Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (23 page)

“Is it because
you know they butchered one of your friends?” Rule asked.

“Sir, listen,
please.”

“Answer my
question and then I’ll listen to yours.”

“This group isn’t
a one-gun show, Mr. Rule,” the pilot pointed out. “They
all
, mind you
all
,
have top-of-the-line weapons. They’re equipped with night-vision too. All of
them. To tip the tables even more, they could pass for Arabs. I just shined a
one million candlelight searchlight on them and I got a real good look at their
faces. They definitely could pass for Arabs.”

The entire room’s
occupants were listening and stared up at Rule.

“Recognize any
of them?” Rule demanded to know.

“Mr. Rule, with
all due respect, I don’t work for the CIA. I don’t know the faces of terrorists.
But I know someone who could help us out.”

Rule looked
skyward and questioned, “Chief of the Border Patrol Austin Davis?”

“None other.
Sir, I know you don’t like making a whale out of a minnow but this could be
serious. Please, you owe it to Monroe and all the people who could die at the
hands of these men.”

“Monroe – the
kid who got shot up?” Rule checked.

“That’s him. Oh,
by the way, one of the two agents got a terrorist.”

“Shot or
killed?”

“Shot,” the
pilot said. “Leg wound. Looked pretty bad. The guy’s probably gonna bleed to
death soon if they don’t get him to a hospital somewhere.”

“You really
think they’d try that?” Rule asked sarcastically.

“Of course not.
Those terrorists don’t have any concern for each other. At least not at the
expense of risking themselves.”

“All right, I’ll
report to Davis. Any special requests for what I say to him?”

“No, so long as
he gets the full picture.”

“He’ll get it,
and he won’t want to hang it on his wall, believe me.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Keep those
terrorists pinned in that jungle,” Rule finalized. “Don’t let them out for
anything. Notify me if you see them. I’m getting agents on the ground as we
speak, and another chopper in the air. Keep me posted.”

“Got it,” the
pilot declared. “Stand by, we’re going in.”

Rule dropped the
radio and looked at Tee who was picking his fingernails. “
Will you cut that
out,
” he ordered. “That’s a dirty habit and besides that you’d better be
watching this radio like a hawk. Anything comes over it you let me know.
Understand?”

Tee was rattled
by the sudden admonishment. “Uh, yes sir. I will.”

“Sir,” the
female agent butted in, “Santa Teresa has agents on the move. Chopper’s inbound
too. Should be there any moment.”

“Good,” Rule
accepted. The agent turned around and began to leave before Rule finished. “Oh,
what else do they have?”

The agent
thought for a moment and then explained, “They have two more choppers at their
fingertips, ready to go, and I think they said about five more vehicles. Why?”

Rule bit the
inside of his mouth. “Radio ST station and tell them to get them down there on
the double. Tell them to set up a perimeter around the entire neighborhood and
the overgrown part. Have them make contact with our chopper already on site and
he’ll tell them where to go.”

Without a word
the agent grabbed a radio and carried out the order.

Rule walked from
the ops center to his personal office and slumped into his swivel chair.
A
whale out of a minnow?
he thought.
How could that pilot think this
situation could be a minnow when it’s already the size of Jonah’s monster fish?

Thursday, March 20
^th
– 0400 hours

El Paso Border Patrol Sector HQ

“This is Davis – go ahead,” the man answered after a few rings.

Rule was in his
office and he was about to brief the Chief of the Border Patrol on the
unfolding situation. He always hated doing this but it was his job and he had
to do it, like it or not.

“Uh, yes sir,”
he began as he tried to steady his quivering voice, “this is Chief Patrol Agent
Rule of the El Paso sector.”

“Well good
morning Arnold, how are you?”

“I’m fine, sir,
thank you. How are you?”

“I’ve been in my
office all night and I still am. No day that is that long is ever too good.
Now, is what you’re about to tell me going to be the cherry on the sundae?”

“Possibly, sir,
quite possibly.”

“Oh no,” Davis complained. “Well spit it out, Arnold.”

Rule took in a
deep breath and looked over his notes. “Sir,” he started, “at about 0130 this
morning, we received a report from the Santa Teresa Border Patrol station that
one of their agents had engaged a group of illegals crossing the border. The
agent was seriously wounded by a gunshot in the chest and a fellow agent rescued
him after the illegals had begun to escape.”

“Is the agent all
right?”

“Last I heard,
sir, the doctors are saying he’ll live but he might be in the Intensive Care
Unit for several months. Nothing’s for certain.”

“Go on.”

“Yes sir. Well,
we instantly put up a chopper to find and chase the illegals and that is why
I’m calling you.”

“Will you stop
beating around the bush, Rule? Spit it out.”

“The chopper eventually
found the illegals on the outskirts of a neighborhood called Santa Teresita
Acres located in Santa Teresa, New Mexico. We now believe they have reasons for
heading there. We think that they have some sort of sleeper agent or safe house
in the neighborhood.”

“What makes you
say that?” Davis wondered.

“There’s a lot
of open country between the border and where they’re at now. And with them
knowing a chopper was after them, I don’t think they’d risk going through all that
exposure without a really good reason.”

“Makes sense.
But how do you know they knew a chopper was indeed after them?”

Rule quickly
explained. “We aren’t positive, but unless they were blind, deaf, and just
downright stupid, I’d say they knew. You can’t hide a chopper when it has its
searchlight shining.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“So anyway, when
the chopper pilot found the men, he ordered them to disarm themselves and give
up, but was not heeded. The illegals escaped into some nearby heavy brush and
have been there ever since, as far as I know.”

“What are you
doing about it?”

Rule furiously
read his notes. “Well sir, I have sent in seven Patrol SUVs to secure a
perimeter around the neighborhood and now I have four choppers around the
thicket, looking for the illegals.”

“They can’t find
them?”

“No sir. The
brush is immensely thick I’m told. The illegals could sit still and my choppers
would never find them.”

“There must be
some way to get them out of there.”

“There is, sir –
putting agents in and having them flush them out. It’d be a blood bath though.
The illegals could wait for the agents, surround them, and take them by
surprise.”

“Is that the
only way?” Davis asked.

“I’d say so,
sir.”

“Do you have a
team that could perform that operation?”

“That’s part of
the reason why I called. I’d like to get your authorization to send in the BORTAC
team from Fort Bliss.”

Rule held his
breath. He knew that the Border Patrol Tactical Unit (BORTAC) was the best
special operations team in the entire Border Patrol. Since its beginning in
1984, its members had operated in twenty-eight countries around the globe,
serving in counterterrorism and counter-drug operations, high-risk warrant
service, dignitary protection, law enforcement, and almost anything else
imaginable. BORTAC’s members had to complete a difficult five-week basic
training course, which was considered one of the hardest training courses in
civilian law enforcement. Rule had been to their headquarters at Biggs Army
Airfield in Fort Bliss many times, and he was glad that they were always close
by.

“There isn’t any
other way to go?” Davis asked once more.

“None that I can
think of, other than burning the entire overgrowth, but that’d start a mega
fire and it wouldn’t end up so well.”

“So you need BORTAC
to flush those guys out, huh?”

“Yes sir. I am
somewhat hesitant to tell you this but the chopper pilot swears these guys are
more than illegals. He believes they’re...terrorists.”

“Why does he say
that?”

Rule stopped and
thought of the best way to approach this. “He said these guys are highly
equipped for a special operation and that they are heavily armed and very
skilled. He’s convinced that they are indeed terrorists.”

“And what do you
think?”

There it was – the
dreaded question.

“Uh, I was
actually the one who suggested them being terrorists,” Rule quietly admitted.
“They chewed up one of my agents pretty good, and from the reports of the agent
that rescued him, these guys are well-trained fighters.”

“Hmmm. All right
Arnold, you’ve got me wondering now. This could be something for the
Secretary of Homeland Security. Can you fill me in on all the details? I need
to know everything. From start to finish in complete detail.”

“Yes sir. I will,” Rule consented. “Believe me these guys need to be
taken out.”

*          *          *

“Smith,” the
National Security Advisor said as he answered his cell phone. He was in his
house asleep when the phone rudely awakened him. He was in no mood for any
surprise calls after staying up late last night.

“Is this National
Security Advisor Tom Smith?” Lincoln asked cautiously. He had just gotten off
the phone with Davis after a long briefing, and he had told him all about the
situation. Lincoln now felt a sense of urgency and he was taking no half measures.
That’s why he was on the phone with the NSA now, so he could tell him about the
crisis and lay this on
his
shoulders.

“It is. Who is
this?” Smith wondered.

“This is Jared,”
the Homeland Security Secretary said. “How are you doing this morning?”

Smith contemplated
his response. “Tired. This call isn’t helping the matter much so could you
please get to the point, Jared?”

“Yeah, of course.
I am afraid that the Chief of the Border Patrol has contacted me with some very
interesting news from his sector chief for El Paso, Texas. It appears that at
about 0130 hours the sector chief received information that a group of nine
illegals crossed the border into the U.S. and one of his agents from the Santa
Teresa station in New Mexico attempted to stop them. He was severely wounded in
the chest by a gunshot and was rescued by another agent who came for backup.”

“Did they get
the illegals?”

“I’m coming to
that, Tom,” Lincoln promised. “Well the station sent up a chopper to survey the
situation and find the illegals if possible. At about that time the sector
chief was notified. Command then shifted to him, and he ordered all
communication with the chopper to go directly through his ops center. Awhile
later, he was informed by the chopper pilot that the illegals were presumably
running for a nearby neighborhood. He immediately sent out agents and put up
three more choppers to secure the place.”

“And?” Smith
asked, wondering what all this had to do with him.

“That’s all fine
and dandy but there is more to the story. The chopper that was first sent up
actually found the illegals before the sector chief sent in the backup. He ordered
them to stop and disarm themselves but that warning was not heeded. They
escaped into a thicket near the neighborhood.”

“So?”

“The thicket is
rather ‘jungley’ and none of the choppers can find them. It’s just too thick of
cover.”

“What about ground
agents?”

“The sector
chief said that it’d be a massacre for his agents if he sent them in. The
illegals are too heavily armed and they could sit and wait for the agents, then
butcher them when they got close. He asked the Chief of the Patrol to give him
authorization to send in the BORTAC team from Fort Bliss.”

“Is this my
problem, Jared?” the National Security Advisor questioned with frustration.

“I’m not
finished yet. I have received confirmed information that these illegals are
actually terrorists who have jumped the border to get into the U.S.”

Smith was
instantly awake and interested. “What makes that info so confirmed?”

“The agent who rescued
the wounded one said the illegals were skilled fighters, heavily armed, and
very well equipped. The chopper pilot reported the same thing.”

“Okay, now I get
your point. The onsite Border Patrol agents are outgunned by the terrorists, so
this sector chief wants to send in a special ops team.”

“Yes. The
terrorists are pinned down but the agents at the site aren’t sure where to go
from there.”

“What’s the
possibility that they’ll escape?”

“The overgrown area
is so large that their escape is almost inevitable. Four choppers are flying
above it right now but I’m afraid it still won’t matter. The terrorists will
escape before too long. There’s too much ground and too little firepower to
keep them in one place. Our only hope is if a special ops team came in very
soon. The Border Patrol does have agents securing the ground around a
neighborhood where we believe the terrorists wanted to go. And of course they
have agents around the overgrown section too. But I don’t think that’ll help
much.”

“Why do you
believe that the terrorists wanted to go to this neighborhood?” Smith asked as
he stifled a yawn.

“Because the neighborhood
of Santa Teresita Drive is where they instantly headed after they crossed the
border,” Lincoln told him. “If they didn’t want to go there they wouldn’t have
crossed a lot of the open ground to get where they’re at now. They wouldn’t
have taken the risk of being spotted if they felt they didn’t
need
to
get to Teresita.”

“Does the Patrol
have enough manpower to take them out if they try and go to the residential
area?”

“That’s a big
if
,”
Lincoln addressed. “But to answer your question, the terrorists know we are
on to what they want to do and I’m not so sure they’re going to play right into
our hand. They wanted to go into Teresita but I’m not so sure they’ll do it now
that we know about it. Then again, they might just do the unexpected and try
and keep us off guard. But I believe that should the terrorists do so, the
agents would have more of a fighting chance out in the open than in that
jungle.”

“So you’re
fairly confident that the terrorists couldn’t get into that neighborhood if
they tried?” the National Security Advisor asked.

“If they had a
good enough plan and enough nighttime hours they might be able to pull it off
right under the Patrol’s noses.”

“And why again
do you think they want to get into the neighborhood? I mean, how big is it? Do
they want to attack it?”

The Secretary
cleared his throat. “It’s not a big place. About eighty acres I’m told. I don’t
believe they’d attack there when they have El Paso across the street. We think
they need to meet someone that’s in the neighborhood. Whether to pick up
supplies or be hidden in a safe house, we don’t know. Frankly, we don’t care.
We just know they wanted to get there and we’re trying to stop them.”

The NSA sighed. “So
you’re telling me that you
think
the agents can keep them from getting
to their sleeper agent in the neighborhood. However, they can’t keep them in
the overgrown stuff, and you doubt the agents’ ability to take them out if they
run for it.”

Lincoln blew his nose loudly and answered in a soft voice, “That’s the extent of it. The
onsite Patrol agents might be able to take them out if they try and get into
Teresita, but if they run, there’s most likely going to be nine deadly
terrorists on the loose.”

“All right. I
appreciate the notification, Mr. Lincoln, and I’ll see what I can do. Keep me
posted.”

“Roger that.
Talk to you later. Bye.”

Smith snapped
his phone shut, dashed to his room, and jumped into a suit. He gently woke his
wife and told her he had to go into the office. She wasn’t thrilled but she was
in no position to argue.

Seconds later,
he pocketed his keys, combed his hair, and kissed his wife goodbye, then headed
out the door.

The terrorists
were on the move again and he had to inform the President, fast.