Feral Nation Series (Book 7): Feral Nation [Sabotage]

by Williams, Scott B.

  Three

  “WE CAN DO THIS the hard way, and try to find a shorter route on foot to cut them off, or we can take our chances and risk the road,” Eric said, as he and Luke stood there next to Wolf’s body, planning their next move.

  “Whether they wait for a while on that ridge in hopes of getting a shot or start back now, they’re eventually going to make for the vehicles. Our best bet is to get there first, whatever it takes.”

  “I agree. They know that you and Wolf are both expert trackers, but they don’t know if either or both of you are alive or dead since McCullin didn’t see you when he shot Nantan and Red. If they think we’re coming after them at all, they’ll probably expect us to be trailing them, and they may try and set up an ambush along the way. There are plenty of places for that. But the other thing is that they could have already pulled back. If they’re on their way out now, we’ll never catch them using an alternate route in this terrain. That makes me want to chance the road. We can take one of those armored pickups and take our chances; get to a point several miles to the north and then ditch the truck and make a beeline for the UTVs. We’ll get there well ahead of them that way.”

  “Unless they see us do it and get the same idea,” Wolf said.

  “A chance we’ll have to take.”

  Luke and Eric checked the vehicles parked in the shed, looking among the armored pickups the cartel had parked there. The most likely candidate for what they had in mind was a four-wheel-drive Ford F250 with welded steel plates covering most of the doors and the side and rear windows. There were additional steel plates affixed over the outside of the fenders, protecting the upper halves of the wheels and tires. The cartel had lots of experience using these trucks in running gun battles south of the border, and this one also had a mounted 50-caliber Browning machine gun in the bed just behind the cab. Eric figured whoever built it was inspired by news footage from Somalia and other terrorist states, where modified civilian trucks were in widespread use by local gangs and insurgents. He and Luke didn’t plan on needing the gun, because they weren’t expecting vehicular pursuit. Their main goal was to exit the compound quickly and avoid taking any rounds from McCullin’s sniper rifle if he were indeed still watching from the ridge. The armor wouldn’t be a hundred percent effective, but it was better than nothing and when Luke found the keys to the truck in the glove box, the choice was settled.

  After starting the engine and checking that there was sufficient fuel, Eric and Luke left the compound in a hurry, driving straight through the gate on the north end and staying centered in the middle of the road in hopes that any IEDs buried in the gravel would be closer to the shoulders. When no bullets impacted the truck or the surface of the road around them, Eric figured McCullin and the other two with him were indeed already on their way out, headed back on the long trek to the hidden UTVs to make their escape.

  "It's just like I figured," Eric said. “If we had waited around any longer, we wouldn’t have a hope in hell of catching them.”

  “Strange they didn’t wait very long to see if Weaver, Royce and Lee were coming back or not though,” Luke said. “Or to make sure they did their number on us.”

  “That’s probably how they planned it from the beginning. I know you haven’t worked with any of these companies, but I have. It’s totally different than regular military. It’s often every man for himself, and the lack of loyalty takes some getting used to. McCullin’s job was to take down as many of us as he could. He knew he got two, and even though he missed me, he managed to cut our number in half, and probably figured that was good enough. He left Weaver, Royce and Lee to do the rest, no doubt assuming it would be easy for them since we wouldn’t know what in the hell was going on. They probably already had a plan in advance to extract in two teams, and then rendezvous somewhere later with the UTVs.”

  “What a bunch of scumbags! Using us to help them carry half their gear and do more than half of their work for them before shooting us in the back and then leaving their own buddies to fend for themselves.”

  “It’s how they work,” Eric said. “I already knew C.R.I.’s reputation. They’re among the worst. I never thought I would associate myself with them for any reason but look at me now!”

  “You had a good incentive though. We thought we did too.”

  Eric drove on, leaving the compound in the dust around a gradual bend as the road turned to the northeast. There would be time to intercept McCullin and his accomplices if they could find an alternate route to the UTVs. Doing so would require a bit of cross-country navigation on foot, but the place they’d left them hidden wouldn’t be too hard to find, as it was near the head of a distinct canyon they couldn’t miss once they crossed the main dividing ridge separating it from the road they were on now.

  Eric didn’t plan to stay on that road any longer than necessary, not only because of the possibility of hitting explosives if the cartel had actually planted any, but also because there was a chance of running into other cartel traffic in the vicinity of the compound. Though the road had been mostly quiet while they were studying the place during their reconnaissance, they had seen one party leave in that time frame, heading north in two Jeep SUVs. Eric was in no mood for a firefight with more Mexicans. The face of the enemy had changed, and like Luke, he wanted to make those double-crossing Texas-based contractors pay for what they’d done. The anticipation grew as he drove, until finally, Luke said they should pull over and stop.

  “There!” Luke said. He was leaning forward over the dash so he could get a view to the west side of the road, the side window mostly useless with so much of the glass covered by the steel. “See that isolated peak in the distance? I remember the shape the day we headed out. We’ve come far enough on the road. If we set a course for that mountain, it’ll take us almost straight to where we need to be. I made a mental note of that peak as a landmark the day we hid the UTVs. We’re far enough north now that if we head straight for it, I guarantee you we’ll hit the upper part of that canyon.”

  “Good!” Eric said. “I don’t like being exposed like this anyway!” Eric pulled off the hard-packed gravel and drove the Ford straight into a nearby sand wash until it was thoroughly stuck, buried nearly to the axles. No one would get it out unless they came with another vehicle and a powerful winch, but Eric threw the keys far out into the surrounding scrub to make doubly sure it would stay put for a while. Then he and Luke set off at a running pace up the sparsely vegetated slope to the east, making for the crest of the ridge that separated them from the canyon on the other side. The larger peak that Luke had noted dominated the horizon in the distance ahead, jutting up from the surrounding desert floor like an island from the sea. Eric had noticed it the other day as well, because it was impossible to miss, but he hadn’t expected to be returning by a different route, and he was glad that Luke, the Apache tracker, ever-observant of all things in his surroundings, had made note of it for navigational purposes.

  Luke’s unerring ability to find his way in these landscapes inhabited by generations of his ancestors took them straight to the canyon just as he’d promised. They arrived at the rim not far from where it headed up, working their way to an overlook from which they could just make out the outline of the camouflage nets that covered the UTVs. Eric and Luke paused and watched for several minutes, looking for any signs of movement that would indicate that the three contractors had arrived before them. When they saw nothing and felt confident they’d indeed gotten there first, they made their way around to the place where the team had exited the canyon on foot two days prior and Luke signaled Eric to stay back and wait while he checked the trail.

  “There’s nothing but our footprints leading out. No one has been here since,” Luke smiled with the anticipation Eric knew must be brewing inside him at the thought of avenging his brothers. “We will be here waiting when they show up!”

  Eric and Luke studied the surrounding terrain and picked two concealed spots behind big rocks from which they would be able
to catch the three contractors in a crossfire as soon as they came into view of the hidden vehicles. Then they settled in to wait. Eric figured they’d be there most of the day, because it was possible that the men would stop somewhere and wait to see if Weaver and the others were coming, or perhaps even Eric and his friends, since they couldn’t have known the outcome of the final action in the compound from where they’d watched. But though he and Luke had arrived there a bit before noon and he was prepared for a long wait, Eric was surprised to see movement less than an hour later. It was them, and the three men had made good time, considering the weapons they were carrying and the difficult terrain, and they looked sufficiently winded for their efforts. McCullin’s spotter, Hawkins was in the lead, followed closely by Johnson and McCullin himself. But though they’d obviously been in a hurry and pushing hard, the men seemed relieved and unconcerned of any possible danger here as they rushed up to the UTVs and began pulling away the netting that concealed them.

  Eric had already agreed to give Luke the first shot, letting him make the decision as to which of the two accompanying McCullin would be the first to die. When he heard the sudden report and saw Hawkins go down hard, Eric directed his own first shot at the backup gunner, Johnson, taking him out with a round to the center of his chest. Since McCullin was the one that had killed Nantan and Red and was also the most senior member of the C.R.I. outfit aside from Weaver, he’d been selected as the unfortunate fellow they would question. Eric figured that when Luke was through with him, the man would wish he’d gone as easy as Hawkins and Johnson, but this was about more than revenge, as McCullin was the one most likely to have the knowledge and information they sought.

  When his companions fell to those first two shots, McCullin attempted to dive for cover, and if there had only been one shooter, he may have succeeded. But with Luke and Eric positioned high on either side of the exposed, open ground where there was nothing to hide behind but the UTVs, McCullin had little chance. Eric heard a scream when Luke fired again, and then saw him fall and frantically crawl towards the parked machines in an effort to avoid taking a second hit. He left his rifle where it had fallen in his haste to seek cover, but the unwieldy Barrett would have done the sniper little good in this situation anyway, and Eric could see him reaching for his sidearm as he crawled out of sight under the nearest UTV.

  “PUT IT DOWN AND COME OUT IN THE OPEN WITH YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM, OR YOU’RE DEAD, MCCULLIN! WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED FROM BOTH SIDES!” Eric shouted.

  When McCullin didn’t immediately comply, Eric put a round through the side panel of the Polaris he was hiding under, letting him know that he was by no means safe there. McCullin still didn’t budge. The man no doubt knew he would be given no quarter after what he’d done and was determined not to surrender. Eric wasn’t worried, though. There was nowhere he could go pinned down as he was with Luke also watching him from the opposite side. Sure, McCullin could do something really stupid, like try to get into the UTV to make his getaway, but he had to know they would cut him to pieces with rifle fire if he did that. Since they had more of the vehicles than they needed now anyway, Eric decided to turn up the heat on McCullin by shooting up the one he was hiding beneath. He took his time, firing slowly and deliberately on semi-auto mode, picking out targets like the lights, the tires and the instrument cluster. A 30-round mag gave him plenty of time to have some fun at a steady, controlled pace, and Eric saw that Luke decided to take advantage of the distraction, slipping down among the boulders to close in as Eric kept McCullin preoccupied with the incoming rounds that were chewing up the machine on top of him.

  Eric let up just long enough to let Luke make his move when he saw that the tracker was within a few yards. Either one of them could have killed McCullin then and there, but that wouldn’t satisfy Luke, and Eric had several serious questions he wanted to ask the man himself. The fact that McCullin still had a pistol didn’t deter Luke from moving in and dragging him out from under the Polaris before he realized what was happening. Eric saw the surprised McCullin try to twist around and bring his handgun into play, but he never got a chance. Before he could even get a good look at Luke, much less get him in his sights, Eric saw his head snap back from the vicious kick that Luke delivered to his face. McCullin dropped the pistol and in the next instant the enraged Apache dragged him away from it and was upon him, pinning him down to the rocky ground. Eric leapt to his feet and hurried down there, unsure if Luke would be able to control himself before he went too far and killed the man without getting any answers.

  When he got there, Luke had McCullin by the hair with one hand, the other holding the point of his 7-inch combat knife just millimeters from the man’s face. He was already demanding answers and McCullin was fumbling with his words, trying to talk but clearly disoriented and in a lot of pain.

  “Where’s he hit?” Eric asked, but then he saw that McCullin’s entire right pants leg and boot were soaked with blood, and that more of it was draining out of him, wicking into the thirsty desert soil beneath him.

  “Right in the kneecap,” Luke said, “exactly where I was aiming.”

  Luke’s precision shot had done a good job of taking McCullin out of action and preventing his escape, but he’d lost enough blood that he was in danger of passing out before he gave them the answers they wanted. Eric yanked his own belt off and cinched it tight around the man’s thigh, using it as a tourniquet to temporarily stop the flow. Then, he helped Luke carry the man over to one of the UTVs and prop him up in a sitting position against the rear wheel. It was time to make him talk, but McCullin already knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive; it was just a matter of whether he went hard or easy. Eric knew the man’s loyalty went only as far as the compensation he was offered. He was a soldier for hire and Eric had known many such men in his line of work who would turn on their employers for a better offer, and the one thing Eric had to offer McCullin was a merciful bullet that would save him from the wrath of his furious companion, who clearly would prefer to drag the thing out.

  “Who gave the order McCullin? Why were you supposed to take us out?”

  McCullin was stuttering, appearing confused as he complained about the pain in his knee. Eric and Luke both knew he was stalling for time, and Luke wasn’t having it. He brought the tip of his knife back to McCullin’s right eyeball, so close that Eric was afraid that if either of them breathed hard he would put it out. “This is the eye through which you saw my brothers in the crosshairs of your riflescope before you pulled the trigger. Why are you blinking it now, when it was so easy for you to keep it in focus when you made them your targets? When I cut off your eyelids and leave you staked here in the desert sun on your back, you won’t be able to blink it, McCullin. So, look at me now! Look me in the eye and tell me the truth: who gave this order?”

  “You know who I work for,” McCullin said. “Weaver’s the team leader, and he calls all the shots. So why don’t you ask him?”

  “Weaver’s dead,” Eric said. “But even if he wasn’t, you and I both know this wasn’t his decision. Who was it? Burkett? What’s he trying to cover up? Is he afraid that the information Nantan and the rest of us got from interrogating Chief will get out? Is that what this is about?”

  “Did you really think that asshole, Chief, figured out how to make those connections with Fronteras on his own? The planning for this has been in the works for a long time. Who do you think funds C.R.I. anyway? Did you really believe that we were only on the government payroll? Sure, we’ve got some guys doing some legit work for the Army, helping out in the hotspots where they’re limited in what they can do. Hell, Burkett even has us doing some of that, but it’s all just a cover. This is just business, Branson, but Chief decided he wanted to do a little double-dipping. Somehow, he made his own connections with a mid-level boss in the Sinaloa Cartel, and since Burkett and Major Langley couldn’t let that slide, that part you had right. That compound back there was a bold move on their part, but Fronteras isn’t going to sta
nd for competition, and since we work for them, we do all their dirty work on this side of the border.”

  “So, you’re telling me that Major Langley is in on this too?”

  “What do you think? The guy’s career National Guard. He’s been living in New Mexico his entire life. He’s no idiot. He saw the writing on the wall a long time ago with what’s been going on south of the border. Everything fell into place in the last few months though. It’s not ever going back to the way it was before out here, Branson, so the smart money is on working for the winners—and you and I both know that ain’t the federal government.”

  Eric’s mind was racing as the words sunk in. Everything Major Langley told him was potentially a lie, but Eric had seen Shauna, Megan, Jonathan and Vicky board an Army helicopter right there in his presence. Could he in any way be sure that they were actually taken to where the major said they were going?

  “Oh yeah, I wouldn’t worry about that,” McCullin said. “It’s not like Langley’s that far off the chain. I mean, he’s still got appearances to maintain and orders to follow. He avoids using federal resources as much as possible and doesn’t need to when he’s got all the C.R.I. capabilities under Burkett at his disposal. He would make a goodwill gesture like arranging military transport for a family of civilians, just because he can, and it makes him feel important, or still legitimate, somehow. Anyway, you saw them leave, Branson, so you can bet they got to that base in Texas at least. After that, who knows? Langley wouldn’t have any control beyond arranging that flight.”

  “Why should we believe anything you tell us?” Luke asked. “We all worked together with you and Weaver and your other men as a team, traveling all this way to take out our target, and yet you were planning this all along?”

  “It wasn’t my plan, man. I was just doing my job. I don’t make the plans and I don’t call the shots. It’s nothing personal.”