Forced to Kill

“For what?” Harv asked.

They listened while she laid out her plan.

“I think it’s brilliant,” Harv said. “Nate?”

“Let’s do it.”

Chapter 26

Nathan checked his side mirror again, making sure Grangeland stayed with them. The surveillance detection route detoured them through the grid-like maze of bland, dimly lit industrial streets. This area surrounding the port of Los Angeles had countless rows of tilt-up warehouses with rail spurs serving rear yards. A perfect place for Montez’s men to blend in and be invisible among the many Latinos who lived and worked here.

If they were being tailed, it wasn’t from the ground.

Just to be sure, he keyed the radio. “Grangeland, I’m going to pull over and check for a helicopter. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Copy.”

He pulled to the curb, climbed out, and scanned the sky. Nothing. He cupped his ears and listened. Again nothing. He supposed there could be a blacked-out helicopter way up there, but gave it long odds. Better to be certain.

“I’m a little uneasy about tonight’s op,” Harv said.

“I am too, but if we don’t get Montez, neither of us will ever sleep well again. We have to think about your family. And the Daltons.”

“I also don’t like the lack of intelligence. We have no idea what’s in that warehouse, or if it’s even the right place. We also don’t know its floor plan. There could be booby traps. It might be empty or full of armed mercenaries. When we went after Leonard Bridgestone, we had satellite images and live intelligence.”

“We’ll fall back on our training.”

“Nate, we’ve already made some big mistakes. Not to mention you’re seriously lacking adequate sleep and recovering from a nasty concussion.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes.

“Look, Nate, I‘m not trying to put a dark cloud over this, but I have to wonder if we’d be taking this kind of risk if we weren’t pursuing Montez.”

“Nichole Dalton and her girls could be in the warehouse. Montez could be torturing them right now.”

“You already said that, and I get it. But we can’t help them if we get ourselves killed.”

Again, Nathan said nothing. Didn’t need to. His friend was doing his job, being the voice of reason and good sense.

Harv turned left onto a street lined with smaller warehouses. Streetlights at every intersection threw lifeless, orange light onto oil stained asphalt. Up ahead, a semi pulled onto the street and headed toward them. Dual columns of smoke belched from its pipes. Nathan lowered his ball cap as it passed by.

“If it comes to it,” Harv asked, “will she hesitate at the moment of truth?”

“No way, not Grangeland.”

“I concur. If this goes to hell tonight, how do we protect her?”

“As far as I’m concerned, she was never here. She can beat feet outta here with no one the wiser. It’s one of the reasons to have a second vehicle. If she fires her weapon, let’s make sure we pick up her brass.”

Harv glanced at him. “You know Grangeland. She won’t like bugging out and probably won’t do it.”

“This isn’t a suicide mission. We’ll do the same thing if it gets too heavy. There’s no shame in fleeing an overwhelming enemy. We had the same policy as an echo team.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that.”

Nathan answered his friend’s unspoken question. “She’s an FBI special agent. We can’t let our personal feelings get in the way.”

“I guess I’m being overprotective. I hate the idea of her being killed, or worse. The thought of her being in Montez’s possession turns my stomach.”

“We’ll never let that happen. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Are we talking about what I think we’re talking about?” Harv asked.

“Yes.”

“The same goes for us?”

“Especially for us.”

Harv pulled to the curb and killed the engine. Behind them, Grangeland parked and joined them in the rear seat.

They all donned ballistic vests and pulled on black sweatshirts over them. Nathan and Harv secured thermal imagers, night vision monoculars, and suppressed Sig Sauer pistols in their belly packs. Predator knives were strapped in sheaths just above their ankles. Before climbing out, they ran the wiring for earpieces and lapel mikes under their vests. Next, they powered the radios and clipped them into place. Nathan checked his belly pack. Zipped tight. He applied black skin paint to his face. Harv did the same. For what they had planned, though, face paint wouldn’t work for Grangeland.

Nathan looked at his watch: 2247 hours.

They grabbed dark ball caps and started down the sidewalk.

On both sides of the street, cargo containers, flatbed trucks, and stacks of pallets occupied fenced storage yards. A few boats on blocks were scattered among them, most not looking seaworthy. Along the western fence lines, windblown trash had built up like snowdrifts. Graffiti glared everywhere.

Nathan whispered, “Harv, radio check.”

“Good.”

“Grangeland?”

“Good.”

“Okay, we’ll make a pass on the opposite sidewalk and look for cameras.”

He studied the building as they rounded the corner. Constructed of concrete block with small slotted windows near the roofline, the building looked to be approximately one hundred feet square and twenty feet high. Basically a giant box. It probably had a second-level loft or office above the bathrooms. Most small warehouses had floor plans like that. He wouldn’t know until they gained entry. As Harv predicted, the rear wall of the warehouse employed two roll-up doors serving a loading dock. A camera mounted on the roof’s parapet was aimed at the loading dock. They kept going down the sidewalk.

The front of the building employed a single metal door with a wall-mounted security camera pointing down at a 45-degree angle. A spotlight illuminated the entire area. The place served its purpose-a virtual fortress.

“Harv, I’m going to pretend to light a cigarette. Stay behind me and take a look at the camera.”

Harv pulled a compact pair of field glasses from his front pocket and focused on the door.

Nathan lit a match and brought it up to his face.

Harv relayed what he saw. “The camera’s cable goes straight up the wall and disappears over the parapet. Looks like standard coaxial. There’s also some sort of doorbell button with an intercom speaker below it.”

“Do you see a security peephole?”

“No.”

“Let’s position you right there, at the southwest corner of the warehouse while I rig the video bypass. At a full sprint, you’re only five to six seconds from the front door. You can duck behind those recycle containers if you see anyone. Okay, let’s circle around to the opposite side of the warehouse and take a look.” They turned right at a narrow alley lined by bigger warehouses. “I don’t like the look of this alley. It’s too narrow. Ten yard separation.” Nathan continued while Harv and Grangeland stayed put.

“I’m on your six with Grangeland. I’ll wait between these white delivery vans before moving out.”

“Copy,” Nathan said. He smelled the air and didn’t detect any cigarette smoke, but on his left, there were