Their field interrogation complete, Harv moved quickly, removing the man’s pants and slicing the legs into long ribbons. He used them like makeshift lengths of rope to both gag their prisoner and tie his hands and feet together behind his back. He and Estefan then dragged him across the gravel and left him twenty feet short of the office.
Harv whispered, “I’ll take the right. It’s about the size of a two-car garage in there, so clear your nine o’clock first. Your head okay?”
“I’m good.”
“NV off?”
Estefan nodded.
Both of them pivoted their goggles up and pulled their Sigs.
Harv reared back and kicked the office door with all his strength.
CHAPTER 29
The door flew open with a violent bang, breaking its shaded window.
Harv rushed inside and pivoted to his right. To their immediate left, Raven’s white shirt sprang forward from a couch to grab an assault rifle just beyond his reach.
Estefan painted his laser on the man’s chest and yelled, “Don’t do it!” The man looked at the rifle lying on the coffee table before retreating back onto the couch. “Good boy.”
Harv’s threat was at his two o’clock position. A small man pushed back from a huge desk and made a mad dash for the corner of the room.
Harv knew right away. This was the bean counter.
More importantly, an open safe loomed in the corner.
Harv couldn’t see any contents; its partially open door blocked his view.
Clearly, the bean counter intended to close it.
Harv yelled, “Stop!”
Ignoring his command, Bean grabbed the heavy steel door and began pushing with all his strength.
Harv painted his laser on a chubby forearm and fired a single shot.
The suppressed report sounded like a heavy book being dropped on carpet.
Two feet above the floor, a red splotch materialized on the wall next to the safe. The meaty arm fell away.
“Stop!” Harv yelled again.
With one arm, Bean continued pushing.
Harv adjusted his aim.
A metallic clank filled the room as a second slug passed through the guy’s other forearm and careened off the green steel door. The bullet plowed into the side of the desk, splintering its wood.
The white shirt shielded his eyes.
Without the use of his arms, Bean’s efforts were over. He collapsed to the hardwood floor and pulled his wounded arms into his stomach. Blood was oozing but not gushing.
The momentum of the safe’s door kept it going. It clanged against its jamb and harmlessly bounced back a few inches. Its lever arm had to be cranked to engage the locking rods.
“You stupid motherfuckers!” Bean cried in Spanish.
“I’ve got ’em both,” Harv told Estefan, also in Spanish. “Clear those doors.”
Estefan rushed over to the north wall and kicked open the door. He darted inside and yelled, “Bathroom. Clear!” He yanked a second door open and pivoted to face it. “Empty closet.”
Harv looked at Bean. “Had enough?”
The guy hissed through clenched teeth. “If you dumbasses walk away, I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“Get up.”
The little man didn’t move.
Harv aimed the Sig’s shimmering laser on the floor between Bean’s legs and fired a third round. More splinters flew.
“I’m not going to ask again. The next one finds that uninhabited melon you call a head.”
With a hateful expression, Bean used his elbows to gain his knees, then ungracefully labored into a standing position.
“On the couch, next to your friend.”
His fingers dripping blood, Bean moved across the room and plopped down, grunting from the jolt. The top of his bald head barely cleared the couch.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Harv said with mock sincerity. He took a few seconds to scan the room for security cameras but saw none. He had twelve rounds left in the Sig; no need to load a new magazine.
Estefan kept his laser locked on the white shirt’s chest and moved to a better location to see the entire room. “Keep your hands where I can see them and stand up.”
White was about Estefan’s size, but ten years younger. The wispy mustache didn’t do anything for him. The man complied, grudgingly. “Do you know who owns this place?”
“We’ll be asking the questions from now on,” Harv replied. “Keep facing me and reach back. Lift up the cushions.”
White extended his right hand.
“Other hand,” Harv ordered and kept a neutral expression at seeing a Beretta 92 concealed under the middle cushion. He told White to step away from it.
Taking a wide berth around Bean, Harv grabbed the pistol, ejected its magazine, and cycled the slide. A live round cartwheeled to the floor. After reinserting the 92’s mag, he put the weapon in his thigh pocket. He unloaded the HK assault rifle before tossing it into the corner of the room behind Estefan. Blood had already pooled in Bean’s lap. Without pressure bandages, blood loss would become critical in the next twenty minutes.
Harv looked at White. “Take your shirt off.” When the guy just stared, Harv forcefully said, “Do it now.”
White unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off.
“Toss it over.” Harv holstered his Sig, pulled his Predator, and cut the shirt into wide strips. Looking down at Bean, he said, “I’m going to tie off your wounds. If you try anything cute, I’ll let you bleed out. Are we clear on that?”
“You’re an asshole,” Bean said.
“Lose the tough guy attitude.”
“Better let his sex partner apply the field dressings,” Estefan said. “There’s no telling what diseases that little runt has. Personally, I’d let him die. You’d be doing him — and the world — a favor.”
“Fuck you,” Bean spat, then winced.
Harv knew firsthand that bullet wounds were hideously painful. He looked at White. “You know how to field dress those wounds?”
White nodded.
Harv threw the cloth strips onto the coffee table, swapped his Predator for his Sig, and pointed it at White. “Please proceed slowly,” Harv said. “This weapon has a two-pound trigger, and we wouldn’t want any accidental discharges.”
Harv ignored the safe for now; his priority was getting these two men squared away. It took a minute for White to get Bean’s arms bandaged, but the guy did a decent job.
He ordered White to have a seat next to his buddy and handed Estefan the knife. “Cut me some strips from the sofa’s fabric, and test them for strength. Cut up as many as you need. We’re going to secure our three guests back-to-back around the wooden post in the middle of the room. I want their wrists bound in front of them with their elbow joints secured to one another. Right to left and left to right.”
“No problem.”
Harv used this opportunity to update Nate on their break-in and the two additional men in custody. He told Nate about the safe and Bean’s defiant effort to close it.
“It can wait until after you’ve secured the men. Who knows, there might be something we can use against Raven and Macanas. Maybe the bean counter keeps a ledger in there. We’ll go through it later.”
“The barracks are fifty yards away on the north side of the lumber mill’s main building. I need to send Estefan over there to verify no one’s home. If anyone’s over there, I doubt they heard our entry into the office.”
“You shouldn’t be alone in the lumber mill’s office with no eyes outside. Sit tight. I can be there in a few minutes.”
“Antonia’s feet are tethered.”
“I’ll carry her.”
Harv could only imagine her expression at hearing that. “Nate, she’s one hundred twenty pounds, and you’ve got five hundred yards to cover.”
“You carried me through two miles of pitch-black jungle when I weighed one hundred twenty pounds.”