Shadow of Death (18 page)

“Colonel Lozano was on the take. Corrupt. Working with the drug cartels, you
capisce
?
Comprende
?”

Apo explained in Spanish hastily that El Gato recognized the colonel and that’s why the colonel tried to kill him.

“What happened to El Gato?” asked Lieutenant Santiago.

“He’s sitting right over there with his panties in a bunch,” replied Moose. Apo didn’t bother trying to translate that verbatim.

“Skipper?” It was Eric again, in Moose’s earpiece.

“Okay, get your weapons and fan out. Eric’s gonna take out the lead vehicle and shit’s gonna get real. Get ready to be meat eaters! Move up! LT Santiago! Get your men armed and follow us up into the woods, half on each side of the road.” He reached back and grabbed the lieutenant by his lapel. “I’m putting our asses on the line by trusting you, mister. You fuck me and I swear to God I’ll gut you like a fish.” Apo translated quickly, then pulled an assault rifle out of the back of the old pickup truck that was buried in the straw.

The Mexican Marines grabbed their weapons from their vehicles and followed the team into the woods on both sides of the road. They could see the cloud of dust being kicked up by four fast-moving incoming SUVs.

“Moose to overwatch, you’re cleared to fire at will. We have Mexican Marines with us. They’re friendlies, you copy?”

“Affirmative. Jon reports you and the Marines fanning out in the woods. I’m guessing the tangos will not be in BDUs. First shot going downrange in five seconds. Out.”

The team and Marines continued moving up and spreading out, finding cover behind the trees and shrubs on both sides of the road. A few large boulders provided cover as well. As soon as the first black SUV came into clear view, the 7.62mm sniper rifle cracked and the windshield exploded, along with the head of the driver. The truck veered left off the road and crashed into a thick oak tree that barely lost a leaf, even as the SUV folded up like an accordion. A second shot took out the second vehicle’s driver as well, and that vehicle picked up speed and rear-ended the first one, making them both spin across the narrow road. The third truck slammed on its brakes, but it didn’t help. Hodges put a round through the driver’s chest. Truck four also slammed on its brakes, and the doors flew open as the occupants jumped out and tried to take cover behind the vehicle. The last truck was stopped in a spot that offered no cover on either side of the road, only farmland, and the Zetas hit men were forced to hide behind the back of the truck as rounds began impacting around them.

Moose, Ripper, Ray, and four Mexican Marines began moving forward to the right flank, running at full speed to reach the two crashed SUVs before the occupants could recover and get back on offense. By the time they reached the smoldering trucks, the occupants who were still alive began trying to open doors. The team never hesitated, killing everything that moved inside both vehicles. The third truck’s rear right door opened and the only surviving Zeta jumped out, weapon in hand. He managed to level the weapon in the direction of the attackers, but that was as far as he got. Ripper double-tapped him in the forehead from twenty yards.

From the fourth truck, a sudden, steady rain of incoming fire began. It was an attempt at suppressing fire, but was wildly aimed and ineffective. Hodges began firing 7.62-caliber rounds at the truck, which began coming apart in dramatic fashion. The Zetas scrambled away from the SUV into the fields on both sides of the truck, occasionally firing in the general direction of the team.

Lieutenant Santiago and three of his men had moved up the left flank and began returning fire at the men in the field. As they traded gunfire, Ryan moved up the middle with Pete, scrambling past the destroyed SUVs and mangled bodies to the third truck where Moose, Ripper, and Ray were maneuvering around to outflank the Zetas with their four Marines.

Hodges hit another target in the field, knocking the man to the ground. At that point, the two men next to him sprinted in retreat. Once up and running, the Mexican Marines opened fire and finished them off.

Ryan and Pete immediately sprinted back to El Gato to make sure he was where they left him. He was still there, now in the fetal position with his hands behind him hooked to the tree branch, looking absolutely terrified.

The two teams went vehicle to vehicle, checking every Zeta body as they went. Zero survivors, zero friendly casualties.

Moose called back to Hodges. “Skipper to Big E—
outstanding
. You two check the area for any other activity and come in ASAP. Out.” Moose looked at the carnage and then at Ripper. “That jarhead can shoot. God
damn
. I’m glad he’s on our side.”

Ripper whispered to Moose, “And now that our friends are all armed, how ya think that truck rental’s gonna go?”

Moose nodded. “We’re about to find out . . .”

CHAPTER 51

Truck Rentals

Moose extended his hand to the Mexican commanding officer. “Lieutenant Santiago, my compliments. You and your men performed extremely well.”

The lieutenant stared at the man in front of him and took in his size. “Moose. I understand the name. You are special forces, no?”

“We’re a mixed unit. SEALs and a Marine Recon sniper who can shoot the balls off a housefly from a mile out. Plus that guy,” he said pointing to Apo. “He’s a ninja or some shit.”

Apo heard the conversation and laughed.

Moose looked back to Santiago. “Lieutenant, we still have a situation here. We need your vehicles. You also have some wounded and KIA up at El Gato’s house. We tried to stabilize your wounded, but we were in a hurry. I sincerely apologize for that exchange of gunfire, but that’s on Colonel Lozano, not us.”

“I’d like to contact my people up there.”

“Of course.”

Santiago barked at his radio operator, who jogged back to the Humvee and returned with an older model radio. He handed it to his lieutenant, who began a long conversation with one of the men up at the house—a conversation that became excited more than once.

The lieutenant ended the transmission and stared at the ground for a moment before speaking. “It’s a difficult situation,” he said quietly.

“I understand,” replied Moose. “We’re not your enemy, Lieutenant. And not all of your casualties were from us. The Zetas put up a fight, too. We need your vehicles. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind having you and your men with us either, if you’re willing to fight alongside with us. We’ve got two cartels to deal with, a package to find, and a clock that’s running down.”

“Package?”

“Yeah. That’s the tricky part. We’re not sure exactly what we’re looking for, but it came from Syria and it’s not a housewarming gift, you
capisce
?”

“Not exactly.”

“You know what ISIS is?”

“I’m in Mexico, not the South Pole. Of course I know what ISIS is.”

“Well, they worked out a deal with the Zetas—drugs for help getting a package here, then getting that package on to the United States.”

The lieutenant’s face showed his mind racing. “You think they sent a weapon? Nuclear, biological, chemical—something big?”

“Bingo. And we’ve got to find it pronto. We were hoping El Gato could lead us to it, but apparently your colonel double-crossed us, and the Sinaloas now have that weapon.”

“So you need to get to the Sinaloas—where, exactly?”

“Arista.”

“Driving will take too long. I will try and make other arrangements. It will require me getting authorization from General Ortega, who isn’t very happy with you right now, but I will explain the situation. It’s complicated. Lozano was his son-in-law.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” groaned Moose. “Holy shit. This keeps getting better and better.”

“I’ll make a call. Give me ten minutes.”

“You think you can get us to Arista by air?”

“The Mexican Marines are professionals, Senior Chief Moose. We
do
have helicopters.”

“Hey, man, no offense.” He pointed to the radio the lieutenant had just used to call up to the estate. “That radio was made in the seventies and those Humvees are leftovers from Gulf War
One
.”

Santiago shrugged. “Give me ten minutes.”

Moose was relieved to see Eric and Jon jog in from the woods. “Sit-rep?” asked Eric.

“Trying to acquire air mobile at the moment,” replied Moose. He stuck out his fist and Eric gave him a fist bump. “I’ll go to war with you any day, Marine. Damn fine shooting.”

“These guys cool? I mean, about the house. You know . . .”

“Trying to smooth things over. That colonel that fucked this whole mission was the general’s fucking son-in-law. Someone
might
have mentioned that to us.”

“Would it have mattered?” asked Jon.

“Guess not. Apo, get on the sat with Langley. Update Dex and get the location of your drone phone.”

“Admit it, you like saying that, don’t you,” said Apo with a big smile.

“James fucking Bond. With his drone phone. Maybe when it arrives you can call us in a few pizzas.”

“Hey, that doesn’t sound half bad,” said Jon.

Eric wasn’t smiling.

“What, you don’t like pizza?” asked Jon.

“You see what I just did?” Eric asked, referring to the carnage all around them. “Sorry—it don’t make me feel all hilarious and shit afterwards.”

Moose smacked his shoulder. “Understood. You kept your friends alive. Now ruck the fuck up, check on our peeps—ammo, comms, hydrate, give the cat puke some water, too, then reassemble on me. Jon, set up security with the scope and look out for any more visitors.”

Ripper listened to his partner with admiration. Moose was going to keep Eric busy and focused. After any firefight, the adrenaline wore off, the body started shaking beyond control, and the mind started working in hyperdrive. After-action was the worst part of anybody’s military life—those moments when you saw everything all over again in slow motion and had time to think. Eric had the extreme stress of watching
his
kills in high definition, magnified in his scope, as his large-caliber bullets took apart human beings, one after the other. Enemy soldiers or not, he literally blew them apart. It wasn’t easy on the human psyche no matter how hard-core or seasoned you were. This was Moose’s first time as team leader, and he was already instinctively taking care of his people without even having to think about what needed to be done.

Ripper made eye contact with his friend, gave him a nod of admiration, and then began pulling apart his weapon to perform a rapid clean and reload.

Lieutenant Santiago walked back to Moose. “The general is trying to accept the facts such as they are. You can understand the difficulty. He has two grandchildren by that man who are now fatherless, and a daughter who is about to get bad news and worse news.”

“I understand,” Moose said quietly. “And?”

“I think he’s trying to be objective and professional. Our wounded casualties are being medevac’d right now. Third squad has secured the estate and the Zetas have taken off for the moment. He’s ordered air transportation for us, much to my surprise. The helicopters are twenty-five minutes out. Best I could do.”

“You did great. I mean it—thanks, Lieutenant. We owe you one.”

“No, sir. You got rid of another corrupt officer and helped take out the Las Zetas crime boss, as well as a number of their soldiers. They’re murderers. The worst kind of murderers. They killed so many police officers and government officials that
no one
will stand up to them. An operation like this makes them look beatable. It makes other men step up and find courage to take them on. Without this kind of inspiration, my country is lost forever. You don’t owe me anything. You have my sincere thanks, and my apologies for the way our meeting began.”

“Never apologize to a man who tries to steal your truck. We’ll call it even.” They shook hands.

Apo walked back over. “How long we have at this location?”

“Twenty-five minutes, maybe,” said Moose.

“That’ll work. Drone phone is in the air, headed right to me. The shop has my GPS in their hard drive. That drone will find me and literally land right on me with the phone. Then we make a call or send an e-mail or something, and the mission really starts.”

“Our friends here will be joining us. We get to fly over the Mazatlecos and avoid at least one small war before going into World War III.”

“Isn’t it like World War IV or V by now?” asked McCoy.

The lieutenant shrugged. “The Mazatlecos usually bribe their way to get what they need. They’d rather pay than fight. They don’t usually use extreme violence. Or if they do, it’s against the other cartels. The Zetas and Sinaloas—they’re a different story. They like giant public displays of horror. They’re terrorists—no better than ISIS. They like to leave bodies everywhere. They
torture
my soldiers before they kill them. If we find them, there’s no mercy either way, you understand?” His faced looked hard and pained.

He continued, “When we get to Arista, if we’re going after Joaquin Salazar, he’s going to have a lot of muscle. We might need to arrange for another few hundred men. I’m not kidding. Arista will be crawling with his people. They have no fear of cops or
federales
. It will be all-out war, and they have better weapons than we do.”

Moose made a face. “They haven’t met us yet. Don’t you worry about numbers. Sit tight and just wait. We’ll get something set up with your friend Joaquin, and then we’ll clean house for you.”

Santiago looked at Moose and nodded. “Okay, my new friend. I’ve seen what you and your men can do. We have an expression here in the Mexican Marines. ‘I’ll go to war with you.’ You know what I mean?”

Moose smacked his shoulder. “Same exact expression in the States, bro. My men are very good at what they do. Trust me, okay? I mean, really
trust
me.”

“I just made a call to the general on your behalf, after you killed his son-in-law. Does that earn your trust?”

“Right on. Talk to your men. Get your weapons and comms checked and good to go. When the shit hits the fan, we need to be ready.”

“We will be ready, Senior Chief. We want our country back.”