“Understood, señor.”
Raul watched the man leave then slowly lowered his head to his arms and closed his eyes. This war that el jefe left behind had worn him down in so many ways that he was almost ready to accept the peace of death.
Almost.
38
Near Quitman, TX
“Wait, where’s the compound?” DJ asked.
“You’re looking at it,” Gregg mumbled. “At least, what’s left of it.”
Even Mauk had to give Bridger an incredulous stare. “Dude, there’s nothing left but a few burnt trees.”
Bridger rolled his eyes and stopped the van. “You’re looking with your eyes,” he grumbled as he stepped down from the utility van. “You should know me well enough by now to realize that things aren’t always what they appear.”
Laughlin appeared at the front of the van. “What are we doing here?”
“Grabbing our gear,” Bridger stated flatly. “And watch your step. They might have dropped enough munitions on this place to flatten it, but there are still active boobytraps.”
Gregg chuckled and muttered under his breath, “I love how he says, ‘booby.’” He snorted as he scooped up his laptop bag and the duffle at his feet. “I call dibs on the deepest grave.”
Lisa groaned. “You’re not funny.” She turned to Bridger. “Where’s the tunnel access?”
“Which one?” he smirked as he hefted the munitions. “Grab your gear and meet me at that hill over there.” He nodded with his chin.
The others grabbed their gear and made their way up the washed-out gravel driveway. The fallen trees had made the trip dangerous by foot and impossible to navigate in anything smaller than a military grade Humvee.
Bridger reached for a small, dead tree and pulled it away from the concealed door. “This used to be my house.” He raised a brow. “Until an asshole decided to bomb it to oblivion.”
He kicked the door open and the others followed him inside, giving their eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.
“You want us to defend this?” Laughlin asked. “This is worse than the bunkers.”
Bridger ground his teeth as he pushed through the living room and into a rear bedroom. He barely glanced at the plate steel covering the gun cabinet under his bed before dropping his gear on the mattress. He kicked at the floor board next to a dresser and pushed the dresser aside. With a free hand he pushed the wall back and to the side. “We use this.”
Lisa bent low and peered into the darkness as battery operated lights flickered and popped to life. “When you said ‘tunnels,’ I was thinking more like a trench, or…”
DJ smiled broadly and clapped Bridger’s back. “Top, I thought I went off the rails. You got me beat.”
“Shut up.” Bridger snatched his bag from the mattress and pushed past the others. “I’ve got a map for you in here.”
The crew glanced at each other then entered the dimly lit tunnel. “I still call the deepest grave,” Gregg murmured under his breath. “As pretty as I am, I wouldn’t want the bad guys to molest my corpse.”
Laughlin pushed past him. “You are seriously twisted, you know that?”
Gregg shot him an evil smile. “You have no idea.”
The tunnel emerged into a larger, round area with work benches and shelves lining the walls. Stacks of books and reloading equipment were covered with a fine layer of dust.
Mauk ran his finger along the edge of a bench and raised a brow at Bridger. “I take it you let the cleaning lady go?”
“I haven’t been back since I moved to the bunker.” Bobby dropped the bag on the central table and stepped back. He tugged at the corner of a sheet and revealed a crude map. “There is approximately three quarters of a mile of tunnels.”
DJ let a low whistle loose. “How? I mean…didn’t the bomb that flattened the woods cave them in?”
Bridger shrugged. “I have no idea what parts are still standing. I would assume most, since these were carved out of a solid layer of sandstone.”
“There’s no way you could have done this by yourself.” Laughlin stepped closer and stared at the diagram.
Bobby sighed. “I spent nearly three years and wore out a perfectly good Bobcat skid-steer with a jackhammer attachment.”
Lisa turned and gave him a worried look. “What the hell?” She tilted her head as she studied him. “Why?”
Bridger leaned against the workbench. “After I left operations, I went to a really…dark place.” He gave a slight shrug. “I always felt that my past would come looking for me.”
“So you built an underground house and a mile of tunnels?”
He took a deep breath as he considered his reply. “Yep.”
Mauk tossed the duffel he carried onto the workbench. “Work with what we have, I always say.”
“You never say that,” DJ prodded. “You just thought it sounded good.”
“There are four surface accesses. Poured concrete stairs that lead down here. They’re marked with green Xs on the map.”
“You want them wired?” Gregg asked.
Bobby squinted as he stared at the diagram. He slowly shook his head. “No. I want them to think we rushed down here. No time to set trip wires.”
“They’ll need a reason to think that,” Laughlin said, rubbing his chin. He glanced to Bridger and raised a brow. “I think they’ll need some kind of incentive to just rush in.”
“What are you thinking?”
Laughlin took a deep breath and fought to keep his voice even. “I’m thinking bait.” Lisa gave him a sidelong glance but held her thoughts to herself. “I wish we had eyes in the sky to know where they were or…some kind of intel as to when they plan the attack, but I think if I took that lowrider back towards your old place, I could lead them here quick enough.”
“What’s to stop them from killing you on the road?” Mauk asked.
Laughlin gave a slight shrug. “My incredible driving skill, I hope.”
Bridger shook his head. “No.
