Chapter 9
Sunset was at 8:26 pm and the four men were standing around the trunk of Cliff’s car. Cliff had two small packages, one that needed to be put in an abandoned building on the opposite side of the warehouse, and one on the stern of Lorenzo’s yacht.
Cliff nodded to the small packages. “I can be in and out fairly quick. I’ve already memorized the satellite images and walked around the marina to see where everything is.”
Rob said, “Cliff, what’s in the packages? And where’d ya get it”
“Second question first, Rob old buddy. Did you forget I work at dropping buildings to the ground? There’s always a bit of explosives left over, and, well you can figure it out. Now for the toys, the first is just a couple of sticks of dynamite for the building. I’ll put it in an open area inside. The building is empty and two stories high, so we’ll get mostly noise and smoke, without much damage. The second is just a quarter pound of Semtex, which is plastic and waterproof, so I’ll put that one on the stern yacht. It will make a lot of noise, scare the shit out of anyone on board, but I’ll put it where no one will get hurt and the boat shouldn’t sink – unless you’d like 51omething’ else, Cap’n?”
“Naw, that sounds perfect,” said McKenzie.
“By the way, I am gonna detonate both toys using burner phones. It’s easy to do as long as you never use the phones prior to the bang. Don’t want anyone accidentally calling you back at the wrong time. The dynamite charge is straightforward. I call the number, the ringer wire is connected to a blasting cap inserted in the dynamite and Boom.”
“The Semtex is a bit more elaborate since I have to swim out to the yacht which is kinda hard on cell phones that have been opened up. So, the detonation will start under the dock where the phone will be, the blasting cap will set off a length of det cord to carry the initial explosion underwater to the Semtex. That part is all waterproof. The det cord will have a bouble knot at the end and the Semtex will be molded around it and attached to the boat by just mashing it into a hole or crevice. I can get that installed in just a few minutes in the water.”
Chuck had his sniper rifle set to go. His Barrett was a .50 cal and would not be a quiet shot, even with the suppressor.
Chuck said, “I’ll be on a this other warehouse roof about 500 yards away, far enough that locating the sound would be difficult and each bullet will arrive in advance of the sound. And, the suppressor will greatly reduce the muzzle flash from the bullet, which will be traveling at 2055 feet per second at 500 yards, and the speed of sound is 1100 fps, so the bullet will arrive in 0.73 seconds and the sound in 1.36 seconds. That’ll confuse them a lot. They won’t know where the rounds are coming from.”
“Hey, Rob,” said Chuck, “you did tell you buddies in blue that there was a very strong 51omething51 of several goons moving on from this world, didn’t you? I sure don’t want them or the feebs coming after me.”
Rob assured everyone that Marshall and his Captain would cover their butts. Those .50 cal slugs will never be recovered by forensics and any cartel casualties will be due to blue bullets.
McKenzie wanted to protest, he never wanted his guys in harm’s way if he could help it, but he knew Rob was right. John would be helping McKenzie, hiding outside the rear door of the warehouse to help guide the kids. They all had their various weapons of choice as well as backup pieces. Mac nodded as Cliff grabbed the charges and put them in a duffel bag.
Chuck and Cliff both snapped a quick salute to McKenzie before dashing off into the dark.
Cliff moved off in the growing dark to a convenient ladder that led down to the water from a nearby dock. Soon he was swimming with his Semtex charge to the yacht. He was back in about 15 minutes and began moving to the abandoned warehouse adjacent to the one with the children in it. He was in and out of there in 2 minutes, moving to a safe area to start the show.
Everyone had put their earbuds in place and McKenzie tested the frequency. Each team member checked in clearly.
“Alright you Old Farts, this is it. John and I will get around to the door on the back end of the side opposite the water. John will duck down there as I come up to the side door. When I signal, Cliff will set off the charge inside the building on the far side. This is gonna have them grabbin’ guns. Lorenzo’s men will probably pull him to the back of the warehouse, presumably with the kids. The next charge will be at the yacht. At this point, they will probably try to evacuate Lorenzo toward the road, where there are already two SUVs waiting for whatever purpose. I will grab the kids and try to get them to John and out the back end of the place, towards Rob and the van he brought. As soon as the kids are clear, I make the call and the police and feds will swoop in and we need to be gone. Chuck will take what shots he needs to help keep the outside clear and to prevent me and John from being ambushed. Cliff, be ready to set off the each charge on my command. Let’s do this, guys.”
Nods and pats on the back all around as they headed to their respective points. John kept his hand on the butt of his gun, his eyes alert as he and McKenzie made it to the rear of the building. One guard was standing at the side they needed to get to, and in order to go around, they would risk being spotted by the vehicles parked on the side. McKenzie signaled John to hold up as he watched the man pacing, a lit cigarette dangling between two fingers, his other hand holding his iPhone. McKenzie stepped up behind the man, throwing his arm around the guy’s neck and pulling him back into a choke hold.
McKenzie breathed evenly as he waited for the man, almost as tall as him but not nearly as built, to stop struggling. After about 12 seconds, the man finally went limp. McKenzie kept the pressure on for another minute and then dropped the man to the ground. After he checked the carotid artery for the non-existent pulse, John hurried over to help drag the man to the pile of pallets against the warehouse. Once the guy was disposed of, McKenzie grabbed the handle and turned. It wasn’t locked, as Marissa promised. He eased opened the door and pointed to a spot inside and in front of more pallets, for John to duck down into. A small shed blocked the vehicles from their view, but also shielded them from the view of the men waiting.
Slipping inside, he saw that Marissa, although vague, had given an accurate layout of the warehouse. Rows of boat parts and junk on floor to ceiling shelves ran from the back wall to halfway up the building, each opening up to the empty second floor beyond, but kept in the dark when only the front lights were on. In the middle of the rows, on the back wall, was a small office. Marissa said it had an air conditioner and mini fridge and was the probable location of Lorenzo.
With thirty minutes remaining until the scheduled meeting between Marissa and Lorenzo. McKenzie slid along the back wall, ducking to climb through the large shelves on the bottom of each row, to get to the office. Windows surrounded the exterior of the tiny area, and the lights were off. McKenzie frowned as he looked down the row at the open area beyond. He saw three men standing around, but none of them looked like Lorenzo.
Staying in the shadows, McKenzie made his way up the row, ducking behind the random hull pieces and debris and freezing whenever the men angled even the slightest bit toward him. When he was close enough to look around, he put himself between two boxes on the bottom shelf of the row, still nearly three feet high, and looked around the warehouse. Lorenzo was not there. The men who were there were heavily armed. McKenzie sighed, and carefully made his way back to the rear door. As he climbed through the last bottom shelf, his back and knees already protesting at the crouching, he bumped a fiberglass panel. Grabbing it, he prevented the fall, but not the scraping that echoed through the room. Without a second thought, he scurried to the back door; exited and pushed it shut, realizing that he had made more racket as he left.
“Lorenzo and the kids aren’t in there, but the goons that are standing around know someone was,” McKenzie hurriedly whispered as he pulled John with him down behind the shed and then across back to where they had come in.
“What’s that mean, boss?” Cliff’s voice spoke in hi
s earpiece.
“Means they’re in the vehicles or on the boat.”
John shook his head, staring at the ground. McKenzie could relate. This entire case had been an act of frustration, and McKenzie was losing his patience.
“So what you wanna do, Cap’n?” Chuck murmured, “there’s some movement at the front. And those two vehicles are pulling around there; looks like the guys are getting in.”
“Where are they headed?” McKenzie peeked around the corner, able to see the taillights near the front of the warehouse.
“Toward the pier.”
“Alright, the boat then.” McKenzie looked around and motioned John to follow as they made their way around the small buildings, boats, and vehicles in the dry yard and toward the pier with the yacht. “Cliff?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“Get ready to set off the charge at the building, the distraction charge.”
John looked at McKenzie.
“That’s where we’re headed!”
McKenzie shook his head and motioned John forward.
“On my mark, Cliff.”
“Standing by.”
McKenzie sped up to nearly a run, John on his heels as they passed the little shed and headed toward a shack nearest to the pier.
“Now.”
The explosion sounded behind them, making McKenzie’s ears ring as he and John stumbled forward.
“Chuck, take out the tires on both SUVs.”
McKenzie got the acknowledgement followed by the double reports from the Barrett.
“Men exiting the vehicle, no signs of the suspect or the kids.”
McKenzie growled in frustration as he and John continued to make their way to the pier. As they approached the small building, the shadows of several men could already be seen coming out of the yacht. Two were running towards McKenzie and John, another was on guard at the yacht. On the yacht, a figure in a white suit pointed in several directions while yelling instructions to the men clambering about the upper deck.
“Lorenzo’s on the yacht. Kids probably are too.”
“Give me two minutes, I’ll reposition,” Chuck replied.
McKenzie and John ducked to the backside of the shed as the two men ran passed. They hugged the shadows, staying away from the cones of light given off by the overhead lamps.
“Cliff, what is the location and destruction level of the charge on the yacht?”
“Port side, aft quarter panel, three inches above the water line. Its in auxiliary bilge pump thru-hull fitting.” Chuck responded, slightly out of breath.
“Hull damage will be minor with some water take on, not enough to kill anyone outside of a two-foot radius of the charge. You did say toys with noise and skip the destruction.”
“I did. Blow it.”
McKenzie and John stood crouched as the Semtex blew, shoving the yacht against the pier and causing a fair amount of smoke. None of the bad guys seemed to have any clue what was going on.
“John, I’m going to get the kids down here, wait here and pull them out of the light and path, get them to the water over there, or even in one of the older looking boats.”
“In position.” Chuck’s words brought relief to McKenzie.
“Keep my way clear; take out Lorenzo if you have to. Try shooting arms and legs; keep the death count low if possible. John, call Detective Marshall, tell him Operation Wilhemina is a go NOW!” As he said it, the thought ran through his mind that cop ops were named almost, but not quite as ridiculous as military ops.
McKenzie forced himself not to flinch or duck as the loud shots echoed behind him, and in front, which helped confuse the hell out of the men on the pier. The men coming at him were collapsing, knees or thighs being blown out by the heavy bullets. A splashed accompanied their cries of agony as several lost their balance and fell off the dock. McKenzie was smiling, and he knew it was insane, but he couldn’t help but think how awesome it all was.
He slowed as he neared the end of the dock. The next two shots took out a guy next to Lorenzo and the man just past the Yacht. McKenzie slowed as his chest and legs were screaming in pain. His breath was labored and it was all royally pissing him off. He refused to be too old for this shit.
“Who da fuck are you?” The heavily accented voice broke through the cacophony.
“I’m a Vietnam Veteran and I’m taking you down, asshole.”
“What?” Lorenzo pointed a gun at McKenzie, his face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and concern. “What the hell is your problem, old man?”
“My sniper will kill you whether you kill me or not. My other guy has your yacht rigged to blow if you get more than three feet from the end of the dock, and I’m here to pick up the kids because their visitation time has come to a close and their mom kinda wants to know where the hell they are.”
“So I kill you, your man kills me, and my man kills the kids.” Lorenzo shrugged, keeping the gun trained on McKenzie.
“So you and I are dead, no matter what? I kinda like it. I mean, I don’t know you so I don’t give a shit what happens to you. And really, I hate to admit this, but I am getting old and…”
Lorenzo began to pull the trigger but before he could fire, his left thigh was ripped apart and he crashed to the deck.
McKenzie looked around and slowly walked up to the yacht. He still felt out of breath, and his legs were slightly jelly-like, but he couldn’t help but laugh as he stepped on the boarding steps. Nice little tub.
“Your guys a piss shot.” Lorenzo held up the gun, pointing it at McKenzie, the pain and blood loss already making him shaky.
“Not really,” McKenzie said as another shot hit the gun in Lorenzo’s hand, knocking it out as he quickly clutched his now three and a half fingered hand.
McKenzie stepped over him. “Move again and he has the go ahead for your head.”
As McKenzie’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting as he followed the steps down below decks, he saw the roped and gagged figures of Catelyn and Caleb Andrews on the floor at the foot of the bed. Water trickled from the far corner as a result of the Semtex.
“I’m McKenzie, a friend of your grandpa’s. You’re safe now.”
They watched him wearily as he moved forward and pulled out the gags before using his pocket knife to cut through the ropes.
“Grandpa told us about you.” The girl spoke softly, her voice ravaged from crying or thirst or both, “I didn’t know you were real.”
McKenzie had the boy undone first so he could help with his sister as McKenzie stepped up a few stairs to see Lorenzo still lying on the deck, bleeding and screaming in Spanish.
“Well, I am, and we have to go.” McKenzie turned to look at them, ragged and dirty, their eyes filled with hope, “Get above deck, run down the dock, and behind the shack at the end. My buddy, John is waiting and will take you to your grandpa. Two more guys are watching from above, one is a sniper. They will keep you covered. Got it?”
“A sniper? Holy shit!” Caleb’s grin faded when his sister elbowed him in the stomach.
“Okay then, go, and do not stop!”
The teens hurried up the companionway, hesitating when they saw Lorenzo laying there on deck. In the distance, sirens began to pierce the night. McKenzie stepped over Lorenzo and away from the bloodied hand trying to claw his pants leg. The kids were half way down the dock when McKenzie realized he was hearing gunfire, a lot of it. At the end of the pier, John rushed out, firing at someone in the distance before McKenzie heard the crack of Chuck’s rifle. John lowered his gun and grabbed the kids, rushing them toward the outer edge of the marina to the rendezvous point with Rob.
McKenzie began to pick up pace as he heard water sloshing under the pier, men fighting the pain and trying to get out. A shot ripped through the board behind him as he went into a full run, his body protesting. As he neared the end, one of the men that hadn’t been shot yet, raced towards him, gun raised and pointed at McKenzie. The loud noise of the rifle followed the shot through the side of
his neck. The man almost hit himself in the face with his own gun as he reached up to grab the wound. McKenzie shoved him out of the way as he ran.
“Fall back to Rob.”
“Copy that, boys in blue are on the ground.”
McKenzie nodded with relief as he slowed again, making his way through the shadows. Within moments, Chuck was beside him, his rifle over his shoulder. Cliff had waited for them just past the fence and walked with them to the van.
Rob turned to look at them, John narrowing his eyes when McKenzie sat clutching his chest.
“McKenzie, guys, I can never thank you or repay you and the team for this.” Rob’s voice nearly cracking.
“No problem, old man, family and blood and friends and stuff,” McKenzie muttered, scowling at the pain radiating through him.
“You’re not having a heart attack, are you?” said Catelyn as she watched him from the other side of her brother.
McKenzie gave her a droll look before Rob snickered and put the van in gear.