Jameson watched as the screen turned to black and white and a half dozen heat signatures registered. He fished his cell phone from his breast pocket and quickly pressed the redial button.
When the voice answered, he smiled. “Commander, be aware that you have six men milling around the area.”
“Is that all?” he asked.
“That’s all that show up on screen.”
There was a short pause before he came back on the line. “That doesn’t sound like much of a hit squad to try to take out seasoned operators.”
Jameson’s frazzled mind made the connection and he had to agree. “That’s all that shows in infrared.”
The unit commander’s voice held a twinge of disbelief when he spoke again. “Based on the structures we found at the other location, what are the odds that your man has an underground base of operations at this location?”
Jameson had to agree, the assumption made sense. “The structure that he was using as a domicile was, in fact, an underground structure.”
“Copy that.” The commander’s voice held a tone that Jameson couldn’t identify. The line went dead and he stared at the phone.
“Yes, well…you’re welcome.”
Near Quitman, TX
DJ clenched his jaw and spun around the corner, shooting along the base of the wall near where the men stood. Most of the cartel enforcers either turned and ran or dove to the side, bringing their weapons to bear on his position.
He knew that the magazine was nearly empty when his eye caught the light yellow marking on the wall. He brought the barrel to that position and angled towards the ground, praying.
He didn’t have time to react as the dynamite blew, spraying sandstone and rocks outward like a shotgun.
He threw himself behind the corner of the intersecting tunnel and rolled to his side, his skin suddenly on fire. He brought his hands up to his face and saw the tiny droplets of blood beginning to form where the sand had been embedded in his skin.
“Fucking great,” he groaned as he struggled to get his feet back under him.
He staggered along the rock hallway, trying to force another magazine into the rifle as his feet tripped and stumbled.
He paused at the midway point, his vision blurring and his ears ringing. His hand groped at his vest and he keyed his coms. “Top? I fucked up, man.” He continued to stagger along the wall, trying to make his way back to the staging area. He waited for a response then keyed his coms again. “Slip? Are you there? I can’t hear you man…my fucking ears are…”
He slowed his approach and felt his legs weaken. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to ya, bro.”
He slid down the rough rock wall and landed hard on his knees. He chuckled to himself as the carbine dropped from his grip. “Do me a favor bro…bury me face down…so they can all kiss my ass.”
Near Quitman, TX
Mauk searched the tunnel carefully and peered down the length behind him. Ever since he’d triggered the second claymore, he’d heard nothing.
He bent lower, his eyes watering from the grit and dust, praying he could locate the TNT he’d planted along the wall. “It’s got to be close.”
He glanced behind him again and tried to judge the distance. He turned back to the task at hand and continued the search.
A muffled blast sounded far too close, and Mauk sat up, his eyes trying to cut through the haze and tears. He listened intently and thought he heard somebody talking.
He struggled to come to his feet and abandoned his search for the dynamite. He approached the connecting tunnel between him and DJ and strained his ears to listen. He could hear laughter and knew that it was DJ.
“Joe!” he called out. He strained to listen and shook his head, trying to push the ringing out of his head. “Dammit, DJ, answer me!”
He ran his hand along the wall to guide him and was actually surprised when he saw the connecting tunnel come into view. “DJ!”
He paused and listened again. A low groan was all he could hear.
He took a deep breath and leveled his rifle, ready to cut down anybody that wasn’t Bravo. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying he could wipe some of the grit from his vision and when he opened them again, he saw the dark form of somebody lying on the ground.
He pointed his rifle at the still form and slowly approached. “Talk to me.”
DJ rolled to his back and stared up at Mauk pointing a rifle at him. “Fuck me. Please don’t let your ugly ass face be the last thing I ever see.”
“DJ?” He knelt beside him and tried to blink his vision clear. “Why didn’t you answer me when I called to you?”
“What?” DJ practically yelled.
“What happened to you? Shotgun?”
“What?”
DJ groaned as Mauk helped him to a seated position. “You okay, man?”
DJ shook his head at him. “I can’t hear shit, bro.” He struggled as Mauk helped him to his feet and had to lean against the wall to remain upright. “I fucking lost the detonator for the dynamite,” he yelled. “They were right up on it so I shot the damned thing.”
“And blew yourself up doing it.”
“What?” He leaned closer, trying to listen. “I can’t hear shit, man.”
Mauk nodded and hooked an arm under DJ’s. “Come on, dumbass. We gotta get you looked at.”
“What?”
“I said your sister ain’t half as good as your mom in the sack.”
DJ smiled at him, no clue what he said. “Thanks man.”
Near Quitman, TX
Laughlin slapped at his tactical vest and gave Lisa a frightened look. “I’m out.”
She fired more rounds around the corner and ejected the magazine. “That was my last, too.” She pulled her pistol and met his gaze. “Where’d you stage the ammo?”
Laughlin gave her a surprised look. “I don’t…” He shook his head. “It was a side tunnel but…I’m turned around.”
“Great.” She turned and fired blindly into the tunnel. When she turned back she raised a brow at
