“Raven murdered my father.”
“We don’t know that for sure.”
“He did it.”
“All I’m saying is we need to avoid impulsive decisions and do this right. Engaging Raven in a long-distance shoot-out might not have a favorable ending. We need to take him by surprise on our terms. If what you suspect is true, he’s still quite lethal. We’re going to need a whole lot more information on Macanas’s operation in Santavilla. When we asked if you had a plan, you gave us a goal, not a plan.”
“I need to say something for the record here,” Harv said. “We can’t go to war against any cartels. We don’t have the firepower or the ammunition for a prolonged engagement. We either make a surgical strike, or nothing at all.”
“Harv’s right, Estefan. You all right with that?”
“Yes.”
“Now about your father’s letters… I’m assuming they’re in your home in Managua?”
“Yes.”
Harv asked, “Have you had a chance to look through your father’s things? He might’ve kept a journal or an address book.”
“No, I guess I should’ve done that right away, but my father didn’t really have much. He gave all his money to the church.”
“Then it’s possible whoever killed him has already looked through his belongings,” Nathan said. “Especially if he was killed because he knew something critical or important about Macanas’s operation. We should search his house anyway. The church too.”
“That’s a good idea. Whoever killed my father may have missed something.”
“If all else fails,” Nathan said, “we can always grease some palms. We have a hundred thousand córdobas with us; that’s around $4,000 US. At the right price, everyone’s for sale down here, especially the police, and it’s a good bet they know something.”
“What you’re proposing is risky,” Estefan said. “Especially if we try to bribe the wrong cop. It would be just our luck to pick someone on Macanas’s payroll.”
“Hell, they’re probably all on Macanas’s payroll,” Harv said. “I don’t like the idea of bribing anyone. That could backfire. Someone in Santavilla must know what’s going on. We just have to find out who it is and get them to open up. Thinking about it more, I doubt any of the locals will cooperate. They’ll be worried Macanas will get word of it.”
“Leave that to me,” Estefan said. “They’ll talk.”
“Okay, but keep this in mind: I am not in favor of hurting anyone to get what we need,” Nathan said. “It’s bad enough these people are dirt poor. I don’t want to contribute to anyone’s misery. Let’s try offering some money. I have a feeling it might go a long way. You’re Tobias’s son. From what you told us, the town thought highly of your father. You wouldn’t be perceived as a complete outsider. I’m willing to bet some of them want to see his murderer brought to justice.”
“I’ll try it your way first,” Estefan said.
Nathan continued, “We just need to convince them they have nothing to fear from talking to you. You can use some of the info in your father’s letters to gain their trust. If they realize you’re on their side, they might cooperate.”
“Macanas is their employer,” Harv said.
“You think they’ll protect him to keep their jobs? That’s entirely possible. We won’t know until we make the attempt.” Nathan looked in Lyle’s direction. “Harv and I didn’t get here on our own, and we need to relay our change in plans.”
“Will she be okay with it?”
“She?” Harv raised his eyebrows.
Estefan kept a neutral expression.
Nathan knew it was common knowledge a woman sat in the director’s chair of the CIA. Before he could deny Estefan’s comment, he heard a low whistle. Sergeant Lyle issued a hand signal to form up.
“I’ll be right back.”
Harv stayed behind as Nathan wove his way through the ferns to Lyle’s position where the radio transmitter operator had a small keyboard deployed. The backlit screen was dimmed to a super-low setting.
“We’re up,” Lyle said. “We just received this.”
Nathan bent down to read it. The small screen displayed one word.
STATUS?
Nathan said, “Send this: Situation stable. Messenger familiar. Extraction delayed. Expect further contact within twenty-four hours.”
Lyle’s RTO typed the message and sent it. A few seconds passed before a new message arrived.
COPY. NO UNNECESSARY RISKS. DO NOT ENGAGE.
“Copy that, please,” Nathan said.
Lyle’s man complied.
“We’d like to get off this mountain,” Nathan said. “I don’t know how far away our ride is, but I’ll find out. We’d appreciate a tail if you have time.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem, sir.”
“Thanks, sergeant. Did our man have NV goggles when you intercepted him?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you have a spare set?”
“Yes, sir, we always carry extras.” Lyle motioned to one of his men. The recon came over and took a knee. Lyle accessed the man’s pack and pulled out a pair of goggles — an expensive gift. “Do you have plenty of ammo? Do you want anything else? Some stun or frag grenades? We’ve also got a couple of Claymores.”
“You know, that’s not a bad idea, but we don’t have a lot of backpack space. We’ll take a few stuns and frags. They might come in handy.”
Back at Estefan’s position, Nathan handed him the goggles and gave the explosives to Harv.
“Nice,” Harv said, packing them away.
“Okay, we’re bugging out. How far is your truck?”
“About a mile to the south.”
“Lyle’s team is going to escort us.”
Estefan adjusted the NV visor to fit his head.
Nathan nodded at Estefan’s hip. “Your handgun isn’t suppressed.”
“Understood.”
“Okay, let’s move out.”
They shook hands with Lyle and his men and started down the mountain to the south. Nathan hadn’t asked how Lyle and his men were going to be extracted. It wasn’t something he needed to know and asking would’ve been inappropriate. He had no doubt the recons would exit Nicaragua as covertly as they’d entered.
Nathan and Harv maintained a five-yard separation; Estefan followed twenty yards behind. Even though they had a recon escort, they’d still make a stealthy approach to Estefan’s pickup. The passage of the two trucks ten minutes earlier had probably been harmless, but it was tactically sound to remain on high alert. One or more men could’ve exited the vehicles and set up an ambush. Nathan thought that scenario was unlikely, but he didn’t rule it out.
Nathan logged a mental note to thank Cantrell for the support. Finding the marines had been a pleasant surprise, and their presence reflected favorably on Cantrell’s commitment to get them in and out of Nicaragua safely. Although they wouldn’t see or hear Lyle’s team now, knowing it was back there felt good.
Once they reached a cellular signal closer to Managua, he’d contact Cantrell using the phone she’d supplied and give her a complete update. He’d also ask her to thoroughly look into Paulo Macanas. With a little luck, the CIA might have a file on him. The murder of Estefan’s father — seemingly for educating the miners on basic safety precautions — didn’t seem reasonable. Something else had to be going on. Could Estefan’s father be connected to Macanas? If so, how? He hoped the letters in Estefan’s house would give them some answers.
He had his reservations about helping Estefan, but as long as he and Harv stayed in a support role only, their presence down here should remain secret. Cantrell had told them not to engage, but her meaning could be loosely translated into not to actively engage. As of now, their plan was to retrieve Pastor Tobias’s letters before heading to Estefan’s office for the topos and aerials. They couldn’t plan much more until they had a better picture of the situation. Harv’s point was well taken regarding the townsfolk not wanting to betray their employer, but there had to be somebody willing to talk.