“Harv, I’m in place,” he whispered.
“I’m one hundred yards from the dam and slowing my pace to a crawl. I don’t have eyes on G2. He could be hiding on the north side of the river waiting for you. Has G1 reached the tree line yet?”
“Fifteen seconds.” Estefan knew Nathan was hearing their communication.
“Are you concealed?”
“Affirm. I’m halfway up the bank. He’ll pass directly below me.”
“Give me a quick laser burst into the canopy above your position. I want to know exactly where you are.”
He clicked his radio, aimed straight up, and tapped the button on the butt of his gun. His NV made it look as bright as a camera flash, but he knew it would be virtually undetectable to the naked eye.
“I’ve got you. You’re about three hundred yards east of the dam. Sit tight. The gunmen will want to avoid shooting each other, so G1 will advance cautiously along the river. He’ll be expecting you to ambush him, so be patient and stay low.”
Estefan clicked his radio.
The collective buzz of frogs and insects was deafening down here. It had ebbed briefly when he’d disturbed the tree branches before returning to its former volume. At this point he could speak on the radio without much concern. As long as he kept his voice to a whisper, the gunman would never hear him.
He focused on the area to his left and watched super-slow movement turn into a human form.
G1 had his rifle leveled at the hip. Every so often he froze and looked around.
Decent technique, Estefan thought. Keep coming. When G1 closed to within fifty feet, Estefan eased into a prone position and used a small opening under the fallen tree to watch G1’s legs—he couldn’t see the gunman’s upper body. Crap. He hadn’t checked for ants. Lying in a fire ant nest would definitely ruin his evening. It was a careless mistake he hoped wouldn’t prove costly.
Gun in hand, he watched the rise and fall of G1’s boots. In a few more seconds, his pursuer would pass inside five yards of his hiding place.
Estefan reminded himself to breathe.
He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
The guy turned his direction and took two slow, measured steps.
Estefan watched in horror as G1’s boots stopped moving. Could he have been spotted? How was that possible? Estefan could see the laces were double-tied—the guy was that close. Shit!
“I might be blown,” he whispered. “G1 stopped right in front of me.”
“Don’t move,” Harv said. “Give it a few more seconds. Stay calm, Estefan. You’ve seen this before. He’s probably just looking for movement.”
Estefan clicked his radio.
Time seemed to stretch as Estefan waited. What the hell was this clown doing? Maybe he should pop up and nail him before a deadly barrage of bullets sprayed his hiding place.
He was seconds from doing that when a stream of liquid bisected the guy’s boots.
Estefan couldn’t believe it and nearly laughed out loud. “The son of a bitch is taking a piss.”
“I could crack a joke, but I’ll spare you,” Harv said.
“Good grief . . . This guy’s raising the river.”
“They left the lumber mill in a hurry. Your gunshot caught them off guard.”
Estefan watched the waterfall continue for thirty more seconds. Man, this guy really has to go. “Okay, he’s moving again. Do you want me to tail him?”
“Yes, but give me periodic lasers into the canopy so I can keep track of your advance.”
“No problem. Whoever this guy is, he’s moving pretty well. I suspect he’s former military. The only mistake he made was taking that leak.”
“When you gotta go, you gotta go. Keep eyes on him. G2’s well concealed, but I have a feeling once they see each other, they’re going to huddle at the dam to decide what to do. Nathan, did you copy our exchange?”
Estefan heard Nathan’s click. For the moment, he remained motionless. From the opening under the fallen tree, he watched G1’s boots recede toward the dam before maneuvering into a kneeling position. He leaned to his right to keep the gunman in sight. Every ten to twelve steps G1 stopped to clear his six, and Estefan saw the pattern clearly. Tailing him shouldn’t be difficult.
Looking around, Estefan knew why G1 had chosen this spot to relieve himself. It was the same reason Estefan had picked it. The downed tree provided good visual protection from both directions. Years ago it had fallen from the top of the bank at a 45-degree angle to the water. It offered a mushroom-shaped area of deep shadow laced with patchy moonlight. The pattern of silvery light landing on the ground looked similar to the digital pattern of the guy’s combat uniform. Had their situations been reversed, Estefan might’ve chosen the same spot.
He eased over the trunk, checked himself for ants, and began following. “I’m on the move. G1’s about thirty yards ahead of me. I’ll give you a laser into the canopy every thirty steps or so. Any sign of G2?”
“No. Until he makes a move, I probably won’t see him. I left the thermal imager with Nate. I’ll give you several rapid clicks once I have G1 in sight. Once you hear my clicks, hold your position. I don’t want a stray bullet finding you if a firefight ensues.”
“Good hunting,” Estefan said.
After making a slow-motion approach down the footpath, Harv estimated his distance from the dam to be less than thirty yards. He moved off the trail to his left and took a knee. He’d like to be a little closer, but he wasn’t comfortable going any farther because he had no way to know if G2 had already crossed. The guy could be anywhere within a hundred-yard radius. Harv was reasonably sure G2 would focus his attention to the east, along the north side of the river, because that was the direction from which Estefan would be coming.
Harv registered every laser shot Estefan sent into the canopy. Even though the beams weren’t directly visible, the surrounding flash created from their penetrations were. Based on the number and frequency of Estefan’s laser bursts, Harv knew he’d be able to see G1 within the next two minutes. Patience wasn’t one of Harv’s strongest traits. Despite outward appearances, Nathan possessed much better control in situations like this. His friend had an uncanny ability to disconnect his emotions. The light-switch analogy described it perfectly, and right now, Harv had to flip his switch. He couldn’t think of Raven’s gunmen as human beings. They were nothing more than armed thugs who’d readily deliver himself, Estefan, and Nathan into the hands of a sadistic interrogator. Thinking about it in those terms made it possible to kill. Like Nathan, Harv would never allow Estefan—or himself—to be captured and rendered. Not on this marine’s watch.
A vicious image of Nathan’s emaciated body invaded his mind. Not more than thirty miles from here, Nathan had endured three weeks of unspeakable pain and anguish before being left to die in a suspended cage. When Harv had rescued Nathan, his friend hadn’t weighed more than 120 pounds, half his normal weight. Being in this dark jungle environment was a stark reminder of Nathan’s ordeal. But now wasn’t the time to reminisce; he needed to concentrate on his surroundings. Although he doubted there were more than two gunmen pursuing Estefan, he couldn’t be certain. It was possible G3 had avoided detection and joined the hunt.
From his current location he had a pretty good view of the pond created by the earthen dam. In another ten minutes, the moon would sink below the horizon, and it was going to get even darker out here. Unlike cities, remote Nicaraguan villages had no streetlights, lit parking lots, storefronts, or other sources of artificial light. As far as Harv was concerned, Santavilla was one step above stone knives and bearskins.
About seventy yards from the dam, Harv saw the interior of another tree flash, indicating Estefan’s position. If Estefan had gauged his separation accurately, G1 ought to be about forty yards from the dam. Harv focused at that approximate location but saw nothing. The underbrush, in
terspersed with the dark vertical forms of massive trees, was moderately thick on the north side of the river, but it wouldn’t totally obscure a human body—especially someone walking upright.
Patience, Harv told himself. Give it a few more minutes.
There!
He saw G1’s outline. The guy was holding his assault rifle at the hip and advancing in high, calculated steps, careful not to trip over anything.
Silhouetted against the random background, G1’s sharp lines might’ve gone unnoticed, but his forward motion betrayed his location. Estefan was right, the guy was skilled. Harv thought he was doing well given the absence of an NV device. Harv repeatedly clicked his radio, looked in Estefan’s direction, and saw a tree flash three times, indicating Estefan had heard the clicks.
Harv studied G1’s progression carefully, making a mental note of which foot the guy used to resume walking after clearing his six. Not surprisingly, G1 was right-footed. Most right-footers were also right-handed. Harv wanted that info in the unlikely event he ended up in hand-to-hand combat. If all went well, the two gunmen would make their presence known to each other, but it may not happen until they were closer together. If some kind of verbal signal was used, it wouldn’t be easily heard over the forest’s noise unless it was pretty damned loud. Harv put himself into G1’s shoes and knew he had to be feeling a high level of apprehension at this point. If Antonia or the motel owner had relayed Estefan’s description to Raven, the three gunmen would know they were pursuing an opponent who had the appearance of a special forces soldier.
Harv remained motionless, waiting for G2 to reveal himself.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Materializing like a black wraith no more than fifty feet away, G2 stood and started toward the dam.
Harv was no stranger to covert fieldwork, but he still felt his skin tighten at how close the guy had been. At that distance, a fully automatic rifle burst would’ve been fatal. His stealthy approach down the trail hadn’t created any discernible movement or noise. He had no doubt his former recon training had just saved his life. Harv counted his blessings, said a silent thank-you, and thought of something Nate liked to say, “Luck favors the well prepared.”
When G2 reached the dam, Harv eased over to the trail. Staying in a crouch, he advanced toward the dam and made a mental note of the gunman’s tread pattern in the damp soil. He wasn’t too concerned about being seen—the entire area held deep shadow from the massive trees lining the pond. As long as he didn’t make any sudden movements, the ghillie suit would do its job.
“Nathan, Estefan, stand by.”
He received two clicks.
The closer he got to the pond, the louder the frogs became. G2 began hopping from rock to rock as he crossed the dam heading for the far side. Harv thought that was risky given the other gunman hadn’t yet made his presence known.
Or had he?
Harv instinctively froze.
He hadn’t seen any radios, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have them.
Gun up, he slowly took a knee.
Be patient, he told himself again. Do nothing and see what happens. There were times when no action was the best action.
Thinking about it more, Harv seriously doubted they were using radios. Since Estefan hadn’t reported seeing either of the gunmen use a radio, it was likely they had some kind of loose plan to meet at the dam and reassess their situation.
When G2 reached the opposite side, he stepped off the trail, crouched, and stared in the direction of his approaching comrade. Harv doubted G2 had seen any movement yet.
He heard it then, coming from Estefan’s direction.
A high-pitched whistle overpowered the frogs’ noise.
A few seconds later, Harv heard a similar whistle from G2.
Keeping both men in sight, Harv relocated to within thirty feet of the dam and hid behind a waist-high plant.
G1 picked up his pace and waved when he saw his friend. A few seconds later, they met next to the trunk of a massive tree. Harv noted G2 was bigger than his comrade. No doubt they were talking about their next move.
Harv waited, analyzing the situation. If they fanned out in opposite directions, he’d have to take them down separately. That would take time, because he’d have to wait until they were adequately separated before taking the first one down. He’d then have to backtrack and pursue the other gunman from behind. He supposed Estefan could silently kill one of them with his knife, but he didn’t want to put Estefan in that situation if he didn’t have to.
Harv’s answer arrived when the gunmen walked in his direction. It became clear neither of them suspected their opponent had night vision. They were obviously relying on the near blackness down here to conceal their movement.
Harv aimed his Sig but didn’t activate its laser.
With G2 on point, both men navigated the rocks and crossed the dam.
He confirmed G1 had his finger off the trigger. He could clearly see the man’s forefinger in a straight position on the outside of the trigger guard.
He let them advance a few more steps.
Harv extended his Sig over the top of the bush.
Now!
He painted his laser center mass on the lead gunman and double tapped him. His expression confused, G2 collapsed.
Before G1 could react, Harv nailed him in the chest with two quick shots.
Even with two chest wounds, G1 managed to level his rifle at the source of the suppressed shots. Harv shot him in the face before he could discharge his automatic weapon.
He fired a final round into G2’s head to end the man’s writhing.
In less than four seconds, he’d fired six shots and scored six hits. His emotional switch remained turned off, but Harv felt remorse at killing two men like this. It hardly seemed fair. They never had a chance. Them or us, he reminded himself, then pressed his transmit button. “G1 and G2 are down.”
He knew Nathan wouldn’t say “good job” or “well done.” Now wasn’t the time for back-patting or compliments.
“No change in town,” Nathan said. “I don’t have eyes on Antonia or G3 with NV or the TI.”
“Copy. Estefan, double-time over here. We need to conceal these bodies.”
“On my way.”
Harv approached the dead men and wished this hadn’t been necessary. During their scout sniper missions and subsequent covert ops with the CIA, Nate had done 99 percent of the killing. Nevertheless, Harv had felt equally responsible for each death even though pulling the trigger was quite different from making range, wind, and elevation calls.
He reached down and confirmed both men were dead. At least neither of them had suffered longer than a few seconds.
“I’ve got you,” Estefan said. “South side of the dam.”
In that moment, Harv knew what to do next.
Cowering inside the recycle Dumpster behind the post office, Antonia hadn’t heard anything in a long time and wondered what she should do. Thankfully, there was only paper and cardboard in here. She slid the flattened boxes she’d used for concealment aside, cracked the bin’s plastic lid, and peered through the narrow opening. She didn’t know how long she’d been hiding in here, but it felt like hours. One thing was certain, she sure as hell didn’t want to get shot at again. She’d seen the red laser beam a split second before the bullet plowed the ground in front of her. Raw panic had seized her, a wholly unpleasant state of mind. She’d been panting like a dog when she’d scrambled into the bin. Ten seconds later, her body had begun an uncontrollable shiver, and she’d nearly vomited at the thought of the shooter opening the Dumpster’s lid to finish her off. She’d been utterly helpless and thoroughly shamed. Franco could never know about this; he’d dump her for sure.
Once her mind calmed, she questioned who’d shot at her. It had to be Tobias’s son, but why would he do it? He seemed to c
are about her. It didn’t make sense. Could he have missed shooting her on purpose? If so, why? Maybe he wanted her to react exactly like she had. Maybe he was teaching her a lesson and wanted her to go home. If that was his intent, it worked. She’d had her fill of action for the evening. She climbed out of the recycle bin and followed the rear wall of the post office to its southwest corner. It took her a moment to build up enough nerve to peer around the corner.
Was that movement? She could’ve sworn she saw something on the south end of town. She held perfectly still and stared toward the bridge. There it was again. Thirty seconds later, the movement turned into two dark shapes walking down the middle of the road.
One of them was in front of the other, and it looked like the guy in front was a prisoner. His arms were behind his back, and he walked with a slight limp. The guy behind was holding a rifle at the hip. It looked like he had a backpack with something bulky dangling on the outside. As they got closer, she confirmed the first guy was definitely a prisoner. Then she saw him clearly, and despite her frazzled state, Antonia managed a smile. Perhaps the evening wasn’t a total disaster after all. One of Franco’s men had captured Tobias’s son and was marching him up the road. It felt good to see Estefan Delgado caught and helpless. He certainly wouldn’t be shooting at her again.
Without conscious thought, Antonia decided what she’d do: follow them at a safe distance wherever they were going. If Franco planned to interrogate the guy, she wanted to watch and learn how to do it.