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Authors: Russell Blake

JET - Sanctuary (26 page)

BOOK: JET - Sanctuary
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She smiled for the first time since he’d picked her up on the bridge. “You have to ask that after what I just pulled off?”

“Perhaps a poor choice of words,” he agreed.

“Anything can be done if you have the motivation and the skill. You mentioned that you have ex-commandos in your group?”

“Yes. We hire only the best.”

“I need three men with good climbing skills who are highly competent with weapons.”

“I can arrange that.”

“We’ll need climbing gear – rappelling rope, pitons, carabiners, the works. And compact assault rifles with night scopes, noise and flash suppressors…and grenades. Oh, and transmission-jamming gear.”

Alejandro didn’t blink. “Why only four of you?”

“Any more and we increase the risk of detection. And frankly, if we can’t do this with four, we won’t be able to do it with ten.” She thought for a moment. “On the rifles, we’ll want fully automatic weapons.”

“Of course.”

“Preferably with high accuracy. That rules out burp guns. Figure we’ll want weapons that are good for at least four hundred yards.”

“No tracers?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Can you get some?”

“I’m kidding. Although yes, I probably could. We have access to everything that gets lost on bases all over Chile. You’d be surprised how much goes missing.”

“We don’t need tracers. Although a few RPGs might come in handy, as well as some smoke grenades, too.”

“Should I be making a list?”

“How soon can you have it ready?”

“I’ll ask Hector. My guess is a couple of hours. Somebody is going to have to round it all up from the safe houses we use as armories.”

She checked the time. “That would be, what, around one thirty a.m.?”

“Something like that.”

“What about the men?”

“Hector will select them. He knows everyone in my father’s organization. I’ll make it clear we want the very best.”

“Good. We’ll want to roll out of here no later than two, and that will put us up there by, what…three thirty or four?”

“That sounds right. But you haven’t told me what the plan is.”

She pointed at the base of the cliff. “See that path? It’s faint, but it looks to me like a game trail. Maybe more goats. The nearest intersecting road is this one.” She zoomed out and tapped a finger against the screen. “That ground could be covered in fifteen minutes. My thinking is that we go in by foot, scale the cliff, and then kill anything that moves.”

His expression didn’t change. “Not really a cliff, is it? More like a series of steep slopes.”

“Close enough. It’s not going to be easy to climb, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

It was his turn to smile. “I’ve done worse.”

She appraised him. “How much of that whiskey did you drink?”

He toasted her with his cola. “None. You were right. I need my wits about me. What you don’t know is that in my misspent youth I was an avid climber. I’d climbed half the Andes by the time I was out of school. And that’s nothing by the looks of it.” He considered the image again. “Maybe not nothing, but it’s certainly achievable. Look, up by the top it’s a gradual drop, then there are those trees, and then a steeper drop. It’s just a matter of which area we decide to climb.”

She took a long sip of her drink and set the glass down carefully. “We?”

“You don’t think that after everything you’ve done tonight I’d let you do this on your own, do you?”

“But your father–”

“Assuming he pulls through, which we should know for sure soon enough, there’s no reason I can’t spare the rest of my night to go on an outing with you. After the mine, this will be like a vacation.”

“I wouldn’t quite say that.”

He slapped his hand down on the table. “Then it’s decided. Rifles, subsonic ammo, smoke and regular grenades, RPGs…anything else?”

“Pistols and night vision goggles.”

“Ah, right.”

He stood. “I’ll go make our requirements known. Hector’s too old for this, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to have him tied up to stop him from coming.”

Jet’s voice grew quiet. “Alejandro, what about your brother?”

“I’ll let my father deal with that. Thank God I don’t have to. I’ll give him all the information and let him make the call.”

She watched him exit the rear door and walk down the steps. It would be risky, there was no doubt, but in her operational days she’d done far more difficult. Then again, she’d also been considerably younger and hyperfit, her training ongoing and as demanding as any in the world.

But this time it was Matt and her daughter she was fighting for, not some anonymous target or nameless objective.

Which made all the difference in the world.

 

Chapter 34

Mountains northwest of San Felipe, Chile

 

“How can you be sure she’ll come?” Bastian asked Leonid, who was sitting at a rough-hewn wooden table inside the main outpost building, cleaning the Kalashnikov rifle Bastian had provided.

Leonid cleared his throat. “Oh, she’ll come. She won’t let anything stop her. We have her daughter and her man.”

“But she doesn’t know that. Not for sure. Even the news bit we planted didn’t specify exactly who had been captured.”

Leonid looked down the rifle barrel with approval and set it down on the table. “She’ll read between the lines. There aren’t that many possibilities. I don’t think it’s likely that she’ll ignore it. There was a reason I wanted their capture to be broadcast far and wide.” He shook his head. “She’ll come for them. The only question is when.”

“At least we’ll have plenty of warning. Did your men deploy the motion detectors?”

“Of course. But it would be best to get the soldiers out of here and let my group handle this. We’re specialists, and I don’t need distractions.”

Taking his cue from the Russian, Colonel Campos finished placing a sheaf of documents in his satchel and turned to face them. “Gentlemen, now that my part in this is done, I’ll be on my way. I’ve already spoken with Franco. I need to get my troops back to the port and deal with the fallout from this little escapade. I hope it was worth it. Three men wounded – which, of course, can be swept under the rug with the right financial incentives – but still, difficult to explain away.”

“Thank you, Colonel. I’m sure the Verdugos will be very appreciative,” Bastian said.

“They’d better be. My neck’s out a lot farther than I’d bargained for.”

Rodrigo stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “I’m getting out of here, too. I’ve got no dog in this fight, and I’m thirsty. Colonel, could I trouble you for a lift?”

Campos appeared uncomfortable and looked to Bastian, who shrugged. Campos nodded. “Certainly. But I’m headed to Valparaíso.”

Rodrigo smiled grimly. “I have unfinished business with Franco, so that would be perfect. I’ll find somewhere to hole up and see him in the morning.”

Bastian cleared his throat. “Valparaíso has some intriguing nightspots that might be able to accommodate you. I’m sure the colonel is familiar with some of the more diverting and can point you in the right direction.” Bastian approached Rodrigo and shook his hand. “We’re all on the same team now. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

“Let’s hope so. The news of my father’s breakout was more than a little troubling.”

“Yes, and again, my condolences. Apparently there was little left of the helicopter after the crash. A sad day.”

Rodrigo shrugged. “He should have stayed in prison. But let’s not forget that Alejandro is still out there somewhere.”

Bastian sighed. “Antonio is attending to that personally. With your father out of the picture, the organization will be in disarray.”

“Yes, and many of my men are loyal only to me. Once the smoke clears, I’ll announce that I’ve negotiated a merger with your group, and everyone will be happy to see the long feud finally over. The combined entity will be much stronger than two battling families. It’s for the best.”

“A visionary realization,” Bastian agreed.

Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the Verdugo lieutenant much, and couldn’t decide whether he was subtly mocking him.

“Come, young man,” Campos said, checking his watch. “It will be a long drive over the mountains to Valparaíso.”

Rodrigo ignored the Russian – his dealings with Bastian were none of his concern. He was just glad to be rid of them all. All he could think of was his increased power now that he would run the organization, with his father and brother out of the way. A historical juncture, to be sure, and one deserving of being celebrated properly, starting with several tall whiskies, a taste of cocaine to compensate for the fatigue and a nubile young thing who could relieve the tension that had been accumulating all day as he’d been virtually trapped in the primitive outpost.

The collected Jeeps and personnel carriers roared to life and filed slowly down the dirt road to the highway, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. The wounded had been airlifted out earlier which, combined with a series of hard questions from Campos’s command office, had decided his withdrawal. His story – that he’d pursued a group of smugglers – was as flimsy as any, but as long as he stuck to it he was sure he’d be able to bluster through. Franco and he had discussed it that evening by phone, and the gangster had agreed to contribute generously to making the entire episode go away.

Bastian watched their taillights through the window and then returned his gaze to the Russian.

“You feel like your six men will be sufficient?” Bastian asked.

“More than sufficient. Just keep yours out of our way and we’ll be good,” Leonid warned.

“As you wish.” Bastian had ten gunmen at the outpost, so he wasn’t intimidated by Leonid. He wanted to get paid, and he wasn’t about to allow the man to eliminate the girl and then disappear, which was the primary reason for his show of force. He’d have been just as happy to have been rid of the camp, but Antonio’s instructions had been clear: keep his eye on the Russian, play along, but don’t let him out of sight.

More troubling was that so far Alejandro hadn’t surfaced. While Antonio had sounded confident, if not delighted, at the elder Soto’s untimely demise while making his ill-advised escape, Bastian wasn’t so sure. From all accounts Alejandro was almost as dangerous as his father – nothing like the vain show horse Rodrigo. And having an adversary like that unaccounted for was troubling, even if Antonio was convinced that he’d be eliminated within a matter of hours.

His men had returned that afternoon with the equipment the Russian had requested – weapons, motion detectors, grenades. Bastian had been impressed with the Russians’ demeanors, their quiet competence and the methodical way they’d gone about laying their trap. A part of him thought the ambush overkill, but all he had to do was consider the pile of dead men the girl had left for him to clean up at the hotel to rethink that position. If hardened men like the Russians thought the situation serious, he wouldn’t allow his prejudices to color his actions, and he’d warned his men to be on the alert.

Two of the Russians had been deployed to watch the road, accompanied by two of Bastian’s in an uneasy alliance, and the remaining three were outside waiting patiently for the assault Leonid was sure was coming. How one girl could think she’d overwhelm an army outpost was beyond Bastian’s ability to grasp, but it wasn’t his fight. He was there to ensure they got paid, nothing more; his job was to watch the watchers.

Bastian glanced at Leonid, who was now inspecting the night vision scope on the AK-47, and shook his head. Overkill, he thought again, but if it made the man happy, it was none of his concern. Antonio would charge him top dollar for the specialized equipment, no doubt tacking on an additional ten percent to the already large fee.

This all assumed that the Russian was correct and the girl was bent on committing suicide.

 

Chapter 35

Santiago, Chile

 

The doctor was a smallish man with sparse gray hair and thick glasses, his pot belly bulging under his surgical smock. Alejandro, Hector, and Jet entered the guesthouse, which turned out to contain a fully equipped surgical suite and recovery room complete with vital signs monitors, air purification system, anesthesia machine, autoclave for sterilization and a full array of surgical equipment that would have been the envy of most mid-sized hospitals.

“How is he?” Alejandro asked as he looked over at his father, who was lying with his eyes shut in a newish hospital bed.

“He’ll be fine. The damned bullet tore some of his intestines up when it fragmented, but I patched him up. In a week he’ll be good as new,” the doctor said, slipping off the smock and handing it to an assistant likewise garbed in scrubs.

“When will he be able to talk?”

“The anesthesia should wear off within another half hour. I’ll have him on morphine and antibiotics for the next couple of days, but beyond that, just no pole vaulting or wrestling till he’s healed.”

“Can we move him?” Hector asked.

“I’d rather you wait for at least twenty-four hours, so I can ensure there are no complications. I won’t take responsibility for him if he’s moved sooner.”

“Voids the warranty?” Alejandro said, smiling.

“Exactly. It’s all in the fine print, young man.”

Another physician’s assistant moved to Gaspar’s side and hooked up an IV. The doctor glanced back at him and gestured to the door as he felt in his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes. The irony of a doctor smoking wasn’t lost on Jet, but it seemed that, like the Argentines, most of the men here smoked, so she didn’t comment.

Outside he and Hector lit up. Alejandro waved away the offer of a smoke, and the doctor continued. “He was actually lucky. The slug glanced off a rib. If it had gone the other direction, his liver or, worse yet, his lung would have been involved.”

“That’s a positive, I suppose. But if he was really lucky, the shot would have missed entirely,” Hector observed.

The doctor offered a wan smile. “Still. He lost a fair amount of blood, but he’s stable now. I really think he’ll fully recover.”

BOOK: JET - Sanctuary
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