She watched him exit the rear door and walk down the steps. It would be risky, there was no doubt, but in her operational days she’d done far more difficult. Then again, she’d also been considerably younger and hyperfit, her training ongoing and as demanding as any in the world.
But this time it was Matt and her daughter she was fighting for, not some anonymous target or nameless objective.
Which made all the difference in the world.
Chapter 34
Mountains northwest of San Felipe, Chile
“How can you be sure she’ll come?” Bastian asked Leonid, who was sitting at a rough-hewn wooden table inside the main outpost building, cleaning the Kalashnikov rifle Bastian had provided.
Leonid cleared his throat. “Oh, she’ll come. She won’t let anything stop her. We have her daughter and her man.”
“But she doesn’t know that. Not for sure. Even the news bit we planted didn’t specify exactly who had been captured.”
Leonid looked down the rifle barrel with approval and set it down on the table. “She’ll read between the lines. There aren’t that many possibilities. I don’t think it’s likely that she’ll ignore it. There was a reason I wanted their capture to be broadcast far and wide.” He shook his head. “She’ll come for them. The only question is when.”
“At least we’ll have plenty of warning. Did your men deploy the motion detectors?”
“Of course. But it would be best to get the soldiers out of here and let my group handle this. We’re specialists, and I don’t need distractions.”
Taking his cue from the Russian, Colonel Campos finished placing a sheaf of documents in his satchel and turned to face them. “Gentlemen, now that my part in this is done, I’ll be on my way. I’ve already spoken with Franco. I need to get my troops back to the port and deal with the fallout from this little escapade. I hope it was worth it. Three men wounded – which, of course, can be swept under the rug with the right financial incentives – but still, difficult to explain away.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I’m sure the Verdugos will be very appreciative,” Bastian said.
“They’d better be. My neck’s out a lot farther than I’d bargained for.”
Rodrigo stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “I’m getting out of here, too. I’ve got no dog in this fight, and I’m thirsty. Colonel, could I trouble you for a lift?”
Campos appeared uncomfortable and looked to Bastian, who shrugged. Campos nodded. “Certainly. But I’m headed to Valparaíso.”
Rodrigo smiled grimly. “I have unfinished business with Franco, so that would be perfect. I’ll find somewhere to hole up and see him in the morning.”
Bastian cleared his throat. “Valparaíso has some intriguing nightspots that might be able to accommodate you. I’m sure the colonel is familiar with some of the more diverting and can point you in the right direction.” Bastian approached Rodrigo and shook his hand. “We’re all on the same team now. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”
“Let’s hope so. The news of my father’s breakout was more than a little troubling.”
“Yes, and again, my condolences. Apparently there was little left of the helicopter after the crash. A sad day.”
Rodrigo shrugged. “He should have stayed in prison. But let’s not forget that Alejandro is still out there somewhere.”
Bastian sighed. “Antonio is attending to that personally. With your father out of the picture, the organization will be in disarray.”
“Yes, and many of my men are loyal only to me. Once the smoke clears, I’ll announce that I’ve negotiated a merger with your group, and everyone will be happy to see the long feud finally over. The combined entity will be much stronger than two battling families. It’s for the best.”
“A visionary realization,” Bastian agreed.
Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the Verdugo lieutenant much, and couldn’t decide whether he was subtly mocking him.
“Come, young man,” Campos said, checking his watch. “It will be a long drive over the mountains to Valparaíso.”
Rodrigo ignored the Russian – his dealings with Bastian were none of his concern. He was just glad to be rid of them all. All he could think of was his increased power now that he would run the organization, with his father and brother out of the way. A historical juncture, to be sure, and one deserving of being celebrated properly, starting with several tall whiskies, a taste of cocaine to compensate for the fatigue and a nubile young thing who could relieve the tension that had been accumulating all day as he’d been virtually trapped in the primitive outpost.
The collected Jeeps and personnel carriers roared to life and filed slowly down the dirt road to the highway, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The wounded had been airlifted out earlier which, combined with a series of hard questions from Campos’s command office, had decided his withdrawal. His story – that he’d pursued a group of smugglers – was as flimsy as any, but as long as he stuck to it he was sure he’d be able to bluster through. Franco and he had discussed it that evening by phone, and the gangster had agreed to contribute generously to making the entire episode go away.
Bastian watched their taillights through the window and then returned his gaze to the Russian.
“You feel like your six men will be sufficient?” Bastian asked.
“More than sufficient. Just keep yours out of our way and we’ll be good,” Leonid warned.
“As you wish.” Bastian had ten gunmen at the outpost, so he wasn’t intimidated by Leonid. He wanted to get paid, and he wasn’t about to allow the man to eliminate the girl and then disappear, which was the primary reason for his show of force. He’d have been just as happy to have been rid of the camp, but Antonio’s instructions had been clear: keep his eye on the Russian, play along, but don’t let him out of sight.
More troubling was that so far Alejandro hadn’t surfaced. While Antonio had sounded confident, if not delighted, at the elder Soto’s untimely demise while making his ill-advised escape, Bastian wasn’t so sure. From all accounts Alejandro was almost as dangerous as his father – nothing like the vain show horse Rodrigo. And having an adversary like that unaccounted for was troubling, even if Antonio was convinced that he’d be eliminated within a matter of hours.
His men had returned that afternoon with the equipment the Russian had requested – weapons, motion detectors, grenades. Bastian had been impressed with the Russians’ demeanors, their quiet competence and the methodical way they’d gone about laying their trap. A part of him thought the ambush overkill, but all he had to do was consider the pile of dead men the girl had left for him to clean up at the hotel to rethink that position. If hardened men like the Russians thought the situation serious, he wouldn’t allow his prejudices to color his actions, and he’d warned his men to be on the alert.
Two of the Russians had been deployed to watch the road, accompanied by two of Bastian’s in an uneasy alliance, and the remaining three were outside waiting patiently for the assault Leonid was sure was coming. How one girl could think she’d overwhelm an army outpost was beyond Bastian’s ability to grasp, but it wasn’t his fight. He was there to ensure they got paid, nothing more; his job was to watch the watchers.
Bastian glanced at Leonid, who was now inspecting the night vision scope on the AK-47, and shook his head. Overkill, he thought again, but if it made the man happy, it was none of his concern. Antonio would charge him top dollar for the specialized equipment, no doubt tacking on an additional ten percent to the already large fee.
This all assumed that the Russian was correct and the girl was bent on committing suicide.
Chapter 35
Santiago, Chile
The doctor was a smallish man with sparse gray hair and thick glasses, his pot belly bulging under his surgical smock. Alejandro, Hector, and Jet entered the guesthouse, which turned out to contain a fully equipped surgical suite and recovery room complete with vital signs monitors, air purification syste
m, anesthesia machine, autoclave for sterilization and a full array of surgical equipment that would have been the envy of most mid-sized hospitals.
“How is he?” Alejandro asked as he looked over at his father, who was lying with his eyes shut in a newish hospital bed.
“He’ll be fine. The damned bullet tore some of his intestines up when it fragmented, but I patched him up. In a week he’ll be good as new,” the doctor said, slipping off the smock and handing it to an assistant likewise garbed in scrubs.
“When will he be able to talk?”
“The anesthesia should wear off within another half hour. I’ll have him on morphine and antibiotics for the next couple of days, but beyond that, just no pole vaulting or wrestling till he’s healed.”
“Can we move him?” Hector asked.
“I’d rather you wait for at least twenty-four hours, so I can ensure there are no complications. I won’t take responsibility for him if he’s moved sooner.”
“Voids the warranty?” Alejandro said, smiling.
“Exactly. It’s all in the fine print, young man.”
Another physician’s assistant moved to Gaspar’s side and hooked up an IV. The doctor glanced back at him and gestured to the door as he felt in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. The irony of a doctor smoking wasn’t lost on Jet, but it seemed that, like the Argentines, most of the men here smoked, so she didn’t comment.
Outside he and Hector lit up. Alejandro waved away the offer of a smoke, and the doctor continued. “He was actually lucky. The slug glanced off a rib. If it had gone the other direction, his liver or, worse yet, his lung would have been involved.”
“That’s a positive, I suppose. But if he was really lucky, the shot would have missed entirely,” Hector observed.
The doctor offered a wan smile. “Still. He lost a fair amount of blood, but he’s stable now. I really think he’ll fully recover.”
“There are a number of important decisions he’ll need to make pretty soon. Do you think he’ll be up for it?” Alejandro asked.
“You’ll have to be the judge of that. I just stop the bleeding.” He took another drag on his cigarette and blew smoke at the overcast night sky. “Seriously, though, he might be a little out of it from the anesthesia and the morphine, but there was nothing wrong with his cognitive function I could see. He was swearing like a sailor when they brought him in and had a few well-chosen words for me. Something about cutting my manhood off and forcing me to eat it if I didn’t do a good job.” The doctor shrugged. “That’s one way to discourage malpractice. Very effective.”
“My father can be quite the kidder, as you know,” Alejandro said.
“Yes, he’s a regular comedian,” the doctor acceded, suddenly less interested in the discussion.
Jet and Alejandro moved away, leaving Hector and the doctor to discuss the price of morphine in China. Alejandro seemed concerned, but Jet had no words of comfort to offer him. His father would either make it or not.
“Sounds like you’re going to be running things for a while,” she said.
“I don’t have a problem with that. I’m going to call a summit of all the lieutenants tomorrow and map out a response to the Verdugos. Obviously this is full-scale war, and I see no reason to pull any punches. I didn’t ask for it, but I’ll sure as hell finish it.”
“And your brother?”
“That’s one of the calls my father will have to make. I want no part of it. But I do think he needs to be given a chance to explain.”
“Like you were given in the mine?”
“We don’t know he isn’t one of the captives. It’s entirely possible he is.”
“Sure it is. But how did the shooters know we were at the mine?”
“Maybe a tracking device in his clothes or his wallet? I don’t know. I just know I’m not going to have him…dealt with…without a chance to clear himself. But in the end, it will be my father, not me. He built this business from the ground up.”
Jet frowned. “Not exactly something fun to wake up to, is it?”
“Not a lot about this business is fun.”
She decided to change the subject. “Any luck on the list?”
Alejandro nodded. “We’re getting it all. Hector has sent for the two men he feels are best equipped for this. Both were in the Chilean army’s Lautaro Special Operations Brigade before joining our organization, so they’ve received the best training available. He has complete confidence in them.”
“Do you know them personally?”
“I’ve met them. They look like what you’d expect. Seasoned. No-nonsense.”
“Good. Will they have any problem taking direction from a woman?”
“That won’t be an issue.”
Thirty minutes later Alejandro entered the guesthouse and, after spending ten minutes with his father, emerged and waved Jet down. “He wants to see you.”
“Me? What for?”
“Let’s find out.”
Jet accompanied him to the elder Soto’s bedside. Gaspar looked pale but alert.
“My son told me about all you’ve done. It appears we owe you a considerable debt.”
Jet didn’t say anything.
Gaspar studied her, his gaze lingering on her bottle-green eyes. “He also tells me that you’re not done yet.”
“They’ve got my daughter. She’s two and a half years old. What would you do?”
Gaspar nodded. “I’d scorch the earth to get her back and crush whoever had taken her.”
“That’s a good description of my plan.”
“Alejandro insists on going with you.”
“It’s his choice. I’d just as soon he didn’t. Maybe you can talk him out of it.”
Alejandro rolled his eyes.
Gaspar shook his head. “He feels that going is important. I don’t have the strength to argue with him.” Gaspar coughed and flinched, his color graying. “He also tells me you met Rodrigo.”
“Yes.”
“Give me your impression.”
“I wasn’t around him much.”
“You feel that he is behind the attack on the mine?”
“It’s the only logical explanation. He was at all three attack points and refused to join us inside the mine for no reason. There was nowhere to hide outside.” Jet shrugged. “But there are ways to know for sure.”
“Such as?”
“Whenever you find him, check his cell phone for calls. I’d bet money you’ll find some to the Verdugos.”
“And if there are none?”
“Then I’m overly suspicious. Just one of my many character defects.”
Gaspar grimaced and looked to Alejandro. “Put out the word that whenever Rodrigo surfaces, I’m to be contacted immediately. No action is to be taken. I’ll deal with it.”
Alejandro nodded.
“And now, if you don’t mind, this old man needs his rest. Good luck with your daughter. My experience has been that coming between a mama bear and her cub is a risky proposition. Based on your performance tonight, I almost feel a little sorry for the men who took her.”
Jet’s expression was blank, but her jade eyes flashed dangerously.
“I don’t.”
Chapter 36
San Felipe, Chile
The fog that hung over the Santiago valley dissipated as Jet, Alejandro, and the two Soto gunmen drove into the foothills from San Felipe. Xavier and Simon were around Jet’s age and not particularly gregarious, preferring to sit in silence on the trip north. They were both dressed head to toe in black, as was Alejandro. He’d done his best for Jet and gotten her a black long-sleeved shirt and combat jacket, which would easily fit over the ceramic-plated bulletproof vests that lay in the back of the SUV next to the cache of weapons.
Jet had explained the approach they’d take as the driver, who they’d agreed would remain with the vehicle, concentrated on the road. When she finished, she passed Alejandro’s tablet to the men so they could study the terrain. Both had substantia
l climbing experience as part of their training, and as they asked short, on-point questions, her confidence in their chances improved.
The Soto watcher Alejandro had arranged for, who was monitoring the access road, had called earlier to alert them that the soldiers seemed to have largely vacated the base. Alejandro had placed a flurry of calls to his army contacts and gotten word back that no prisoners were being transported back to Valparaíso, so it was likely that the offensive on the mine was deemed over and the personnel were being redeployed, except for a guard contingent at the base, which the watcher said was still well lit and obviously occupied.
“This Colonel Campos caved to the pressure my contacts brought and pulled most of his men out. Hopefully that will mean far fewer soldiers and improve our odds,” he’d said.
Jet hadn’t been as sure, but didn’t voice her reservations. They wouldn’t know how stiff the resistance they’d be facing would be until they were in the heat of it, but she wasn’t inclined to assume anything but the worst – which so far had been the appropriate philosophy since hitting the Chilean border.
They made good time, and it wasn’t quite four a.m. when they rolled onto the gravel track that led into the hills, terminating near the trail that meandered to the base of the slope. Jet rolled down the window and let the mountain breeze caress her face, carrying with it the smell of grass and moist dirt, a welcome break after Santiago’s exhaust and asphalt. The driver ran out of road several minutes later and shut off the engine, and they piled out of the vehicle and moved to the rear to get their gear. Each would carry an American-manufactured M4 carbine with M68 CCO laser scope, which was designed to work with night vision goggles like those Alejandro had sourced. He handed out six thirty-round box magazines to each of them, which they fitted into their jackets and pants, and the now-familiar FN-750 pistols with three extra magazines of 9mm ammo. Four fragmentation grenades apiece, one RPG each for Xavier and Simon, and a satchel of smoke grenades completed their equipment, along with four bundles of climbing gear.
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