Riley broke the surface and took a few deep breaths. His body was shaking from the cold. He hoped the cable was cut-able. It should be, since the cache report had said to bring a knife. Gripping the knife in his hand, he dove again. Working his way around the bundle, he finally found the anchor cable. To his numbed fingers, it felt like rope. Probably attached to a heavy rock the attaché had found somewhere close by to use as an anchor. Riley sawed at the rope with the knife until he couldn't stay down any longer.
It took Riley two more trips before the rope parted and the cache popped to the surface. Hanging onto the cache with his numbed fingers, Riley pulled it to shore. Beaching the bundle, he dragged himself out of the water. He was shivering so badly it took a tremendous amount of willpower to rouse himself. He grabbed his clothes and, after inadequately drying himself with his sweatshirt, he pulled them on. Riley wanted to kick himself for forgetting to bring a towel.
He glanced at his watch. He had forty-five minutes before Kate did her first pass by on the road below. After that it would be once every hour. He knew there was much to be done tonight and decided to get going immediately. Besides, the walk down would warm him up.
He inspected the cache more carefully. It was a box about two feet by five wrapped in plastic sheets. An unwieldy package at best. Riley picked it up and carefully balanced it on his shoulder. He estimated it weighed about fifty pounds. He took off down the path, determined to follow it all the way to the road rather than beating cross-country through the brush. If he ran into someone that would be that person's tough luck, because Riley was in no mood to mess around.
As he walked, he felt his body warm up from the exercise. The box dug into his shoulder and slipped a few times as he descended. Finally, about ten meters ahead he saw the dark line of the road. He checked his watch. Five minutes to eleven. He edged up to the road and quickly crossed. Settling in behind some bushes he waited.
Finally he heard the muted rumble of a car heading his way from the north. He peered up the road and watched. Two headlights came into view. Riley smiled in relief as he saw the brights flash on and off three times in rapid succession. Looking back to make sure no cars were coming from the opposite direction, he stepped out into the road and lit his lighter. The car swung off the road next to him and stopped. Riley opened the back door and slid in the bundle. He crammed himself in next to it.
Westland pulled back out into the road and continued heading south. "How'd it go?"
"Could you turn the heat on, please? I had to take a swim. I hate cold water. That attaché did a good job putting it in. I just hope it has everything."
As Westland drove, Riley tore through the protective wrapping with his knife, uncovering a plastic case sealed with duct tape. He cut the tape and opened the lid. The contents had been individually waterproofed. Riley unwrapped each item carefully.
The largest was a rifle: an M21 sniper rifle. Riley still wasn't sure how he would hit the Ring Man, but he wanted to have the capability to do it from a distance if the opportunity presented itself. The M21 was a match grade M14 rifle with the upper receiver glazed into the lower with fiberglass to prevent any movement between those parts. With the rifle were two magazines of ten rounds each of national match 7.62mm ammunition and an ART2 scope already mounted. Riley had asked that the scope be zeroed in and he hoped it hadn't been jostled out of alignment during the emplacement and recovery of the cache. Riley felt confident he could hit the Ring Man out to a kilometer, maybe more, with this system if he got the chance. He placed the rifle on the floor.
Next, he unwrapped the second-largest package. A short, bulky muzzle soon appeared, attached to a collapsing-stock submachine gun. It was an MP5SD3 mounted with a silencer, just like the one he had carried on the missions. There were twenty thirty-round magazines of 9mm ammunition in the box. Ten of those magazines were already in the pockets of an assault vest. Riley slapped a magazine into the weapon and loaded it. He placed it next to himself on the seat and put on the vest.
Next he pulled out two similar small packages. Unwrapping them disclosed two canvas bags, each holding a Claymore mine with time pencil, remote clacker, and trip wire. Riley wasn't sure how he would use the mines but they opened up possibilities. A plastic case contained a set of PVS-5s with four spare batteries. Riley unscrewed the battery cover and put one of the batteries in the goggles.
The last two packages were also identical. Each contained a Beretta 9mm pistol in a shoulder holster. There were six fifteen-round magazines with each weapon. Riley strapped his on, put the rifle and Claymores back into the plastic case, and climbed over the passenger seat into the front. He placed the other pistol on the seat next to Westland. "Got you a gift. Don't ever say I never gave you anything. You can take that Colt out of your pants now. Must be kind of uncomfortable."
Westland smiled as she negotiated the road. "Thanks. Maybe I'll get you something for Christmas."
Riley had been so busy unwrapping his toys, he had lost track of their whereabouts. "Where are we?"
"We made the turn onto route 46 about a minute ago. You're done just in time. Another two klicks and we should be at the turnoff for the warehouse."
Riley looked around. This road was more heavily traveled than the one to Ring Man's villa. "Go past the turnoff and see if you can find a place to pull over."
Riley spotted the driveway the same time as Westland did. He could make out lights and the edge of the warehouse the sicario had described to him. Westland went about four hundred meters past the turnoff and then pulled off the road, edging the car between the asphalt and the drainage ditch.
Riley grabbed the MP5 and one of the Claymore bags. "Let's go." He slipped the night-vision goggles over his head and turned them on.
Westland locked the doors and then followed, strapping on her Beretta. She kept the Colt tucked into the waist of her jeans. Riley led the way through the trees, slowing his pace for Westland, who kept her hand on his back and blindly followed him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Riley pulled off his goggles and peered at the warehouse. He blinked for a few seconds to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. Westland stood beside him in the shadows, her shoulder touching his.
"What now?" she whispered in his ear.
Riley spent a few moments surveying the scene. The warehouse was a squat building measuring approximately fifty meters by seventy-five. A loading dock with two large bay doors encompassed the side they faced. Two tractor trailers were backed up to the loading dock, which was dimly lit by several light bulbs. The tail ends of two cars were visible parked on the left side of the building where the road to the highway came in. Riley imagined that the office and personnel door were over there. The building had no windows that he could see on this side.
All Riley knew was that Maria might be in this warehouse. The whole setup could even be a trap. Any plan was going to have to be an improvisation at best. "All right. We got two cars and two trailers. Two cars means there might be anywhere from two to eight people in there. We don't know if they're all bad guys or if this is a legitimate business or what the hell is inside. We're going to play this by ear.