He pulled a cigar from his humidor and lit it, his eyes never leaving the thick mustachioed man speaking animatedly at the bottom of his steps. Raul nodded vigorously then turned and nearly sprinted up the stairs. The man in the green uniform turned his back to the hacienda and stood at parade rest.
“Señor?” Raul stood in the doorway, a worried look painted across his features.
El jefe gave him a curious look. “Tell me, Raul. Why would the military come to my villa?”
Raul swallowed hard. “There are rumors, señor. Bad ones.”
El jefe smiled. “Aren’t they all,” he muttered. “What does he say?”
“There are people…different groups, they are trying to urge the military to act against you, señor.”
El Fantasma raised a brow as he puffed the cigar. “You don’t say.” He sat carefully behind his desk and peered through the blue gray plumes. “And who might these people be?”
Raul’s face fell. “He couldn’t say. No names were mentioned.” He stepped closer and pleaded, “But this is beginning to get out of hand, Jefe. You should leave before…” he trailed off.
He smiled gently and shook his head. “No, Raul. I need to be here. When Bravo comes and—”
“Jefe!” Raul interrupted. “They can bring you their remains, or, if you insist, they can capture them and bring them to you for torture. You can still have your revenge on them, but not if you are dead.”
El Fantasma stood slowly and placed a reassuring hand on Raul’s shoulder. “We have the tunnels still, eh? If things begin to go wrong, we shall make our escape and collapse the tunnels behind us.” He gave him a broader smile. “Let them bring the military. Most are on our payroll. They will not go against us.”
Raul groaned. “Jefe, they talk of using drones.” He pleaded with his eyes. “Have you seen the devastation that comes with them?”
“I have, Raul.” He patted the man’s cheek. “Tell the colonel that we appreciate the warning, but we have things under control here.”
Raul shook his head. “Please, Jefe. At least have him bring a platoon. They can seal off the roads that—”
“Fine!” His face hardened and he squared his shoulders. “I fear that my respect for the gringos has planted an unrealistic fear into your heart, Raul.” He turned and peered through the blinds again. “Have the colonel assign the men on our payroll to the roads. Every road in or out.” He turned and gave Raul a sardonic smile. “Every mountain crossing, goat path, game trail…everything that leads to us, he should assign his men.” He crossed his arms and stared at the smaller man. “Does this ease your mind, mi hermano?”
Raul swallowed hard and nodded. “Si, señor. It does.”
“Very well then.” He turned back to his desk and sat. “But keep them at arm’s length. I want at least a five kilometer buffer between them and the militia. We can’t have our own forces shooting at each other, can we?”
“No, señor. That is a wise move.”
“Go then. Relay my orders.” He sat back in his chair and watched as Raul hurriedly left the office. He spun the chair slowly and peered across the shallow valley to the lush hillsides across from them. “Call in all of your markers if you dare. But, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into, Mr. Bridger.”
19
MacDill AFB, Florida
Gregg Soares stared at the specs of the swarm drones and couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “I know this sounds like I’m pulling your leg, but I actually dreamt up an idea like this years back when civilian drones first became a thing.” He looked up at Mauk and his face fell. “Then I saw some movie where they actually had this same idea and I refused to play second fiddle to some hack Hollywood screen writer’s fantasy.”
Mauk crossed his thick arms over his chest and scoffed. “Let me guess, they stole your idea, Napster?”
Gregg groaned and sat back in his chair. “Don’t even.” He leaned forward again and tapped the specs into his computer. “Actually, no. My idea was to load the tiny fuselage with high explosives and use them as a sort of…flying mine field.” He tapped in the last of the specs and hit ENTER. “The movie kind of played off the same idea but they used HE to launch a projectile into somebody’s head. Like a barrel-less gun. But with wings.” He grinned again. “Either way, same result. Dead bad guy.”
“Or dead good guy,” Lisa added as she stared at the specs. “You sure you can control these things?” She narrowed her gaze at him. “I am NOT going out because of your lack of programming skills.”
Gregg gave her a hurt look. “Seriously? You think I’m that inept?” He clutched at his chest. “You wound me. Truly.”
“Straighten up,” Bridger barked. “Can you do it, Slip?”
Gregg nodded slightly. “Easy peasy. Especially if we get the IFF from your new bestie. If Blake comes through with the transponders for us, then it’s as simple as sicking these little fuckers after random heat signatures that don’t have the IFF.”
Lisa groaned. “So I’m putting my life on the line over a small piece of military hardware. Great.”
“Not JUST some small piece of military hardware,” Gregg added. “But an untested small piece of military hardware that was built by a civilian contractor with no skin in the game.”
Mauk smiled as he added insult to injury. “And also, the civilian contractor that was the lowest bidder on that particular order.”
Lisa groaned animatedly. “You’re not making this easier.”
“If it was easy, anybody could do it,” Bridger grunted. He stared at Slippy. “How soon would it take you to hack this shit?” He glanced at Mauk, then Lisa. “Blake says he can’t ‘give’ it to us. We have to steal it.”
Slippy shrugged. “So. Wouldn’t be the first time we took
