Insertion, page 8
As much as Max wanted to lift his NVG’s to rub his eyes, he resisted. His heart was pumping a million miles a minute and he could feel the perspiration building up underneath his gloves. There was nothing he wanted more in the world right now than a nice cold beer and a warm shower, but that was out of the question. The team was outside city limits so far that the streetlights and other cars were non-existent. All they could see through the green hue of the NVG’s were trees and other shrubbery surrounding them.
Enrique took a sharp turn to the right as Max’s left arm swung out and landed on Enrique’s chest, trying to sustain a balance.
“Easy, amigo,” Enrique said, “I don’t think I’m ready to date outside of my race yet. I’ll have to ask my parents for approval first.” That got some laughs from the back row of the bouncing vehicle. After another ten minutes of climbing and dipping through the terrain, the operators spotted the airstrip sitting a mile or two away.
“Does anybody have a plan or are we just winging this?” Kwame asked, who was causing Carlos and Courtney to feel like sardines sitting in the middle, his gigantic arms pushing them against the doors. Not being able to move anything but her head, Courtney said, “First we need to get you on a diet, bro. I mean, jeez, why are you so damn big?”
“I think you need to ask yourself the question of why are you so damn small,” Kwame replied.
Enrique quickly checked his rear-view and shouted, “You know what they say about guys with big feet-”
“Zip it,” interrupted Courtney, “let’s worry about not driving us off the cliff first and then I can hear what you have to say,” interrupted Courtney, not letting the man finish his sentence. A smile formed across his face that Courtney could just barely make out through her goggles. If it wasn’t for Kwame squishing her against the door, she would reach over and slap him.
“Look, there they are. Nine o’clock, down below,” Max said, straining his head to get a better view of the two pairs of headlights almost to the fence surrounding the airstrip.
“Wow,” Courtney exclaimed, “this place really is abandoned.”
“I would go into a history lesson about it, but we have bigger issues to worry about. Max, you have any ideas about how you want to do this?” Enrique said. He had entered the downward slope phase of the road and was having an even harder time trying to keep the vehicle on the path now that it narrowed.
“I have somewhat of an idea. It’s ballsy but it’s the best shot we have without shooting Ben. Enrique, is this the only entrance into the airstrip?”
“Yes sir, one way in and one way out.”
“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. We aim all of our concentration on the plane’s wheels and hope that it doesn’t take off. Roll your windows down, it’s about to get really heavy really quick.”
The front gate sounded like a baseball player hitting a grand slam when the front grille of the vehicle collided with it as the two SUVs pushed through. The second Pablo hung up the phone, he had called the lieutenant of the local police department and told them their situation. Pablo wanted any officers on duty to meet them at the airstrip before they got there, but the lieutenant stated Pablo and his men would reach the airstrip before he was able to put the call out. After using what remaining energy was left in his body to curse him out, he promptly reminded him who put the extra money into his pockets and hung up. The Learjet 45XR was waiting for them on the runway about three hundred yards away, and the two massive turbo jet engines could be heard cutting through the peaceful night air.
“All talk, no action,” was Pablo’s response. Rolling down the window to get some fresh air into the cabin, he tried to see any flashing police lights off in the distance.
“Hey, Matias, roll down your window and let me know if you see anything.”
Leaning out of the window, he tried his best to look through the dense jungle, but it was damn near impossible to see anything beyond twenty yards without a flashlight, much less hear anything with the turbines screaming. “You’re smoking too much of that stuff esé, I can’t see anything,” Matias said.
“Alright, let’s make this quick then,” Pablo said as both SUVs stopped next to the stairs leading into the plane. Matias pushed Ben out of the backseat, onto the tarmac and up the steps. Just as Pablo was about to follow one of the drivers up the steps, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was off.
The turbines were loud and obnoxious, but not loud enough to drown out the screeching of tires headed their way. Turning to the remaining driver, he said, “Go, slow them down.”
The driver hopped back into the closest SUV, pulled a U-turn, and headed full speed to intercept the oncoming traffic.
“It seems we have a friend trying to greet us. What do you say we give them a nice welcome?” Enrique said.
“Everyone, get ready to let ‘er rip!” Max shouted, leaning out of his window with his rifle facing the oncoming threat. Running over the gate lying on the road, Enrique pressed the pedal as far down as it would possibly go as the V-8 engine roared.
The vehicle barreling toward them stopped abruptly about one hundred yards away at the edge of the tarmac. They could barely make out the driver as he got out and ran to get something out of the trunk. The man came around the opposite side of the SUV and pointed a rocket propelled grenade launcher toward them.
“RPG!” Max shouted, gripping anything he could find inside the vehicle.
“Hang on!” Enrique responded. A loud noise pierced the night sky as a small rocket barreled toward them at full speed. Enrique forced the steering wheel to the left, narrowly avoiding imminent death. The rocket continued past them, and connected with a tree sending a large fireball and plume of smoke into the sky. Unfortunately, Enrique’s sharp turn combined with the high rate of speed caused the SUV to flip onto its side. As they slid to a halt, Max barked orders. “Everyone out now!”
Enrique and Carlos were the first ones to act, grabbing whatever they could to pull themselves up and out. Enrique went toward the front and Carlos scrambled toward the back.
“Laying down suppressive fire!” Enrique screamed. Gunfire erupted, piercing the night air as Kwame was next to climb out of the vehicle, turning to help Courtney out of her seat. Max nearly flew out and was standing behind Enrique before Courtney was completely out.
“Crap, they’re going to get away. We have to push!” Max said, peeking over the vehicle. The team watched the jet move forward at a decent pace down the runway.
“Reloading!” Enrique shouted, peeling back as Kwame took his spot. Grabbing Max and slamming him against the SUV, Enrique said, “No, Max! Save your energy for another day. I’m going to radio the small boats for extraction. There’s a river that connects to the Gulf, but we have to get away from this airstrip.”
“Dammit, we’re so close!” Max screamed. Taking a second to compose himself and survey the situation, he took a deep breath and nodded at Enrique.
“Hold your fire,” Max said, as the suppressing fire finally subsided. “Save your ammo until you see him.”
“Okay, amigo, we’re ready to roll. They’ll be here soon.”
“We need to cover our retreat so he doesn’t shoot another rocket and blow us up in the back,” Max said.
“I have that covered,” Enrique said, reaching onto the front of his belt and pulling out a small green canister. “Everybody, run in the direction behind the SUV but to the fence line.” He pulled the pin on the canister, took a step in front and hurled it like a baseball over the top of the vehicle.
It took a second for the canister to contact the ground, but once it did, a thick grey cloud of smoke dispersed rapidly in all directions.
“Move, now!” Max shouted. Using whatever energy the team had left, they sprinted toward the tree line. Adrenaline, flowing at full force, was pumping through their bodies, and Max was sure if there was any point in time where they could win any type of forty-yard dash, it was right now.
An explosion was heard behind them, causing Max to snap his neck back to see. Just five seconds after they had retreated, the second rocket connected with the gas tank of the overturned SUV, sending an enormous fireball into the sky and illuminating the airstrip.
The muscles in his legs screamed and ached as he picked up speed to catch up to Courtney. She was only two or three paces ahead of him; he was getting old, he thought. The fence surrounding the airport was embedded behind the tree line far enough that if anyone wanted to follow them, they would need flashlights. Even though Max couldn’t see it, he heard a new threat emerging to their left off in the distance.
As the team slowed, Max shot a quick look to the crest of the hill and witnessed at least five to six flashing lights descending on the dirt road.
“Dammit, we need to get over this fence,” Courtney said, breathing heavily. She shook the fence, looking for a possible weak spot. The fence was eight feet tall and had three-strained barbed wire encompassing the entire top of it.
“Move,” Max said, gently shoving her out of the way. Taking off his plate carrier, he called Kwame over. “Here,” he said, handing the carrier over to him. The kit felt like one million pounds in his hands and his arms and shoulders were on fire. He was completely spent. Kwame snatched it out of his hands—he knew exactly what Max wanted to do. In addition to being the biggest one in the group, Kwame was also one of the tallest. Tossing one end of the carrier over the top, it crushed the barbed wire, creating a small path to climb without getting stuck.
Kwame looked back at Max, who gave him a thumbs-up. “You first, big boy, we need you on the other side to help us get down.”
“Check,” he said, lifting one leg and starting his climb. The rest of the team created a small circle of protection, pointing their rifles in the direction of the SUV speeding toward the downed gate to meet the police. One by one the members of the team peeled off and climbed the fence until it was just Enrique and Max on the airstrip side of the fence.
After Max, the last one, landed on the other side, Kwame reached up and yanked at his plate carrier until it fell forward. Handing it back to Max, Kwame stepped aside and did his best to catch his breath..
“Okay, let’s go,” Enrique said, “the small boats aren’t but a half a mile away.”
“Everyone good?” Max asked. After receiving verbal confirmations from everyone, he turned back to Enrique and said, “Lead the way.”
CHAPTER 16
The cellphone vibrating on the nightstand woke Alexandria from her sleep as she pushed away the stranger’s arm draped across her chest. No matter how much her eyes adjusted at night, her blackout curtains made it damn near impossible to see as she fumbled to grab her phone. Sitting up, she tried her best to not disturb the snoring giant face down in his pillow.
She just went to bed an hour prior after participating in some of the worst sex of her life. This was a small price to pay for the monetary value of the information she collected for her clients. Looking at the phone, she saw a South American number and knew instantly who it was. The thought of letting the call go straight to voicemail so she could get some rest ran through her mind but answering her phone when it rang was also part of the business. If you could call it that.
“Hello?” she said in a groggy voice, trying to clear her throat.
“Miss Alexandria, do you know who this is?” said a voice she didn’t recognize. Something on the back of her neck made her hairs pop to attention. Softly clearing her throat again, she responded, “No, I—”
“I am Pablo’s boss,” said the voice on the phone, pausing and letting the realization of who she was talking to sink in. Something deep down in her soul knew that Alejandro himself was the man on the other end of the phone. Normally, she would always ask a question of her clients and to ensure the security of the callers who she didn’t recognize, but in this case she thought it was best to let it slide.
“Mr. Alvarez,” she said, “how can I be of assistance?”
“I take it this line is secure? Pablo tells me this is the line he was instructed to call you on.”
“That’s correct, sir,” she said, hoping the courtesy would help with this strange introduction.
“No need for flattering. Alejandro is fine. Now, let’s cut to the chase because I would think you would want to be asleep right now, just like I would. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Alejandro,” she said.
“One would think I am paying you very well?”
“Yes, Alejandro, give me a second,” she said. The wooden floor creaked and moaned as she tip-toed across and opened her bedroom door. Her condo was lavish, and thanks to her side job, she could afford every bit of it. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she walked to her refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water before apologizing, telling him to continue.
“It seems we have individuals chasing my men who know exactly where Ben is at all times. Now that leads me to believe one thing—we have a rat somewhere in my cartel that is feeding information on where my men have the kidnapped individual.”
“You want me to track down whoever is undercover? I don’t have access to that side of the agency.”
“Miss Alexandria, do you think I am stupid, or naïve?”
“Neither.”
“Good. Then let me make myself very clear,” he said. Yelling was not in Alejandro’s nature, so when his frustration kicked in, it was like a mother scolding her child through her teeth. “My men barely escaped a raid tonight by whatever paramilitary group was sent to rescue your friend. Although I am personally grateful at the information you have provided me so that we can be one step ahead, I need a name. I was not concerned with it before, and I didn’t think we had a…rata…in our mists, but adding up all the events that have occurred over the last twenty-four hours or so have changed my mind.
“Now the house in Texas that was raided, I can understand because it was under surveillance by the locals, but what I can’t understand is how they found our exact compound in Guaymas when it is an eight-hour drive from the border of your country. Does that make sense to you?”
There was a slight pause as thoughts were flying through her head. She had somewhat of an idea of what he was talking about, but only from what she was able to scrounge from one of the talkative members from the Bering Group at work earlier. She loved to sell secrets, but stepping outside of the agreed conditions of her contracts was not what she wanted. Could she pull up the information? Of course, although she wasn’t lying about that section of the agency being on lockdown, she didn’t graduate cum laude from MIT with a Master’s in Computer Science because of her looks.
“You don’t think the local police department had your house on surveillance in Mexico?” she asked, trying to go on the offensive.
“Unlike you Americans, we pay off our authorities, and if anyone talks, well, I’m sure you get the picture. I have resources that can find him, no problem, but that takes time and manpower. Manpower that I do not want to exercise, because it takes them away from other things that people could be doing for me. You understand?”
“Yes, I do, but that also takes away from what I am supposed to be doing, and the more I do things that aren’t part of my job, the more people might ask questions,” she said, getting agitated by this conversation.
“I am very aware how it works, Miss Alexandria. You will be compensated when I have my name. I need it within the next forty-eight hours.”
She felt her headache increase. Climbing back into her bed was her only priority at this point, and she knew she had no other option than to comply. Even if she did say no, what would he do? Alejandro was thousands of miles away and she had followed all of the protocols to the wire. The stories were always from idiots or people who flashed their money or tried to double cross cartel members, neither of which she was trying to do.
“And if I don’t?” she asked, as she took another sip of her water bottle.
“Miss Alexandria, do not play games with me. It’s late and you have a three-hundred-pound behemoth to get back to, don’t you?”
Her heart pounded. She thought it was going to burst through her chest. Quickly peering through her living room curtains, she saw nothing. The fear of working for a drug cartel suddenly became a reality. “Yes, I understand, Alejandro,” her voice now shaking in response.
“Forty-eight hours.” And with that, the line went dead.
CHAPTER 17
Enrique had promised to help the team as best he could and point them in the right direction but chasing a kidnapped American into Colombia was where he drew the line. It was approaching the early hours of the morning by the time the team arrived at Enrique’s AirBnB. He let the group stay in it as long as they needed to until they could figure out where their next course of action was, but that would have to wait until the afternoon because the team was running on fumes.
Max wasn’t sure how much sleep he inherited after his head hit the pillow, but he was startled awake after hearing a loud door slam. Looking at his rifle and plate carrier laying against the wall on the ground and deciding he needed something smaller to deal with this threat, he grabbed his pistol off the nightstand and jolted up, raising it to eye level. Thoughts of the previous night came rushing back to his brain and, realizing he was safe, took a deep breath and set the pistol back on the nightstand, relaxed and rubbed his eyes. The play by play from the previous night ran circles through his head as he tried his best to make sense of it all. The headache from the fatigue was catching up to him and aspirin, if there was any, would be his best friend.
