Ready to Kill (26 page)

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Authors: Andrew Peterson

BOOK: Ready to Kill
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He pushed the thought aside to remain focused. The helipad’s fence became an asset. He could use it as a visual screen to approach the lumber mill. Beyond the wind sock, he saw the ominous black form of the mill’s huge gabled roof. The main building had to be forty feet high and at least one hundred twenty feet long. His NV registered the glow of the trees to the east, which meant at least one exterior light was on over there. Confident he was alone, Harv advanced to the office wall and flattened himself against it. He reached over to the air conditioner’s compressor and felt it for warmth. It was cool to the touch.

“I’m at the ore-processing plant’s office. No satellite dishes present. Stand by.”

Nathan gave him a click, and he eased along the wall toward the dark window. Before pivoting his NV goggles up, he took a slow look around. Even though the office was dark, he knew someone could still be in there. He placed his ear against the stucco wall and didn’t hear anything. Surprisingly, the window’s shade was only partially drawn. He leaned forward and used his NV to scan the interior. The tiny light on the computer’s CPU blinked sleep mode, providing one-second intervals of illumination. Excepting the digital scale on the desk, presumably used to weigh gold, it looked like a moderately furnished office. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at him. A door on the west side probably led to a bathroom.

Time to move on.

Harv walked directly toward the helipad, planning to skirt the fence’s eastern hemisphere. He wondered why the canvas covering the fence had an ivy pattern. Was it for aesthetic or tactical purposes? Whatever the case, it had prevented him from seeing it earlier. At the fence he peered over the top and saw the gate on its west-facing side. In the middle, a round concrete pad was surrounded by a sea of fist-sized river rocks. Smart, Harv thought. The rocks wouldn’t be disturbed by the rotor wash. No vegetation was present—not even a single weed. The fence didn’t screen the helipad from an elevated position, but it did offer privacy at ground level. Harv didn’t think Raven would be overly worried about anyone besides kids scaling the mountainside to watch the helicopter land and take off—what would be the point? Everyone in town could clearly see it as it overflew the area. As Pastor Tobias’s letters had indicated, it was no secret why it came and went.

Just north of the covered slab, Harv encountered the supply side of the canal and saw a well head and several large pressure tanks. Apparently, the pressurized water for the hose bibs came from here. Harv had no trouble stepping over the three-foot-wide channel. At the helipad fence he turned east and worked his way around to where he had a clear view of the lumber mill.

The illumination he’d seen earlier got increasingly brighter as he navigated the fence. Once he had a clear view of the mill, he made a TI sweep and didn’t detect any warm bodies. He’d expected to see a sentry.

The mill looked a lot bigger than it had on the aerials. The main building towered over the other two structures. Harv estimated it was at least forty feet high with a rectangular footprint of fifty by one hundred fifty feet. The smaller of the two buildings was on the south side of the property, and Harv saw light leaking from drawn blinds or curtains. He also heard the drone of an air conditioner, its noise originating from the far side of the small structure. A larger freestanding building was on the north side of the lumber mill’s property, likely the barracks where Raven’s men lived. A large parking lot to his left held half a dozen lumber trucks, a backhoe, a front-end loader rigged with grappling arms for moving timber, and some smaller vehicles that appeared deserted. He studied the area surrounding the office and almost missed seeing the satellite dish mounted on the wall. Half of its oval form was screened by a light-colored Range Rover. Harv saw an opportunity to look inside. Superbright slits of light came from the upper parts of the windows. With a little luck, he’d be able to peer inside, but he’d have to climb onto the Range Rover’s hood. First things first. He needed to disable the satellite dish. At this distance he couldn’t see if the coaxial cable ran down the wall or if it punched directly through the wall behind the mounting bracket. He’d know soon enough. He also needed to check in with Nate, which he did.

He froze when he realized he’d forgotten something critical.

Dogs.

He should’ve checked for them at the ore-processing plant as well.

If there were dogs outside the lumber mill’s office, they might hear his approach, even over the compressor’s humming. The TI would be better to see their heat signatures, so he switched devices. Watching for movement, Harv pulled his suppressed Sig, crouched, and issued a soft, high-pitched whistle. He waited a few seconds before repeating it. He knew his whistle might be heard by humans, but it was a risk worth taking. A tactical dog, or even a junkyard mutt, could put a world of hurt on him if he missed shooting it during its attack run—not a nice thought. When no dogs appeared, he hustled over to the office’s wall and nearly tripped over a rusted wheelbarrow concealed by weeds. He told himself to slow down. The fact that no sentries were present out here presented only two possibilities. They were either unwilling or unable to come outside. Perhaps Raven had given them orders to stay put. In a few minutes, they wouldn’t be getting any more orders, period. They were about to be cut off from the outside world. Harv saw where the coaxial cable disappeared through the wall. Clipping it with the wire cutters would be easy.

“I’m in place at the lumber mill’s office. There’s a satellite dish. I’m standing by to cut its coaxial cable on your mark.”

“Good work, Harv. Estefan, ninety seconds.”

 

CHAPTER 28

Franco fully expected to have heard from his men at the lumber mill by now, and his patience was stretched to the breaking point. What were they doing up there? He didn’t like being in the dark. The last update he’d received was fifteen minutes old. His bean-counting cousin inside the mill hadn’t reported hearing any additional gunshots. The three men who’d gone outside to investigate the single gunshot hadn’t come back yet. Franco felt uneasy about the situation, but getting irritated accomplished nothing. Santavilla was a small town, but it covered a huge area. Men on foot wouldn’t be able to patrol its entire expanse quickly. It could easily take forty-five minutes to an hour. And it was possible the initial gunshot could’ve been a farmer shooting or scaring off an intrusive animal. He was about to call the lumber mill again when his flip phone rang. He patched it through his BluLink adapter.

“Antonia, what’s happening up there?”

“I think he killed your men from the lumber mill. I’m really scared he’s going to kill me too!”

“Antonia, slow down and tell me—”

“He just saw me! I have to go!”

Nathan slammed the pay phone into its cradle. He’d been holding it for Antonia so he could also hear it. He keyed his radio. “Cut the lines now. You both copy?”

“Copy. It’s toast,”
Estefan said
.

“Likewise,”
Harv added.

Nathan scanned the immediate area as he prepared to escort Antonia back to the motel. The call with Franco served its purpose, but not in the way he’d planned. Nathan had heard a distinctive humming noise coming from Franco’s end of the call. It was a sound Nathan knew well and it came from a very specific place: the cockpit of a helicopter.

Franco was already in the air.

Franco heard a click, then nothing. “Antonia, are you there? Antonia!”

Shit.
Things were spiraling out of control. Franco called the pay phone back and let it ring ten times. No one answered at the lumber mill either. Where were they? The answering machine should pick up the call—unless it can’t. He called the mill again with the same result. The ore-processing center was also unreachable by phone. Like the lumber mill, its answering machine failed to pick up the call. The phone line had to be down, and Franco knew why.

Well played, Viper.

Using his other phone clipped to his knee-board, he sent an urgent e-mail to the lumber mill’s office.

If Viper killed his cousin, he’d make certain the bastard died an agonizing death.

And what about Antonia? She said he’d seen her.

He called his second-in-command at Macanas’s ranch in southern Jinotega. “Pastor Tobias’s son has made some trouble for us. Get Jaime and our three best men ready to go. I’ll be there in a few minutes. See if you can reach them by phone and patch me into a three-way call. Try to e-mail them. I want to know what’s happening up there.”

“Right away, sir.”

The air conditioner’s compressor on the north side of the office worked against Harv, severely hampering his ability to hear the presence of the enemy. He looked inside the Range Rover. If the vehicle had an alarm, it didn’t appear to be armed. He felt the hood for engine warmth and realized it was a pointless gesture—he’d done it purely out of habit. When he rounded the corner in a crouch, the drone of the AC unit grew even louder as he moved north along the office’s east wall. Identical in size and height, two more windows glowed around their perimeters. He ducked beneath them, reached the northeast corner, and peered around the corner. From here he could see the compressor unit and the mammoth form of the lumber mill’s main building. Rather than continue into the illuminated cone created by the light mounted on the building’s wall, he backtracked to the SUV, where it was much quieter. He still needed to clear the west side of the office. Since he hadn’t seen a door, it had to be on that side of the building. He was about to place an ear to the stucco when he heard the buzz of conversation. Whoever was inside didn’t seem too concerned about keeping their voices low.

Nathan’s voice on the radio interrupted his thoughts.
“We’re gonna have company soon. During Antonia’s call, I heard an unmistakable hum in the background. Raven had his phone patched into the helicopter’s NavCom, I’m certain of it.”

Harv took a knee. “I’m hearing voices inside the lumber mill’s office. How much time do we have?”

“Antonia made her initial call to Raven around forty-five minutes ago. Depending on how accurate your estimate of ninety minutes is, we’re halfway there. We can’t assume the helicopter or Raven were in Managua when Antonia called, so we could be looking at a much shorter time frame. Hang on a sec.”

Harv waited through twenty seconds of silence.

“Antonia doesn’t know where Raven was when she first called. He could be incoming at any moment. Like we discussed, I doubt he’ll land at the lumber mill, even with the screen fencing. It doesn’t conceal him from an elevated SP.”

“I need a few more mikes over here. I’ll make it quick.”

Nathan continued.
“Estefan, park your truck behind the church, out of sight as best you can, and double-time back here. I need eyes outside.”

“On my way.”

“I’m going radio silent,” Harv said. “Three mikes.”

“Copy. Three mikes.”

Harv heard the urgency in Nate’s voice but returned his focus to the office. Surely Raven had called his men about Estefan’s presence in town. Shouldn’t they be concerned in there? Their three friends had been gone for a long time. Maybe they’d been drinking. Tobias’s letters mentioned a chronic alcohol problem in Santavilla.

A more realistic and chilling explanation entered Harv’s mind—they had a sentry out here watching the area. It would explain why the men inside weren’t concerned about their voice levels, but it didn’t explain why Harv hadn’t been spotted by now. He ducked below the glowing windows and peered around the southwest corner. He was surprised when he saw no one. He smelled it then, the unmistakable odor of a cigarette.

Someone
was
out here.

He looked to the southwest and saw several houses, but the closest one sat at least one hundred yards away. The smoke he’d smelled seemed too concentrated to have originated from there, but the logging trucks were parked in that direction.

Harv tried to visualize the layout of the mill in relationship to the rest of the village. As he put the map together in his mind, he realized the mill’s office, the truck parking area, and the motel were all roughly aligned on the same vector. If Raven’s men did have a sentry posted out here, and if they believed Estefan was at the motel, then the trucks would provide a good position from which to monitor an approach from the motel.

Relying on the technology of his NV goggles, he turned the gain to maximum and kept his attention fixed on the area. He’d seen vehicle taillights reflect the glow of a cigarette before.
Come on
, he thought,
I need a break here
. He was about to do it the hard way and approach the lot without knowing where to start when the taillights of every truck came to life for several seconds before dimming and winking out. And the farthest left taillight was the brightest.

He switched to the TI.

“Got you,” Harv said. He now knew exactly where the sentry was—sitting in a backhoe and facing the motel. As luck would have it, the machine was parked in the middle of an expanse of gravel.

He could attempt a stealthy approach to the sentry’s position, but it would be next to impossible to traverse the gravel silently. Adding to the degree of risk, he’d be stuck out in the open for most of the crossing. If the sentry turned around to check his six, Harv would be blown and he’d have to shoot the guy, something Nathan wanted to avoid.

He keyed his radio. “There’s a sentry in the truck parking area on the south end of the mill’s property. I’ll need Estefan’s help if you want me to take him down without shooting him.”

“Affirm. Nonlethal force unless absolutely necessary. Estefan, coordinate with Harv. I’ll sit tight with the girl.”

“I’m parking behind the church right now.”

Harv said, “Estefan, bring G3’s assault rifle with you. How long?”

“Two mikes.”

“Standing by. Two mikes.”

Raven made a flawless approach to Macanas’s compound in southern Jinotega. He set the Bell 429 down on the concrete pad, throttled down to idle, and watched his men jog over from the small hangar. Ducking low, they climbed into the passenger compartment. The ship could carry seven passengers, but he wanted only five men, including himself, for tonight’s operation.

Thirty seconds after touching down, he lifted off and flew a course of 18 degrees toward Santavilla.

Fortunately, Macanas spent the majority of his time at his mansion in Managua, and that’s where he was right now. Raven didn’t plan to tell his boss the Tobias situation had escalated. Antonia said she’d thought Estefan had killed his men. She hadn’t said it with certainty, though. Either way, he intended to end this unfortunate chain of events tonight and bury Estefan Delgado.

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