Erin replied.
“Weapons.”
“Okay, I’ll get my vest.”
“Bring mine too.”
Stryker continued to watch the elderly woman, who rocked back and forth with a gentle motion and petted two cats that were perched on her lap.
Erin handed him his vest and M-4. Stryker shrugged into the vest and strapped on his drop holster.
They walked toward the house and stopped at the base of the stairway that led to the porch.
“I guess I have visitors,” the woman said. She was clearly an American and plainly a native English speaker.
Stryker looked up at her. She was a tiny woman with silver hair, and her eyes were an odd yellow color. Her bathrobe was tattered, and she looked mildly distressed.
“No problems from us,” Stryker said.
“We just saw all the cats and wondered what was going on,” Erin added. “We haven’t seen this many domesticated animals since the die-off.”
“I kept my babies safe,” she answered. “And who are you?”
Stryker walked up the stairs, each step groaning under his weight, gently nudging cats aside with his boots, until he stood in front of the woman and looked down at her. He motioned Erin up, and she followed.
“You folks want to kill me?” the woman asked in a voice that no longer cared about the answer.
“No,” Erin replied, after placing a finger to her lips and looking at Stryker. “We just wanted to see if you were okay.”
“Well, a woman’s voice. What a pleasure.”
“We mean you no harm.” Erin wore a compassionate expression.
“Come closer,” she said.
Erin moved to her and stood in front of the chair.
“Bring your face down to where I can see it.”
Erin kneeled in front of her and moved her head forward.
“You have kind eyes,” the woman said. “And, you’re pregnant.” She nodded wisely before continuing.
“Please tell your gigantic significant other to not stand between me and the light. I can barely see as it is. That man must be seven feet tall.”
Stryker glanced to both sides of the porch and then moved closer, but away from the sun that created the shadow. “How could you know that she’s pregnant?”
“She smells like she’s pregnant.” The woman turned her head to one side. “But we need to go inside and have some tea.” She grabbed a battered walker from the side of her chair, groaned as she left her seat and walked slowly into the house with the yellow tennis balls on the feet of the walker squeaking as she dragged them across the floor.
Stryker looked at Erin, wondering what a pregnant woman smelled like.
She just shrugged.
They followed her into a house that was filled with another carpet of cats that reluctantly moved aside as her walker passed through the living room.
The room was sparsely furnished, with a couch and two easy chairs facing each other on either side of the sofa. Stryker glanced around and noted that, despite the large number of cats, there was no noticeable odor from litter boxes.
She moved into the kitchen and apparently put a pot of water on the stove, and then she came back. The woman sat in a large chair and two cats were immediately in her lap.
The whole thing struck him as odd: the fact the woman was next door to them, and the apparently meticulous house was maintained by someone who seemed to be close to blind. The cats all seemed as though they were groomed and well cared for.
He looked around the house and nothing about it set off any alarm bells. The walls were covered with vintage paisley wallpaper, the carpet was clean and the furniture, though old and worn, was in good condition.
Stryker glanced back at the woman and saw her hand moving inside the pocket of her dress.
Stryker glanced at Erin, who gave him a nod; as though acknowledging that something seemed odd, and then he pulled his XD from his holster, walked to the chair the woman sat in, placed the pistol’s muzzle against her forehead and waited.
“You going to kill me now?” she asked.
“I will if you don’t tell me what you’re hiding.” Stryker’s voice sounded like a distant earthquake growing closer.
“Well, I just pressed my panic button.”
“And who comes when you press the button?”
“Big Carlos.”
“Who is he?”
“The man who is going to kill you.” She looked up at him through eyes that clearly were not impaired, just yellowed with age and now glittering with hate.
“Why would you tell me that?” Stryker asked.
“So you’ll clear the hell out of here. I’m not anxious to have my house shot up and, to be honest, they aren’t very picky about who they hit.”
“Let me see the panic button.” Stryker held his hand out.
She looked reluctant, but plucked it from her pocket and placed it in his hand, but continued to glower at him with a fierce intensity that made Erin bring her weapon up and say, “If you’re thinking of trying something, my advice is to forget it.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she snarled back. “You two are as good as dead already.”
Stryker chuckled. “I’m going to have to kill you if you don’t get real useful to me, real fast. I asked you a question.”
“He was the drug lord around here, and he has a lot of men that are probably on their way here now. Best thing for you to do is run while you can. It won’t matter. They’ll get you in the end, but at least you can take a few more breaths before you die.”
“How did so many of them survive?” Stryker studied the woman’s face carefully.
“It was sort of a family busin
ess,” she answered with a sly smile, as though holding a secret. “They were all cousins, brothers, and uncles. They ran this region all the way to the border.”
“How do you know them?”
“I used to sell to the Americans that lived here. They were my suppliers for years and kept the cops away from me.” She chuckled. “Bunch of dumb-asses, those Americans. I would get them hooked and then gouge the hell out of them. They all came down here to enjoy a cheap retirement. Most of them thought they were going to spend old age playing golf and going to the club. But they all ended up watching satellite T.V. and bored out of their minds. It was like taking candy from a baby.”
“Well, I guess that rules you out for a citizen of the year award.” Erin sighed.
“I just did what we had to do to get by. These cats are expensive.”
“Did you really get all those retired Americans hooked on drugs to pay for a bunch of cats?” Stryker asked.
She shrugged.
“Why does Big Carlos keep you around? Your clients are all dead now.”
“Chickens.”
“Chickens?”
“Yeah, check out the back yard.”
Stryker nodded to Erin to look into the backyard and kept the pistol to the woman’s forehead.
“The whole yard is covered in coops,” Erin said when she returned. “She must have a thousand chickens back there.”
“They come here every day and get two or three and take them back to the base to butcher and eat.”
“How many members in the gang?”
“I guess maybe fifty,” the woman answered.
“You know if they have any American captives?”
“No idea.”
“Where is their base?”
“Ensenada Army base. It’s just south of the city. You really don’t want to go there though. Those boys eat people like you for lunch.”
Stryker lowered his pistol, but only slightly.
Telling Stryker not to do something was pretty much like staring at an amputee’s stump and telling them to not try to drive. It only made him more determined to prove the speaker wrong.
Stryker figured they had killed around ten of the soldiers the previous day and grinned at Erin. “I kinda like our odds.”
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