Chapter 13.
After the holidays we worked non-stop six or seven days a week for months, winter gave way to spring and we needed time off. David took us off the schedule without any real plans other than to take off almost the entire month of May. We'd talked about going camping, like our favorite the Three Rivers Campground north of Tularosa but it's too close to home to be considered a proper vacation. We talked about Galveston Island but David said it couldn't be in Texas and New Mexico so I did more research. He also reminded me our sleeping bags and tents were destroyed in New Mexico. While I looked at vacation spots he ordered new camping gear.
The places I investigated camping or spending time at an inclusive resort included: Dry Tortugas -- Florida, Yukon camping in northern Canada near the city of Whitehorse, eco-camping on Midway Island, eco-camping on the island of St. John, USVI. For resorts we looked into: gay cruises along the west coast, two hotels in Boy's Town in Chicago, or Palm Springs.
When we investigated their details and reviews we found what David called `fatal flaws' with many of them, like the summer mosquitoes in Whitehorse, travel restrictions in the USVI, the gay hotels in Chicago had no vacancies, and the only gay cruise during May had no vacancies. The only place that looked promising was called The Tower. It opened almost two years ago, 272 luxury rooms in a five story facility. They had openings and booking a flight was easy, it was a two hour flight from El Paso to Las Vegas to Palm Springs, California and the resort was on the same street as the airport.
David handed me his credit card so I booked our flights and the hotel room for five nights. Check-in Sunday after 3pm, and check-out Friday morning. We upgraded to a 5th floor room that overlooked the Garden Trail, the pool deck, hot tub, and had a garden tub and balcony with an extra large bathroom and 24 hour room service/concierge. There was an Italian deli across the street with delivery, and the hotel had a secure underground parking lot if we ever drove there.
We discussed staying at a five-story hotel less than ten miles from the San Andreas Fault, but their web site boasted all the ways they exceeded all modern construction standards and were considered the safest new hotel on the west coast.
The outdoor portion featured a tropical 'exploration trail' called the Garden Walk. It was laid out like a maze and had lots of places to stop and sit and was basically an outdoor playroom for horny men. The 500 foot long trail had small patios with hanging canvas sex slings, benches, and padded pedestals to use like a bed or a platform. Their web site clearly stated the platforms were for guests to perform interactive sex acts in front of other guests. Talking/cameras/phones/weapons were not allowed but touching was, a sign by the gate said exposed flesh was an invitation for touch. Some men used the trail to show off their well manicured bodies, some used it to meet guys, some used it for a chance encounter under cover of darkness and anonymity, some just wanted to watch, and some couples used it to perform in front of an audience. I made a wet spot in my undies just reading about the place. Vacation was five weeks away, hopefully it went fast.
After we took ourselves off the schedule for May we notified our back-up team, used his cell phone on speaker and talked to the main guy, `Duke,' at his apartment near Omaha, Nebraska. We both liked his cowboy accent but secretly suspected he had a tiny dick and very long pubes.
If we quit before retirement age those were the guys that would end up taking our place. They were lifelong best friends (extremely hetero) and both served in Afghanistan in the US Army guarding the poppy fields from invasion, but they didn't call it that, they called it fighting terrorism.
So these guys were highly hetero, body builders, adrenaline junkies, hormone abusers, and so on. We actually didn't like them because to us they seemed like a dreadful American cliché. But they're college grads and explosive experts and Seal school grads, and both were divorced (no surprise there) so they shared an apartment and lived near Offutt AFB and managed their phys-ed program.
Both of these guys had Purple Heart medals and have been shot twice and recovered. We've said it as a joke but it might actually work but they'd be great body guards for some celebrity's kid in college. We would never invite them to our home but they seemed like okay guys to drink a few beers with (one time, while the sun was still up) but that's about it.
They both reminded us of a movie character, in the film Platoon, the character (Bunny) played by Kevin Dillon when he tried to impress the Lieutenant during R&R by taking a bite out of an empty beer can, that's what these guys were like in bars or at parties around girls they thought would be easy to conquer.
One hundred years ago they probably would have been circus performers with the Ringling Brothers, and called themselves: Duke Danger and Luke Lucky!
Two weeks later we went to McGregor Range to observe new weapons, both were prototypes. One weapon was a shoulder fired EMP device which could damage all electronics within range, the kill list included everything from pocket calculators to vehicle ignition circuits, communications, hearing aids, and even implanted pacemakers.
The second device was an intelligence gathering weapon, fired like a Stinger Missile but it flew with a silent electric motor and could hover above a target for an hour of surveillance. At the end of its fuel it could drop and explode on the target, crash at a designated location, or return to the launch area. It provided 3D IR imaging via satellite, or high def color video.
The new Pentagon standard was that all munitions should be fired from one shoulder fire, collapsible, reusable tube.
They were supposed to have Pentagon brass and several congressmen to witness the demonstrations. The manufacturers even had a quarter mile of paved roadway built on the range to demonstrate the technology. There were other vendors with toys on display, like munitions, explosives, gasses, and other hand held combat devices used to silently kill enemy troops without making any sound.
We arrived a bit early knowing the reps would be more at ease talking before the elected officials arrived. Most of them would fly into El Paso and ride a private tour bus ride to the range. Some flew into Holloman Air Force Base and choppered their way down to the range. We expected to see a few high dollar female escorts, free cocaine, free booze and food, and lots of enhanced breasts tightly packed into push-up bras. Usually they had women run the demo booths set up near the firing range.
The Army rented nice covered (padded) bleachers they set-up around the firing site, it was an elevated position overlooking a small valley with a short stretch of modern looking asphalt roadway, two lanes with lines, curbs, and a few signs to make it look real, except it was only about half a mile long.
The demonstration started five minutes late and was narrated by a TV news babe from a station in Las Vegas, she was hired to read a script, look busty doing it, and sound erotic reading it. I eyeballed the audience and estimated attendance around 350 pairs of eyeballs.
She said the EMP weapon was a working prototype but still being perfected and should be ready to go into production in five months. It created a variable short range pulse that damaged most microprocessors and many ordinary chips, it would damage them if they were running or powered off.
Like our other weapons this was also shoulder fired and self-guided. It used an IR camera and software that saw the target and understood what it was, even if contact was briefly lost it could re-acquire and follow. In some situations if you fired the weapon on a city street and the target vehicle drove into a crowded mall parking lot in a sea of similar vehicles it could correctly identify the vehicle 99.9 percent of the time.
Her report caused a stir in the audience and even some laughter. I'm sure some people already foresaw a scenario where a perp was being chased but drove into a parking lot with fifty of the exact same vehicles. Someone on the bleachers shouted to her that you'd find lots of those lots on the west coast where new cars were offloaded from cargo ships.
A soldier walked to the firing position in front of the bleachers (which wouldn't normally be done with a shoulder fired weapon fearing a blast injury to those behind the launcher). In the distance two regular Toyota 4WD trucks were visible slowly driving down the short section of roadway, the soldier uncapped and extended the firing tube. He lifted it to his shoulder, sighted the target truck and pressed the button. We heard through the PA speakers the same tones he heard coming from the tiny control box. He sighted the truck (about one mile from the firing position). After it toned to signal it had acquired the vehicle he released the button and re-pressed and a few seconds later there was a puff of white smoke and a flash then everyone saw the projectile shoot forward then climb into the clear blue sky.
The announcer lady asked all of us to hold the cardboard framed cellophane lenses in front of our faces, it would act similar to welding goggles and was even safe for watching an eclipse of the sun.
We saw the weapon fly about four hundred feet in the air and appear to hover in place making some slight smoke in the process, then it started to fall and steered towards the moving truck. During the descent the truck stopped then sped-up to avoid the weapon but it kept a strong lock on the vehicle and followed it. We saw it nearly hit the vehicle as it detonated. It sounded like a firecracker pop. There was a small bright flash and a little smoke and the vehicles stopped, dead. The drivers got out unharmed.
Then off to the side we saw an old McGregor Range ambulance race to the scene and the crew climbed out but the people were uninjured and felt nothing. The crowd on the bleachers was suddenly busy talking to each other.
The emcee-babe started to tell us about the cost of the weapon, the date they expected to begin production, and it would be manufactured in Tennessee and available to all branches of the military and state governments early next year. Then she invited the attendees to watch another demonstration shot.
The second shot was done by a petite woman wearing an ankle length (low cut) red dress. This time the target would be us on the bleachers.
The shooter stood alone with the shoulder fired device already up to her eye. She aimed at the mountain range to the east of us and fired. We saw a blur escape the end of the tube with a slight cloud of smoke but no backwards blast. On a large projection screen (with shades on three sides) we saw images from the air as it closed in on the bleachers and shot video with extreme close-ups of people seated on the lowest front rows. A few were cleavage shots and bald spot shots but it was amazing that it could provide that much detail in color or IR from a device that was too small and quiet for anyone to see. The emcee said it did not show up on radar and the satellite comms were encrypted. It could stay aloft for an hour and return to the firing position and could be returned for refurbishment and exchanged for another. Mass production was already underway in Nevada.
That was the end of the main demonstration, they thanked us for watching and reminded everyone to stay for dinner and drinks, and there was a shuttle bus for rides back to central McGregor Range for helicopter rides or tour bus transport back to the airports.
We stayed for the catered buffet and ran into our boss and two of the day officers (OD). We ate together at one of the tables under the large olive green tents. Outside they looked like old MASH tents but inside they had white linen tablecloths, carpet on top of sand, and top notch service. We both ate lobster and salads but declined the wine since we had to drive home. And yes, there was a table spot with a mirror, razor blade, and long lines of coke.
As we looked around at the other attendees we noticed several older men in suits were accompanied by busty women that appeared to be in their twenties, those escorts came in every race and didn't look cheap.
I asked Captain Johnson how much they cost and he said we shouldn't look at them as human pleasure dolls, they should be seen as evidence of the man being controlled by money and corruption. David nodded because stuff like that really clicked in his brain.
On the drive back to El Paso we discussed the variable EMP weapon and were glad it was being developed, it could turn out to be very popular with police departments around the world, but in the wrong hands it could be used to destroy and kill. Imagine if it was fired at a passenger jet, or above a major airport, or a nuclear power plant, or a hospital. Our boss told us they were developing a new case for all teams, it had one shoulder tube with a choice of weapons, instead of lots of different tubes and controllers. Their goal was to make them all launch from one tube. He also said the next generation of black case would look like a backpack.
For some reason once we got back to Highway-54 and headed south into El Paso neither of us had anything to say, he softly played the radio all the way home. I felt David was upset by the sight of free cocaine under the tent.
Two weeks later we were alerted on a kidnapping situation in Los Angeles, the daughter of a US Congressman was missing and believed kidnapped from a poolside bar in the suburb of Glendale. She was pre-law at UCLA at a hotel with several dormitory girl friends.
Early word was she was standing at a pool bar with friends at a hotel when three men in black ninja suits burst through the gate by the pool filter, grabbed her and ran off with her screaming and struggling the entire way, they climbed inside a vehicle (nobody saw it) and sped away. Two hours later the local police received a ransom call, the first thing they noticed was similarity to the cruise ship scheme earlier this year. A hotel security cam recorded the abduction, it lasted seven seconds until they were back outside the fence with their prize. Most of the people in and around the pool realized anything had happened. The kidnapping happened three days ago.
They alerted us due to our familiarity with the culprit, a drug lord operation in the Mexican state of Sinaloa, our old friends from Los Mochis were at it again. They also alerted us because of the congressman's connection to the NSA and the girl had a protective service but they failed miserably. We were told she wore a tracking device disguised as a cross pendant necklace on a chain. Since Mexico was largely a Catholic country they doubted anyone would confiscate or suspect her necklace.
The NSA said she was being held in a large walled compound five miles east of the city of Los Mochis, which was on the Bahia de Ohuira which connected to the Gulf of California. The compound was the business headquarters of the drug cartel in Sinaloa. They described her held in a small fort by a group of armed men with the belief that they were too rural to be invaded, and too well armed to be conquered. One big problem was Los Mochis was far outside our jurisdiction, we'd be a two-man vigilante force if we tried to do our magic in another country. David wanted to hear everything they had to say.
They wanted to fly us to Yuma to see their presentation because there were multiple teams being offered the mission: rescue the twenty year old daughter of Nevada Congressman Clyde Grimm. The way our office explained things, this was voluntary job, we were free to decline and they were offering the job to over a dozen civilian groups similar to ours.
That afternoon we were picked up at Biggs Army Airfield with our gear and flown to Yuma to the Border Patrol facility on I-8, we met in their meeting room and watched a twenty minute top secret surveillance video and saw photos of the area around the compound and inside the walls. My first question was if they were the same group responsible for the cruise ship extortion in San Diego and were told, yes, same people. They felt they were financially harmed every time a US state legalized marijuana and were experimenting with new ways to extract cash from the USA, to which they felt entitled.
The area around the Los Mochis was sloping flat farmland and was mostly used for growing coffee, corn, poppies, and marijuana. Closer to the mountains it became a tropical jungle and was heavily wooded.
The target site resembled a walled fort built in the 1800s. There were two structures inside surrounded by a twelve foot concrete wall with gates on two sides. There was barbed wire around the top of the wall and evidence of armed guards within the compound. When they showed detail about physical security David laughed out loud.
There was an unpaved road to the east from Los Mochis that paralleled a river, it ran by the compound and continued four miles higher up into the hills. The recon photos were less than six hours old that identified nearly everything inside and around the compound. It appeared the place suffered from neglect, probably related to decreasing sales of bulk marijuana and other drugs. They also showed us a factory looking building east of town that was used for meth and cocaine production. We also were shown images of where they believed the girl was being held. They demanded ten million US dollars for the release of the girl, same as with the cruise ship they wanted it deposited in a Cayman Island bank account. The money part of the kidnapping was identical to the cruise ship attempt, except that was a private company and this was a congressman's daughter. We talked a little about why they picked this particular family.
Like Rapunzel, the girl (McKenzie Grimm) was being held in the highest part of the complex, a third story room with a small outdoor patio on the rooftop. They suggested using a drone to fly her instructions and a filtration mask, then use a prototype EMP round to neutralize all their electronics and gas weapons to neutralize all their soldiers, that would leave McKenzie as the only able bodied person in the compound.
It sort of surprised me when David raised his hand and asked about the reward, the FBI woman running the meeting said it was the same as the ransom demand, ten million in US dollars, tax free, in paper money. The fine print was we could never discuss the rescue or anything about the hostage. David glanced at me but I just shrugged my shoulders because who would steal ten million from the cartel then run around bragging about it. The way she phrased her answer gave me the impression this family was known by the cartel. She also said to qualify for the reward she must be returned alive to this building within ten days.
"What about the extraction, what's their plan for that part?" He asked.
"The US Navy will provide transport to Rocky Point from the designated beach. The cartel employs many locals, gunfire at a helicopter would be very likely so helicopter extraction is not an option. The road beside the compound went to the mountains and offers more cover than escaping to the coast right away. The Navy has already dispatched to the vicinity, northwest of Los Mochis they are going to wait for a signal. After freeing her from the compound you will take McKenzie up into the hills and hide. During that time you should gather intel, select a suitable vehicle, then after 2-3 days you will steal the vehicle and drive it to a beach on the coastal highway where you will be picked up in a raft and taken to the rescue ship and taken to Rocky Point. There is a local CIA friendly that may provide transport under certain conditions but that is still being worked out."
She stood there smiling and reminded us that some of the teams present had sufficient fire power to destroy the cartel compound should it become necessary, but the goal was: 'the girl arrives here alive,' and, 'you are free to terminate as many cartel people and destroy as much of their property as necessary.'
We looked at the rest of the people in the room, both men and women, they all appeared to be two-man teams. Although we didn't see any familiar faces we were certain some of them were Seals, but probably half were private mercenaries. Some of them looked like bad dudes too, all the females had butch haircuts.
Then the speaker said the specifics of the mission would change but what she told us was an early rescue plan. The Navy was still working out the details but promised a ride would be available. Her speech reminded me that we had gas tablets to sleep people but we also had lethal gas pellets too that worked just as fast but never wore off.
David whispered to me that we should go outside to discuss the case in private. We both stood up and everyone looked at us, David said we'd be right back and turned to leave but the lady running the meeting asked us to stop, we needed to make our decision before we left the room. David told her again we needed to talk about it. So we left a room full of Seal types that were suddenly all upset with us.
We walked down the hallway and out the nearest exit. We walked around outside to find a spot where we could talk privately.
"Whaddya think?" I asked him as we walked around a fenced-in parking lot.
"Well, first off I don't trust their data or their plan, they have no reason to be totally honest with us, nor do they have any responsibility if half of what she said was bullshit." He said while we paced around a large fenced-in parking lot in the dark. In the distance was the sound of traffic on I-8 and crickets out in the desert, but I heard the anger in his voice.
"Why would they recruit teams for an extraction and give them false information that would greatly increase the risk of failure?" I asked.
"Because they don't really want McKenzie rescued, they want the money to be paid and don't care what happens to her after that. We all know Border Patrol was penetrated and infested with moles since before 9/11. That's why I don't trust anything she said, especially when they want me to go to Mexico with a machine gun to rescue some rich guy's daughter. The whole thing stinks."
"Well, she said she's an FBI Special Agent, not Border Patrol, but could it be exactly like she said?"
"Yes, I believe there's a 49% chance we were told the truth and the photos are not actually of a vacation rental in northern Italy." David answered still sounding truly upset.
"What about the extraction by submarine instead of a ship?"
"I think that's a crock of shit, how would we coordinate with them? Would they actually risk a nuclear submarine to rescue some twenty year old kid?"
"I doubt it. But don't they have diesel subs for training ops and stuff that are never on truly secret missions?" But David had nothing to say about that. I added one comment that would make him mad at me, "You got one thing wrong Hon, you said the Border Patrol is untrustworthy, but the people running the meeting were not Border Patrol, they're all FBI."
He stood there staring in my eyes for a few seconds, I could almost hear the gears turning inside his head, I knew he didn't trust the FBI either. He turned away and started walking again so I caught up and walked beside him. "With that reward we could quit and be set for life." I added but he remained silent. We walked along the parking lot fence again.
"Could we arrange our own extraction?" I asked playing Devil's Advocate.
"Sure we could, same plan as theirs, we hide for a couple days then hijack a local farmer and his truck and drive it to the coast at night, steal a fishing boat and sail into the middle of the gulf. Then we hitch a ride with one of those whale watching tour boats and sail back to Rocky Point and take a bus to the border and deliver her to this facility."
"How likely are we to make it all the way to Arizona with a spoiled twenty year old rich college kid?"
"Ummmm I'd say better than their bullshit submarine story version."
"Why would they even say that if it wasn't possible?"
"To stall long enough to see the reward paid to Mexico and then if the girl happens to stagger back across the border then so be it. If we went in there and gassed everyone and rescued this kid and got her to the Gulf alive and back to Rocky Point and into the USA and sort of did it our way then what happens?"
"We collect the reward, quit the DOD, move, then start our own music store and maybe buy a radio station, or maybe we move back home and do it there."
"What do we need that we don't have with us?"
"A top-notch foldable quadcopter and a gas mask for the girl, we got everything else except food and water."
"Did she say how we'd get to the compound?"
"No, I forgot to ask." We looked each other in the eye then slowly turned towards the door and walked back inside, down the hallway and into the conference room. Everything halted when we opened the door and sat down in the back row. The FBI lady looked angry that we left even after she said not to, the hubbub volume in the room increased when we walked back in the room.
After a few minutes David slid his chair back, stood up and interrupted her again, "How would you get us from here to the compound?"
"High speed helicopter over the Gulf." She answered with a rather upset look on her face and tone in her voice.
He looked at me and gestured to the lady and said loudly, "And now they just happen to have a high speed helicopter and a submarine sitting around with nothing else to do." Then looking back at the speaker he also asked, "We'd need a way to get the note and gas mask to McKenzie, how did you plan on doing that?" He asked.
The speaker lady used her computer to open an image on the screen behind her of a small military quadcopter, she said it was charged and ready to go, along with a small plastic gas mask and a note to McKenzie signed by her mother, as she spoke she held up a small zipper case, supposedly that was it. Their quad looked a lot like the ones we've used in the past. She also held up a clear plastic bag with the gas mask for McKenzie along with instructions.
Then I stood and asked about extraction, and she repeated their plan to use a US Navy diesel submarine and a raft to the beach. David said that sounded like a crock of crap because there was no way the Navy would jeopardize a submarine to rescue a young American held for ransom. The speaker shrugged her shoulders and said the sub was already in the Gulf, and the communications via our case would also support comms with the Pentagon and the submarine the entire time.
"And is the helicopter going to land outside the compound?"
"No, it will land on a large beach west of town, that's also the extraction point." She confidently answered his question again. She paused then added, "We have a local friendly that will transport you from the beach to the mountains in the back of an old Chevy pick-up truck, if he is available."
"If we brought McKenzie home and delivered her safely to this building how long `til the ransom was paid?"
"Forty eight to seventy two hours, by armored car, paid in cash. You'll need an ID and a pen to sign for it. Or does that plan sound too farfetched to you too?" She said sarcastically, it made everyone laugh at us.
David looked at me and whispered, "That's 60 pounds of 100 dollar bills wrapped in plastic." Then both of us looked at the woman in the business suit in the front of the room, we stood up and said we'd go get her and bring her to this very building within five days, they should get the cash ready. The entire room broke out in loud conversation, several of them laughed loudly as they looked back at us.
I heard one group of militia boys say, "The gay boys think they're going to fly down there and rescue her from the headquarters of the Sinaloa Cartel, what fucking morons! They're gonna get her killed!" After several rude comments flew around David snickered and kept his attention focused on the FBI Special Agent in front of the room.
David said loudly, "Give me the drone, and a face mask for McKenzie, we're ready to go!" And with that comment the room got even louder. I felt like we'd suddenly become mercenaries, maybe we had been all along but just now realized it. The speaker woman pulled out her cell and turned away from the microphone and started talking to someone. We were the only team in the room that accepted the challenge for ten million buckaroos.
What David said echoed in my head, 'Sixty pounds of one hundred dollar bills in clear plastic shrink wrap.'
They brought us a Ziploc bag with her mother's hand written and signed note and a clear rubber face mask with elastic strap to go around her head, and a small baggie with the drone to carry the note and mask. We grabbed all the photos of the compound and that part of the state of Sinaloa and used our glasses to scan them into the server inside our case if we lost the prints.
We spent the next hour reviewing g-maps street view of the very roads that ran from town, past the compound in the hills, then we also reviewed video of the coastal highway and the pick-up beach, we confirmed comms with the Pentagon that everything would work to half the way down the west coast of Mexico, we got into our suits and ate some food. The FBI lady said she'd store our batsuit case in her office. We were not sure why the FBI had an office at a Border Patrol checkpoint.
We sat in the conference room using the FBI woman's laptop to learn more details about the plan, the transport, and the fortress. As the rest of the groups left some of them laughed at us and we heard comments like 'plan your funeral bitches,' and 'hope you don't get caught, gays don't leave Mexican jails alive.' An hour later the entire building made a muffled thumping sound, then we figured out it must be a very large helicopter landing outside.
What landed was a Mexican Army dual-rotor chopper for heavy transport, I had no idea Mexico had stuff like that. We loaded our gear and took off heading towards the Gulf of California.
We flew at three thousand feet along the coast in the dark at 210 miles an hour and made it to the beach in 90 minutes, we were dropped off in the same place we were supposed to bring McKenzie for extraction. Before we landed I activated our case and we put on our augmented reality (AR/IR) glasses.
Before the chopper left we ran across the beach towards the road where our ride was supposed to be waiting, but we didn't know anything about it other than he'd be there.
A very old guy in an old Chevy truck was parked in the shadows on the far side of the Coastal Highway, he blinked his lights and we walked across the busy two-lane highway and climbed in back and laid down flat to remain unseen. Forty minutes later we'd cleared the town of Los Mochis and were crossing a large expanse of farmland towards the mountains and watched the vegetation slowly turn heavier than I ever knew existed in northern Mexico. The road curved a bit and paralleled a river as we got closer to the hills. Before we reached the mountains it looked like all the traffic was old guys driving older Chevrolet trucks.
"There it is!" David whispered and tapped me on the arm as we drove past a very dark structure that resembled a prison wall, but we drove past it about half a mile and stopped. The driver reached out the window and knocked on the truck body as if to say, `everyone exit the ride.' We climbed out and watched him turn around and drive back down the hill after lighting a fresh cigarette but he never spoke a word.
We silently slinked down to the river and walked on the stones along the edge of the water back down near the large concrete structure. After twenty minutes of careful marching in the dark along the riverbed we came upon our target. The area was very dark, we saw no streetlights except for way down by the coast. Silently we clambered up the river bank and then climbed a tree. He confirmed comms with the Pentagon, everything seemed to be working. Our glasses were an excellent tool for this situation because we saw everything in shades of gray.
We climbed the tree until we could see over the compound wall, the photos were totally correct. There were two buildings inside the compound that looked like two flat roofed houses, but one had a small third story addition, like a twelve foot square room with a door onto the roof and two windows, there was a light on inside the room but no signs of movement. I estimated the local time was 11pm, 'should we attack at night or during the day?' David said, 'by night and probably as soon as possible,' so with binoculars I watched the windows and the doorway into the small third floor structure to look for signs of life. David activated one of his spiders then unpacked the quadcopter.
We had no floor plan for the complex, spiders would locate all warm blooded bodies and also provide us with a basic layout, we'd be able to examine the inside of the buildings with our own eyes. We programmed a target human to locate, a Caucasian female with long blonde hair, slender, and about 5'9" tall, probably the only Caucasian in the compound, probably the only female too. He set the spider on the tree limb and let it go. We had no idea what route it would use, but it was easy to see there were no doors through the perimeter wall that faced the road.
"I wonder if they kept her in the basement."
"They probably don't have a basement, that place is probably sitting on bedrock, this is all volcanic rock under us," David answered, and I was sure he was right.
"They're probably watching us right now."
"Who?" he asked.
"The NSA and CIA." We both looked at the sky but it was cloudy, no stars were visible, I wasn't sure how well they could see though clouds, watching using radar was probably not as good as visual. Our weapons case could easily be located by several agencies, cloudy or not.
We stayed in the tree waiting for images from the spider, it took about three minutes then it suddenly appeared on our glasses. The spider scaled the wall and peered over the entire compound and so far we saw nobody outside, so it went down inside the walls, ran across the dirt then scaled the outside of the nearest structure. David used his keyboard to tell it to search top-down. We both tested the air and noted the winds were blowing uphill towards the mountains, west to east. The air was humid and warm. My wrist display said it was 89 degrees here and 91% humidity.
I whispered to David to keep in mind there were power lines along the road only thirty feet from us, he never replied, probably deep in thought.
About two minutes later the spider drone reactivated as it reached the top of the outside wall. We saw a flat rooftop patio area about twelve feet wide and fifteen feet long. The spider stayed on the wall and approached the small rooftop room moving along the outside then peered through the window.
The window opened in the middle, it had wood frame shutters on the outside, and there were no screens or bars. Inside the room sat a small bed, a table and chair, and an old TV with rabbit ears. The TV was on playing an old black and white movie with the sound muted. On the bed was what looked like a slender woman with long blonde hair asleep with her head on the pillow, she wore street clothes but didn't look distressed or tied down, shoes were on the wood floor beside the bed.
The spider entered the room and captured a close up image of her face, it certainly looked like the shots we saw of McKenzie. The spider scanned the room and did not find any electronics except the TV. It climbed off the bed and slipped under the door to survey the rest of the structure.
Just outside her door was a narrow wood staircase with railings that lead to a second floor hallway with four doors on each side, the spider saw no lock on her penthouse door. It ran from room to room, each was similar to the one McKenzie was in, like an old hotel with sleeping rooms, some were occupied, some were empty. It surveyed the entire 2nd floor and checked every room and the bathroom too. The count so far was four bodies including McKenzie.
On the first floor it found a large open room with desks, computers, and lots of file cabinets. It looked like the business end of a moderately complex business with fax machines, copiers, telephones, ceiling fans, and restrooms. It also located two private offices and found two people on the ground floor watching security camera monitors with rifles nearby and maps (Mexico, USA, and Central America) on the walls in every room.
Then we sent another spider to inspect the 2nd building and identity weapons and people and their locations while the first one completed the first floor.
David attached the plastic bag under the drone with the gas mask and handwritten instructions. The instructions from her mom said this was a rescue she should put the drone outside, and stay in bed but pretend to be asleep with her hair covering her face to hide the mask. Someone would come soon to her to walk her away from the compound after they released the gas, the plastic mask must be worn snugly and not touched.
He linked the quadcopter to our case so we (and the Pentagon) could see what its camera saw, then he climbed down. I carefully dropped the quad to him. He set it on the ground near the road, visualized the power lines, and got back in the tree and activated the motors and flew the drone above the compound then over to her window and drifted inside and landed on the floor and shut off the motors. We saw bare feet land on the floor and the drone was moved around, then it looked like the drone was taken out to the roof patio and left there in the dark. Our best assumption was she woke up read the note and everything was working according to the plan. McKenzie got back in bed.
Next, we loaded gas pellets into three spider drones and sent them over the compound wall. Inside any building all spiders knew to locate ventilation ducts, both buildings were air conditioned, but not the third floor room, but the rest of the building had central air, they would search out the air-return ducts and then generate their gas, we provided more than enough to cover both structures. This gas would pass through any filtration system.
I switched my glasses to the second spider and saw the body count in the 2nd building was two people, all on the second floor, it too looked like a hotel from the 1800s on the upper floor with six small rooms that shared a bathroom. Our spiders shared all images and data, when one saw the air ducts they all knew where they were. I signaled the first two spiders to return to David. After the gas was finished the second group would relocate so we could use them as cameras to watch for activity while we entered the compound. Six minutes later all three were in place and the first two were on their way back to us.
David and I climbed down the tree and walked to the edge of the road, David raised his left arm and using the keypad he activated all three spiders inside the buildings. We paused briefly then walked up by the perimeter wall to listen for commotion. While we listened I collapsed and stored the first two spiders in his waist pack. Slowly, we walked around the corner of the wall very quietly listening for any sounds except the crickets in the dense jungle all around us. We came up to what looked like the main door through the wall, I tried the knob but it was locked. The door felt like heavy steel.
Looking at the three displays we saw there was no movement inside both buildings we saw what looked like fog around one of the ceiling lights, so we inserted our tiny air filters, I pulled my machine gun loose and tapped the trigger, aimed at the bolt and fired one round, the door moved slightly inward, David gently pushed it with his boot and it swung open with a creak. We paused briefly then walked towards the entrance to the three story building, that door was also locked so we repeated the process.
When David pushed that door one of the spiders alerted us to movement on the first floor with a tiny red dot on our glasses, but the movement he saw was us opening the door.
We stepped inside into a large office area with nine desks and office machines. It resembled a clerical area in a 1980s office with telephones, computers, stacks of paperwork, maps on the walls, but no water cooler. We knew from the images we saw to walk around the office area to locate the stairs to the second floor and arrived at one end of a long wooden hallway with closed doors, at the far end was a narrow wood staircase, so we silently walked down the hall in tight formation and tiptoed up the narrow stairs. So far this entry was way too easy, that scared me a bit.
My heart pounded in my chest, this was the first time this year I actually removed the machine gun from my chest and carried it with a finger on the trigger.
As we slinked up the stairs I kept one hand on his lower back so we didn't bump into each other and make any noise aside from the creaking old floor boards.
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