The man on the other end was silent for a moment then seemed to find his voice. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises though.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “Who’s the target?”
“The Murillo Cartel. The compound is between Chapala and Ajijic, Mexico. Overlooking the water.”
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can conjure up.”
“You do that,” Jameson quipped before he hung up the phone. He leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. “And that is how you start a drug war.”
Near Chapala Mexico
El Fantasma walked slowly across the covered porch, his eyes scanning the thick vegetation that clung to the hillsides. He knew that deep in the shadows, the best shooters that the militias had to offer were lurking there. Waiting. Praying for the chance to spill Bravo Team’s blood.
“Jefe?” Raul’s voice was nearly a whisper as he approached. “Should you be out here in the open?”
He turned slowly and gave the smaller man a quaint smile. “There are three armies out there lying in wait. I think I’m safe here.”
“I just got word from Miguel. They had to find a different plane to return. The Gulf that Luis took was damaged beyond flying.” He felt his voice crack as he spoke and his face flushed. “He reports that—”
“I already know what he said, Raul,” he interrupted. “The gringos escaped. Our men are dead or missing. He has no idea where Bridger and his team are.”
Raul felt his mouth fall open and he blinked rapidly. “He already spoke with you?”
El Fantasma shook his head. “No Raul, but I know our enemy.” He sighed as he leaned against the railing and pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket to pat at his brow.
“Are you not well, Jefe? Should I—”
“I am fine, Raul.” He tucked the handkerchief back into his coat pocket and turned to stare at the sun setting behind the hills. “I just…fear that we have not prepared for what is about to come.”
“Señor, they are but a handful of people. You have the militias and our own army lying in wait. Surely you cannot believe that they have a chance?”
El Fantasma chuckled as he pushed away from the railing. “You do not know the kind of trouble these people will bring. You were not here when they went on their rampage, destroying croplands and villages, blowing up runways and shooting down our transport planes.” He sighed as he turned back to the setting sun. “These are dangerous people.”
“As are we.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “We are many and we know that they are coming.” He took a deep breath then stepped in front of his boss, meeting his gaze. “If you are this worried about the gringos, perhaps you should leave? Silently, in the night. You could go to one of our other villas. Do not let anybody know where you go so that they cannot tell them—”
“No.” He smiled at the smaller man. “Even if it means my death, I will look into their eyes as they beg me for mercy.” He scoffed as he inhaled deeply of the cooling night air. “I will have them watch as I cut the hearts from their compadres. They will know the pain I have felt these many years and they will pray to their gods for a quick death.”
“But señor, if you truly feel that they are that much of a threat, you owe it to everyone to stay alive.” Raul shrugged. “Let them think that you are still here and once they have been captured, you can safely return and have your revenge.”
El Fantasma shook his head slowly and took Raul by the shoulders. “You do not understand, amigo. I must face them.” He tapped at his chest. “I must remain here.” He waved his hand out over the lands. “The people who come here to fight, they need to see me. They need to know that I stood with them in this. Otherwise, they will lose faith in me.”
Raul nodded knowingly. “You cannot afford to appear weak.” He turned and stared out at the lush canopy of trees climbing the surrounding hills. “You must maintain control…or somebody with ambition might try to take that which is yours.”
“Among other reasons, si.” He reached for the snifter of brandy on the railing and cradled it. “I have to be where our people can see me. I have to be ‘available’ to them.” He craned his neck and slowly smiled as a Mercedes G Wagon made its way up the winding roads towards the villa. “Miguel has arrived. Prepare for him rooms and have food brought in. They will be tired and hungry.”
“As you wish, Jefe.”
He watched Raul leave then made his way to the wide steps leading up to the porch. He watched as Miguel climbed out of the Mercedes and began making his way towards the house.
“We have failed you.” Miguel’s face was stern.
He smiled to his assassin and waved him onward. “No, you did not. It went as I suspected it might.” He opened his arms to welcome the men home. “I had hoped that our prey had grown soft and fat over the years. I was wrong.”
Miguel paused just short of the porch and sighed. “It does not forgive their escape.”
El Fantasma smiled and motioned them into the house. “Do not worry, amigo. They will be coming to us.”
Miguel stepped onto the wide porch and narrowed his gaze. “How can you know this?”
His face grew somber as he turned for the house. “I know the men we hunt all too well.”
18
MacDill AFB, Florida
Major Blake gave Bridger a knowing look. “There may be something…” he trailed off, his mind considering the ramifications as he glanced toward the empty doorway.
Bobby slowly came to his feet, his gaze narrowing. “Talk to me.”
“You have an IT guy, yeah? A computer whiz to do
