Sin and her unit eyed the monitors. Each one showed a different angle on the church. “Has Heap beefed up security since our ‘visit’?”
“Heap has added security walking the perimeter,” Charlie answered.
“Just one?”
Charlie nodded. “I’ve seen only one extra guard in the last few days.”
“How did you check without being spotted?”
Charlie shot a quick glance at the computer monitors. “The cameras, obviously.”
“Wise ass.”
Charlie smirked. “I also did a bit of ground reconnaissance. The church borders the cemetery. I just went to visit some ‘old’ friends.”
Sin didn’t respond. She was so intent on what she was seeing that she didn’t even hear Charlie. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” she said pointing to the monitor.
“What do you see?”
“Can you zoom in on the corners of the roof? Right where Heap had those gargoyles placed.” Sin shook her head. “What the fuck did he think he was building,” she mumbled, “Notre Dame?”
Charlie zoomed in the cameras for a closer shot, already knowing what Sin would find.
“I’ll be damned,” Sin blurted, “machine gun turrets hidden by the statues.” She pointed at the video as her eyes darted from the monitor to Charlie and back again. “If this isn’t the proof we needed to show he’s involved, I don’t know what is.” Sin said. “We need to drag his fat ass in for questioning.”
“If he’s involved, he won’t miss the final show. We’ll catch up to him tonight.”
Sin agreed and pointed to the surveillance footage. “What do we do about the machine guns?” Sin asked. “That’s some serious firepower.”
Charlie looked over his shoulder and smiled. “We take them out.”
“How—”
“Hold that thought,” Charlie said opening a file cabinet.
Sin watched as he placed his hand inside the top draw and depressed a button. To her amazement, the side wall of the room slid open and revealed an ammunitions bunker.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she laughed.
“You never know what you’ll need or when,” Charlie said.
“If we ever decide to take down the U.S. government, I think we’ll be okay,” Fletcher said sarcastically.
Charlie pulled two M40A5 sniper rifles off the wall along with two full magazines. “I have a feeling you’ve fired one of these before,” he said, handing one to Sin.
“Not officially, but it feels familiar.” Sin placed the rifle and the magazine in a duffel bag and pulled a box of .45 caliber bullets from the shelf. “You mind?”
“Mi casa, su casa,” Charlie replied.
Sin looked over at Troy. “Did you understand that ‘Spaneesh,’ or should I translate?”
“Screw you, O’Malley,” he smiled.
“Later, big boy.”
Charlie glanced at his wrist watch and said, “Come on, we have a lot to cover before we leave for the cemetery.”
“Yeah, about the cemetery,” Sin hedged. “Now that my unit is here, I want them to make the hit with me.” She put her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “I need your expertise here to guide this mission.” Charlie went to object, but Sin stopped him. “These eleven people have been with me for every mission I’ve conducted in the past six years. We know each others’ moves before we know them ourselves. If this gets messy―and I have a feeling it will―it’s our best chance.”
Fletcher took a step forward and stood next to Sin. “Kinda hard to fight that logic, mate.”
Charlie took a deep breath, exhaled, and nodded agreement. “In that case, let me show you the plan I came up with and get your opinion on it.”
45
By eight p.m., everyone was in place. Garcia―a trained sniper―was located on the roof of the mortuary to the south of the church. Sin had located herself on the roof of a storage facility to the north and Fletcher and three of the unit were aboard a skiff―in the gulf―‘fishing.’ The rest of Sin’s unit were located at an all-night diner a couple miles away in case they were needed.
Troy, due to his injuries, was back at the Johnson place with Charlie who was manning the control room. Charlie’s computer monitors were each focused on a different perspective of the church: two on the roof, one was on the front gate, and the other scanned from the front door to the rest of the grounds.
All was quiet.
“Can I get an audio that everyone can read me?” Charlie radioed.
“Loud and clear. No action,” Garcia answered.
“Same here,” Sin acknowledged.
“Nothing biting, not even the fish,” Fletcher responded.
“Radio silence will commence immediately unless you have a visual. Over,” Charlie said.
No one responded.
A black pick-up truck drove up to and through the gate at eleven p.m. without even stopping at the guardhouse. The guard just waved as the truck drove through.
“That’s Miller’s truck,” Troy said.
“Everybody, stand down and be on alert,” Charlie radioed. “The party is about to heat up.”
At eleven thirty, a box truck labeled ‘commercial cleaning’ pulled up to the gate.
“We have more company,” Charlie radioed. “Commercial cleaners, but the box truck looks too big to hold vacuums and mops. There are two men in the cab, but I can’t I.D. either from this angle. I’ll follow it and keep you informed.”
“Ten-four,” Sin answered. “Garcia, be ready.”
“Always.”
Sin peered through the scope of her rifle to see if there was any unusual activity on the roof. Up till now, the machine gunners had been pretty lax. As the truck drove through the gates of the church, all that changed. She watched as the gunners pulled night vision glasses onto their eyes and took their positions in their respective turrets.
“The truck is backing into the loading dock.” Charlie said as he stared—bug-eyed—at the monitor.
“My view is blocked,” Garcia said.
“Same here,” Sin echoed.
Charlie gave a blow-by-blow. “Truck doors opening and the two men getting out. I don’t recognize the driver, but the passenger is York.”
“Prick,” Sin snarled.
“Both heavily
