Obsession (25 page)

“What the hell is going on?”

Alejandro filled her in. “The crazies will be on high alert now. Forget the stealth attack. We might as well go for a full frontal assault.”

“Do we have enough men?”

“If we include Angie, we have about four dozen shooters. The Indians saw only five sentinels. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t more inside the compound.”

She nodded. “What about rocket launchers?”

“Aside from the fact that we could harm the missing girls and the baby, Angie told me there are a thousand innocent people up there.” He shook his head. “Their only crime was to follow a crazy man. You don’t want another Waco.”

The brunette looked puzzled.

“Back in the early nineties, a religious zealot named David Koresh had a compound in Waco, Texas. The feds decided he was stockpiling guns and ammo, so they executed a search warrant. Next thing you know, a couple of agents got shot. All hell broke loose. Over seventy-five civilians burned alive in a firestorm, including two pregnant women.” He shook his head. “A lot of them were children. It was a holocaust.”

“
Madre de dios.
” She squeezed her eyes shut. “The thought makes me sick.”

“Me, too.” He hadn’t been part of the ATFE at the time, but the aftershocks of Waco still resonated through the bureau. A towering example of what not to do, the Branch Davidian “incident” was testimony to the banality of bureaucratic arrogance and evil. Now the agency taught trainees to take every precaution available to protect innocent lives, to avoid epic disasters. The arrogance of some of the higher ups, however, remained.

Red hair pulled back into a ponytail, Angie appeared at his side.

“I heard about the scouts. What are we going to do?”

Dressed in desert camouflage, knee high boots, and smacking a pair of gloves on her palm, she looked as if she was about to jump on an ATV and head for the cult compound.

“We were just discussing that.”

His brain spun with a thousand scenarios, none of them optimal. Adding to the complexity of the current state of affairs, he still hadn’t come up with a plan to keep the US-Mexico cooperative Special Response Teams away from Edmondsville to avoid a Waco redux. With two hyped up police military teams in the mix, the entire place could erupt into a fireball. He had to do something. But what?

Think, man, think. Time is running out.

“Boss,” Tio stomped over to Isabel. “Gotta talk to you and Alejandro. We have a situation.”

Alejandro did not like the tone of Tio’s voice. With two dead scouts, a looming ATFE strike force, and a thousand cult members milling around, God only knew where, or what else could go wrong.

Tio moved away from the weeping crowd of natives and huddled with Isabel and Alejandro. “Remember the mole we planted with our friends on the west coast?”

The Latina nodded. “Yes. What about him?”

“Just got a call. Our competition has decided to move a huge shipment of product to Tijuana and San Diego.”

“Those bastards.” She spat on the ground. “They know that’s our turf.”

His face grave, Tio nodded. “There’s more. And it gets worse.”

Isabel frowned. “We’re distracted over here. They’re over there, with no possibility of cutting them off. How could it possibly be worse?”

The big guy shook his bald head. “They have subs.”

“A sub? A freaking submarine?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Where the hell did they get one?”

Alejandro took a deep breath. A drug sub. Not enough the Colombians had been using them to run cocaine up the east coast, now Isabel’s Mexican competitors had decided to invest in one. The ones the Colombians had built had been crude at first, good only for one man, one run. But their later efforts had been quite ingenious.

“One sub? How many men does it hold?”

“Not one.” Tio looked as if he would truly throw up. “Our mole said it was a freaking
fleet
. Ten. Each one holds five guys.”

Larger subs had been seized in other South American countries. The cartels were going high tech. What was next? Shipping the shit by space shuttle? He shuddered at the thought of orbiting cocaine.

“That’s a lot of blow.” He did some quick calculations in his head. “If they used the Colombians’ building plans, the subs are a hundred feet. They could be moving as much as seventy-five tons of coke.”

The color drained out of Isabel’s face. “After they make that delivery, they’ll come after me and my family. I have to get Sean and the kids out of Chihuahua, back to the US where they’ll be safe.”

Alejandro lifted his chin at Tio. “Did your informant give you any idea of when and what route they’d take?”

“They move out at midnight tonight. Taking the scenic route along the outside of the peninsula from Culiacan to Ensenada.”

With two dozen marinas on the west coast between Ensenada and Huatulco, they could literally hide ten subs anywhere in plain sight. The best time for the combined ATFE forces to strike would be midnight, just as the subs left Culiacan.

“Tio, tell Pepe and the rest of the troops to get ready. We attack Edmondsville at dawn.”

Tio looked to Isabel for confirmation.

She nodded, her long dark hair swirling in a light breeze. “Do what he says, Tio.”

After the big man lumbered away, she confronted Alejandro. “What about the subs? If we don’t take care of them, my family’s in danger.”

He grinned. “I’m gonna drop a dime.”

“You’re joking, right? The Mexican
federales
are a bunch of incompetent idiots. They don’t have the ability to find their asses with both their hands, much less find and take out those subs.”

“You’re right. But the US does.”

Her eyebrows practically flew off her face. “How?”

“When I was in prison, I received a lot of offers for deals if I’d roll over on some people.” He shrugged. “I never took them up on any of their offers. Maybe it’s time I did.”

“I’ve got kids to protect.” Brow furrowed, she chewed her lower lip. “You sure this will work?”

If all went well, his boss would earn extra brownie points for scoring an amazing piece of intelligence and making what might be the drug bust of the century. Best of all, they’d be out of his hair so Alejandro could focus on the job at hand—rescuing a dozen young Tarahumara women and a baby.

He gave her the thumbs up. “Your competition will never know what hit them.”

Chapter Nineteen

Zeke Edmonds sat on his throne in the grand chamber, stared at the giant blue and white emblem of his congregation, and pondered his options. With the natives’ bodies disposed of in a bottomless well, if any police ever showed up, they’d never find them. But what to do about the other Indians who got away? He couldn’t assume they would run home to their little villages and stay there.

For all he knew, tens of thousands of natives could emerge from their caves, valleys, and mountains, and swarm Edmondsville—their sheer numbers crushing him and his followers. Zeke was a man of God, had never carried a weapon, nor had he ever served in the military. But he knew someone who had. He sighed and motioned to his security chief.

The man inclined his head and whispered, “Yes, Father?”

“Bring me Brother Aaron.” He paused. The former army engineer might be more willing to help if he knew he was forgiven. “Let him put on clean clothes. Release his wife.”

“Yes, Father.” The big man hustled out of the meeting room.

“Sure you want to do that?” Miriam’s voice rasped in his ear. She squeezed onto the seat alongside him. “I thought he was a traitor.”

“Woman, what would you have me do? Keep one of the best minds in Edmondsville locked away, useless to us?” He eyed his wife. A hint of a smirk played on her lips. “What’s so amusing?”

“Seems odd you’d release your mortal enemy so soon. He could be your undoing.”

A frisson ran along his spine. He tried to shake off the chill. Zeke knew she meant to be spiteful, but there was a kernel of truth in her remark.

“Crises make for strange bedfellows. When this is all over, we’ll see if he’s loyal or a traitor.”

“And?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll do what needs to be done.”

Miriam was taking up too much space, filling up
his
throne. As soon as this was over, she had to go. There’d be no need for her in the End Days. Not when he had the Mothers of the Twenty-Four to attend to his—and the baby’s—needs.

“Father,” the chief of security called.

Zeke blinked. Bruised and battered, Brother Aaron stood before him in clean clothes.

Zeke raised his voice so all could hear him. “We had intruders this morning. I worry more may come.”

With his gaunt cheeks, and haggard appearance, the man who once looked as if he could play football now resembled the walking dead.

“What is it you want me to do?”

Zeke lowered his voice. “You were in the military. We need a plan of defense.”

Brother Aaron guffawed. “I was in the US Army Corps of Engineers. We
built
things. You’re better off asking for help from your head thug. He was a sheriff.”

“He deferred to you,” Zeke spoke through clenched teeth. “Are you saying you won’t help us?”

“I never served in a conflict. I dredged harbors, managed waterways, and built dams.”

Zeke covered his face with his hands.

“I told you so,” Miriam whispered, her hot breath scalding his neck. “He’s useless.”

“Go tend to the Chosen One.”

“Sister Rose is with him.” Miriam cackled. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Pride goeth before a fall, Father.”

He had to get away from her. “Brother Aaron, join me in my chambers please.” He gave Miriam a pointed stare. “Alone.”

He nodded to the security chief.

“I need your men to stand guard up top. Arm as many of our members as possible. We don’t know when the Indians are coming, or how many of them there will be. But they
will
be back.”

****

Two lanterns glowed atop the table Alejandro had dragged out of the cabin for planning the strategy session. Isabel, Tio, Pepe, Alejandro, Angie, Julio, of beer brewing fame, and Sister Teresa stood in a circle awaiting Alejandro’s plans. The nun would not be entering into armed conflict, but she had been adamant about being in on the planning. Alejandro mentally shook his head at the motley crew.

Lord, if you exist, we need all the help we can get.

“Right now, I’m betting the old man is scrambling.” He set a rock down in the center of the map of Edmondsville and the surrounding terrain.

“Edmonds has the advantage of the higher elevation. We have the element of surprise.”

Alejandro used a stick to point to their location.

“We’re here, about fifteen miles away. We can’t run there in three hours like our friend, Julio, but we can get there before dawn on our ATVs. With our camouflage, they’ll hear us coming, but they won’t be able to see us. We have more than enough handguns and long distance rifles for all thirty-six of our trained shooters. Plus a lot of ammo.”

Angie interjected. “But we don’t want to hurt Jake, the girls, or any unarmed members of the cult. So tell your men not to shoot unless they are in imminent danger. It’s critical for them to understand this isn’t a war. It’s a rescue.”

Isabel snorted. “A rescue with three dozen of us to a thousand of them. Great odds.”

“You forgot about Julio’s buddies.” He nodded at Sister Teresa.

The nun picked up where he left off.

“We sent a dozen runners to the Tarahumara village and all the surrounding ranchos. They’ll meet you tomorrow at dawn at the base of the Edmondsville bluff.”

“Once we arrive, the three surviving scouts will lead us up the side of the mountain and through the caves that honeycomb the compound. That’s how the scouts got into Edmondsville the first time.”

“But this time,” Tio said with a wicked grin, “they’ll have friends.”

Alejandro took some more questions and when it seemed all were satisfied, he closed the meeting. “Tell your men to try to get some sleep. We need to be up and out in two hours.”

The group dispersed leaving Alejandro and Angie facing each other across the table. The flickering light from the lantern cast shadows on her face. He could see she was on edge and there was no way he was going to be able to sleep.

“Want to take a walk?”

She smiled. “Trying to take me to see your etchings again?”

“Maybe,” he drawled. “Or maybe I just want to talk with you. Is that okay?”

“I hear the stream looks nice by moonlight.”

Running over boulders and between the crannies of the hard surfaces, the water chuckled as if it had a private joke with the rocks. Alejandro took Angie’s hand and helped her perch on a boulder next to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Excited. Elated. Terrified. All of my worst nightmares combined into one horrific sweaty mass.”

She shook her head and covered her face.

“My mother is just as crazy as my father. Any illusions I had about her were shattered last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do not tell Isabel I shared this with you. It’s very private.”

Angie began to recount her conversation with the tipsy Isabel during the
tesguinada
.

“Halfway into this, she asks me, ‘Did your father ever touch you, you know, the wrong way?’ All of the memories that I tried to keep under wraps and repress for years exploded. Not only did my father rape me on a regular basis, my mother knew what he was doing. She called me a liar when I tried to tell her.”

A tear trickled down her face. He leaned over and kissed the tear away.

“I’m so sorry. No one should be violated like that. And no one should have their reality invalidated. Your mother should have protected you.”

Her shoulders shook. “Yes, she should have. That’s why I really went into law. Not to support my father’s insane idea of taking over the government. I wanted to put both of them in jail. Then I met someone.” She paused. “I was a public defender. He was like you.”