Defiance: A House Divided (The Defending Home Series Book 2) Page 15

  The place had been under observation for two days when Zach had given the green light. From the intelligence they had managed to gather, anywhere from three to seven cartel members were stationed here at any one time. It seemed their main purpose was to patrol the neighborhoods, collecting taxes in the form of supplies, but mostly they were here to remind the locals who was in charge.

  Zach glanced back at Travis on his left, Colton standing next to him. Eight other rangers were with them. Apart from .223 caliber assault rifles, each man carried a pistol and a tactical vest with plenty of extra ammo. Unlike the others, Colton carried a shotgun loaded with slugs designed to breach the front door if necessary.

  The purpose of the operation was to bust in and send the cartel a very clear message.

  “Everyone ready?” Zach asked, making a visual inspection of the men around him. Many of them gave the thumbs up. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  The strike team moved toward the safehouse’s front door, Zach in the lead. The last man stayed by the window to give one final look before they charged across the street and attacked the target.

  “Go,” came the okay from the window.

  Zach pushed open the front door, ten men in full close-quarters battle gear behind him. This was the most vulnerable part of the operation. The adrenaline was pumping through Zach’s veins as they reached the parched front lawn of the bungalow, and then the main entrance. He tried the handle and found it locked.

  “Breacher,” Zach called out to Colton, who ran up and fired the shotgun slug between the handle and the doorframe. Zach then took a step back and kicked it in, shouting as he entered the house. The place was littered with empty chip bags and beer cans. One cartel member sprang from the couch, reaching for the rifle at his feet. Zach and the two men covering him opened fire at once, riddling the man’s body. He was dead before they stopped shooting. They then swept the rest of the house, one team moving left through the living room and another heading right down a hallway past the kitchen.

  In the distance, Zach listened as they called, “Clear!” as each room was checked. He kicked open a bedroom door at the end of the hallway. A stained king-sized mattress lay on the floor, surrounded by more trash. They moved in. Colton, who was on Zach’s right, covered his angle and shouted in alarm. A cartel member was halfway out the window. Colton opened fire with his shotgun, hitting the man under the armpit, opening up his chest. The thug collapsed, dead.

  “Clear,” a ranger called on Zach’s left.

  Seconds later, the team led by Travis found them and announced the rest of the house was clean.

  “Find anything useful?” Zach asked.

  “A few weapons and boxes of ammo. Also a bunch of handwritten orders. Seems half the time the cartel doesn’t bother with shortwaves or walkie-talkies.”

  Perhaps they were worried about being monitored or having their messages recorded.

  “Pack all that stuff up and begin setting the charges.” Zach turned to his son, who looked pale. “This can’t be your first blood?” he asked, puzzled by his son’s reaction.

  Colton shook his head. “No.”

  “Don’t worry. It keeps getting easier. Believe me.”

  •••

  They planted the charges in three rooms, connecting them to one another by wires. A piece of fishing line led from the front door handle to the detonator switch. As soon as the next cartel member pushed their way inside, the place would go sky high. Travis had originally advised using a single charge, but Zach’s philosophy of ‘go big or go home’ had won out.

  With that done, the strike team moved the bodies into the basement and retreated back to the house across the street. Zach felt it was important to know precisely how many cartel members the blast would eliminate. If they were lucky, an entire quick reaction force would show up to join the party. Once the blast rocked the house, Zach’s team would finish off any remaining survivors before heading back to base.

  The seconds and minutes ticked by at a glacial pace and Zach was beginning to wonder whether anyone would ever show up. Then a signal came from the lookout that a pair of dark SUVs were approaching. As they drew closer, Zach’s heart began to gallop in his chest. After what they’d done to his biker crew, killing two cartel members felt good—killing another five or six, well, there were just no words.

  The SUVs pulled into the driveway. One cartel henchmen exited the lead vehicle and headed for the house.

  “Wait for everyone else,” Zach shouted as the first guy reached the front door and stopped, his hand resting on the smooth wooden surface. He was calling back to the others, telling them to come. “That’s right, the more the merrier. Why not have a party?”

  Two more cartel members emerged and they opened the back doors. Maybe they were transporting VIPs. Zach could see this was going to be a bigger victory than he expected.

  “Wait a sec,” Travis said. “Who is that with them?”

  The two cartel men opened the hatches on both SUVs and pulled out more people. Altogether they had ten women, their hands zip-tied and lashed together two by two. These weren’t cartel women, they were Americans, townspeople from Encendido, probably picked up in some sort of raid. The lead guy was waving them all forward. He hadn’t seen the hole in the door. Didn’t realize yet that anything was amiss.

  “We gotta stop them,” Zach shouted, jumping to his feet and charging for the front door, the barrel of his rifle already on target. The two cartel men in the back turned and leveled their own weapons right as the house exploded, engulfing those standing nearby in a ball of deadly fire and flying debris.

  The shockwave struck Zach in the chest, throwing him back into the front hallway of the house. Hands grabbed at him, lifted him up. It was Colton, petrified that his father had been killed.

  The house across the street was engulfed in flames. On the front lawn were the remains of what had once been human beings.

  Travis tried to call the operation a success, but Zach knew otherwise. They’d killed five cartel members and ten innocent women. Casualties of war, Zach kept telling himself over and over.

  “Dad,” Colton said, himself shocked at the sight, “are you okay?”

  Zach stayed quiet. At the moment, he didn’t have it in him to lie.

  Chapter 36

  Dale

  Dale got to within a hundred yards of the old Baptist church before a handful of Zach’s men intercepted him, peppering him with the usual questions before they let him through. Zach wasn’t expecting him, but after hearing news of what had happened, Dale had rushed over as quickly as he could. Even pulling into the parking lot, he noticed a loose perimeter of snipers and riflemen, keeping watch. Dale parked the truck and headed for the entrance, where he was disarmed and asked the same batch of questions he’d answered moments before. Blood boiling, Dale couldn’t help feeling as though he were on a 1-800 helpline.

  To speak with Zach, please press one.

  One.

  You now have seven options.

  Darn it.

  “Let him through,” Zach’s voice said from the shadowed interior.

  Dale entered, his eyes struggling to adjust to the dramatic change in lighting.

  “You can never be too safe,” Zach said, handing Dale back his pistol.

  Dale looked around at the figures moving back and forth around them. “Can we speak somewhere private?”

  “Follow me.”

  They entered what looked like an office. It had a wooden desk, papers and maps strewn across it, behind that a banker’s lamp on a side table.

  “Does it work?” Dale asked, pointing to the lamp.

  Zach shook his head. “I’m looking at trying to get some juice hooked up. Realistically, though, it’s looking more like I’ll need to move the entire operation. Find a vacant farmhouse with some fertile land and maybe even a well. Of course it’ll need to be fortified and powered by wind and solar.”

  Dale looked sympathetic. “I have some experience in that area if
you need any help.”

  “I may just take you up on that.” An awkward silence descended over the tiny room. Zach went and sat behind the desk. Dale took a seat opposite him. “If you came here to gloat, or if you came to say you told me so, I’m not interested.”

  “I came for neither,” Dale told him honestly. “First off, let me say I’m sorry about what happened. I know your goal is to rid Encendido of the cartel and I respect that.”

  “Not just the cartel,” Zach shot back. “Have you forgotten the many times Randy tried to have you killed? That he poisoned your brother against you and would love nothing more than to see you and everyone you love rotting in a shallow grave?”

  “How can anyone forget that?”

  Zach leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk. “Guess I got confused, ’cause I didn’t hear you mention the need to have Sheriff Gaines removed or tried for what he’s done.”

  “Gaines will get what’s coming to him in due time, Zach. Right now we’re facing bigger problems, wouldn’t you agree? La Brigada could show up at any time.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

  “Then you know you can’t do this on your own,” Dale said. “You need allies and everything that entails.”

  “You know, we were averaging ten new recruits every day,” Zach countered.

  “And after killing those ten women?”

  The muscles in Zach’s jaw clenched. “Fewer, but it’ll pick up again, mark my words.”

  “That’s not what I’m hearing.”

  “Enlighten me,” Zach said, the doubt seeping out of every pore.

  “First your organization blew up much-needed water trucks. Then, when you took the fight to the enemy for real, it resulted in the deaths of innocent townspeople. Sure, some cartel died, but even you can agree that driving our friends into the arms of our enemy is counterproductive.”

  “We’ve got other attacks in the works,” Zach said defiantly.

  “I may be the last person you’re willing to listen to,” Dale continued. “But I respectfully ask that you cease and desist. As we speak, we’re in the middle of two major operations. One of them would effectively cut Ortega’s fighting force in half.” It was the tentative truce Dale had secured with Randy. But based on Zach’s earlier reaction, there was no way he was going to fill him in on that. “The other involves an attempt on Edwardo’s life.”

  Zach sat up straight. “How do you plan on getting that close? You’re not that good of a shot.”

  “Not me,” Dale said. “Someone else has the job.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Zach laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling as he rocked in contemplation. Suddenly the chair became still. “Don’t tell me you got Shane to do it.”

  “I can’t talk about details,” Dale told him.

  Zach burst out laughing. “For your sake I hope you didn’t. That sap couldn’t hit a fish in a barrel.”

  The steady rhythm of Dale’s heart kicked up a notch. Zach wasn’t calling Shane a bad shot. Shane’s work at the range proved otherwise, but Zach was saying Dale’s brother was a natural-born loser—words Dale had thought about often, even if it hurt to hear those words coming out of someone else’s mouth.

  “Now’s the time we come together,” Dale said, cutting through Zach’s pessimism. Seemed Dale’s real challenge was how to convince a guy like Zach not to shoot himself in the foot. It was a difficult proposition and Dale could feel the chance for reconciliation being swept away in a violent sandstorm.

  “Word around here,” Zach said, twirling his thumbs, “is that Vickie’s sitting on a cache of weapons. Most of my guys brought what they had. We got a few nice weapons systems, but most of it’s fairly old. Modern, reliable firepower, that’s where the cartel’s really got us beat.”

  Dale saw exactly where his brother-in-law was headed. “Will a few weapons help to bridge the gap, Zach? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Can’t hurt.”

  A knock came at the door.

  “Come in,” Zach said, still leaning back.

  Travis entered. “We’ve just received word that Edwardo Ortega’s been killed in an assassination.”

  Both men grew rigid, then looked at one another.

  “Any word on the assassin yet?” Dale asked, tension forcing the fingers of his right hand into a fist.

  “He was killed at the scene, apparently,” Travis said, coolly. “Was he one of yours?”

  Dale nodded and tried to say yes, but no words came out.

  Chapter 37

  Zach

  After news of Ortega’s death, Zach was quick to usher Dale out of his headquarters. Now that the cartel’s leader had fallen, he realized this was the time to act. A strong enough assault by the EPM would surely send what was left of the cartel fleeing back across the border in disarray. Dale could play the diplomat and 007 all he liked, but what really mattered was hot lead cutting through cartel bodies.

  Zach found Travis and two of his sublieutenants standing over a table in the operations area. A handmade drawing of the town showed the two major bases used by the cartel—the Teletech plant and Mayor Reid’s mansion.

  “We should assault the sheriff’s office as well,” Travis said, about to circle it.

  “Not yet,” Zach countered. “Sheriff Gaines and his deputies will be dealt with once we cut out the biggest cancer. Do we have enough men to strike both the plant and the mansion at once?”

  “We’ve got a total of eighteen rangers,” Travis told him. “But deploying them all means only a handful of support personnel will remain to defend the church.”

  Zach could feel his fingers itch the way they did whenever he hit the craps tables in Vegas. “We’ll commit them in equal number against both objectives. And arm whoever’s staying behind to keep watch while we’re gone.”

  What they lacked in sophisticated weaponry, they made up for in transportation. Zach had already decided the Brinks truck would lead the assault on the mansion, the spot they expected the largest concentration of Ortega’s men. Added to that were an assortment of SUVs and pickup trucks they kept concealed around the neighborhood, all part of creating the illusion that the church was empty.

  It took another hour to finish gathering the vehicles and prepping the weapons and ammo. There wasn’t much in the way of body armor, which meant the assault would need to be lightning fast in order to prevent a prolonged battle. Zach was hopeful that by splitting his forces into two nine-man teams and striking both targets at once, he could deliver a knockout blow. Faced with such a dramatic reversal, he was confident Randy, the king of self-preservation, would see the writing on the wall and stand down.

  Those ten women at the safehouse will not have died in vain. It was a mantra Zach kept repeating as the time for departure drew nearer.

  •••

  Dale

  Dale and Sandy were meeting with Nobel at her headquarters. There was more activity than usual. The place seemed to be on high alert.

  “I know you must have mixed feelings,” Nobel said reassuringly. “But your brother’s death will not be in vain.”

  “The whole thing still doesn’t feel real,” he told them.

  Sandy rubbed his back. “The two of you had issues, but what family doesn’t? All he wanted was for you to be proud of him.”

  Dale was proud of his brother. Although the deep pain from his treachery was still there, he also knew that Shane’s commitment to make amends had counted for something.

  “How did your meeting with Zach go?”

  Shaking his head, Dale said, “Not as well as I’d hoped. Doesn’t look like he’s going to budge.”

  “Even after that botched operation?” Sandy asked, incredulous.

  “I don’t think he saw it that way,” Dale replied. “They took out a few cartel members and sent them a clear message. Anyone else who got hurt was purely collateral damage. But our meeting ended when news came through that Ort
ega had been killed.”

  “News has been spreading all over town,” Sandy said. “Is there a chance the cartel could simply pack up and leave town?”

  “There might have been,” Nobel said. “But not anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Dale asked.

  “Not long after Ortega’s assassination, our forward observers reported seeing a long line of cartel vehicles entering Encendido from the south. We believe Edwardo’s father, the drug lord Fernando Ortega, was at the spearhead of La Brigada de Los Asesinos.”

  Sandy’s hand covered her mouth.

  “What does that mean for our chances of forcing them out of town?” Dale asked.

  “It means we’ll need every man and woman we can get,” Nobel told him, a somber look on her face. “If we remain splintered, they’ll likely destroy us piecemeal. That was why your mission to win over Zach was so vital.”

  “He mentioned the cache of weapons you’re sitting on. Said he’d be open to some form of cooperation if you shared what you had.”

  Nobel shook her head. “The legend of my weapons cache has grown in the telling many times over. I do have long guns and pistols, but I’m usually credited with being able to outfit a battalion and that is simply not true.”

  Dale looked disappointed. “I’m afraid that was our only bargaining chip.”

  One of Nobel’s lieutenants came and whispered in her ear. The change on her face was immediate and worrisome.

  “More bad news?” Dale asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes. I just received a report that Zach is on the offensive.”

  The blood drained from Dale’s face. “Does that yahoo know the cartel’s been reinforced, maybe even with La Brigada?”

  “Impossible to say,” Nobel replied. “An attack against those odds will be suicide.”

  “Then maybe we need to move in ourselves,” Dale shot back.

  “It’ll be chaos,” she said. “None of our forces will be coordinated. They’re just as likely to start firing on one another as they are the enemy.”