Bridger slammed the magazine onto the workbench forcefully, cutting him off. He slowly turned to face Mauk and raised a brow at him. “I. Don’t. Care.” He turned and faced the others. “There’s nothing holding any of you here. I’ll deal with Mario myself.”
Gregg set his coffee cup down and approached the big man. “You know I’ve never gone against you and it has nothing to do with your capabilities or your size. I always respected the way you thought and how you could step up and take charge and…” He held his hands up and stopped himself before he burnt a bridge between the two. “But you need to take a fuckin’ chill pill. WE are your team. We are all here with you, ready to follow your lead on this. You don’t want to bring in Baba Yaga? That’s your call. I think it’s a stupid fucking call, but it’s YOUR call. You want to face Mario and his forces in the darkness of the tombs, fine. We’ll face the fuckers in the tombs. But you need to quench this fire inside you before you end up with nothing but a 10MM in one hand and your dick in the other.” He gave Bridger a knowing look. “And don’t say you don’t care. We don’t care that you don’t care. Just don’t push us away and refuse to listen to our input. We are ALL on the same side here.”
Bridger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Copy.” He turned and faced the others, his face stoic. “I’m not one to apologize, so if you’re waiting for one, you’re out of luck.”
“I’ll settle for a cold one,” Gregg chimed in.
“Good job,” Laughlin muttered. “Felt like it came straight from the heart.”
DJ Squeezed the man’s shoulder hard enough to make him wince. “Clue us in, Top.”
Bridger sighed as he set the ammunition aside. “Mario has a hard on for us, we know this now. What we don’t know is why.”
“Does it matter?” Mauk asked softly.
Bridger shook his head. “Nope. Not in the slightest. The only thing that matters is that we throw him off his game.”
Lisa sat on the opposite end of the couch. “And you think that digging in at the catacombs will throw him off his game?”
Bridger nodded slowly. “Last year when the house was leveled, I closed up shop and came here. But the land is still mine, and the greenery is coming back slowly but surely.” He shrugged. “I still go to the tunnels and make sure there hasn’t been any cave ins or critters sneaking around inside, chewing on the wiring or…” He scoffed and sat on the sawhorse. “There’s three quarters of a mile of tunnels spread across forty acres. That was supposed to be my fallback if the shit ever really hit the fan around here.”
DJ gave him a knowing look. “I dunno, Top. Are you really okay with blowing it all to hell to stop Mario?”
Bridger slid off the sawhorse and nodded. “If it keeps my team alive and out of their crosshairs, hell yeah. I’d blow up half the county and most of Mexico.”
Mauk nodded slowly. “Okay. We take tonight to study the maps of your tunnels then get some rest. First rays of sun and we hit the bricks.”
“Agreed.” Lisa came to her feet and picked up the maps.
As the rest of the team slipped away to the breakfast bar to study the maps, Gregg approached Bridger. “Sorry to bust your chops.”
Bridger smirked. “I guess I needed it.” He clapped the smaller man’s back. “Thanks for slapping me awake before I did something I’d regret.”
Slippy winked at him. “I’m not just a freelance proctologist, ya know.”
Langley Virginia
“We’ve tracked the Mexican national to a penthouse in Houston,” Ingram stated as he read through the file in his hand. “We haven’t gotten a solid ID, but we’re told that he is definitely the head of the Murillo cartel.”
Jameson groaned as he reached for the file. “Is it solid enough to send local law enforcement in to pick him up?”
Ingram scoffed as he poured himself a scotch. “You want to send locals after one of the biggest cartel heads?” He sipped the burning amber liquid then smirked. “You like feeding boys in blue to the bad guys or something?”
“Fine.” Jameson shut the file forcefully. “Send in federal forces.”
Ingram shook his head. “Knowing and proving are two different things.” He sat down across from the older man and crossed his legs. “We are certain he heads the cartel, but we have no proof of anything illegal. Hell, we don’t even know the man’s name.”
“Then find out, Robert.” Jameson slid the folder across the desk to him. “It’s after hours anyway. Set up surveillance on him and have them tap the phones, bug the penthouse…hell, send in a hooker with a wire on her. Do something that moves this along, will you?”
Ingram smiled and held the crystal up in salute. He downed the last of the liquor then came to his feet. “Very well. I’ll notify the local authorities and have a federal team set up surveillance.” He set the glass on the bar then buttoned his coat. “Meantime, you might want to join me at the war room.”
“For?”
“The strike team you authorized is already set up in the woods around Bridger’s compound.” He raised a brow at him. “You’re not the only one that has people to call him when certain flags are tripped.”
Jameson sighed and rocked his chair slightly. “It will be screened here, Robert.” He raised a brow at him. “The war room doesn’t need me sitting in the back row watching it on the big screen when they can simply send the signal here.”
Robert gave him a surprised look. “And here I thought you’d rather watch it in theater.” He turned for the door. “It is high definition on the big screen.”
“Good night, Robert.”
Director Jameson watched him pull the door shut
