Part 23 (2/2)
”GPS maps them in the motel parking lot. We're in the lot of an abandoned strip mall just to the northwest. I can see the back of the motel from here.”
”What the h.e.l.l are they doing? Why stop this close to the f.u.c.king border!”
”Maybe they're taking a break to refuel and eat. It's a two-story, L-shaped building set back from the road. The inner parking lot is mostly concealed from the road. Not a bad choice for a quick stop.”
”I'm concerned they might take a longer break. Quinn made it clear that he needed to be the driver, for tactical reasons. He'd be on the verge of driving off the road by this point. My guess is they're stopping to rest,” said Jose.
”I don't like it,” said Alpha.
”Neither do I. One of you should head over right now and get a better grasp of the situation.”
”I'll head over,” said Alpha. ”What's the play if this is more than a quick stop for them? We're stretched a little thin here.”
”I'm on Interstate 8, halfway between Gila Bend and Interstate 10. That's two-plus hours from Nogales, so you're it for now.”
His original plan had been to cross paths on the outskirts of Tucson and offer them help avoiding cartel checkpoints and marauding banditos. He'd instructed Alpha to remove any detailed city and state maps from the glove boxes of both SUVs and provide them with vague instructions to skirt west of Tucson. Without a comprehensive area map or onboard GPS navigation system, their chances of successfully navigating the outskirts were nearly nonexistent without help-which Jose would be more than happy to provide.
”I hope they're just stuffing their faces,” said Alpha.
”Me, too. We collapsed the tunnel after crossing back into California. The cartel won't be happy about that, or the fact that we skipped out on our lease. I don't know how far or fast word will spread, but a.s.sume the worst. Keeping Fisher alive is our highest priority.”
”You really think he's worth it?”
”He better be,” said Jose. ”Keep me posted.”
”Copy that. I'll call you as soon as I'm done checking out the motel.”
He lowered the phone, staring into the fiery orange circle slowly breaking free of the horizon. Alpha's team was the only thing standing between the failure and success of Jose's plan. He hoped they would be enough.
CHAPTER 35.
Leeds jolted awake from a deep sleep. Olmos was jamming a finger into his shoulder. It took him a few seconds to regain his bearings in the jet's aft cabin.
”What?” said Leeds.
”Flagg's on the line,” Olmos said, sticking a phone in his face.
He sat up on the leather couch and took the phone, noticing sunlight through the partially opened window. A quick glance at his watch told him he'd been asleep for about two hours. Olmos backed into the doorway that separated the sleeping compartment from the main cabin. Beyond Olmos, the flight crew hustled toward the c.o.c.kpit. Something was up.
”Leeds,” he said into the phone.
”Taking a nap? That's a good way to wake up dead, with the Russians around.”
”They were pretty quiet last night,” said Leeds. ”Looks like your cartel contact came through?”
”I'm fairly confident they have,” said Flagg. ”An SUV carrying three adult pa.s.sengers wearing military-style helmets crossed the border at Nogales around five thirty. They were followed to a Motel 6, where they apparently took a room.”
”They still have motels down there?”
”I thought you'd be more surprised by the fact that they stopped at a motel in the first place.”
The engines started to whine, powering up from the low-fuel-consumption status they had maintained most of the night.
”Only three confirmed pa.s.sengers?”
”The kid may have been sleeping, or maybe he didn't survive your ambush. Frankly, we don't know who crossed the border in that car, but this fits the profile-and the vehicle isn't affiliated with the Sinaloa.”
”It's the only scenario that fits,” said Leeds, leaning across the cabin to raise the shade. Chukov's men were on their feet, slinging their weapons and moving toward the jet's stairs. It was about to get crowded and smelly inside the cabin.
”We'll soon find out,” said Flagg. ”You should arrive at the airport on the United States side in thirty-five minutes. My contact has arranged for the local jefe to meet you with transportation.”
”How much cartel backup can I expect?”
”For the price I've paid, the question is, what do you need?”
”Discreetly placed lookouts, to start,” said Leeds. ”The sooner the better.”
”The guy that followed them is watching their room from the motel office.”
”That'll work,” said Leeds. ”I could use a few dozen men to create a reactive perimeter around the motel. Vehicle based and out of sight.”
”I'll make it happen,” said Flagg. ”Do you want any of the cartel's people directly involved in the attack?”
”From what I've seen so far, Mexicans and Russians don't mix well. I'd prefer to keep them apart when the shooting starts. If the jefe protests, we can use one of his handpicked teams as a direct backup.”
”All right. I'll send maps and satellite imagery to your laptop. Start managing Chukov's expectations again. I'd love to take at least one of the adults alive for questioning, preferably Nathan Fisher,” said Flagg. ”We had a little setback last night in Montana. Our team up there killed Fisher's dad in an unauthorized s.n.a.t.c.h-and-grab, pretty much cutting off any connection to the wife and Stuart Quinn. I don't want any loose ends out there, especially David Quinn.”
The first Russian stepped into the forward cabin, slogging his way toward the back of the plane. Encased in body armor and carrying rifles, he squeezed through the doorway into the luxury seating area.
”Chukov's orders are to kill the Fishers and David Quinn. Period,” said Leeds. ”You need to take that up with Petrov.”
”Just try. I'll pay twenty thousand dollars per surviving adult to each member of the team.”
”What about the kid?”
”He won't know anything useful,” said Flagg. ”I'll be in touch.”
Leeds moved into the main cabin to retrieve his laptop. Chukov's mercenaries had absolutely zero respect for personal property, particularly anything that couldn't directly kill someone. One of the brutes had unceremoniously snapped Olmos's wireless tablet in half with his head while Olmos was driving back from the bunker raid. Apparently, Olmos had asked the Russian to verify their return route to the airport from the CLM bunker, and the idiot couldn't figure out that he needed to remove his gloves to use the tablet screen.
He s.n.a.t.c.hed his laptop from the closest table and retreated back through the doorway. With eight seats in the main cabin, he shouldn't have to share s.p.a.ce with any of these animals. Wishful thinking. Chukov and his a.s.sistant team leader continued toward the back of the plane, ignoring the empty seats.
<script>