Redemption (16 page)

“By the way, guys, your beauty masks have done you good,” said Gonzo, referring to their mud-caked faces.

“Thanks, Gonzo, mud masks keep the appearance of youth. It explains why we’re more lovely than you,” said Namara.

“Me, I don’t need a mask, I’m naturally gorgeous!” said Gonzo.

“That’s enough, men, keep it on point!” Taz scolded.

Twinkie responded by farting like an old diesel motor trying to turn over.

“I said shut it!” Taz shouted, irritated, at Twinkie.

“Why, Sarge… I didn’t say anything!” Twinkie retorted, playing dumb.

Everyone was laughing, looking at Twinkie who toyed with his knife, grinning.

“Ok. Me and Twinkie will take charge of the western block, Gonzo and Mike the eastern. Namara and Guerra, south. When we have control of our respective sections, we’ll regroup at the north end to take total control. Before infiltrating the camp, we eliminate everything we see in silence to keep the element of surprise as long as possible. The more we stay silent, the less shitheads we have firing at us with their Kalashnikovs by the time they figure out what’s happening, see?” said Taz.

They nodded in agreement.

“At the moment where you notice that we are spotted, we swarm the place without stopping. We position at our respective spots from now during complete darkness at exactly four hours, I give the signal on the radio to begin the attack. Questions?”

Silence.
“Let’s go, men, and make sure we get back safe and sound! Do your work!” he said, slipping on his backpack and hat.

*     *     *

“Go! Go! Go!” shouted Taz over the radio waves.

There were two men talking close to Namara and Guerra. Both aimed with their guns and two whistles were heard muffled. The two men collapsed on the ground, each with a bullet lodged in their head. Their guns fell to the ground with a muffled sound. They stayed hidden in their position, waiting to see if the other traffickers would pass in their direction. Nothing. Silence. Suddenly, they heard a shout in Spanish. That was the signal that indicated the traffickers had spotted them. Guerra and Namara sprang into action, leaping into the camp.

“Let’s rock, Namara!” shouted Guerra, while the latter followed him in step sweeping with blasts from their weapons.

Both passed the length of the building and arrived at the corner, they saw a trafficker aiming without a doubt at another of their group in the opposite direction. Guerra engaged him the quickest. He fired a bullet that attained the back of his head, which loosed a red spray of blood at the moment of impact. Guerra pointed the first building to their right. The two stationed themselves at either side of the door. In a jerk, Guerra kicked the door in. Namara immediately threw a stunt grenade inside. A huge explosion ensued, followed by several grating screams. The two entered like lighting into the building. Namara heard a blast of fire from his right that indicated Guerra had encountered resistance on his side. Namara entered in a little room and saw on a fraction of a second a trafficker pointing at him and who looked only to fix his gun on Namara to make fire. The speed of entrance and his training resulted in his enemy receiving a bullet in the heart and head in the space of a second. He left as fast to enter the next room until the first building was secured.

“Clear!” cried Namara, to communicate his side was under control.

“Clear!” Guerra repeated.

“Pull out!” said Namara, running toward the exit with Guerra at his heels.

When both left the building, they saw Taz and Twinkie entering full speed the building across from them. Namara ran toward the second building under control. With a heave, he smashed in the door. Two AK-47 blasts were heard. Namara heard the whistle of bullets destined for them who exited the door. They were waiting for them this time. Guerra threw a smoke grenade, then a stunt grenade that produced an explosion. Guerra entered and Namara followed. The room was full of smoke, but Namara could see a trafficker trying to recover from the flash that had left him temporarily blind. Namara fired a bullet at his head and Guerra did the same a few meters into the room. The room was full of cocaine spread out over huge tables overhung by floor lamps. There were several barrels and packages of chemical products that piled on each other on the ground.

“Clear!” shouted Guerra.

“Clear!” Namara responded.

Their respective zones were now under control. They rushed with the speed of lighting toward the north zone. All the other members arrived about the same time. The plant was controlled and fifteen traffickers were dead without a single hurt member of the team. Namara checked his watch and saw that they’d taken four minutes.

*     *     *

“Perfect! Return to your respective sectors and search in depth to see if anyone escaped. Then, take photos of the drugs, the facilities, and the bodies. As usual, burn everything and break it all! Go!” said Taz.

They dove into quick work and methodical means. A strong smell of ether overhung the cocaine-filled rooms. According to Guerra, there must have been millions of dollars’ worth of drugs. The left the camp after every building had been set aflame. The group retreated from the area to camouflage themselves again and watch the roaring fire. When the flames had ravaged the majority of the facilities, the group let definitively to regroup at their pick-up zone situated three miles from where they were. Arriving at their destination, Taz sent a radio signal indicating to the pilot that they were ready to be picked up.

“Brilliantly done, lads,” said Taz.

All the members aimed their guns into the jungle, searching for enemies who might have followed them. They secured the chopper’s perimeter, waiting for it to arrive. A noise of propellers was heard from far away after a few minutes. It landed and the teammates embarked on a run. The machine gained altitude with a jerk and they left.

“Great work, wanker! You did good!” said Guerra with a smile.

“Thanks,” responded Namara, returning the smile and shaking his hand.

“Yeah, great work,” said Twinkie.

They all clapped Namara on the back for his work, knowing that the mission was his first and he’d been at the top. Namara let the adrenaline in his body subside peacefully, swinging his feet in the emptiness and watching the canopy rush by underneath.

CHAPTER 18

Namara was exhausted. It had been two days since they had mounted their attack in the marshy zone without shut-eye. They had been advised that there was an exchange going down in a precise location. A transaction of several kilos of cocaine was foreseen between two cartels. The exchange was a sign of a possible alliance between two rival cartels and Taz had been advised that the CIA and MI6 (British intelligence) wanted no such alliance. The goal was to break it up to weaken them and Taz had been ordered to eliminate the traffickers during the exchange to destroy the tentative link of trust that was born between the cartels. In killing the lot, every chief would suspect the rival clan of fixing an ambush that had gone wrong, causing the death of everyone. Moreover, the group had been warned that several influential members of each cartel would be present, which rendered their efforts more devastating. Intelligence knew that several of the transactions were foreseen. Several raids were required of the unit to sow dissent among the traffickers. If the attacks proved fracturing, they assessed that within one month, the cartels would declare war between themselves and several traffickers would eliminate each other with no mercy until no-one remained alive. Intelligence services wanted it passionately.

Taz had orders to hide with his team at a precise location in a marshy zone over an area of several miles. By all evidence, the transaction would happen by boat, one of the best ways to avoid attack because of the difficulty of the environment. The only way to reach the rendez-vous was to have a boat and to know exactly where the place of meeting was and the hour. They hadn’t thought, however, of an escape inside their group. The informant had given them the exact site of the meeting, but not the moment. All they had for intelligence was that the meeting had to take place on a precise day indicated according to the day before. Taz’s group went by boat and plunged into the marsh to await the moment when they would see the traffickers turn up. The marsh of this zone contained all the bugs that could be imagined going by the snake and alligators passing by the numerous variety of creatures without name that lived at the bottom of this mass of stagnant water. Gonzo had warned Namara to never piss in the marsh because certain bugs could crawl up your urethra and camp out in your bladder. Namara wasn’t enthusiastic about having to be immerged in a place swarming with predators, bugs and bacteria. The idea was to move as little as possible underwater so no predators could decide to attack by noting their presence, Guerra had said. One had to camouflage as much as possible near the giant tree roots that the marsh contained. To immerse just under the armpit and wait, with which Taz had been told. They were on their second day of being immobile and waiting in the viscous water that regularly moved, proof that they had several visitors near them. Namara preferred to not think about what could be underwater and concentrated on the task.

In the wee hours of the morning, they heard a sound of motors approaching from far away. A boat carrying five men armed with submachine guns stopped about five meters from Namara. The boat remained for about twenty minutes without noticing the commando that was camouflaged in the marsh in different places. For the moment, Namara was the closest to the boat and if things didn’t change, he would have to react first. A second sound of motor was heard. The second boat contained a dozen equally armed men. The meeting began and a discussion arose between two men so the boats were halted facing each other. Taz and his men observed some moments that uncoiled and it was evident for the group that they were witnessing a real drug exchange between traffickers. Namara was the first to act. He pointed his M16 toward the boat, initiated the grenade launcher under the barrel and fired. A brief whistle was heard and the grenade hit the boat speedily. The boat exploded, pulverizing the drugs, the occupants and the craft itself. The traffickers were killed before realizing what happened. A mass of metal, cocaine and pieces of people through the smoke cloud in the swamp water after having been launched several meters in the air following the explosion. Twinkie had blown up the second boat barely a few seconds after the first. The cohort tried to camouflage as much as possible to avoid catching debris following the deflagration. The swamp had a new calm after a few seconds, their mission had succeeded.

Before returning to camp, the group walked a distance of many kilometres before being picked up by the chopper. Less equipment had been necessary for this mission so the weight of the packs were diminished. However, Namara had trouble keeping up with the group from the start. He felt like his pack weighed tonnes and he wondered if he wasn’t in shape these days. He was exhausted, but he continued out of pride so as to not slow the group down.

“Hey, why are you lagging like that Namara?” asked Mike with a smile, casting a glance to the back of the line.

“I’m not lagging!” he retorted.

But in fact, he lagged. Arriving at camp, Taz asked that he pull out his flashlight from his pack. Namara opened it for the first time on the mission and removed two huge rocks that had been snuck into his bag.

“What the shit… which idiot loaded me up!?” he shouted.

Everyone collapsed in laughter at Namara’s face. He knew perfectly at what point someone had dumped the rocks in his bag. He had left it unattended a few seconds after the group’s departure and they’d amused themselves to pass the time. He swore never to be taken again.

“Bunch of asswipes… I’m hauling this shit for two days. I get why I’m beat! If I find out who did this…” said Namara, pulling out the rocks with all his strength.

They laughed louder, satisfied with their joke. Later, Namara saw another group return from a mission. The group had been ordered to observe activities that uncoiled with certain terrorist organizations. For that, they had been isolated for a long time, nearly two weeks behind enemy lines. The group had met resistance and a fusillade had exploded, injuring one of their men’s legs. He saw the wounded soldier on a stretcher with his open leg wound. The gash was full of maggots. Namara grimaced with disgust at the sight. He guessed the wound had become infected and he would probably lose it.

“It’s disgusting, the maggots are going to eat him alive!” said Namara.

“Yeah, but it’s probably the maggots that’ll save his life,” said Gonzo.

“Ok, I’ll bite…
how
?”

“Well… maggots are a method of healing used when we’re hurt and there’s no other care around. The idea is to leave the wound open so the flies can lay their eggs. The eggs transform into maggots that’ll eat the bad tissue and help the cicatrisation. The problem being, when they eat the bad tissue, they continue onto the good. You have to get them out, or they’ll gobble you up alive! But the maggots, it’s probably them who’ll save his life. Or they’ll suck his blood right out.”

Namara grimaced again.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said, sniggering as he collected his backpack. “In fact, those maggots remind me of my ex-wife. But with her, it was my money that she gobbled up without stopping, after having taken the house, of course!”

“So never introduce me to her sister if she has one,” Namara retorted.

The two laughed from fatigue, their packs on their shoulders and his submachine gun in his hand going toward their change room. Both were dirty and stank from the journey. Their faces were blackened by dirt.

“By the way, have you been told lately that you’re a handsome guy?” said Gonzo with irony, appraising Namara’s face, unrecognizable from the dirt.

They laughed again, more, and Namara dropped his bag from the crazy laughter. Gonzo had to stop too from the force of his guffaw.

“Stop! My stomach’s going to bust!” said Namara with tears in his eyes.