Forced to Kill nm-2 Page 19

  “Next house on the left.”

  He studied the property as they rolled past. The access, also a dirt track, looked to be about seventy yards long. He saw the rear end of a light-colored van near the house. Three rows of mature citrus trees lined the left side of the driveway and extended all the way to the rear property corner. They’d provide good cover from that direction. Several smaller trees, probably jacarandas, partially obscured the house from view, but he saw several windows glowing brightly. He looked behind the Mercedes to gauge the wind. Dust from the tires drifted lazily to the northeast. Maybe three miles per hour. That reinforced his plan to use the citrus trees as cover. He’d be downwind from the house-important if there were dogs. His trust in Julio’s report was far from absolute. After another quarter of a mile or so, the road came to a dead end. Harv executed a U-turn and cruised past the house in the opposite direction.

  He pulled to the shoulder at the point where Jonel became paved again and kept the engine running. They donned the radio gear, body armor, and belly packs. Next, they checked their suppressed Sigs and strapped Predator knives to their ankles. Time to make the call to Montez.

  Nathan had their captive lean forward from the rear seat. “You try anything cute and you won’t finish your sentence. Do you doubt me?”

  Julio shook his head.

  “Tell him you had to take our vehicle because we slashed your tires. Keep it short.” Holding his Sig’s suppressor against Julio’s head, he scrolled down to the number Julio had supplied earlier, hit send, and pressed the speaker button.

  The voice on the other end held no emotion. “Where are you?”

  “We’re almost there, but I got to tell you something.”

  “What?” Montez’s impatience crackled through the line.

  “The guys that shot us up, they slashed the van’s tires. I had to take their car.”

  “What about Hector and Pablo?

  “They’re in the trunk.”

  “What make and color is your vehicle?”

  “A blue Mercedes.”

  The cell signal ended.

  He and Harv got out and huddled in front of the idling Mercedes where Julio couldn’t hear them. “Pull in the driveway and park about thirty yards from the house,” Nathan whispered. “I’ll parallel your position through the citrus trees to the north and advance to the van’s position. Tuck your Sig into the small of your back. When you reach the porch, I’ll rush forward from the van. I’ll knock Julio senseless and we’ll storm the house. I’ll take the left.”

  “I can’t wear my NV visor.”

  “I’ve got you covered. The trees are right next to the driveway. Even though Julio said there weren’t any, there could be motion sensor lights mounted on the eaves. If they snap on, knock Julio cold and we’ll accelerate the attack. If things turn south, we’ll back off and let Cantrell’s people handle it.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

  “If things do go to hell, we can’t let anyone leave. I’ll cover the north and west sides, you take the south and east. If anyone bolts, we shoot to kill.”

  “Cantrell wants Montez alive.”

  “Only if it’s tactically sound. We can’t chase anyone without the risk of someone else escaping, especially Montez. Give me ninety seconds before you turn around. I’ll be in the citrus trees by the time you reach the driveway.”

  He opened the rear door and shoved Julio onto his side. “I’m cutting the tape from your hands and feet. If you’ve got any ideas about attacking my partner, forget them. You won’t see me, but I’ll have a laser painted on your back the entire time. Play along and you’ll live to see another day. Now get into the front seat and keep your mouth shut. Harv, give him a hand.”

  Julio wasn’t going anywhere-his grunts of agony confirmed it. Just relocating from the backseat into the front took considerable effort. This man couldn’t run even if he wanted to.

  “Okay, Harv. Ninety seconds.”

  Chapter 33

  Montez smiled when Dalton finished spilling his guts for the video camera. Pure gold. Dalton’s admissions would ensure Montez’s continued security into the foreseeable future. He tucked the thumb drive into his vest pocket, turned off the camera, and closed the laptop. Julio should be knocking on the door any second now. He checked his watch.

  Nathan flipped the NV monocular down to his left eye and jogged down the shoulder of the road. One hundred yards from the citrus trees, he angled across a grassy field and positioned himself about halfway down the driveway. He saw the green glow of the Mercedes’s headlights sweep through a 180-degree arc as Harv executed a U-turn. He ducked low as lateral light reached for him.

  While Harv rolled down the driveway and killed the engine, Nathan worked his way into the row of trees to a point parallel to the sedan and focused his NV monocular on the gravel driveway. Nothing. He didn’t see any trip wires or other deadfalls. The eaves above the front door didn’t appear to have any motion detector lights. A porch light to the left of the door looked to be the only exterior fixture-currently dark.

  “You’re good to go,” he whispered.

  “Copy.”

  A small gust of wind rustled the trees, then died.

  Harv climbed out, crossed in front of the sedan, and opened Julio’s door. Hunching over to disguise his height, Harv put his right arm around the wounded man and began a slow shuffle toward the house. In the gloom, with the dark backdrop, it looked believable.

  Nathan worked his way down the middle of the trees to the east until he was opposite the van. Keeping the van between himself and the house, he advanced. “I’m in position at the van.”

  “Copy.”

  The house seemed awfully quiet and totally silent. Not unusual in itself, but Nathan’s internal antennae went active. He focused on the windows to see if anyone cracked the curtains. No one did. His sense of caution climbed another notch.

  Harv and Julio closed to within ten yards of the door.

  A gust of wind moved past him.

  Eight yards.

  He inhaled through his nose. Deeply.

  And caught an odor.

  A sour smell. Like a septic tank.

  Six yards.

  He breathed the air again. Caught another whiff.

  Three yards.

  Shit. Not a septic tank-

  “Harv. Bolter! Bolter!”

  Harv let go of Julio and sprinted back up the driveway.

  Seizing the opportunity, Julio used his freedom to hobble toward the front door.

  Nathan yelled, “Get down!”

  Harv dropped to the gravel just as Julio grabbed the doorknob and pushed.

  The house ignited.

  A fireball shot through the front door, turning Julio into a flaming bowling ball.

  From a prone position, Nathan squinted as the man tumbled across the gravel and smashed against the side of the van. Simultaneously, every window blew outward, spewing glass and flames. The roof seemed to bulge for an instant before releasing from its walls. In a macabre ballet, burning plywood and shingles flew fifty feet into the air.

  “Harv?”

  “I’m okay!”

  “Roll left!”

  Harv scrambled laterally as a sheet of smoldering plywood landed where he’d just been. He saw Harv pop to his feet and dash into the citrus trees.

  Burning debris rained out of the sky, starting satellite fires in the grass field to the north.

  Nathan kept his head up as the last fiery chunks descended. In a running crouch, he formed up with Harv.

  “Dalton’s girls,” Nathan growled.

  “There’s nothing we can do for them.”

  “I should’ve shot Julio before he reached the door.”

  “Nate, there wasn’t time.”

  Screaming came from behind them. Turning, they saw what was left of Julio, blackened and smoldering, wailing in agony as he attempted to crawl away from the van. The orange glow from the inferno revealed all Nathan needed to see.
Parts of Julio’s clothing were still burning and the rest had fused with his skin. If he lived until help arrived, he’d go through living hell and probably wouldn’t survive. His entire body had sustained third-degree burns and looked like charred steak.

  Nathan toggled his laser, painted the red dot on Julio’s form, and squeezed the trigger. It took three suppressed shots to end the screaming.

  A flare of illumination blossomed in his peripheral vision. Across the road, porch lights had snapped on. Nathan figured they had less than thirty seconds to clear the area before every neighbor within a half mile came out to investigate the explosion and fire. Without a doubt, 911 had already been called.

  He brushed a smoking shingle from the hood of the Mercedes before climbing into the passenger side. “Let’s beat feet outta here, double pronto.”

  “No argument here.”

  Gravel shot forward as Harv backed down the driveway. “How’d you know?”

  “I smelled propane and put two and two together.”

  “Well, thank heaven for your keen sense of smell and your advanced mathematics.”

  “That heat wave was intense. I thought I’d caught fire.”

  “Yeah, me too. I think our hair took some damage. I can smell it.”

  “How are your eyes?”

  “I think they’re readjusted now.” Harv backed onto Jonel Road, threw the sedan into drive, and stomped the accelerator. A huge dust cloud fanned out behind them as their Mercedes sped away. He looked over to Nathan. “Where to now?”

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

  Chapter 34

  Nathan removed his tactical gear and face paint before reloading his Sig. In the unlikely event they got pulled over, they didn’t want to look like cat burglars. He steered from the passenger side as Harv did the same, except Harv didn’t need to reload his weapon. “We’ll start at the beginning of El Camino Real and head north up the hill. Ms. Dalton thought it was past the first stop sign, on the right side of the road. We’re looking for a property with white rail fence, an electric gate, and a big tree stump. There can’t be too many properties with those exact details.”

  “Should we update Cantrell?”

  “Yeah, probably, but screw finding a payphone. We’re done jumping through hoops.”

  “She won’t like it.”

  “Too bad.” He pulled his cell, made the call, and put it on speaker.

  “Cantrell.”

  “It’s echo five and I’m not on a payphone.”

  “Say nothing and-”

  He cut her off. “No time. Target location self destructed. Threat still loose.”

  “Destination?”

  “We have an alternate location.”

  A long pause. He could almost hear Cantrell’s mind working. “Do not, I repeat, do not proceed to that location.”

  “We’re already on our way.”

  “Abort, echo five. Abor-”

  He ended the call and turned off his phone.

  “What the hell was that about?” Harv asked.

  “We struck a nerve, that’s what.”

  Cantrell heard the call end. She redialed but got thrown into voice mail. What the hell did they think they were doing? She picked up the hard line on her desk and hit a preset button.

  Former CIA Director Samuel Kallstrom sounded awake but tired. “It’s oh-three-thirty in the morning, Rebecca.”

  “Your boys have gone rogue. They’re on their way to your son’s West Coast house as we speak.”

  “And that surprises you?”

  “You assured me they were good soldiers. Team players who followed orders. We’re about to lose containment.”

  She heard her former boss cough away from the receiver. “You lost containment the moment Montez attacked McBride. You’ve got the crime scene at Bullfrog Bay, the Long Beach warehouse, and several of Montez’s men in custody. That’s a hell of a lot more than you had several days ago. Give them a chance to complete the mission.”

  “McBride’s got a personal vendetta against Montez. What if he kills him? You’re still on the hook for Operation Echo if Montez has a sleeper system in place. You testified before Congress.”

  “I’ve got lung cancer. What’re they going to do? Throw me in jail? The president would never allow it.”

  “So where does this leave us?

  “Did you ask McBride not to kill Montez?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he won’t.”

  She needed to play an ace. The CIA was her agency now, not his. “This is bigger than Nicaragua. The scandal could bring down the president. I have a green light.”

  He coughed again and she felt a pang of guilt.

  “Rebecca, listen to me very carefully. Under no circumstances are you to do that.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t report to you anymore. I report to the DNI.”

  “I recommended you for the director’s chair, cashed in every favor I owned.”

  She sighed, deliberately softening her voice. She’d lost the high ground. “You don’t need to call in any favors. I already told McBride I wouldn’t do it.”

  “Thank you for that. Are any of our people watching Dalton?” he asked.

  She looked at her computer clock. “No. He refused, said he didn’t need them. He thought involving us would compromise the operation. For what it’s worth, I agreed with him. He used his own men and assured me they were up to the task, but I haven’t heard from him in more than thirty-six hours. McBride and Fontana are on their way to your son’s house, but I doubt Dalton would go there. Especially if Nichole knew its location, which is likely. Montez would extract that from her easily.”

  “If Montez has Dalton, it’s already too late. Dalton’s tough and smart, but he’ll never hold out very long against Montez, especially with his daughters at risk. It’s a good bet Montez knows everything.”

  “Will he blow the whistle?”

  “He kept Nicaragua a secret. At this point, I don’t know, but it’s a safe bet he’ll want more money. A lot more.”

  “I’m not onboard with that.”

  “We may have no choice.”

  She waited.

  “Our best hope of containment is already on the move.”

  “They’re rusty at best, sloppy at worst. They’ve already made some serious mistakes. It was their screw-up that led Montez to McBride’s house.”

  Kallstrom said nothing.

  “Your boys have six more hours, but I’m putting my San Diego team on standby. That’s the best I can do.”

  “You won’t regret it.”

  “Make a pot of coffee, Sam.” She ended the call and leaned back in her chair.

  Nathan and Harvey arrived on the outskirts of Lomas Santa Fe thirty minutes after leaving the safe house. At this hour, the streets of the neighborhood were deserted.

  “There might be security guards watching the house, probably are. We could be facing a friendly fire situation.”

  “I don’t consider anyone who shoots at us as friendly.”

  “You know what I mean.…”

  They rode in silence for a few seconds.

  “Let’s think about our plan,” Harv said. “Once again, we don’t have any intel on this house, or the surrounding area. Given the neighborhood, it’s a good bet it’ll have a state-of-the-art security system. Cameras. Infrared beams. Motion sensors. You name it.”

  “Good thing we know how to beat them.”

  “There could be tactical dogs.”

  “If there are, let’s try not to kill them.”

  “Last I looked, we’re fresh out of tranquilizer guns.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Nathan paused, thinking. “I wish Cantrell had told me what Duane Dalton’s role is.”

  He turned left onto El Camino Real. “All we can be sure of is that Dalton’s a fairly major player, and he’s working in some way with the CIA.”

  �
��He could’ve been in the safe house when it blew.” Nathan shook his head. “You realize that Montez set a trap to kill his own man. Maybe Julio said something in code. If he did, it cost him his life. It’s damned cold-blooded to kill your own man like that, even for Montez.”

  “Don’t humanize Montez too much, Nate.”

  They fell silent for a minute.

  “If you’re right about Julio alerting Montez,” Harv said, “he wanted to take us out as well. Nearly did. Which might give us an advantage if he thinks we’re dead.”

  “We shouldn’t assume that.”

  “If Montez believes his safe house was compromised then he’ll also assume this location could be compromised as well. There could be a similar booby trap here. Getting cooked alive isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list.”

  “Relax, Harv. I’ve got everything under control.”

  “I hate it when you say that.”

  “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “You call this living?”

  “Just admit it, you love this.”

  “I’ll have to take the Fifth on that.”

  Nathan focused on the landmarks along the road now. “Nichole Dalton said the house is past a stop sign.”

  A few minutes later they found the stop sign Nichole had mentioned. The cross street was Linea Del Cielo. They drove down a gradual grade, focusing on the right side.

  “There’s a white fence,” Nathan said. “This could be it.”

  “Looks promising.”

  “Keep going, we need an electric gate.”

  “I don’t see a big stump.”

  “The gate’s too far away. Kill the headlights and pull over past the driveway. I’m gonna take a look.”

  Nathan wasn’t out of Harv’s Mercedes more than ten seconds before hearing an approaching car. He cursed inwardly and bolted up a steep slope. He had to lie flat on his stomach to avoid being touched by the headlights and peered through a low bush as a San Diego County sheriff’s cruiser rolled to a stop next to Harv’s Mercedes. Unbelievable. Friggin’ unbelievable.

  He saw the cruiser’s passenger side window roll down. “Sir, is everything okay?”