“Easy. Easy…don’t put yourself in a relative crossfire with your own people.” He realized he was attempting to direct the firefight with people who couldn’t hear him and cursed himself under his breath.
He watched as another heat signature, fading in and out, seemed to appear in the middle of the main bunker. “What the…” He leaned forward and stared at the image, unsure how to read it. “What I wouldn’t give for a real time view of what the hell is going on in there.”
He continued to study the fading heat signature and raised a brow when it suddenly flared to life. Whoever it was simply appeared in the middle of the bunker and an obvious rifle shape extended from the front of the signature. He chuckled to himself. “Somebody has a sniper nest set up.”
He glanced at the other heat signatures and realized, they ALL had sniper nests set up. He smiled to himself as he rocked back in his chair. “This should be interesting.”
South of Dallas, TX
Jaime Navarro waved his men forward and crept low along a line of scrub. He paused and cursed to himself as something snagged at his clothes and tore at his skin. “These fucking Texas thorns,” he swore as he gripped the limb and pulled it from his arm. He could feel the warn trickle of blood as it ran down his forearm.
He bent low and advanced, keeping the AK-47 close to him as he closed the distance on the bunker shaped buildings ahead. He paused when the lights died out inside and noticed that his men froze in place. “They know we’re coming,” a disembodied voice whispered.
Jaime considered the possibility then shook his head. “It’s late. They probably went to sleep.” He smiled at him. “No worries, vato. We kill them in their beds.” He came up from his crouched position and waved the others forward. “Save the big one for El Fantasma.”
He stood taller and slowly pushed through the thorny brush. He didn’t hear the subsonic, suppressed round that dropped his compatriot directly behind him.
Jaime continued to advance as his men were picked off, one by one. Those who used the trees to hide their positions found themselves entering the cold darkness of death as soon as they revealed themselves, their associates unaware that their numbers dwindled with each step.
Jaime stopped and held his fist in the air like he’d seen on television and in the movies. “Hold,” he whispered.
A quick glance to his side and he noted the van driver standing directly behind him and to his left. He scanned past the man and assumed that the others still hid in the shadows or behind cover. “Split the men. We’ll hit them from both sides,” he whispered.
“I don’t think so,” DJ replied loudly. The bark hiss of his carbine dropped the van driver and Jaime felt his sphincter tighten when the red dot of multiple lasers panned across his torso. “I think you need to drop the weapon and step forward.”
Jaime swallowed hard and felt his body begin to shake. “I ain’t afraid to die, gringo. My men will cut you to pieces with dull machetes!”
DJ laughed and Jaime turned to see a dark figure emerge from the shadows. He was about to turn and face him when Mauk’s baritone voice cut the air. “I wouldn’t.” He emerged from his peripheral view and Jaime noted the rather large rifle in his grip. “Your men are all dead.”
“It’s just you and us now, cabrón,” a woman’s voice stated from directly in front of him. “And you wouldn’t be the first gang banger I’ve cut down.”
“I wouldn’t do it, junior,” Laughlin added as he came into view. “Like they say in the Spaghetti Westerns, we got you surrounded.”
Jaime felt his anger rise and he slowly turned to peer behind him. “No. There are…” His voice cracked as he realized that he stood alone.
Jaime Navarro was never considered a large fellow. He had an evil streak in him that was fueled by the mob mentality of the cutthroat gang he had sworn his life to. Yet, here, alone in the dark, surrounded by these gringos, he suddenly felt very small. His only real regret was that he wasn’t able to die on the street, as their brotherhood preferred.
He slowly lowered the AK-47 and tried to bring the barrel up under his chin. He found that his grip was clumsy and he couldn’t find the trigger guard in the darkness. Before he could slide his hand down further, a large and imposing figure snatched the weapon from his grip and pushed him to the ground.
“Nope. Sorry, squirt. You ain’t taking yourself out just yet,” the baritone voice stated.
“We have questions for you, ese,” the woman quipped.
He felt a rough hand snatch the back of his shirt and he was unceremoniously lifted from the ground. At the very moment he decided to fight hand to hand, to inflict some kind of damage on these pendejos, he felt the sharp crack of something solid against the base of his neck and the world went completely dark.
36
South of Dallas, TX
“Wakey-wakey, hands off snakey,” Mauk teased as he slapped the thug’s face.
Jaime Navarro shook his head slightly, trying to wake up and focus when cold water splashed in his face, jerking him upright, spitting and gasping for air.
“The fuck…?” he snapped as he slung his face away.
Mauk pressed his finger to the man’s cheek. “I like this teardrop tat.” He pushed Jaime’s face away. “Ain’t that supposed to mean you killed somebody in prison?”
DJ scoffed. “This piss-ant? Must’ve snuck up behind them and shanked them in the back. He’s too little to hold his own in a real fight.”
“Untie me and find out, pendejo!” Jaime shouted.
Bridger chuckled as he sat across from the young
