The Surge - 03 (35 page)

It all became crystal clear after another block, a bend in the road allowing the two rangers vantage to see the enormous outline of a yacht tied alongside the river.

“That’s it,” BB said, pointing with his head. “That’s about the biggest damn boat around and a private ship to boot. I think we’ve found your man.”

The younger lawman had to agree. “Don’t take a chance on them spotting our tail. We know where they’re going now. Besides, the closer they get to home, the more diligent the driver will be.”

BB cut down the next street, turning off and then parking as soon as the blue SUV was out of sight. “What now, Ranger?”

Shaking his head, Zach responded, “We need to get a closer look at that boat. Let’s wait a bit until the dust settles and then go exploring.”

Vincent stood with Ghost, the two masterminds studying a map.

“Is it time to announce our new capital?” El General asked.

Ghost turned to the large television and seemed to be studying the ongoing newscast streaming out of Mexico City. “President Salinas is nowhere to be found,” he began. “Probably hiding with his private guard at some remote villa. The capital and Tijuana are in chaos with rioters roaming the streets. There have been two uprisings at the border refugee camp and sporadic skirmishes among the military, police, and cartel armies all over the country. Yes, Jefe, I believe it is time.”

Vincent didn’t react immediately, a sly smile creeping across his face at the realization that his dream was coming to fruition.

“We want to start with the television and radio station in Tampico first. Have your people start broadcasting what I’ve scripted. Reynosa is next … and then Monterrey. Are the warehouses full?”

“Yes, my men have been unloading truckloads of rice, beans, and other essentials for over two weeks. There are over 1,000 tons of foodstuffs ready to receive the tide of refugees.”

Ghost nodded his approval, “And the antidote?”

Again, Vincent delivered the positive news. “Yes. Our kitchen below the mortuary has been making about three pounds a day. My staff believes we’ll be able to immunize at least one million people by tomorrow. They’ll keep producing until I order otherwise.”

The terrorist seemed satisfied, “Then it’s time to untie this vessel and head out to sea. I would estimate that we should be able to return in 5-7 days, depending on Mexico City’s reaction.”

“No,” El General replied firmly. “I’ve decided to change that part of the plan.”

If he was surprised, Ghost didn’t show it. “May I ask why?”

Vincent paced for a few steps while he considered his response. “Because I feel that we can do a better job of managing the revolution from here. We can react faster if something goes wrong, and there may be situations where my presence might make the difference.”

“You are also putting yourself at great risk,” Ghost responded in a neutral tone. “While this vessel is well protected, the military still has assets that can reach her, and thus you. Are you sure about this decision?”

“Yes,” Vincent answered. “I am certain.”

Ghost shrugged, “You are the boss, El General.”

“I will go and issue the orders to take control of the television and radio station. I will also have the couriers deliver the next internet video. Will you join me for dinner this evening?”

“Of course,” Ghost replied. “It is always an honor.”

Vincent pivoted to leave, his co-conspirator studying every aspect of his employer’s body language as he exited the room.

“They’re all the same,” he whispered once alone. “They all feel they are invincible. He doesn’t want to be close by to keep control of his men, he wants to be here to relish in the glory.”

Ghost let his mind wander for a moment, images of Vincent waving to the cheering crowds from the steps at Tampico’s City Hall, drug lord turned savior. “I hope it works for you,” he continued. “As long as you keep paying me, I will say your name in my prayers to Allah.”

Zach and BB didn’t have any trouble finding a good spot to scout the massive yacht. The industrial section surrounding
Rose
’s mooring was full of two and three-story warehouses, old factories, and only a few low-rise office buildings.

Adding to his list of committed felonies, Zach made quick work of the rusty padlock securing the tallest structure within ten blocks. According to BB and his better grasp of Spanish, the immense and bare building had been a warehouse for sugar and cotton decades ago.

The interior was completely void of contents, the far-reaching concrete floors covered with nothing more than a thick layer of dust.

It took the two rangers just over five minutes of searching to find a stairwell leading to the roof where long ago air conditioning and dehumidifying equipment once existed. After climbing the iron rungs and pushing open the hatch, Zach and BB found themselves on a flat, tar roof that was thick with pigeon and seagull droppings.

“The things I do to maintain the rule of law,” BB complained, looking at the carpet of bird shit that was about to soil his boots.

Zach advanced slowly toward the edge, fully aware that El General probably had his own lookouts and scouts deployed on and around his yacht.

The younger ranger returned a few moments later, “This is the perfect spot, but we need some sort of cover. Any ideas?”

BB scanned around the level, featureless rooftop and shrugged. “Got a pigeon suit?”

“Funny. Seriously, if either of us gets close to the edge, we’re bound to be spotted. We need some sort of camouflage.”

Again looking at his now-soiled boots, BB said, “What we need is a butt load of newspaper for this bird cage.”

Ignoring his partner’s complaining, Zach decided that maybe they didn’t have the perfect location and began scouting around for a better spot. It was then that he had an idea.

“We need big cardboard boxes and some spray paint,” he announced.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, old man. Do you know where there’s a moving company hereabouts?”

BB tilted his head in bewilderment. “No, but that shouldn’t be too hard to find. Mind drawing this
old man
another picture?”

“Come on, I’ll show you instead.”

By the time the third package was delivered to media outlets throughout Mexico, the news editors and anchormen had come to expect the unexpected. This latest edition of El General’s studio-quality production didn’t disappoint.

The now-familiar face of the handsome, young actor appeared, sitting behind the same desk but with a different suit and tie.

“As I predicted just a few days ago, our nation is racked with strife and conflict. Powerful men in Mexico City are attempting to take control of Mexico by any means, and they will stop at nothing to fulfill their unwavering desire to control all of our lives.”

The image then changed, a panning view of hundreds of desperate faces staring at the camera from behind a barbwire fence. “Our brothers and sisters are being held in pens like cattle and pigs, their effort to escape tyranny resulting in internment.”

Back to the announcer, “But there is hope, my countrymen. Powerful men among us still have freedom in their hearts and maintain the will to fight.”

A map of Mexico then filled the screen, “As of today, the cities denoted on this map are hereby declared safe zones. Some of our nation’s greatest patriots have stockpiled food and medical supplies to feed those desperately trying to escape the violence that consumes the land. All citizens are welcome to join us. All will be fed and provided shelter.”

Then came a picture showing rows of dead bodies, the few living among the corpses wearing the now-familiar Haz-Mat suits so commonly seen throughout Mexico. “In addition to providing safety, freedom, and the essentials of life, these great benefactors have taken possession of a large supply of vaccine that will protect one and all from the plague unleashed by the traitors. This medicine was being hoarded by the very people you elected to our government. They intended to keep it for themselves, but now it has been liberated. Come. Join us. Enjoy the safety and health every citizen of our great nation deserves.”

The video ended with the map of Mexico returning to fill the screen.

In Tampico and a few other large cities, cartel enforcers arrived at the television and radio stations that provided millions with their daily information. Within an hour, the airwaves were filled with not only Vincent’s message of propaganda but also trusted commentators and anchormen reinforcing the story as presented. The fact that men with automatic weapons were just off camera or microphone remained unknown to the average man in the street.

Ghost watched it all from
Rose
’s media center without comment or emotion.

Finally, when the news began to cycle, he stood to leave. “Now the game begins in earnest,” he whispered.

An hour later, the two rangers returned to the warehouse – a large cardboard box, two cans of spray paint, and three furnace vents in their hands.

“Thank God for home improvement stores,” Zach snipped. “One-stop shopping for the undercover policeman.”

Ranger Bass quickly set about assembling his contraption, which consisted of painting the unfolded box a metallic gray and then gluing the metal grillwork to the outside. “It’s not perfect, but in low light and from a distance, it should pass as a rooftop air conditioner.”

To “age” his pretend HVAC system, Zach scraped up some dust from the floor and threw it on the still-damp paint.

The rangers again made for the warehouse’s stairwell, eventually exiting onto the roof. Zach lifted his invention over his head and began slowly making his way toward the edge of the structure.

BB grunted, watching the younger man duck walk bit by bit, slowly advancing toward a spot where he could observe the yacht below.

It took the young ranger almost 30 minutes to advance just a few yards, Zach wary of someone below noticing the movement. Finally, he was in position and studying El General’s vessel through a small cutout while using a pair of binoculars BB had brought along in the truck.

“I gotta hand it to ya, Zach. That’s the damndest ghillie suit I’ve ever seen,” BB said from the stairwell.

It was hot inside the box, and the ranger had to remain on his knees, but he had an excellent view of El General’s yacht and the surrounding area.

It quickly became obvious that a frontal assault was out of the question.

At both ends of the concrete pier were men with automatic weapons and cover. Zach counted three more shooters idling in the doorway of the warehouse directly in front of
La Rosa Roja
.

Movement on the sundeck drew Zach’s focus.

The woman he’d spotted shopping in town appeared, now resplendent in a formal gown. Immediately behind her, approached the same man he’d spotted at the steakhouse in San Antonio – Vincent.

A flash of disappointment streaked through Zach’s mind when Ghost failed to follow.

The ranger watched as another man arrived, a pair of wine glasses in his hands. “I wonder if you know Vincent was shopping around in Texas trying to buy my girlfriend,” the Texan whispered to the hostage. “I wonder if Chey was going to be your replacement or competitor.”

Zach continued to observe as the couple sipped their wine while standing at the rail and observing the river beyond. “At least, I’ve got the kingpin,” he grunted. “Ghost is probably out delivering the plague to an orphanage. I’m sure he’ll be back in time for dinner.”

On cue, another figure entered into the magnified circles of Zach’s vision. It was Ghost.

“You son of a bitch,” Zach hissed, his first thought being to rush down to the truck, grab his rifle, and rain volleys of hot lead down on his nemesis. “I knew you were behind all this. I knew this entire bag of shit had your stink all over it.”

Ghost had brought his own wine and soon joined his hosts at the rail. “Now aren’t you just one, big, happy, narcotic-supplying, plague-producing, dysfunctional family,” Zach growled. “Isn’t the view from your mega-yacht lovely this evening? I wonder how the poor people onshore are doing out there thanks to your influence. I am curious if watching your nation’s children gunned down in a crossfire is your evening’s entertainment?”

The ranger wanted Ghost more than anything he could ever remember. Watching the casual wine sipping made his heart race with fury as adrenaline surged through his veins. His only respite came when he recalled how it felt as his fists slammed into the terrorist’s face during their brawl in Istanbul. “I wonder how long it took before you could eat without pain, bitch.”

Zach forced himself to turn away, his mind churning to formulate a workable plan of attack.

El General had chosen his hiding spot well, Zach eventually admitted. It would take a small army to overcome the ring of security that surrounded the floating keep.

Perhaps an airmobile assault team could leverage the element of surprise and board the boat, but they would suffer extensive causalities in the effort.

Armor could pierce the defenses, but by the time the large, noisy machines could approach, Zach was sure Vincent would be motoring at high speed out to the open sea.

Zach wondered about a waterborne assault, the ranger having read about the U.S. Navy Seals practicing such tactics. But he didn’t have a SEAL team on speed dial and doubted if President Clifton would answer his call.

He could snipe Ghost and Vincent from his current position, the 500-yard shot doable, even with the small caliber rifles he and BB had brought along. That, however, was a suicide mission. It wouldn’t take a ballistics technician to figure out where the shots had originated, and Zach was sure El General’s men would turn the warehouse into a deathtrap in less than a minute.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Ghost. You’ve picked one hell of a spot to ride out the looming war and pandemic.”

Zach retreated back to the stairwell and soon joined BB, who was keeping a lookout below.

After listening to the younger man’s report, BB nodded toward a building down the street and said, “Something’s going on in that other warehouse as well. A semi pulled up while you were on the roof, and a bunch of cartel thugs starting unloaded the cargo. The place is full of pallets and boxes. I think we’ve found El General’s stash house.”

Zach studied BB’s discovery for a bit, finally turning and admitting, “I can’t figure out a way to get at them. That fucking boat is built like a battleship, and no doubt it’s twice as fast. Even if we could muster enough firepower to shoot our way through their defenses, Vincent and Ghost would be motoring off to the deep blue yonder before we could even get aboard.”

“And who knows how many shooters he has on the yacht,” BB added. “Even if we did somehow manage to board her, that might be the same as jumping from the frying pan into the fire.”

A feeling of helplessness flooded Zach’s mind. He’d finally tracked down the men responsible for so much death and destruction, and yet they were unreachable – as if they were on another planet.

BB sensed his partner’s dwindling mindset. “You haven’t slept much the last few days. Let’s go someplace comfortable and quiet where we can think this thing through. You know our friend El General isn’t going anywhere… at least not for the moment. Besides, I need to give Izzy a call. She’s probably going loco with worry, and I could use a beer.”