by Brent Towns
When Kane asked for confirmation whether to continue the mission, Thurston said, “The call is yours to make, Reaper One.”
“Copy that, Ma’am. Wait one.”
From behind the wheel, Arenas said, “The cartel will hang their headless bodies upside down for the world to see, as a warning for them not to send anyone else into their territory.”
“Do you think we can get to them before they do that?”
In answer to the question, the Mexican put his foot down harder on the gas. He asked Axe and Brick, “You fellers good with this?”
“I’m all for saving lives,” said the ex-SEAL.
“Axe?”
“I’m bored sitting around all the time. Let’s do it.”
Kane nodded. “Reaper One to Bravo.”
“Copy, Reaper.”
“We’re going in. Have Slick keep us updated. Any word on UAV clearance?”
“Negative on the UAV.”
“Copy.”
“Good luck.”
“Ma’am. Reaper One out.”
The SUV bumped along the streets as Arenas kept it at a steady clip. He reached an intersection and turned left off the main thoroughfare into a narrower side street. He sped up again, and Kane pressed his comms button. “We’re about two minutes out. Sitrep.”
Swift came over the radio and said, “Reaper One. It looks like they’re getting ready to execute the prisoners.”
“Copy.”
Arenas took the next turn at speed, and the rear of the SUV fishtailed before whipping back into line on the empty street. On their left, another street rose up and turned into an overpass. From the backseat, Axe snapped, “Stop here!”
“What?” Kane asked.
“Stop the hell here.”
The Mexican slammed on the brakes, and the vehicle shuddered to a stop. The rear door flew open, and Axe leaped out with his M110A1 sniper system. Kane rolled down his side window and shouted after the ex-recon man. “Where are you going?”
“Up!”
Kane saw the six-story building he was running towards and nodded. He said to Arenas, “Go. He’ll be fine.”
The SUV shot forward once more, and the last Kane saw of his man was when he looked in the side mirror and caught him disappearing into the lobby of the building.
Brick said, “What are we going to do once we arrive?”
Kane turned his head and smiled, instantly causing the ex-SEAL to regret opening his mouth. “We’re going to improvise.”
“And if that don’t work?”
“We’ll shoot them and go home.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Suddenly they were there. The buildings on their left stopped, and everything opened out, revealing the overpass and a mess of bodies dressed in dark blue with black tactical gear. An SUV was burning off to one side, while armed men covered in tattoos, carrying AK-47s, stood not far away looking up at a man dangling upside down from the overpass. His clothes had been removed, and he was hanging low enough for those below to reach him. Against the background of aged concrete and graffiti, the man looked unnaturally pale.
The vehicle skidded to a halt, and Kane said, “Lock and load. If you have to shoot, shoot to kill.”
They came out of the SUV, 416s raised and aimed at the immediate threats. Three men, all heavily-tattooed and armed with AKs started to approach them, seemingly unbothered by the new intruders. Probably because there were another twenty or so armed men behind them. What threat could three more be?
One of them stepped further forward than the others. He had a tattooed face and a gold-toothed smile. Kane figured him to be a shot-caller.
“I see we have Gringo heroes come over the border to interfere with cartel business,” he said in an assured manner. “Maybe if you get back in your car, we will let you go for this minor indiscretion. Yes?”
“Reaper Four in position,” Axe said in Kane’s ear. “Just say when.”
“Who are you?” Kane asked the cartel man.
“I am Marcius Montero. But mostly, people call me La Serpiente.” His tongue flickered out, revealing the crude split in the end of it.
Kane knew of the Sicario for the Juárez Cartel. Mean and bloody was what he’d heard. Well-known for the exact thing that he was about to do to his prisoners.
“What if we don’t?” Kane asked him.
Montero raised his left hand to shoulder height, and one of the cartel soldiers next to the hanging Federale stepped in close to him and cut his throat.
The dying man jerked violently before his struggles faded and then ceased.
“Motherfucker,” Axe hissed. “Let me put a bullet in this prick’s head.”
Behind him, Kane sensed Brick move further to his right so the ex-SEAL could clear his line of fire. Arenas on the left didn’t have to; his had been clear since they’d left the SUV.
“Reaper One, cleared to engage,” Ferrero said into his ear.
Kane took one last look around the area, mentally recording the positions of each cartel soldier.
Again, Ferrero’s voice came to him. “Do it now, Reaper. Slick just picked up a transmission calling for more men. They’re not going to let you out of there.”
Then Kane’s gaze drifted back to the smiling man. He said to Montero, “You ever heard the expression that out there somewhere there’s a bullet with your name on it?”
El Paso, Texas
Traynor pulled the Tahoe over to the curb and stared at the sight before him. Police cruisers, crime-scene tape, a medical examiner’s van, and reporters. “This isn’t good,” he said to himself.
The ex-DEA agent climbed from the vehicle and approached the crowd. He pushed his way through until he made it to the tape where a uniformed officer was standing. He reached inside his pocket and took out his ID. Traynor held it up and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Who are you?” the officer asked.
“Traynor. Worldwide Drug Initiative.”
“Never heard of it.”
“We fight bad guys.”
“Nope.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Nope.”
“Can I speak to someone in charge?”
The cop shook his head. “They’re all busy.”
Traynor sighed with frustration. “Look, I’m looking for a friend whose cell phone says they’re over there. I need information.”
“Can’t help you.”
There was a violent scuffle further along the tape between two reporters, dragging the officer’s attention away as he walked towards the brawling pair. With the officer’s back turned, Traynor slipped under the obstruction and hurried towards the crime scene.
“Hey! Who the hell are you?” a man called out. Traynor turned and stared at him. Detective.
“Stop right there,” the man growled and started forward. Traynor reached into his pocket again and retrieved his ID.
The detective was solidly-built and looked angry at the intrusion. He stopped short and stared at Traynor’s credentials. “Who the hell is that?”
“We fight bad guys,” Traynor said to him.
“Well, you can fight them over the other side of the tape. Get out of here.”
“I need to know if the body you have is one of ours.”
“How do you know we have a body?”
“I’m not dumb. I worked DEA before the job I have now. There is a cell phone pinging here somewhere, and it belongs to one of our own. It’s a woman.”
The detective asked, “What’s your name?”
“Pete Traynor. Like it says on my ID.”
“I’m Wallis. This is my crime scene. And to put your mind at rest, the stiff isn’t a woman.”
“Did you find a cell?”
The detective nodded. He reached into his pocket and took out an evidence bag. “This it?”
Traynor took it and said, “Yeah, that’s it. What happened?”
“We’re not real sure. There were no witnesses, and all we have is
the body of a Caucasian male who’s taken two rounds to the chest.”
“Is that it?”
“That’s about it. So, if that cell belongs to your friend, then it doesn’t look good for her.”
“You’re right about that. Do you mind if I get a picture of the dead guy?”
The detective nodded. “Sure.”
They walked over to where the corpse lay. Wallis pulled back the cover sheet, and Traynor took a picture with his cell. The dead man had brown hair, and two bullet wounds right where the detective said they were. Traynor put his cell away and said, “I’m done.”
“Listen,” Wallis said, “leave me your number, and if something else turns up, I’ll call.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Chapter 5
Ciudad Juárez
Mexico
The sicario frowned. “What the fuck you on about, puta?”
The 7.62 round whistled out of the emptiness and hit with the wet sound of an egg being dropped on the pavement. Montero’s eyes flew wide as his brains exploded out the side of his head and splattered on the ground beside him. A shout erupted from one of the Mexicans with him as he fought to bring his AK up to fire.
Kane’s 416 beat him to it, and rounds from a short burst punched into the cartel soldier’s chest. The dying man fell to the ground, and the Team Reaper leader shifted aim to focus on the second Mexican.
The 416s of Arenas and Brick opened up and spat lead death at the stunned cartel soldiers. Their firing was the methodical rhythm of well-trained operators used to being shot at. Not the panicked spraying which these shooters were accustomed to.
The second cartel man that Kane fired at died when a 5.56mm slug crashed through half-rotted teeth and deflected up into his brain.
Kane shouted above the gunfire at the two remaining Federales, “Get down! Get down!”
Whether or not they understood English didn’t matter for they seemed to understand what he wanted them to do, and they dropped to the rough ground.
The 416 in Brick’s hands fired twice, shifted aim, and fired twice more. A large cartel soldier well in excess of six-feet lurched back with two rounds in his barrel chest and two in his throat.
Meanwhile, Axe kept sending in 7.62 missiles with brutal efficiency, the image of the naked Federale with his throat slashed burned deep into his brain. He saw one of the tattooed killers go to hose down the prisoners with a Micro-Uzi, but before he could, the ex-recon marine put a bullet in his head.
Bullets kicked up grit around Arenas’ feet as a cartel man cranked out a full magazine from his AK. Showing no sign of fear, the former Mexican special forces commander brought a halt to the wild fusillade.
“Push forward!” Kane shouted as he slapped home a fresh magazine into the 416. “Push forward!”
The other two men moved with him as he started taking steps towards the prisoners as they tried to secure them.
“Changing!” Brick called out as his magazine ran dry. Kane stopped moving while the ex-SEAL changed out the empty magazine and replaced it with a fully-loaded one. Suddenly he grunted and dropped to the ground.
“Brick!” Kane shouted and hurried to his comrade, ignoring the swarm of angry leaden hornets buzzing around his head.
He crouched over the fallen man and checked for blood. There was none; the round had impacted the ex-SEAL’s armor. As he removed the vest and webbing, he said into his comms, “This is Reaper One. Reaper Five is down. I say again, Reaper Five is down.”
“What’s his status, Reaper One?” Ferrero asked, his voice unwavering.
“He seems to be OK. His armor took the impact. He’s just –”
Brick gasped as he sucked great gulps of air into his lungs. He coughed and tried to sit up. “Stay there,” Kane said. “We’ve got this.”
Brick moaned and did as ordered. Kane lurched back to his feet and brought his 416 up, relieved that his man was fine. “Zero? Reaper One. Reaper Five is OK. Continuing mission.”
“Copy, Reaper One.”
As he swept the scene before him searching for a target, Kane suddenly realized that there were no more cartel soldiers left. “Axe, sitrep?”
“Looks clear from here, Reaper.”
“Roger. Carlos, let’s get these Federales into the SUV and get the hell out of here.”
“Copy, Reaper.”
He hurried forward to where the two men were cowering on the ground. Reaching down, he touched one of them. “Get up. It is over. Hurry.”
One of the men looked up at Reaper, his face bloody and etched deep with fear. Arenas guessed his law enforcement days were done. He said to the man, “It is OK, Amigo. Help your friend to his feet. We need to leave before more of them come.”
The man nodded jerkily and started to climb to his feet. He helped his friend up, and they stood there shaking. Arenas pressed his talk button. “Reaper, these guys are in shock. They need medical attention.”
“Roger that. Get them in the back of the SUV and use the blankets from the cargo bay. Take them over to El Paso and get them to a medical center. Take Brick with you. We need to get him checked out.”
“What about you and Axe?”
“We’ll –” Kane stopped mid-sentence.
Arenas looked across at him and saw his commander staring away to his right. Approaching them from across the small killing field was a young woman with long dark hair. She stopped to check each corpse as she went. Through his comms, Arenas heard Kane mutter, “What the hell?”
“What is this, Amigo?”
“I’m not sure. Get those men into the SUV and wait for my word.”
Arenas gathered the two survivors while his commander walked over to the woman. As he did so, he said to Axe, “Keep an eye out. We’ll have tangos inbound shortly.”
“Roger.”
The young woman stood up from checking one of the cartel soldiers and seemed surprised to see Kane standing before her. She stepped backward and tensed as though she was about to run when Kane said, “Whoa, I’m not going to hurt you. We’re friendly. We were sent to help the police.”
Recognition flickered across her face. “You are American?”
“Yes. My name is Kane. Who are you?”
She stepped around him and hurried across to the next body. “I’m Doctor Rosanna Morales.”
“A doctor? What are you doing here?”
She stood erect and stared coldly at him. She indicated the bodies and said, her voice filled with sarcasm, “I don’t know. What do you think?”
Kane winced at the venom in her voice. “It’s a waste of time checking them. They’re all dead.”
“How do you know?”
“There wasn’t time to do anything else. Listen, you shouldn’t be here, you need to leave. There are more of them coming.”
Ignoring him, she continued her preoccupation with checking the next corpse. Kane cursed under his breath and said, “We have two Federales in our SUV. Both are in shock. Plus, I have a man who took a round to his chest plate.” He indicated Brick, who stood hunched over, still feeling the effects of the bullet. “He needs to be looked at too.”
“Reaper One? Bravo Four. Suggest you get out of there. Two vehicles inbound your position, over.”
“Copy, Bravo Four,” Kane answered. “Ma’am, we need to get out of here.”
“Why?”
“Because there are more cartel people coming, and if they find you here, they will take their anger out on you.”
“I had nothing to do with this.”
He stared into her brown eyes to get his point across. “They aren’t much going to care. Like I said, we have people you can help.”
Rosanna nodded. “OK, I will come with you. But only to help the men who require it.”
“Good. Thank you,” Kane said to her and then pressed his talk button. “Axe, wind it up. We’ll get you on the way out.”
“Roger. I’m moving now.”
“Zero? Reaper One. Copy?”
; “Copy, Reaper One.”
“Were extracting now. We’ll be bringing plus three.”
“Copy, Reaper.”
“Reaper One, out.”
By the time they were all loaded into the SUV, Brick was finally coming around. One thing was for sure; he would have a right pretty bruise at the end of the day. When they pulled away from the slaughter zone, the doctor was in the back of the SUV, checking on the Federales. Kane turned and called over his shoulder, “How are they doing?”
“You were right. They’re in shock and need a hospital.”
“Will they be right until we get them across the border?”
Rosanna looked surprised. “No one will see them over the border.”
“We’ll take them to William Beaumont Army Medical Center.”
“It will still be the same.”
“It’s OK, we know someone.”
The SUV came to a halt, and the back door on the passenger side opened. Axe leaped in and glanced over the back seat, taking in the passengers. He smiled at Rosanna and said, “Well, hello there, Senorita.”
“It’s Doctor.”
“I stand corrected,” he grinned and turned and stared at Brick. “How you feeling, buddy?”
“Like I forgot to duck,” he groaned as the vehicle hit a bump.
“I got shot once. Hurt like a bitch. Actually, make that twice. Or was it three times? I –”
“Axe?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
“Yeah.”
By the time they reached William Beaumont Army Medical Center, the nurses and doctors there were expecting them. Kane had called Thurston who went up the chain to General Hank Jones, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs.
They left Brick there with the Federales under protest. Kane assured him that there would be a beer waiting for him when he got out. “There better be.”
When the team left, they took Rosanna with them back to their HQ to be debriefed by Thurston. No sooner had they pulled up when Traynor came out to meet them, a grim expression on his face. “What’s up?” Kane asked him.
He paused for a moment and then said, “Cara’s missing.”
