Contract to Kill

  “Our ghillie suits will help too,” Harv said.

  Nathan and Harv’s handmade ghillie suits were vital pieces of gear. Consisting of pants and a poncho-like coat, once donned, they broke up the sharp edges of a human form by employing thousands of tattered pieces of fabric. A motionless wearer looked much like a shaggy bush or small tree.

  “I think one of us should be positioned inside the pit somewhere, maybe near or in one of those abandoned vehicles.” Nathan thought for a moment. “Scratch that. Those might be the first places they’d search.”

  He asked Harv to zoom in on certain features like the abandoned cars and the buildings. As Nathan suspected, all the structures’ windows had been destroyed long ago. Same with the vehicles.

  “Maybe there’s a good place to hide inside this collapsed conveyor belt,” Harv offered.

  “We’ll give it a look from the rim.”

  “So what are the rules of engagement here?” Harv asked.

  “We’ll have to see how things shake out,” Nathan said. “We know Alisio’s arriving with the cash, Philharmonics, and diamonds, and the South Koreans are bringing the counterfeit pesos in duffel bags. Mason might want all of it, but if he had to settle for one or the other, he’d pick Alisio’s half of the equation. It’s much more portable than the bulky duffel bags.”

  Grangeland nodded. “The cash, diamonds, and gold would be my priority too.”

  “Right. So you might expect him to wait for the exchange to occur, then raid Alisio’s payment from the Koreans on their way out. The wild card, though, is Alisio’s presence at the exchange.”

  “The revenge motive,” Harv said.

  “Exactly. If Mason got word that Alisio’s going to be here, then he may see it as an unplanned bonus.”

  “Why’s Alisio coming?” Grangeland asked.

  “There’s no way to know. Beaumont told us this counterfeit-money thing is a new venture for Alisio; he probably wants to be there for the first exchange.”

  “And Alisio’s presence would be seen as a show of good faith,” Harv said. “That he’s willing to stand behind his money, so to speak. But speaking of Alisio, let’s say Mason does hit the Koreans after the exchange. Alisio’s not going to stand idly by while someone rips off his business partners, right? For one thing, he’s gonna feel threatened. For another, if his people don’t fight back, the South Koreans will assume he’s behind the heist. They might end up shooting at each other.”

  “Which could be Mason’s plan,” Grangeland said.

  “It’s entirely possible. They thin each other out, and he mops up the rest.” Nathan thought for a moment. “Pulling this off is a tall order for Mason’s team of three. Like us, they haven’t had a lot of time to plan.”

  “Are you thinking they’ll bring some extra bodies? BSI personnel?” she asked.

  “That’s another variable we can’t predict,” Nathan said. “We’ll deal with what we’re facing as best we can.” He wished he had a squad of Recons to supplement their effort, but this had been an under-the-table operation from the start. Lansing had made that abundantly clear.

  “Back to what’s gonna happen down there,” he said. “If what Ramiro heard is accurate, the South Koreans will have a North Korean gemologist with them, and he’ll need time to examine the diamonds and Philharmonics. He may not check every one, but I doubt the South Koreans will leave without checking a large random sampling. That means a long wait while both parties are in the quarry. Given that, do you still think Mason waits to make his move until after the exchange?”

  Grangeland spoke first. “Yeah, I do. We can safely assume there will be multiple vehicles arriving, and Mason will need to know which one to hit on the way out. He won’t know that until the end when everyone is leaving.”

  “So he’ll hide and observe until they’re ready to leave, then make his move.”

  “Yes,” Grangeland said. “That makes the most sense to me.”

  Nathan nodded in agreement. “Me too. Like Mason, we’ll have to sit tight and observe what initially happens. We don’t know who’s who either. But keep in mind that our targets are Mason, Hahn, and Lyons. We’ll try not to kill anyone else, but if the situation warrants it, we shoot first and ask questions later.” Harv knew the gig, but Nathan needed to be clear Grangeland fully understood their situation. He looked at her, waiting for an acknowledgment, but she seemed to be evaluating what she’d just heard. “Special Agent Grangeland, we are in a shoot-to-kill situation. Period. All you have to do is imagine what they’d do to you if they take you prisoner. I’ll guarantee you’ll wish you’d killed them.”

  “I’m shooting to kill,” she said with conviction.

  “Have you ever—”

  “No,” she interrupted, “but it won’t be a problem.”

  Nathan nodded approval and grabbed the rifle cases from the seats behind the cockpit. “Mason’s crew will likely have vests on. We brought armor-piercing ammo for all of our weapons. I’m assuming your service piece is a Glock 22 like Holly’s?”

  “Yes. But I didn’t bring it. I’ve got my old Sig 226 in forty.”

  “You’re in luck. We brought our 226s in forty as well. We’ll give you a couple of spare mags. We’ll also swap out your ammo with our AP rounds. Harv and I have a couple of suppressed 226s in nine mil. Those subsonic rounds won’t penetrate their vests, but they’ll bruise ribs. Our forties may or may not penetrate their vests, so let’s make sure we follow up with head shots. Our rifles will definitely punch through. Harv and I will have Remington 700s in 308. Are you okay with a Springfield M1A? It’s match conditioned with a night-vision scope and thermal capability.”

  “No problem. I know that weapon well.”

  Nathan handed the M1A to Grangeland.

  “This is a beautiful rifle.” She pulled the bolt back and looked in the chamber. “Just checking.”

  “As you should.”

  “What’s its zero?”

  “Three hundred yards.”

  “How accurate?”

  “Very. It’ll hold a six-inch group at six hundred yards.”

  “That’s way better than I am.”

  “Don’t worry, that will be Harv’s job.”

  “Harv’s a shooter?”

  “Absolutely. We used to alternate on ops. It kept both of us sharp. Harv’s better at wind calls, and I’m better beyond six hundred, but basically we’re interchangeable. Remember to keep the rubber boot tight to your face while the NV’s turned on, or you’ll light yourself up like a Christmas tree. Keep the rifle firmly shouldered; the soft rubber boot will absorb the kick.”

  “I volunteer to be down in the pit,” she said.

  “I appreciate the offer, but that’s my job.”

  Harv didn’t say anything, but Nathan knew his friend was concerned about splitting up.

  Nathan continued. “We’ve got a huge area to cover.” He pointed to the borrow pit on the screen. “Let’s partition it like a football stadium. The north side is the highest point. We’ll call that section one. Moving in a clockwise direction, each ten-degree span will be a section, kinda like a real stadium. The south end where the lake nearly flows out is section eighteen, representing one hundred eighty degrees. So if I say I saw someone at section nine, upper deck, everyone looks to the eastern rim. If I say section twenty-seven loge, everyone focuses at the west side about halfway up the pit. Everyone follow?”

  “Got it,” Harv said.

  “Grangeland?”

  “Got it,” she said. “My dad took me to a few 49ers games. I think the stadium references will work great. Field level will be the lowest tier, pond, and buildings.”

  “Exactly. The loge is the middle two tiers, and upper deck is the top two tiers and rim. We’ll use standard clock references for our respective positions, so it’s important we all understand each other’s orientati
ons. We’ll verify that by radio after we’re in position. When we reach the rim of the pit, we’ll use the range finder to get some exact distances. Let’s get ready to move out.”

  While Harv closed his laptop and put it on the floor of the rear compartment, Nathan scanned up and down the wash with field glasses again. His friend then grabbed their backpacks, waist packs, and ghillie suits from the storage compartment. They only had two ghillies, and only he and Harv had experience working in them. Grangeland would have to rely on her desert MARPATs for concealment. Nathan watched his friend conduct a quick check of the handguns, making sure they were ready to shoot with rounds in the chambers.

  “Everyone check their phones for a connection. I’ve got three bars.”

  “Me too,” Harv said.

  Grangeland had the same.

  “Make sure they’re on silent and pocket them with the screens facing in. Night vision can see their glow through clothing. Even facing inward, they’re still visible, just not as brightly. We may have to turn them off completely to prevent an untimely illumination from an incoming signal or text.”

  “Before we go,” Harv said, “I’m going to show Grangeland how to activate the helicopter’s emergency-locator transmitter. You never know.”

  “Good idea. If all else fails, she can hustle out here and flip the switch. Why don’t you set the radio to ‘Guard,’ so she can transmit a distress message? One more thing, this mission is off the books. We can’t call 911 unless one of us is quite literally bleeding to death.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” she said.

  “We have to pretend 911 isn’t an option. We’ll have to solve our own problems out here.”

  Grangeland slowly nodded.

  After Harv set the Bell’s radio to 121.5 and showed Grangeland the master switch and ELT, he locked the helicopter. “I’m hiding the key under this rock over here.” Harv took a few seconds to create some random footprints around the area to mask the trail over to the rock and back.

  “Let’s get moving,” Nathan said. “Ten-yard separation. Once we’re out of this wash, we’ll double-time it over to the rock quarry. I’m on point. Harv will take six.”

  With the helicopter secure, they diverted to an area where the bank of the sandy ravine wasn’t as steep and scrambled up the slope. Nathan took a final look at the helicopter, then began a medium-paced jog due east.

  The terrain was dotted with low, scrubby bushes, creosote, yucca, and saguaro cactus. The cactus reminded Nathan of the old Quick Draw McGraw cartoons he used to watch as a kid, but he couldn’t remember the name of Quick Draw’s little sidekick. Funny, the things a person thought about when facing a life-or-death situation. Maybe it was a protection mechanism insulating him from the harsh truth of having to kill again. Either way, he didn’t question it. He’d stayed sane so far . . .

  Every two minutes, Nathan put everyone on hold and conducted a sweep of the area with his field glasses. Grangeland and Harv did the same. Of all the environments on earth—and Nathan had worked in all types—he liked deserts best. He also knew the Mojave well. The last time he’d been in the Mojave, Lauren had been with him. He still couldn’t believe how well she’d handled herself. An amazing kid. He hoped things had settled down with her mom.

  They crossed the dirt track they’d seen from the air, but Nathan wasn’t worried about leaving footprints this far from the rim. After traversing another dry wash of rock-strewn sand, they still couldn’t see the borrow pit. Nathan thought it was another quarter mile or so.

  A few minutes later, they stopped at a barbed wire fence. It appeared to follow an unmaintained road that was little more than two tire ruts. Nathan issued a hand signal to form a huddle.

  “If anyone’s down in the pit, we’ll know soon enough. No quick movements from here on.” Harv already knew the drill—Nathan said it to remind Grangeland. They carefully stepped over the old fence and approached the west side of the rim in a crouch.

  “Try to minimize footprints,” Nathan said. “Alisio might send people up here, probably will.”

  There was no warning: the ground suddenly ended, and they were looking over a sheer drop-off. The rusty barbed wire probably saved lives. At night, you could easily walk over this precipice.

  “Holy shit,” Grangeland whispered. “This makes my knees weak.” A gust of wind moved her ponytail, and she grabbed the bill of her hat.

  Nathan and Harv scanned the pit carefully with their field glasses. Still no one in sight. Nathan eased forward and peered over the edge.

  “You’re making me really nervous,” she said.

  “I just want a quick look.”

  Grangeland was right: this was one massive hole. The upper tier’s wall wasn’t as steep as the lower levels, but from this perspective, it looked straight down. The thirty-foot fall to the next tier would yield a very unhappy result. On the north side of the pit, he saw where bulldozers had moved up and down the tiers. A zigzagging series of switchbacks worked its way up the walls of the pit. Other than the perimeter, where the excavated hole merged with the mountain’s natural slope, it was the only place to move up and down the pit without using rock climbing gear.

  Harv pointed to the east at the Senator Wash Reservoir visible from their vantage point. “I was wondering why this borrow pit was here. There’s our answer.”

  “The fill material for the dams,” Grangeland said.

  “Yep,” Harv said.

  Looking at the collapsed conveyor belt at the south end of the pit, Nathan saw it would make a good place to conceal himself. The contraption looked to be 150 feet long and five feet wide. In most places, it lay heavily on the ground, but a few spots buckled upward from its collapse. In a crouch, he should be able to traverse back and forth along its length without being seen. If he had to make a quick retreat, he could bolt over to the pond and use its drop in elevation for cover. He didn’t like retreating to lower ground, but it beat being trapped inside the twisted steel of the conveyor.

  Next, he studied the bottleneck. The access road serving the pit was carved into the north side of a canyon sandwiched between two mountain peaks. At the bottleneck, one side of the road sloped up the rocky terrain; the other dropped away into a dry creek. For about a hundred yards, there was no place to leave the road. If Nathan were to attack, he’d choose that location. All Mason would have to do is disable a vehicle and the road would be blocked.

  “Harv, do you still like the saddle on the north side of the canyon above the access road as a shooting position?”

  “It looks good from here. It’s got a clear line of sight to the conveyor and buildings. I’m not seeing much for cover though. It looks like an open area.”

  Grangeland asked, “What about that big rock outcropping above the saddle?”

  “I like it better,” Harv said. “It’s more defensible.”

  “Harv, how long will it take you to relocate down to the rock outcropping from the peak?”

  “Depends on how stealthy you want me to be. It’s at least five hundred yards.”

  “Here’s what I’m thinking: you start at the top where you can keep an eye on the river and the reservoirs, then drop down when you see vehicles approaching.”

  “If I don’t have to worry about being seen, I can probably make it in three or four minutes. It’s not super steep.”

  “Grangeland, we’ll put you on the opposite side of the access road, about two hundred yards up the canyon’s slope. I’m seeing a few places that look good. Pick a spot where you can see the bottleneck and flat area of the pit. You’re my artillery. You can lay down a lot of fire if needed. You’ve got four hundred rounds in twenty magazines in your pack; that’s why it’s so heavy. Harv and I have fifty rounds each, but our bolt-action rifles are slower to fire and reload. Like I said before, your weapon sight can switch between thermal or NV, or use a combo of each.”

>   “You’ll need to show me how it works.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’m going to get some distances.” Harv took out the range finder and rattled off some numbers to the buildings, the conveyor, and other landmarks in the hole. Harv reported the east rim was just over 750 yards away and the center of the pit was half that distance.

  Nathan asked, “If I have to shoot up here from the conveyor, what’s the hold if I don’t click it in?”

  “Best guess? About twenty inches above your three hundred zero.”

  Nathan nodded toward the saddle they’d located on the video. “Shoot the rock outcropping above the saddle.”

  Harv brought the device to his eye. “Eleven hundred yards. Given my current skill level, that’s beyond my effective range. From down there, I’ll be able to put some suppression fire on the rim up here, but don’t ask me to score a hit.”

  “Suppression’s good enough. The reverse is also true. No one’s going to shoot you guys from up here.”

  “That’s a comforting thought,” Grangeland said.

  “You okay?”

  “I don’t like heights.”

  “How far is the saddle from the center of the pit?” Nathan waited while Harv shot the pit and did the subtraction.

  “About seven hundred twenty-five yards.”

  “Grangeland, you okay at that distance?” Nathan asked.

  “For center-mass shots, yes. I’ll need wind and elevation corrections, though.”

  “We’ll give you those once you’re in place. Now that we’ve seen the layout close-up, any new thoughts?” Nathan asked.

  Harv pointed to the bottleneck in the access road. “If Mason’s looking to ambush them before or after the exchange, he might make his move there. The vehicles can’t leave the road.”

  “True,” said Grangeland, “but ambushing at the bottleneck separates them from their rides. They’d have to park at a distance and hike in on foot. I suppose they could do a combination. They could have Lyons staged somewhere with a vehicle while Mason and Hahn attack on foot. After they make the hit, Lyons races in and picks them up. The Philharmonics and diamonds won’t be bulky. But two million in gold bullion has got to weigh close to a hundred pounds.”