“How?” Ingram asked. “My kid has a quadcopter drone and the buzz from that thing drives me insane.”
Jameson gave him a knowing look. “They are remarkably quiet. They use…” He paused and opened the file again, “…raked wing tips, which reduce noise by as much as sixty percent. Something called a ‘motor glider’ on each of the electric motors that reduces the noise by another thirty percent.” He shuffled through the printouts again. “Ah, here we go. A nano-fiber noise dampening shroud that directs what little sound it does make upward and the blades are thirty percent longer, so they can spin slower. They make less noise and have the same amount of lift, while saving battery life.” He ran his finger along the printout. “Internals all have rubber dampening mounts and something called ‘air friction’ bearings so there’s no metal on metal for spinning or rotating parts.”
Ingram stared open mouthed. “Sounds like these things truly are assassins.” He sat down and sighed heavily. “As long as they’re on our side though…”
“Robert, you know that if our contractors can create something like this, that our enemies can as well, and now we’re handing over a prototype.” He sat back and rubbed at his temples. “And here I feared that our biggest threats would be a sniper or terrorist activity. One of these could fly into your house and shoot you in your sleep and nobody would be the wiser.”
Ingram blanched. “They’re loaded with C4. They could be flown into your car while you’re traveling down the freeway and…” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Gone. In an instant.”
“I have to stop doing this.” Jameson pushed the file away and squeezed his eyes shut. “Did you know that the Russians deployed a new satellite last month?” He opened his eyes and leveled his gaze on Ingram. “It can create what they are calling an ‘extremely focused laser’ capable of cutting a vehicle in half before it has to be recharged.”
“You’re kidding.”
Jameson shook his head. “They wouldn’t need a sniper. You could be sitting in your office and…” He stopped and held his hands up. “It truly amazes me how far technology can leap ahead in such narrow windows of time. It also amazes me how creative men are in trying to kill each other.”
Ingram chuckled. “Well, that kind of is our business.”
“No, Robert. Our business is espionage.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But I fear that the days of having assets in the streets of foreign nations have come to an end. No, now we rely almost entirely on microchips and sensors and cameras and…” He trailed off. “I am just an old dog playing a young dog’s game.”
Ingram studied him for a moment. “You’re not thinking of retiring?”
Jameson sighed as he came to his feet. “No, Robert. But I think it’s time that this old dog learns some new tricks.”
Near Chapala, Mexico
“It has been confirmed, señor” The federale major stood at attention as he spoke. “I have contacts in other commands. The Sinaloa cartel has bought and paid for them.” He sighed and lowered his voice, “They are preparing for war.”
Raul shuddered and glanced back at the villa. “I must speak to el jefe. He will know how to handle this.”
“You should inform him that they are preparing now. It could be any day. He should seriously consider moving to another location.”
Raul stiffened and clenched his jaw. “I have tried, Major. Since you first brought us news of this, I have begged him.” He shook his head. “He is insistent.”
“Because of the gringos?”
“Si. He is determined to face them.” Raul turned and paced slowly. “I tell him, let the federales face them. Let the militias face them. Let our own people…” He sighed and pinched at the bridge of his nose. “He refuses to leave.”
The major glanced toward the hacienda then turned back to Raul. “Perhaps you should…motivate him?”
“You think I have not tried?”
The major stiffened. “Perhaps you should consider saving him from himself.” He lowered his voice and practically whispered, “A dead general cannot lead his men. There is no shame in strategic retreat when facing obviously superior forces.”
Raul scoffed. “If only it were that simple.” He glanced up at the office window then turned his back to it again. “Will you receive any notice before the attack?”
The major shook his head. “The federales are splintered. Those who are bought must remain loyal to their employer.” He swallowed hard. “Just as we would not alert them to his leaving, they will not alert us to their attack.”
“But you are certain of their weaponry?”
The major shrugged. “They have much at their disposal. Heavy equipment is harder to move over distance. The larger weapons aren’t precise. The men…you would have to transport.” He sighed as he nodded. “If it were me, I would use a UAV. They can rearm it once it returns and claim that it never left. Only a handful of the men would need to be involved, so, fewer people to pay off for their silence.”
Raul groaned as his stomach fell. “I will try again, but I fear this will be a waste of time.”
24
Near Chapala, Mexico
“Oh shit,” Diego grumbled as the truck began to slow. He pressed a hand to his ear and his face twisted. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Bridger growled.
“Federales.” He glanced through a gap in the canvas cover of the bed and keyed his coms. “Tell them we are transporting electronics and specialist contractors for Capitain de la Cruz.”
“The fuck is going on, Diego?” Bridger began to stand, leveling his weapon. “If you’re trying to flip on us, you’ll be the first casualty.”
“Sh-sh-sh!” Diego held a finger up and listened. “We have a fifty-fifty chance here, so be quiet.”
Bridger narrowed his gaze at the man. “How so?”
Diego groaned quietly then turned to him. “Captain de la Cruz is the local
