“How’s our Mexican thug taking that?”

  “Not well,” Dana listened for a moment. “Not well at all.” She held up a hand for silence. “That’s interesting,” she turned to Flame. “Blanco says the operation has to go off tomorrow—says he won’t be able to guarantee his border guard beyond then.”

  Karin leaned forward. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s bribed a border guard to let him through.” Flame answered.

  “Bribery is a way of life down here,” Dana put in. “Especially among police and public officials.”

  “Like Monasterio and that new hospital administrator—Dr. whatever his name was.”

  “Calvera.” Dana nodded. “Yes, like them.” She turned toward Flame. “What do we do?”

  “We stay on their trail.” Flame set his teeth. “And try to break up their plot before they get to the border.”

  “And if we fail?”

  “We can’t afford to fail.” He pressed down on the gas, watched the speedometer display inch upwards. 50…51…52…

  ***

  “Hey!” Karin yelled from the back seat—she’d pulled her own laptop from its bag and was doing some prep work for the article she planned to write once she finally got home. “Do you know how far it is to Ensenada?”

  “About fifteen hundred miles, I think.” Dana had the exact distance logged into her system somewhere but didn’t think the other girl really cared about accuracy. “Why?”

  “It’s going to take us what, twenty-two, twenty-three hours to make the drive?” She leaned forward, looked from Flame to Dana. “Why didn’t we fly?”

  “No way to take my gear,” Flame piped in. “No bribe is going to get anyone connected to an airline to take that stuff aboard!”

  “Besides,” Dana turned toward Karin. “There was nothing available that would have gotten us there in less than thirty-six hours.” She shrugged. “I looked.”

  “Okay, so we have to drive.” Karin nodded toward Flame. “Does that mean he has to be behind the wheel?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, is it smart to have him drive for a full day and then get into his commando suit and take on God knows how many bad guys?” She looked at Dana. “Does that sound smart to you?”

  “She’s right.” Dana nodded and glanced at the dashboard. “We’re going to need gas soon—when we stop to get it, you get into the back seat so you can get some sleep, Karin and I will drive the rest of the way.”

  “I’m okay,” Flame waved off the suggestion. “Really—I don’t need that much sleep.”

  “Flame,” Dana leaned toward him. “You’ve got to let us do this—it’s the only way we can contribute.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not as if you’re going to let me go with you into Blanco’s hideout, is it?”

  “Of course not,” Flame shook his head. “You don’t have the training or…”

  “I know how to drive a car,” Dana kept her voice soft and sure. “Let me do that much.”

  “Okay,” Flame realized that she was right—she was his partner and it was her right to demand a piece of the operation. “When I get gas…”

  The Charger was a thirsty machine. They stopped for gas less than an hour later and, after filling the tank, Flame took Karin’s spot in the back seat. It wasn’t long enough for his six foot four frame to stretch out, but he had long since learned how to curl into any space available.

  He was asleep before Dana rolled the Charger back onto the highway.

  The dream started almost instantaneously.

  ***

  Damn. Flame looked around at the darkness of the now far-too-familiar room with the even more familiar door in front of him and to his right. Why do I always end up here? He pulled down his night vision goggles and switched them on.

  The world turned green and yellow.

  Okay, he looked around. Who’s going to visit tonight…

  “Hey, babe!”

  Flame whirled to find Mo a few feet behind him, smiling broadly.

  “Had to get two girls to take my place, eh?”

  “Mo, I…”

  “Hey.” She stood up, her naked body glowing in the night vision system. “I know the blonde one is your new partner. The other though…” Mo smiled. “She can’t wait to jump your bones again!”

  The redhead moved closer, reaching out a hand and running it down Flame’s cheek. “Almost clean shaven,” she laughed. “Much better than that day in Bagram.”

  “Why do I keep dreaming about you and Re-Pete and Manny?” Flame reached out, put a longing hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Why can’t I just sleep through the night?”

  “I don’t know why you keep dreaming about us, babe,” she shrugged, the movement doing interesting things to her breasts. “You’ve got to answer that yourself.” She tapped the scar on his forehead. “You know that it’s all coming from in there.”

  “Besides,” she took a step closer and planted a gentle kiss on Flame’s mouth. “Do you really want to lose me forever?”

  “I…” Flame reached out, tried to embrace the girl before him.

  “You have a job to do,” she slipped away, took a long step toward the door into darkness. “Maybe when you’ve finished…”

  “Mo, please!”

  “Later, babe.” She smiled at him. “I’m always here.” She took another step, opened the door, turned to step through…

  And paused.

  “Manny says to remember everything Chilli taught you about declination.” She shrugged. “Whatever that means.”

  She smiled one more time—and stepped through the door.

  Flame snapped awake—to find himself still in the Charger, still speeding through the Mexican countryside.

  ***

  “Dream again?” Dana was looking down on him from the front seat.

  “Not so bad this time.” Flame clambered around until he was sitting upright. “What time is it?” He looked outside. “Where are we?”

  “It’s nearly five p.m. and we’re about sixty miles from Ensenada.” She held up a hand. “Mapache got there nearly an hour ago—I’ve got a good fix on his location.”

  “Good.”

  “Karin can really drive,” Dana smiled. “Way better than me.”

  “Autobahn teaches you a lot.” She took a quick look back at Flame. “Hungry?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly aware of the empty feeling in his middle. “Got something?”

  “We picked up some food when we last stopped for gas.” Dana handed him a large foil-wrapped package. “The two of us assumed you’d want something.”

  Flame began to unwrap the parcel. “What is it?”

  “It’s supposed to be a beef and cheese burrito.” Dana shrugged. “At least that’s what the grandmother running the snack bar said it was.”

  “Tastes like chicken,” Flame muttered around a mouthful. “Which, in my case, could mean almost anything.”

  “I have a beer for you as well,” Dana held it up. “Dos Equis do?”

  “Fine,” Flame took another bite. “Anything new from the target?”

  “He made a call to Blanco just before he arrived—he was told to go directly to the barn—I took a fix on where it was.”

  “Good,” he gulped down the rest of the food. “Now pull up a Google Earth image and find me a way to get in without being seen.”

  “Already done,” she keyed up the image, showed him the path she had traced through it. “It’s about a mile in from this secondary road.”

  “Looks perfect.” He stretched. “Now if Sabine Schmitz up there can just get us where we’re going…”

  “You know racing?” Karin glanced back at him. “Formula One?”

  “Like Top Gear,” Flame grinned. “Chilli and I are both fans.”

  “Automobile porn,” Karin snorted and slowed down as Dana gestured to a side road. “You should watch the real thing.”

  “Maybe you’ll introduce me to the sport.” Flame stretched and finished his beer. “After this is all over.”

  “It is a promise!” Karin made another turn—this time onto a dirt road. “And one you had better come back to keep!”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Flame was suiting up. First came his Dragon Skin body armor, then a combat harness with extra ammo, grenades and his fighting knife. His Browning 9mm went into a cross-draw holster and a sawed-off Mossberg 500 8 Shot complete with an Insight Tactical Light slung over his shoulder. Finally, he hung a modified AR-15 from a Giles sling across his chest.

  “Should be dark by the time I get there,” he took the cased night vision goggles Bremby had sent and hung them over his shoulder. “Nice to have these.”

  “Be careful.” Dana kept her face calm but Flame could see that her hands were shaking again. “Don’t make me come after you.”

  “Monitor my radio,” Flame tapped the earbug to make sure it was live. “And be ready to bug out if this goes shitside up.”

  “Formula One.” Karin gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Remember your promise.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he settled his gear and headed for the tree line. “See you both soon.”

  The girls watched as he moved into the woods—and disappeared from sight.

  ***

  Flame took his time approaching Blanco’s farm. He knew that the attack was planned for sometime tomorrow which meant (he hoped) that he had all night tonight to do whatever had to be done.

  I wish I had someone to cover my ass, he thought as he moved along. I feel kind of naked.

  He shook the thought away and concentrated on moving through the light underbrush as quietly as possible, finally emerging, just before sundown, on a little rise that overlooked what had to be the farm he’d come looking for.

  Nice, he thought. Cattle, horses. He looked at the large ranch-style house set to one side. All the comforts. He brought his rifle up, peered through theBushnell's AR 1-4x24mm sight that Bremby had mounted. No movement, he swept the reticle over the area. No sign of anyone at all. He turned the rifle toward the barn. They must all be in there. He sighed. No way to tell how many there are…

  He settled in to wait for full darkness, double-tapping his earbud to let Dana know that he had reached the target area.

  ***

  “He’s there,” Dana nodded at Karin as the two huddled in the car, eyes on the laptop. “He’ll wait until it’s dark to do anything else.”

  “And there’s no way we can help him?”

  “We’d just get in the way.” Dana put a hand on the other girl’s shoulder. “Don’t worry—this is what he does, what he’s been trained to do. He’ll be all right.”

  “I hope you are right.” Karin picked up a bottle of water and twisted off the cap…

  ***

  A mile away, Flame drained one of the water bottles he had brought along. It never hurt to keep hydrated, he knew, especially when it was nearly time to kick off a mission.

  He eyed the sun, which was almost below the horizon. No street lights anywhere around here, he looked around the farm. No apparent lighting down there either, he nodded. Gonna be really dark in about twenty minutes. He checked his weapons and pulled out the night vision goggles. And SEALs own the night.

  He smiled and settled the goggles in place.

  ***

  Inside the barn, Mapache’s men had almost finished transferring the Cobalt-60 they had just hauled across the country into the larger casing holding the quantity they had acquired earlier.

  It was a dangerous process, and one the men took great care with.

  “Are they done yet?” Matias Blanco stood far to one side, supervising from afar. “We must be ready to leave by first light!”

  “They are almost done,” Mapache made a dismissive gesture. “All will be ready.”

  “And you are sure that you covered your tracks in Monterrey?”

  “The hospital administrator is the only one who truly knew what we were doing.” Mapache grinned. “He can tell no one—at least not in this world.”

  “What about the police captain?”

  “He was helpful in telling us about the German reporter—I do not think he will talk to anyone.”

  “What of the German reporter?”

  “She seems to be gone.” Mapache said. “She left the hotel in Monterrey a few hours after we did and hasn’t been seen since.” He shrugged. “Perhaps she returned to the United States.” He smiled. “If she brings her story to the State Department I am sure they will do everything in their power to help her, is that not so?”

  Blanco barked a laugh, then turned as one of the men working behind him called out. “What is it, Grigorio?”

  “The last of the material is in place, jefe.” The man wiped sweat from his brow. “The truck is ready to go.”

  “That is good.” Blanco smiled. “We will leave just after midnight and cross the border early, before things get too crowded.”

  “Indeed,” Mapache leaned forward. “Now, as to our pay…”

  “Of course.” Blanco clapped the bigger man on the back. “Let me return to the house and I will get all that you have been promised.” He smiled. “Just give me a moment…”

  As he turned toward the door, the lights suddenly cut off.

  ***

  Flame clicked on the night vision goggles and slipped through the barn door, scanning the floor before him for targets. He soon found there were ten… No, eleven—men in the room. Two had already pulled weapons from shoulder or belt holsters.

  He would handle them first.

  He let his reticle settle on the closer of the two—the one with what appeared to be a MAC-10. His finger touched the trigger, slowly squeezed…

  CH-CLACK! The silencer swallowed most of the sound leaving only the metal-on-metal noise of the slide moving back as the round left the barrel then forward as it seated a new round in the chamber. Flame watched his target fall to the ground as he changed positions and searched for the other gunman. There!He raised the rifle, let the reticle touch the man’s head and…

  CH-CLACK! The second gunman fell. The others were in near-panic now, scrambling around the barn floor looking for cover of some kind.

  Flame picked out a third man, put a round into his knee. That should confuse the issue, he thought as the man began to scream and beg for help.Now if I could just find Blanco and Mapache…

  A pistol began to fire from his left rear—it wasn’t aimed fire, just a panicked man shooting in hopes of hitting something—anything.

  It didn’t work.

  CH-CLACK! The third gunman fell, his weapon clattering across the floor. Flame moved toward the hayloft—if he could get up high, he might be able to find his primary targets. He let his rifle fall to the end of its sling, and reached for the ladder…

  Something struck him across the back, the impact driving him forward, into the ladder. What the hell? Flame whirled to one side, right hand clutching at the grip of the AR-15…

  A giant of a man stood some five feet in front of him, holding what appeared to be a two-by-four, which he was swinging wildly from side to side. As Flame watched, the end of the wooden staff struck one of the milling men, knocking him to the floor.

  I don’t have time for this! Flame raised his rifle, centered it on the man’s chest, and…

  CH-CLACK! CH-CLACK! CH-CLACK! The man dropped to the floor, the wooden beam bouncing to one side. Flame returned to the ladder, climbed quietly upwards…

  He was almost to the top when he heard the roar of a Diesel Engine. He rolled onto the loft, and brought the rifle to bear just as the truck the men had been working on accelerated forward and smashed through the barn door.

  Shit! Flame tapped the earbud. “Dana! The truck just pulled out—dark colored, California plates. BB something. Mapache and Blanco are inside—see if you have any kind of fix on it.” Flame ducked as bullets whizzed by—aimed at the sound of his voice. He rolled to his left, found one of the gunman, aimed…

  CH-CLACK!

  He moved again, found another target: CH-CLACK!

  There were only three moving figures below. One was the man who Flame had wounded in the knee—he ignored that one. A second was hastening toward the broken door. Flame let his sights settle on that one, squeezed the trigger.

  CH-CLACK!

  The last man fell to his knees in the middle of the floor, begging the virgin for mercy.

  She didn’t answer.

  CH-CLACK! Flame ejected the magazine in his rifle even though he knew it had twenty or so rounds left. He replaced it with a full magazine and slid down the ladder, taking a few minutes to search the barn. There was nobody left save the now-unconscious individual with the smashed knee. Flame left him where he lay and double-timed out of the place, anxious to get back to Dana and the Charger.

  He had to catch the truck before it reached its target.

  -29-

  “¡Caray al diablo!—God damn it to hell, who was that?” Mapache was at the wheel of the truck desperately steering between trees as he tried to get to the dirt track that he knew led back to the main road.

  “That German bitch must have followed you.” Blanco was equally desperate to get his seat belt buckled before his head went through the windshield. “Maybe she had someone with her.”

  “Who? SEAL Team Six?” Mapache manhandled the truck onto the dirt road. “Those were eight of my best men back there!”

  “Forget them,” Blanco had regained control of himself now that the tide had smoothed out. “We still have a job to do,” he glanced at his companion. “I will double your fee if you get the truck to the target.”

  “Triple,” Mapache gave him a cold stare.