“Did you tell him I’ll turn the planes around?”
“Yes, he said that would be a mistake!”
“A mistake how? He has nothing else!” said Sean, a knot forming in his stomach. “Fuck!”
With more than thirty years service in the force, Sergeant Hector Martinez was looking forward to his retirement. He had already found a small home by the beach near his ancestral Mexican home. His American pension would go much further South of the border and allow him a far better standard of living. With only a week and counting, he was not going to be rushing towards any dangerous calls.
A few calls had come in throughout the day from the Lakeside area. Each time a car had been dispatched but it had quickly been recalled by the senior despatcher. Martinez had a fair idea the despatcher was working for somebody that wanted something covered up which, around these parts, was the cartel. The power of the cartels had grown exponentially over the last few years and Martinez was delighted he was getting out. He had had enough and seen enough for a lifetime. Ten years ago, he would have been marching into the dispatcher’s office and arresting the son of a bitch but not anymore. With a week to go, he was keeping his head down.
The call that diverted himself to Lakeside was not a welcome one but one that he could not refuse. He was still on the payroll and had to obey. He took it easy as he drove down the street. A few people were around but there were no obvious signs of a disturbance. Whatever the calls had been for earlier that day had obviously been resolved. After a few tours of the area, he spotted his opportunity. The two men had come out of the address and walked across the street. He drove to the end of the block and watched; one week was all he could think. Don’t get yourself shot Hector, he told himself.
He gave it another five minutes but he was delaying the inevitable. He selected 'Drive’ on the gearshift and drove towards the house. The new hybrid cruisers allowed for almost silent driving at speeds less than twenty, the tiniest of hums announced his arrival at Katie’s house. As he exited his cruiser, he kept his eyes peeled on the house across the street. As he stepped up to the front door, his hand reached automatically for his gun. The door was riddled with bullet holes. He eyed the door across the street, still no movement. He knocked on the bullet-ridden door, careful to avoid the splinters. The footsteps announced the arrival of the lady of the house, the sharp crack on the floor was a heel no man would wear.
“Mrs Fox?” inquired Sergeant Martinez.
“Yes,” she offered tentatively, conscious of exactly how the door must have looked.
“Would you mind coming with me, Ma’am?”
“Why?”
“Your son!’ said Sergeant Martinez.
Katie Fox’s face fell, fearing the worst.
“No, no, he’s fine. I’m going to take you to him!”
Katie rushed from the house and jumped into the open door of the cruiser. “We just need to pick up Sean, he’s over there,” she said, beaming from ear to ear.
“No problem,” he smiled, shutting the door and hitting the send button on the text message he had already drafted. The smile was a very warm smile, a smile that had just received a cash boost of $50,000 dollars into its pension fund, courtesy of Juan Cortes of the Los Zetas cartel. Sergeant Hector Martinez had survived the last ten years because he knew who had the power and the money. The small house by the beach was listed at $4.5 million, Cancun wasn’t the cheapest place to live but with the money he had made over the last ten years and stashed offshore, it was a steal.
He sprinted out of the empty house just in time to see the taillights of the police cruiser. He rushed across the road, bursting into Katie’s house, almost removing the door from its hinges.
“Katie!” he shouted, over and over. Nothing, the house was empty.
Luis caught up. “What? What’s happened?” he asked panting.
“The reason Juan didn’t answer! He was waiting to hear his guys had snatched Katie!” Sean punched the wall in frustration. “Fuck!” he screamed.
It was almost 3pm, just over two hours until James would be killed. His mother would survive as long as Sean delivered the contacts, not that she’d want to. Sean wasn’t certain but the loss of James might tip her over the edge. He had failed, allowing Juan the extra leverage had put him in the driving seat. He could show how serious he was by carrying out his threat knowing Sean would still deliver in order to save Katie. Otherwise, he may have had to back down and agree to a change of timeline. Katie changed everything. Luis was right, Juan was smart. There was however one thing that Juan hadn’t factored into his little masterplan. Sean!
Chapter 57
Sean tightened the strap that held the Ka-Bar knife holster against his thigh. He cocked the MP-5 and chambered a round, just as he had with the Gyurza. Sean had found the Russian pistol surprisingly good and had opted against the Glock.
“Describe the ranch again!” he instructed Luis as he snapped more ammo to his belt. The CIA packs had held enough gear to start a small war, which was just as well as it seemed from Luis’ description it was going to take at least that to pull off the rescue of James.
As Luis eventually finished describing the list of defenses, Sean couldn’t help but feel he should just strip the gear off and forget the whole idea. It seemed El Jefe had covered every angle. That was of course if Sean could even trust what Luis was telling him. Ultimately, Luis was only playing ball with Sean in order to retrieve the drug trade that had dwindled since the untimely demise of Sean’s lookalike. As the contacts that would save his life with his uncle neared, Sean trusted him less, according to the law of diminishing returns. For Luis there was less and less to gain from pleasing Sean and more and more from pleasing El Jefe and now Juan.
“OK, I’ll come in from the South East wall and will have a few seconds as the sentries patrol behind the white Barn. And James is housed in the small outhouse to the West of the White Barn?”
“Correct,” nodded Luis.
“You know what you need to do?” asked Sean.
Luis nodded.
“Say it,” said Sean.
“I am to arrive at the ranch at 4.45 and transport Juan and my uncle to the secret meeting. I am instructed that we have to leave immediately and will receive communications on the way. I have to inform them that we are being monitored and if we try to communicate or alert reinforcements, the meeting is off. I am to tell them these are the dealer’s instructions and not yours. I’ll try and uncover where Katie is and using the code, let you know when you call. We go to the airport and meet the dealers at 6 pm unless you find Katie first and if that’s the case I drive and meet you at alternate B. Plan B, you kill my uncle and Juan and I meet the dealers myself.”
The last part of the plan was all Sean could think that would convince Luis to give his uncle and Juan up. To say he had jumped at the chance would have underplayed his eagerness to be the boss. It would also prevent a void in power, something Iraq and Afghanistan were perfect examples of why you don’t want to leave somewhere leaderless.
“Our chances?” asked Luis confidently.
“To be honest,” he thought out loud, shaking his head. “Not good.”
Luis laughed, which surprised Sean.
“Better than I expected,” he said, explaining his laugh.
Sean remained silent. He had lied. There wasn’t a chance in hell the plan would work.
Sean and Luis synchronized their watches. It had taken them just over an hour to negotiate the tunnel under the Rio, another one of Los Zetas’ supply routes. From there, a short hike to the nearest road and with Luis’ scary contacts, a ride into Nuevo was secured with little effort. Sean kept his head down and the weapons well hidden in their packs. Once they had secured their own ride, Sean had started to kit up in the back.