Before leaving the patio at the La Vela restaurant Ricardo texted NenaDLarado and got an almost immediate response, she sent two names and a phone number. ‘El Mamito’ and ‘Adal’ were the names, Ricardo called the number. Nena said she knew where those two were having a meeting, tomorrow night. They were going to be in La Escondida, which is a small community on the highway between Agualeguas and Sabinas Hidalgo, near Monterrey.
Agualeguas is located northeast of Monterrey, on the Monterrey-Ciudad Mier highway and approximately 50 miles from the Texas border. Both El Mamito and Adal would be there, along with their body guards. They would be staying at walled compound that included a main house, a couple of out buildings.
Going to the men’s room provided the time and privacy to put a call into Bob Ironside, up in Mission, Texas. After mentioning the two names, he inhaled and whistled.
“Those are two good sized fishes, Jack. Are you sure of the source?”
“I’m sure she’s legit, I’m not sure her intel is. Regardless, I plan on moving as if it is solid. Can you provide a bridge to the Feds for me on this?”
“For those two, you better believe it. I’ll call my Federal contact in DC, we’re going to bypass the locals. You do know the bounty for those two, together, is three million bucks, Jack.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound, Bob. I should be there, in Laredo, by noon. I’ll talk to you then.”
Returning to the table on the patio at the Camino Real Veracruz, it was easy to see that Ricardo was in a state of emotional turmoil.
“As much as I would like to participate in your schemes, Jack, it is impossible. I have responsibilities and duties. My goal is to illuminate the world; your proposal would require that the work be done in the shadows, that is a condition that I cannot accept. Don’t get me wrong, I hope and pray that you succeed, but I cannot be involved.”
With that he got up and left the table and the hotel, he didn’t bother to leave any cash on the table for his part of the tab.
Now that Ricardo was gone there was no difficulty in making a couple more calls from the patio, it was pleasant there, sitting in the comfortable embrace of a five star hotel, during the late evening. After having just enjoyed a good meal, taking the time to savor a snifter of Azteca del Oro brandy, well, it just made good sense.
The basic plan was to check out of the hotel at about 01:00hrs, then take the Skymaster and fly to the Del Norte airport in Monterey, landing there about dawn. That was where the meeting with Nena would take place, face to face, after which we’d see about putting some eyes on this compound. After that it would be back to Texas, where the whole team would meet up in Laredo by noon. There would be time for a face to face with Bob, where we’d set-up the particulars of how the delivery of El Mamito and Agal should go down, after we had snatched ‘em.
Nena was there at the airport when I landed, so we wasted no time, I arranged for tying down the Skymaster and we headed out of town on Highway 54, traveling northwest towards Ciudad Mier and the CBP border crossing at Roma, Texas. We had not been on the highway for more than fifteen minutes when Nena pull off onto a dirt road and we were traveling west. The country was hilly and broken by steep ravines, as we drew ever closer to the base of the Sierra Picachos. We drove past a couple of well kept rancheros, before driving by the target compound, it appeared to be on about two hectres, that’s just short of five acres, with a six foot wall around the perimeter of it. At the front gate, where the driveway intersected the dirt road we were driving on, the gates were shut.
We continued along the dirt road until we were well out of sight of any observers from the house and then we stopped. Nena explained that the house belonged to a cousin, but that the Zeta had come and thrown him and his family from the house. Telling him they needed it for a week, that there was a big meeting scheduled and his house was just the perfect place for it. He told the story to Nena, and she had worked a couple other sources to find out who would be there, at the meeting.
Out of the black duffle I took a tripod and video and telephoto package. The lens, from the optical division of Marshal Electronics, has a 140mm focal length with a F1.0 aperture lens. Together that combination produces super low light performance imagery in video cameras. This lens / camera combination provides performance closely approaching that of amplified light scope devices used by the military, but at a fraction of their cost. The camera is set-up to be remotely controlled and the feed can be transmitted onto the net through a wifi hotspot connection, Being this close to Highway 54, we were in a cell zone, and had a strong signal. I moved off into the hills behind the compound, trying to find a good observation point to set the camera system.
It took almost an hour to find and then move to the right spot. From here I’d be able to keep eyes not only the front gate, but both of the doors of the main house and the approaches from the rear.
I set the system up, visually checking the aim points and focus, and then connected the roll up solar panels that keep a trickle charge flowing into the batteries, extending their service life tremendously. Then scooting back from the line of sight to the compound I headed back to the car. Then sending a text message while I was moving to Billy Haught, complete with the GPS coordinates for the target compound. I wanted our ‘Eye in the Sky’ on its way; it was to be his first priority after he landed in Laredo.
During the drive back to the airport the need for operational security was discussed, the importance for Nena to be more than just Anonymous. I gave her a thousand dollars, to cover gas and such, telling her to keep a low profile, and that I would be in touch with her in a couple of days. I called Bob and he said the Feds wanted to meet at Putz’s Field, over on Abram’s Road. He said he’d have their contact person with him, on the ground.
Putz’s place is right on the border, it is a crop duster’s field, there are quite a few of them in that part of the country, on both sides of the border. The fellas were waiting at the northwest end of the air strip and I taxied right over to them. Bob was with a Suit, the man stood about five foot eleven in black leather shoes. He had a narrow black tie, knotted high and tight, white shirt and gray suit coat. His dark hair was combed and greased back, extenuating his high forehead, though it didn’t look like he was going bald. Bob introduced him as Tom Sunday, with the Bureau of Intelligence and Research (INR), the State Department in-house intel service.
Mr. Sunday wanted an after action briefing, before there was any action, seems he thought the Federals deserved to know the particulars of the operation, I demurred. My questions were basic and to the point, did he confirm the bounties, the answer was yes, and Bob had the documentation. I told Mr. Sunday that after we had snatched the targets he would have a sanitized mission brief dropped into any e-mail account of his choice. He would learn where to send the Mexican police to perform whatever cover operations were deemed required, at their end. If all went according to plan, El Mamito and Adal would be in our hands by dawn, tomorrow. The question of where he wanted to take delivery received a surprising answer.
“Bring ‘em right back here to Putz’s as soon as you can,” he said.
Bob, who was standing a bit behind Tom Sunday raised his eyebrows, incredulously.
As Bob walked with me to the plane, we had a private talk.
“You know better than to come back here, don’t you Jack?
“You better believe, Bob, this place could be hotter than Hell’s Half-acre after we snatch El Mamito. No, I’m not bringing him here after I have ‘em in hand. I’ll text you a rendezvous and rally point. We’ll arrange getting them to the Feds, after we have ‘em.
“You’re good to go then. Good luck, Jack.”
“You know, Bob, Luck is jut a matter of preparation, see you when we get back.”
We shook hands and I left Putz’s Field and flew to the Laredo and headed to the La Quinta. Billy was already there; he had rented a suite and was up in it, monitoring the flight of the surveillance drone that was on its way to orbit
the Zetas compound. He had flown in from the ranch in Greenback Valey, landing about the time I had left La Escondida. With him were two old friends of mine, ‘Rico’ Fandan and Bill Delwood, seeing the two of them again brought a smile to my face.
Rico stands about six foo two, a big man, but lean. His hair was about snow white, but for a tad of color that remained in his forelock. Rico was an experienced combatant, he and his partner, Bill Delwood, had been working the borderlands for most of their lives. I first met them on a hostage recovery mission we had all been hired for; it was the beginning of a long association.
Bill Delwood stood about the same height, but his hair still held its color, a dirty curly blonde. Delwood looked like he was an athlete, and he moved like a cat. BHe was probably the best explosive demolition man in the business, well except for me of course. The two of them were in the process of cleaning their personal weapons; both men prefer to carry shotguns rather than assault rifles or submachine guns. I share their sentiments, which may be why we all get along.
Delwood packed a Winchester Model 1901 lever-action shotgun, in 10 gauge. Five rounds in the tubular magazine, plus one in the chamber.
While my old buddy, Rico Foreman, he prefers the Winchester Model 1912 pump action shotgun, in 12 gauge. The 1912 was often called the "trench gun" by US troops who used it extensively in both World Wars. The military version was a short barreled weapon with a heat shield over the barrel and an adapter to mount a bayonet, The weapon has a magazine capacity of six rounds. The Winchester 1912 is unique amongst modern shotguns in that there is no trigger disconnect. If you keep the trigger pulled, the weapon will fire each time the pump action is cycled.
Billy had picked them up in El Paso, on his way here from the ranch in Greenback Valley. He had flown to Texas in my Cessna 180, it is the plane I was replacing with the new used Skymaster. The Cessna 180, called a Skywagon, is a single engine, high wing aircraft, mine is a 1968 model, the 180H. She’s got six seats and is powered by a 230 hp Continental O-470-L, oh yea, she’s a classic taildragger to boot.
A text came in from Jacob Shard, he was running a little behind schedule, but would be at the hotel by 16:00hrs. Bill and Rico were both pleased to learn that Jacob was riding with us on this mission. It was time to begin going over the operation order, Jacob would be able to go with the flow, after he got here, it was better not to wait.
“This is a basic snatch. We’ve got two targets in the same locale.
First target is Jesús Enrique Rejón Aguilar, known as ‘El Mamito’ or Z-7, he joined the Mexican Army in 1993 and by 1996 was assigned to Special Forces Airmobile Group (GAFE). In ‘97, he was reassigned to the Mexico’s Federal Attorney General's Office (PGR) in the cities of Reynosa and Miguel Alemán in Tamaulipas. He deserted the Army in February 1999 and by March had joined up with Arturo Guzmán Decena, and Lazcano part of the original group of soldiers that had founded Los Zetas as the armed wing of the Gulf Cartel.
The second target is Valdemar ‘El Adal’ Quintanilla Soriano, who is reported to be the Number Two operative at the national level of the economic-financial structure of Los Zetas; he is the accountant that coordinates the payments to authorities on the criminal organization's payroll.
We will enter Mexico in the two aircraft, the 180 and the 337. Eduardo Padellia is going to join us on the ground.”
Looking at Rico and Delwood,
“Both of you two know Eduardo pretty well, he will be at the landing strip, which is a stretch of well maintained dirt road about five kilometers southeast from the target. He is providing site security for the planes and two vehicles with drivers for the ground transportation.”
“You got Eduardo involved in this, that old goat keeper. You know I had my doubts about him, but he turned out to be as solid as they come. Good choice. How many men is he bringing?” this came from Delwood.
“Yeah, I trust Eduardo. We didn’t talk numbers, but two at the planes, two drivers, Eduardo himself ... I’d say four or five. Does it matter?”
“No, not really. They aren’t part of the entry operation, right?”
“No, Bill, that’s just us. We should have aerial observation at any time, and we have the live feed from the camera I set this morning. The assault team should enter the compound from the rear, either at that gate, or we go over the wall, depends on what we find on the ground. We sneak up to the rear entrance and set the breaching charges. We enter the building in two locations, with two man teams, Rico and you, me and Billy.
When we detonate the breach charges, Jacob will lob some 40mm high explosive grenades into the front of the compound, attempting to blow the gate and then he’ll drop another four or five rounds around the front of the house. We have the M-79 in the Skywagon, right Billy?”
“Confirmed, boss”
“We move through the building, clear it and capture the two targets. When we exfiltrate the site, Jacob will be in a sniper overwatch position to cover our withdrawal. We skedaddle back to the planes and fly to Falcon State Park, in Texas. After we have the targets in hand, I’ll contact Bob to set up the swap.”
“What’s the money look like, Jack?” this question was from Rico.
“The straight up reward, for the two of them, is three million bucks. Split into ten shares, the three of you and Jacob, each get a full share. Eduardo, he gets a full share, the girl that supplied the intel and the newspaper man, they’ll split a share. That’s, ahh, six shares, which leaves four shares for me. Any loot that we retrieve splits the same way.”
“I’m good to go, that seems straight” again, that was from Rico, Delwood was nodding. Young Billy Haught, he didn’t say a word.
Delwood was looking at the pictures of the targets, glancing at the compound’s image on computer screen, “Seems easy enough” he said, almost to himself.
“Yeah, all we gotta do is make ‘em think that we’re the Mexican Army” said my old friend Rico Foreman.
Jacob showed up just at 16:00hrs, he’s an interesting character study, to be sure. Jacob was a mix of African Black and American Indian bloodlines, both of his parents were, themselves, children of previous genetic mixing of American Indian and African Black parents.
Jacob is a bit taller than me, so that puts him at six feet, he probably weighs two hundred, maybe a little more, but there is little, let me rephrase, there is no body fat on his frame. Squat thrusts, sit-ups, push-ups, and jumping jacks, five hundred repetitions of each exercise, those form the basis of his daily callisthenic workout. Jacob is an excellent man tracker; he excels at both knife and stick fighting, is an excellent archer and can dot an eye at eight hundred yards with a rifle.
We all left for the airport together, there was no reason to be clandestine about leaving the La Quinta, and took two taxis over to the planes. Billy had arranged to get the Skywagon parked next to the Skymaster, so it was pretty easy to rearrange some of the equipmentl he had brought, and get stuff sorted out.
I would be carrying a Remington 870, pump action 12 gauge shot gun, with seven rounds in the magazine. On my left thigh was the always dependable Colt 1911, carried on my vest were two Tasers, each of us that were entering the house would have two. I had my other Colt in a shoulder holster, slung under my right arm.
Billy, fresh from Afghanistan, took a different approach from us older veterans. He didn’t carry a long gun, but three of the SIG Sauer P226 pistols. The P226 sets the new standard for combat handguns. I have to admit that the ergonomics and balance of the pistol make it easy to handle. Folks that carry ‘em, they will tell you that the longer barrel provides for better ballistic performance and greater accuracy. The P226 pistol is the current pistol issued to the U.S. Navy SEALs. During the breech he’d be carrying one in each hand and have one strapped on his right thigh.
Ballistic vests and web gear, each man provided his own. Everyone was given a radio and headset and there were four placed on the side for Eduardo and his team, one for each driver, the security team at the planes and one f
or Eduardo, if he was not driving one of the two vehicles.
Billy and Jacob left first, in the 180H, it’s only fifty miles to the landing strip, so they would be there in thirty minutes, it’ll take the Skymaster about twenty minutes. We’d been taking turns watching the surveillance coverage, and when those three SUVs had arrived in the hour before we went wheels up, Billy was sure he recognized ‘El Mamito’ getting out of the second vehicle. That was enough for me.
The shadows were getting long as we did the fly-by of the landing strip; Eduardo was there with two pickup trucks and four other men. I banked the Skymaster around and brought her down to earth, there was more than ample space to put the planes. It was just a few moments later that Billy touched down, right on time, and taxied over.
Eduardo had not changed much, he was still bald, but his remaining hair had gotten longer and his mustache had grown even more extreme. He was on the ball, his people all carried their own radios, he gave me one, while Billy handed out the radios we had brought for them. His men were carrying AK-47 variants, probably Norincos from China, but it didn’t really matter. Their weapons were all clean and looked functional, which did matter.