Blaze of Glory (31 page)

“You sure? It’s your paycheck we’re betting on.”

“Funny man.”

“Hey, I got a bunch of kids to support—”

A pounding sound came from the front of the aircraft. Moyer and Rich appeared from the back. “Pete,” Moyer said.

J. J. saw Moyer motion to the front door. Leaning into the aisle, J. J. watched Pete step to the passenger entrance door just behind the cockpit area. He peered out the porthole. The pounding returned, and Pete turned. The noise came from the front starboard emergency exit. He looked through that door’s window, then stepped back.

Moyer pushed past Jose and moved forward like an ice cutter in the Arctic. From the small steward’s storage closet Moyer pulled a 9mm handgun and handed it to Pete. He took one for himself. They had stored their weapons before takeoff in Italy.

The rest of the team went forward and received handguns from Moyer then spread out through the seating.

“Open it, Pete.”

Pete Rasor turned the long, silver release handle. The door swung in. As it did, Moyer and Pete raised their weapons. J. J., like the other team members, kept the muzzle of his weapon down.

“Avon calling.” The voice came from a man J. J. couldn’t see. The accent was decidedly American. A moment later, “I presume one of you is Sergeant Major Eric Moyer.”

“Identify yourself,” Pete demanded.

“Smith. Dr. Larry Smith. Colonel Mac sends his regards. So does Tess Rand.”

J. J. heard her name and his heart quickened. “She said to tell J. J. . . . wait, I want to make sure I get this right . . . that he needs to be careful because life isn’t worth living without him.”

Several snickers echoed down the 757.

Moyer lowered his weapon.

MOYER LOWERED HIS WEAPON and took in the scene. A man with a barrel-shaped body and bald head stood in what looked like a small shipping container. It took a moment for Moyer to make sense of it. He had seen workers at airports drive a vehicle to the side of an airliner, and then, using a scissors lift, raise a boxy container to the side door of the aircraft. It was how airline caterers off-loaded the drinks and goodies to be distributed on the flight.

“I didn’t expect this kind of entrance.”

“It’s important to keep up appearances. Permission to come aboard?” The man held a large brown envelope.

“I don’t know,” Pete said. “That sounds like Navy talk.”

“Just my attempt at humor. I’m still trying to grow a funny bone.”

“I think we have room for one more.” Moyer stepped back and Smith moved in. “I hope you’re here to spring us. We were told to wait two hours—”

“And it’s been closer to four. Sorry. I couldn’t get here faster, and it wouldn’t have mattered if I did. Intel wasn’t ready.”

“Is it ready now?”

“We have a few things to discuss, yes.”

Moyer introduced Smith to the team. When he introduced J. J., Smith smiled. “So you’re the lucky man.”

J. J. blushed, something Moyer hadn’t seen before.

“Okay, let’s talk,” Smith said. “Do you want me to brief you alone or with everyone present?”

“Everyone. It’ll save me from repeating the info.”

“Got it. Take a seat, gentlemen.” He opened the large envelope. “We’ve been busy. Colonel Mac played a wild card and got a good result. He had Tess Rand speak to the bomber chick—”

“Delaram,” J. J. said.

“Yes, Delaram. He felt she could get more out of her than an intel officer or a man in uniform. As an expert in female suicide bombers, she might make more headway than any of us. Besides, she already knows the mission, and that kept us from pulling in another person. She proved very effective.”

“How so?” Moyer asked.

“As you know, the bombers were not typical. None appear to be martyrs scattering their body parts for the cause. You already know about the abductees of which Delaram was one. We also know that El-Sayyed—who is dead, if you haven’t heard—was not the only man behind the scheme to blow up twenty of the world’s leaders.”

Zinsser’s forehead creased. “Dead?”

“Yup. Someone sent a couple of RPGs into the man’s luxury boat. He and the boat are no more.”

“I’m assuming his partner did that,” Moyer said.

“Yeah,” Smith said, “a little over the top way of ending a partnership.”

“So who is his partner?”

“Forgive me if I repeat anything you already know, but here it is in a nutshell. We were monitoring El-Sayyed in Egypt. He received a cell call that we traced to Mexico—which is why you’re here. Turns out the call originated on a landline. We’ve been working with Mexican authorities to trace it. The call was made from a small village called Frontera.”

“Border.”

Moyer glanced at Jose. “What?”

“The word is the feminine for
border.
”

Smith nodded. “Makes sense. It’s not far from the U.S. border. Far enough away to keep it from observing eyes in the U.S. but close enough to be a problem. There is another town near by: Colina Verde. Neither is much to look at.”

“And our man is in one of these towns?” Moyer asked.

“No, but we think he might be nearby. The villages are small but the inhabitants seem to be doing well. They have no industry so that makes me think they work in drug processing.”

Rich arched a brow. “Does this man have a name?”

Smith frowned. “No, but the DEA and their Mexican counterparts hear stories of Lobito—Little Wolf. We do know that there is a mastermind who had managed to create a confederation of drug lords. The impact on U.S. cities has been stunning. Violence that used to be confined to border areas now extends as far north as Seattle. We think the mastermind of that coalition is the same guy that brought El-Sayyed into the picture.”

“And he tried to kill the world leaders because our president and the Mexican president are discussing a border fence.”

“Among other things. Those two were most likely his targets, but, by killing the other leaders, he would be making quite a statement.” He handed Moyer a photo. “We have satellite surveillance. We also have been allowed to fly an MQ-1 UAV Predator over the area for real-time recon.”

Moyer had seen the unmanned aerial vehicle several times. It had been used in Iraq, Afghanistan, Serbia, and Yemen. The remotely piloted vehicle could do anything from reconnaissance to hunter-killer missions. The MQ-9, a larger version of the MQ-1, was capable of firing Hellfire II missiles into ground targets.

“Here are some night shots taken earlier this evening.” Smith handed out the pictures. “The U.S. Border Patrol ran the mission. They were in place and ready to go. They also have experience flying the border area. As you can see, there are the two villages I mentioned. What else do you see?”

Both the daytime satellite photo and the Predator image revealed a sprawling mansion. “I see a house built by someone who likes his privacy.”

“Exactly. We think our man lives there.”

Moyer studied the images for a moment then handed them to Rich. “What about the hostages. Are they in this guy’s house?”

“Doubtful. Delaram gave us two bits of info that proved especially useful. One, her parents rented a car. She said they were prone to luxury vehicles because of her mother’s back.”

“You have to have a bad back to like a nice car?” Rich said.

“Their motive doesn’t matter. We checked with rental companies, and, sure enough, a Cadillac Escalade out of Mexico City has gone missing.” Smith removed another photo and handed it to Moyer. “This is from a flyover of Frontera.”

Moyer saw several boxy buildings lining a dark street. Had it not been for the low-light camera aboard the Predator, Moyer wouldn’t be able to see anything. A dark vehicle was parked next to a small warehouse. “That could be a Caddy. Doesn’t fit with the other cars, none of which looks newer than the mid-eighties. Still, how do you know this is their rental?”

“Recon over Colina Verde doesn’t show any vehicle that could be mistaken for a late model SUV, but the real kicker is this: Delaram gave us the cell phone numbers for her parents. We’ve been able to get their call records. The personal phone for her dad and the one for her mother haven’t been used since the abduction. In fact, there’s been no signal from them at all. We assume the phones were taken and destroyed.”

“Makes sense,” Rich said.

“But we caught a break. Delaram’s dad also carried a high-end smart phone for his business. She said that he would only check it a few times a day when he was traveling. He liked to keep it in the glove box of the car he was using.”

Zinsser nodded. “You triangulated the signal.”

“Yup. Believe it or not, there’s good cell coverage in the area. Many outlying regions get cell phone coverage before anything else. These two towns look like they should be in a third-world country, but they have Internet, satellite television, and cell phones. Most likely Lobito arranged for such things.”

“The phone in the car is still working?” Zinsser pressed.

“Yes. I doubt it will last much longer without a charge.”

Moyer looked from Smith to his team. “So we have two missions. A rescue mission in Frontera, and a late-night visit to the mansion.”

“You may want to forget Frontera,” Smith said. “We have grave doubts about any hostage being alive. These are not nice people we’re dealing with.” Once again, he removed a photo but held onto it. “This isn’t pleasant.”

Moyer held out his hand and took the photo. He glanced at it, closed his eyes, and tried to keep his stomach down. He handed the picture to Rich, whose hand began to shake. The photo made the rounds. When it reached J. J., Moyer heard, “Blessed Jesus.” Had the words come from anyone else, Moyer would have heard it as a meaningless gut reaction. Coming from J. J., the words were a sincere prayer.

He swallowed. “I take it those are the missing women. There were only three bombers that we know of. We found evidence of there being ten or so women.”

Smith cleared his throat. “Yes. A man named De Luca found this van. The bodies were inside. Preliminary coroner’s report says each had been shot in the head and the van set afire. At least they were dead when the fire got to them.”

Every muscle in Moyer’s body tensed as one desire, one dream, burned inside him: strangling the people behind this. He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind. “We go after the hostages first. Then we pay a surprise visit to the man in the mansion.”

“Colonel Mac said you’d go for the hostages no matter what. He appears to know you very well.”

“At times, too well.” Moyer stood. “Anyone here feel like setting things right?”

“HOOAH!”

CHAPTER 34

IT SEEMED LIKE DAYS ago when Smith appeared on TP-01 and briefed the team, but Zinsser knew it had only been a matter of hours. Since then, they had gathered what gear they had brought with them, entered the catering truck that hid their exit from prying eyes, and rode in the trailer as it lowered on the scissor lifts and was delivered to a spot beneath one of the airport’s terminals. From there they were driven to a private jet that flew them to Base Aérea Militar No. 14 near Monterrey.

An Army captain waited for them in one of the hangers. Two long folding tables held gear, which Zinsser immediately recognized. The items didn’t surprise him, nor did the C-130 warming up on the tarmac.

The captain returned salutes. “I’m Matthew Boyle, Fort Bliss. I hear you need a ride.” He was lanky but solid. He seemed a tad older than most captains, and Zinsser assumed he began his career as an enlisted man.

“We appreciate that, Captain. We’d be on foot otherwise.”

Zinsser watched the officer eye Moyer and detected approval.

“Your men have fifteen minutes to check their equipment, hit the latrine, and get on board the C-130.”

“Understood. We’ll be on time.”

“Good. I want to get the thing back before the base commander knows it’s missing.”

Moyer looked surprise. “You’re kidding me, right, sir?”

“Yeah, I am. Just trying to lighten the moment.”

“A little levity is always appreciated, sir.”

“Unfortunately we have to get down to business.” Captain Boyle turned to the unit. “Gather up, men. I’ve only got time to say this once.” Zinsser and the others formed a semicircle around the man. “I will be your static jumpmaster for this mission. That means I’ll be going up with you, but you’ll be leaving alone. You already know some of this, but let me give you the details. We will be wheels up in fifteen and head north to the target area. We will come in at 30 feet and 30 miles out you will make a HAHO jump. The moment the last man is out, we will stay in area until we hear a report of safe landing. An extraction team will be in the air shortly and in area an hour after you bail. They will take on fresh fuel before crossing the border. You will bear in mind that these guys will need time to come in. If they get too close, anyone on the ground can hear them—so try and stay out of any kind of trouble that requires immediate aid. Clear?”

As usual, Moyer spoke for them all. “Clear, sir.”

Boyle eyed the men. “I’m told that each of you has done High Altitude, High Open jumps. Is that fact?”

“Fact, sir,” Moyer said.

“Good, then I’ll leave out the trivial stuff, but to make sure we’re all on the same page, I’ll hit the highlights. You’re opening high so the aircraft noise and the noise of your chutes won’t alert the enemy. We are assuming the area to be hostile with heavily armed bad guys. At angels thirty you’ll exit the aerial platform and deploy fifteen seconds out. Who will be first man out?”