“It had better be or I’m breaking out the weedeater and going to town.”
2
Southeastern Oklahoma
Bridger sat on the ottoman holding a steaming cup of coffee as Mauk hung his ghillie suit on the wall. “I’ve got a camp set up higher in the hills.” He shot the duo a knowing look. “Just in case.”
“This is pretty basic shit,” Slippy muttered as he sipped the bitter coffee. “I’m thinking a campground would be a notch higher on the luxury scale.”
Mauk sat down next to the fire and, for the first time, Bridger noted how tired he looked. “When was the last time you slept?”
Mauk shrugged. “Three…four days ago?” He sipped the coffee then looked up. “What day is it?”
“Tuesday,” Slippy stated.
Mauk gave him a confused stare. “What month?”
Bridger stood and set the ceramic cup on the wood stove. “Get some sleep. You can fill us in after you’ve had some rest.”
Mauk leaned away from him and brushed his arm off. “No, I gotta tell you what’s been happening.” He stood and began to slowly pace the small cabin, his coffee threatening to slosh out as he did. “I got a call from Lisa Vasquez…you remember her?”
Bridger nodded and Slippy smiled. “Tall drink of water, that one.”
“What did she say?” Bobby asked.
Mauk shook his head slowly, trying to recall the details. “She said that Wollychop was killed in a car accident.” He looked up and shook his head. “Couldn’t have been.”
“Explain.”
Mauk inhaled deeply and continued pacing. “He took some job at a federal lockup. He was driving to work and was involved in a single car accident. Except it wasn’t an accident. Somebody pushed him into a ravine and his Jeep rolled. Somehow his body was pinned between the ground and the roll bar.”
Bridger glanced to Slippy and gave him a knowing look. “It could have been an accident. Verify it.”
Slippy pulled his laptop and turned it on. “I’ll pull the accident reports, the police reports, the insurance…” He turned and gave Bridger a hateful glare. “I mean, I would if I could get a Wi-Fi signal.”
Bridger tossed him his flip phone. “Piggyback off that.”
Slippy opened his mouth to argue but Bridger nodded to Mauk. “What else did Lisa say?”
Mauk tossed back the rest of his coffee and poured another cup. “She said that she was still in shock after hearing about Rob. Then somebody shot up her house.”
“Was she hurt?”
Mauk shook his head. “No, but she had family in there and they were pretty shaken up. It took her a while to get them relocated.”
Bridger gave him a shocked look. “I never thought of Lisa as the marrying type.”
Mauk snorted. “I was surprised too; then she informed me that it was her sister’s family, in for the holidays.” He stretched his neck and grimaced. “She said it felt like a gangland style attempt.”
“Like, street gangs?” Bridger nodded to Slippy, who still looked pissed.
Mauk sat down heavily and wiped a calloused hand over his face. “Yeah, except not…it was that style, but she caught a glimpse of the shooters. These weren’t your typical gangbangers.”
Bridger set his coffee down and snapped his fingers in front of Mauk’s face. “Concentrate buddy. I need details.”
Mauk shook his head. “She didn’t give details, but she’s been working with the Houston PD for long enough that if it had been gang related, she’d know.” He stood again and paced slowly. “The worst part was that they left some kind of cryptic message.”
Bridger gave him a confused stare. “Don’t leave me hanging, bro.”
“She said that they spray painted something on the car.” He swallowed hard and sat back down. “Fantasma.”
Southern Texas, near Houston
Lisa Vasquez pulled the baseball cap lower on her head and peered through the dark aviator sunglasses as she stepped away from the cheap motel room. She tucked the newspaper under her arm and strode purposefully across the second floor walkway toward the parking lot. She paused at the top of the stairs and stared at the old Crown Victoria parked near the office. Her eyes studied every inch of the old police car then without turning her head, she scanned the other cars in the parking lot. The Mercedes S560 stood out like a sore thumb.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she slowly backed away from the stairs. She rounded the corner and made her way toward the rear of the building. She heard the car doors slamming as she broke into a hard run and bolted for the rear stairs.
She planted her hands on the rail and swung her legs up and over, landing deftly behind the building. She spun and twisted the knob of the nearest room while ramming her shoulder into the edge of the door. It easily gave way and Lisa rolled into the room, her hand bringing up the Sig Sauer pistol in a silent, sweeping motion.
She thrust her leg out and pushed the door shut, thankful that the room was empty. She knew that if they paused long enough to actually look, the broken door would stand out and give away her position immediately.
She crept to the dirty window and used the barrel to pull the curtain back slightly. She watched as two men in tan overcoats rounded the corner and stared down the length of the building, confusion crossing their dark features.
She watched as one of the men stepped forward and yelled something to his compatriots at the other end. The thick cement block walls muffled their words, but she knew they must have asked about her.
She rolled across the narrow gap between the curtains and came up along the edge of the doorjamb. She leveled her pistol where she knew her pursuer’s head would be and reached into her pocket to retrieve the suppressor. She held the gun at arm’s length while quickly screwing the silencer to the barrel.
She had just tightened the black cylinder when she heard the muffled sounds
