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The man stepped out in front of him. “You should go back to your room, Señor Alex,” he repeated, this time sounding more threatening.

  Apo threw his head back and laughed, then patted the man on his shoulder. “I told you, I’m starving! Where’s El Gato? I need to have a drink with him.”

  The man pulled out a .45 and put it under Apo’s chin. “I don’t want to have to tell you again.”

  “Hey! That’s no way to treat a guest!” slurred Apo.

  El Gato appeared from the shadows and snapped at his guard. “Enough!”

  He walked across the room and faced his guest. “Pardon the extra security, it’s been a strange day. I’m afraid I can’t drink with you now, my friend. You’ll need to go back to bed.”

  “Is everything okay?” Apo asked. He leaned forward and, with his best scared, drunk expression, he asked, “Cops?”

  “No. Everything’s fine, Alex. Go back to bed. I’ll see you get a nice breakfast before you head out. It’s only a few hours until sunup—you should get some sleep anyway. Go.”

  Apo raised his hands and mumbled, “Okay, okay, sorry. That tequila was too good. I think I drank too much.” He burped and bumped against the wall, then shuffled back toward his room with one of El Gatos’ guards slowly walking behind him. The guard tailed him all the way back to his room and watched Apo slip back inside.

  The two young girls were still sleeping in his bed, and Apo stood for a moment to be sure they were both really out. When he was satisfied, he grabbed his sat-phone from his bag and tapped out a message:

  Gato on alert. Minimum 20 tangos inside waiting. Abort. Something’s wrong.

  Apo hit “send,” deleted the message, and sat in a chair with his phone.

  ***

  Less than a half mile from where Apo sat in his chair, the team was hunkered down in the thick foliage scanning for sentries. Moose’s wrist buzzed and he tapped it for a message.

  “Shit.” He looked at Ripper. “We’re compromised. Apo says abort.”

  “Abort? We’re practically in his fucking living room!”

  “He says Gato has a security force inside. They’re on alert.”

  Ripper’s face showed his anger. “I thought only a couple of people at the very top knew about this op?”

  “Welcome to Mexico. Now what?”

  They sat in silence for a moment, then Ripper called to Pete. “Papa Mike. Bring the sat.”

  Pete McCoy moved silently through the woods and squatted next to Moose, handing him the satellite phone. He opened the small umbrella-shaped antenna and aimed it at the heavens.

  Moose pressed the number for HQ and hit the “send” button, which rang in Langley. A surprised Dex Murphy picked it up.

  “Dex here.”

  “Problem. Apo’s inside. He sent a warning. Gato’s expecting us. Has his security force inside waiting. Mexican Marines should arrive soon, which will tip them off. If we hit it now, Gato either escapes or dies in a firefight. We’re also outgunned until the Marines show up. What do you want me to do?”

  Dex exhaled slowly. “Fuck.”

  “Roger. That’s affirmative.”

  “We need Gato, Moose. The package could be anywhere.”

  “Roger. We’ll Charlie Mike. Out.”

  Moose handed the phone back to Pete, who secured it back in his pack along with the folded-up antenna.

  “Okay, team. Surprise is partly blown, but Langley needs that package. We continue mission. Big E. Need you and Ray to find your perch that gives you eyes inside the house. Rear of the house is glass. Start moving around back. I’m deploying the drone. Should have a sit-rep for you by the time you find a spot.”

  “Aye, aye,” whispered Eric. He and Ray began moving forward through the thick foliage using their night-vision goggles in the total darkness. Moose unzipped his pack and pulled out the dragonfly that Apo had given him back in Langley. He positioned the legs to the “on” position and turned on his small handheld tablet, marking the rear section of the house for recon. He threw the bug gently into the air, and it miraculously began flying, taking off toward the house.

  Moose and Ripper smiled at each other. Moose leaned closer. “I feel like James fucking Bond.”

  “Gucci gear. I love it. Maybe we’ll get laid at the end of the movie?” said Ripper.

  “If we ain’t dead,” replied Moose. They sat and watched the screen as the mini drone zipped over the rear yard and began scanning with its night vision. In the darkness, bodies began lighting up in green, hidden around the pool and landscaping.

  “Son of a bitch, greeting committee is all over the yard.” Moose tapped the house on the screen, and the dragonfly began buzzing closer to the building. It dropped a few feet and began looking inside the rear of the house.

  “Shit. Apo wasn’t kidding. They’ve got an army in there all right.”

  “Now what?” asked Ripper.

  “The only easy day was yesterday,” said Moose with a smile. “Big E, you copy?”

  “Five by five, Skipper.”

  “A dozen tangos in the rear yard. Mostly in the landscaping around the perimeter. How’s the approach?”

  “Approach all clear to the rear yard.”

  “Roger. We’re moving up. Keep your eyes open. We’ll get in position and get back to you. We’ll take them nice and quiet, one at a time. Can you see inside the house?”

  “Negative. Not close enough yet. Too many trees. Working our way up. When I get eyes on the rear of the house, I’ll let you know.”

  While Ray and Eric were working their way to the rear of the house, Moose, Ripper, Pete, Jon, and Ryan fanned out and moved up the wooded slope. The grade wasn’t too steep, and the foliage provided plenty of cover. Moose kept checking the tablet as he moved through the woods. He squatted and, through the dragonfly’s camera, looked through the rear windows at a couple dozen bodies that lit up in the dark. They were moving about slowly and had weapons.

  “Listen up. Remember, we need Gato alive. Kill everything you see, but we have to capture him alive. Kneecap him if you have to, but keep him breathing. Let’s take the targets outside first, real quiet. When we hit the house, it’s gonna go loud, and the Mexi Marines will be right behind us. When it gets loud, get inside and take this place down fast. Out.”

  Moose and his men moved up to the edge of the woods and stopped. They dropped their packs and pulled out only what they needed for the assault. Two guards were seated on a large, decorative boulder near the pool. The team began scanning around the yard for a place to hop the fence. Jon belly-crawled twenty yards along the fence line with Pete right behind him. Jon climbed up Pete’s back at the base of the fence and used cutters to get through the concertina wire. Every snip of the cutters made them freeze, waiting for someone to come running, but they were out of earshot. Once he had a small section cleared, Jon clambered over the top and dropped down into the grass. Pete hoisted himself up the black wrought-iron fence and followed him over, and then the two of them belly-crawled toward the two guards. They pulled their black KA-BARs and moved in for the kill.

  Moose looked over at Jon. “When it gets loud, grab the blooper and put some deadly accurate fire on those fuckers, but remember, we need Gato alive.”

  “Wilco,” Jon whispered.

  CHAPTER 37

  Arista

  Mustafa was tied to a chair, completely naked. He was covered in sweat and blood. The Sinaloas had given him a good beating just to let him know they meant business. None of them could understand a word he said, anyway. It took three hours for them to find a translator and drive him back to the warehouse where Mustafa was being held.

  The interpreter, a Jordanian man who ran a small grocery store a few towns over in Arriaga, arrived at the same time as Joaquin Salazar himself. The old man, who didn’t want to join the Sinaloas as their Arab speaker, had been coerced to go along when they threatened to kill his wife. He took the ride with the Sinaloas, leaving his crying wife wondering what was happening.

 
The truck arrived at the warehouse after midnight. The Sinaloas climbed out with their interpreter in tow. The old man, Yaseem, recognized Joaquin Salazar as soon as he saw him, and turned white. Everyone in Mexico recognized Joaquin Salazar, but very few people ever laid eyes on him and lived to tell about it. Yaseem put his hands together in prayer and bowed to the Sinaloa kingpin.

  Salazar spoke slowly in Spanish to Yaseem. “Relax, old man. We need someone who speaks Arabic. You were the closest person we could find. Just translate everything you hear, and you’ll go home with a pile of cash.”

  They walked inside the warehouse and saw the Sinaloas gathered around a very sick-looking naked man who was tied to a chair. Joaquin walked to the man and squatted down so they were eye to eye. He looked up at Yaseem, then back to the man.

  “Do you know who I am?” asked Joaquin. Yaseem repeated it.

  The young man shook his head, squinting through his one open eye. The left was purple and swollen almost shut.

  “Sinaloa. I know you know that name.” Yaseem repeated in Arabic.

  The man shook his head.

  Joaquin took a long knife out of a leather sheath under his shoulder. He tapped the flat part of the blade against the man’s thigh. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to tell me the truth, or I’m going to cut off your dick and feed it to you before I peel your skin off. You’ll beg me to kill you, but I won’t. You only get one chance to avoid all of this.”

  The man began sobbing after Yaseem translated.

  “Who are you, what are you doing here, and what is that thing you were transporting? Think carefully when you answer. One chance only.” He slid the sharp end of the blade across the man’s naked thigh, leaving a thin red line.

  Through slow sobs, the man answered. “My name is Mustafa Ali. I was born in Yemen and was living in Syria. I was chosen for a mission to attack the United States, not Mexico. The Zetas helped us get here, and they told us they had worked a deal with you for a safe trip here. They said we had permission to come here.”

  Joaquin listened as Yaseem translated, then said, “Continue. The Zetas paid to allow you to come here. Things change. What’s in the truck?”

  “It’s a weapon. To be used against the Great Satan. There’s a boat coming. I swear, it wasn’t to be used here.”

  Joaquin stood up and folded his arms. He paced slowly back and forth. “Why would the Zetas help you attack the United States?” As soon as he asked, he knew why. “Ahhh. Heroin.”

  The man nodded.

  “So you attack the United States, and the Zetas get their supply of heroin through you?”

  The man nodded.

  “Maybe now we make a new deal. Maybe now you send the heroin here. To me.”

  “I’m just a soldier. I can’t make deals. You have to speak to the ones in charge.”

  “For your sake, I hope you know how to reach them by phone. Quickly.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Assault

  The team had moved into position. Ray and Eric were inside the fence line, invisible in a bed of flowers and plants that gave them a view of the immense rear yard. The tower they had originally planned on using as their perch had too many sentries walking around it. Moose, Ripper, and Jon had moved to the edge of the forest vegetation and looked across a small lawn to the side of the rear yard. Pete and Ryan had crawled around the front to set a few claymore mines near the front door in case any of them tried to escape that way. After setting the mines, they joined the others at the edge of the woods.

  Eric’s voice whispered into everyone’s earpiece. “Just spotted the K9 unit. Sneaky. In the tall grass on the far side of the yard. You know I love dogs.”

  “And when he barks, we’re all dead. K9 and handler go first. We’re moving in from the near side,” Moose replied. It was strange fact—they could kill a hundred enemy human beings and not think twice, but kill a dog? That was a heartbreaker. Unless it was trying to eat your throat.

  Moose and the others moved rapidly across the yard to the fence and stopped. Moose gave an “okay” sign, which was repeated by the others. He whispered, “Silent assault.”

  In an instant, they were over the fence and in firing positions. With their night vision, they easily found the enemy positions, exactly where they had spotted them from their Dr. Who drone. Eric took out the K9 and his handler in rapid succession, only a second before the dog was about to alert to new smells. He then began finding targets all over the yard. The guards sensed something was wrong without actually hearing or seeing anything specific. The pops were quiet, but loud enough to cause the guards to start looking for intruders. As they began moving from their locations to investigate the noises, they were quickly taken out with very well-placed marksmanship. The yard fell silent.

  “Clear,” whispered Eric.

  The seven of them froze and waited a few seconds in total silence, making sure no one else was in the rear yard.

  Moose began crawling across the yard toward the house. “Take up positions near the rear of the house and hold. Checking drone.” He took out the small tablet and tapped the rear of the house. Dr. Who began buzzing around the yard over their heads, moving closer to the rear windows. Moose could see images inside the house with its night vision. There were a lot of people in the rear of the house, some of them moving around, probably looking out into the yard.

  Moose tapped a message to Apo. “10-20?”

  Apo replied quickly. “Bedroom. Waiting for assault.”

  “Danger close.”

  Moose and Ripper crawled next to each other behind a few large concrete pots filled with flowers. Ripper looked at Moose and asked, “Where the hell are the Marines?”

  “Maybe them boys is Lima Lima Mike,” replied Moose. Lima Lima Mike: lost like a muthafucker.

  “Real comforting. When we go loud, El Gato is either gonna be in the breeze with some secret tunnel or filled with lead. Maybe Apo can get to him?”

  Moose considered that. “Dangerous, but maybe he can sweet-talk his way to Gato once we send a few downrange.” Moose tapped out a message to Apo.

  Outside secure. Breech in two mikes. Get Gato when the shooting starts.

  Moose spoke to his team. “Hodges, you got eyes on the back room?”

  “Affirmative. Good angle. Count about twenty tangos, but there may be more. They’re moving around. Negative ID on Gato, over.”

  “Ninety seconds. You start working that room. If you ID El Gato you sing out. Jon, move up with the blooper. Apo will be in there somewhere. Don’t hit our friendly. Stay alert, stay alive. Out.”

  The team crawled slowly toward the house. Moose sent the drone out to the road that led to their position looking for the Marines, who he knew would be arriving by truck. He watched the image on the tablet, looking down on the road. The drone was flying over the road, following the map line east when the image went crazy. One second he was looking at the road, then the sky, then the image went black and flickering, and for a split second, a hideous face appeared before he lost the image.

  “Fuck! Dr. Who just passed the realism test. A fuckin’ bat just ate him. Drone is KIA. No more eye in the sky. Marines can come get their picture taken with El Gato whenever they get here. Prepare to assault.”

  The team members were scattered around the yard, all of them now scoping and acquiring targets inside the house.

  “Go!” snapped Moose. Eric’s sniper rifle popped first, and a sentry holding an AK-47 near the rear door lost most of his head. Jon fired the grenade launcher, using the buckshot rounds to take out the glass at the back of the house. As the men inside dove for cover and tried to shield their faces from the shattering glass all over the room, the team began taking out targets with exceptionally accurate fire.

  ***

  When the shooting erupted, El Gato dove for cover and began crawling away from the rear of the house. Apo used the noise as a signal to look for Gato and began moving down the hallway toward the sound of the gunfire.
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  Two of El Gato’s men ran out the front door toward the SUVs to escape the fusillade at the back of the house. The claymore mines detonated as the men crossed the trip wires, and the front of the house exploded in fire and a cloud of ball bearings moving at the speed of sound.

  El Gato heard the explosion from the front of the house and ran down a hallway that led to the basement. Apo turned into that same hallway from the other end and screamed at El Gato, “What’s going on?”

  El Gato saw his guest and screamed back at him. “Follow me! There’s a tunnel! Hurry!”

  Two of El Gato’s bodyguards were with him, escorting him as he headed for the basement door. Apo ran to catch up. One of the bodyguards pulled open the door and held it for El Gato, who ran down the steps with the other guard right behind him. The one holding the door screamed at Apo, “Hurry up!”

  Apo ran as fast as he could. As soon as he got to the door, the man holding it open for him looked past him to see if anyone else was coming. Apo throat-punched the guard, then kicked him as hard as he could in the crotch. The man dropped silently and Apo wrenched his head, instantly breaking his neck. He pulled out his garrote and ran down the steps after the other two. El Gato was out in front, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. The guard was behind him, a bit fat and out of shape, and was having trouble keeping up. That man turned and yelled back, “Hurry up, you two! Move faster!”

  He then turned back around and did his best to keep up with El Gato, who was moving much faster, fear being an excellent motivator. Apo eventually caught up to the guard, who put his hands on his knees and bent over to catch his breath. He was about to ask where the other guard was when Apo dropped la loupe around his neck and yanked as hard as he could. The man’s face turned crimson and his eyes bulged as they searched for oxygen. Apo held on as hard as he could as the big man tried his best to get the wire cables off his throat. He managed to get two fingers under one of them and tried to pull, but the device worked just how it was supposed to, and as he struggled, he only tightened the other cable. Apo and the guard went to the floor together, with Apo pulling tighter and tighter until the man choked to death. When Apo was sure the man was dead, he ran after El Gato, whose footsteps were receding farther away down the long stone hallway.