Fractured State: Rogue State Part 13

By the time Nathan faced forward again, Alpha and then Bravo had entered the tunnel. He shuffled into place behind the second escort, placing his hand on the man's shoulder. He felt a slight tug on his own backpack. With the chain complete, he moved deeper into the tunnel, keeping pace with the two men a.s.signed to protect them.

Less than a minute later, they reached the end, where two armed sentries hid next to a short stairwell leading upward through the tunnel's ceiling. Alpha continued up the wooden stairs as the rest of the group huddled underneath him.

"Five seconds," said one of the sentries. "Four. Three. Two. One. Lights out."

Nathan watched Alpha put a shoulder into the rectangular metal door at the top of the stairs, swinging it out of the way on silent hinges and instantly aiming his rifle toward a figure on the roof of an adjacent low-rise building. The figure moved frantically, both hands raised to his head as he fumbled with the head strap of his night-vision goggles. A green laser from Alpha's rifle connected with the man's head, immediately followed by two suppressed cracks. The man dropped out of sight.

"Primary overwatch target down. Looking for secondaries," said Alpha, exiting the tunnel with Bravo close behind, the two of them leaving Nathan and his family hunched in place.

A few seconds later, they heard several snaps outside the tunnel entrance, each sounding no louder than a prematurely triggered, empty mousetrap.

"All clear," whispered a voice from above. "Let's go."

Nathan climbed the short, makes.h.i.+ft staircase with Owen and Keira close behind, climbing out of the cool tunnel into a blast furnace of desert air and a patch of dried-out scrub at the back of a rectangular lot. A shoulder-height, chipped stucco wall flanked the right side of the lot to the street, where a crooked chain-link fence extended across the face of the desert weedinfested lot to the corner of the bare, two-story building on their left. A small stain midway down the lip of this building's roof marked where the first cartel lookout had died. Nathan had no idea where the others Alpha and Bravo had taken down had fallen.

David moved past them, his rifle trained on the street beyond the chain-link fence. Nathan flipped his night-vision visor up for a second, curious to gauge the impact of the CLM-induced blackout. The sky beyond the building to their left glowed deep blue, casting a faint twilight hue over the lot. Dark enough.

"This way," whispered one of their escorts from darkness at the back of the lot.

Nathan lowered his visor and followed the men toward a human-size gap in the cinder-block wall spanning the rear of the lot. Automatic gunfire erupted in the distance, echoing off the buildings surrounding them. Nathan stopped and raised his rifle. Another burst of gunfire tore through the night.

"This is a bad idea," he muttered, rubbing the selector switch on his rifle with his thumb.

At the gap in the wall, Bravo glanced back over his shoulder. "This is completely normal for Mexicali. Nothing to worry about."

Nathan and Keira shared a blank look, then he took their son's hand and slipped with Keira through the gap into a long-neglected alley and turned east.

Two point one miles to go-through a city gone mad. Nothing to worry about at all.

CHAPTER 19.

David trailed Keira by several steps, already drenched in sweat in the stifling heat. His position in the back required him to scan the area behind the group for threats while keeping track of the formation's movement, a juggling act made all the more difficult by the Fishers' erratic progress. The frequent sound of distant gunfire stopped one of them nearly every time, once again halting the group's advance along the empty alley. He understood the family's hesitation and fear on a logical level, but it frustrated him nonetheless. After the first dozen harmless bursts of faraway automatic weapons fire, he had expected them to adjust to their environment.

A prolonged chain of deep thumps resounded through the alley, freezing all the Fishers in their tracks. David turned to face the rear, sweeping his rifle across the alley.

"What the h.e.l.l is that?" whispered Nathan.

David turned his head and put a gloved finger to his lips before leaning close to Keira. "Probably a 50-caliber machine gun," he whispered in her ear. "Nowhere close to us. Pa.s.s it on, quietly."

He resumed his vigil, silently watching the alley until he heard his group resume their advance behind him, their boots softly sc.r.a.ping the ground. He waited a few seconds and then started after them, walking backward and glancing back every so often to track the formation's progress. They proceeded at a fast walk for another minute, until Alpha raised a fist and took a knee, leaning against the graffiti-covered concrete wall that framed the left side of the alley. Bravo nestled in behind him, holding an open hand to the Fishers, who tucked themselves in against the wall a few paces back. David saw the wide boulevard ahead, representing their first pa.s.sive obstacle. A few moments later, Alpha signaled him forward.

"This is Calle Gaston Salazar," he whispered when David had taken a knee next to him. "Calle D, if you're keeping track of the grid. It's one of the busier roads up here during the day. Sounds and looks quiet now, but we're still going to cross in small groups. I'll go first, by myself, setting up at the corner of that garage. Bravo will bring the family across, with you holding down the fort on this side of the street. Anyone on the street not a.s.sociated with this group is a priority target. We can't risk detection. Good to go?"

"Good to go," said David, though he was a little surprised by the rules of engagement. Anyone on the street? A little extreme. He'd make that call on a case-by-case basis. He had no intention of shooting someone walking home with groceries.

Once the Fishers had been briefed by Bravo, Alpha edged forward along the wall until he reached a twisted, wrought-iron fence extending to the sidewalk. Beyond a few scattered, very distant gunshots, the street was deathly still. Either n.o.body dared to venture onto the streets at night in a blackout, or the night was just getting started. Either way, he liked what he heard. They had a thirty- to forty-minute transit ahead of them. Quiet was good.

David settled into position behind the Fishers and trained his weapon back down the alley. Alpha had crossed the street by the time he looked over his shoulder to check. The operative crouched next to the one-story garage, swept his rifle in a slow arc from left to right, then summoned Bravo with a hand signal. Bravo led the Fishers in a dead sprint across the street and past the concealed operative, continuing deep into the alley, where they huddled in a shallow doorway.

David kept his eyes on Alpha, waiting for his turn to cross. A nod from Alpha launched him forward. He was racing across the street when a voice yelled something in Spanish, causing him to slow and level his rifle. A car door had opened to David's right and deposited a scraggly, bald male on the street. David placed the rifle sight's green circular reticle in the center of the man's head, applying pressure to the trigger. Anyone on the street.

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Que pasa, amigo?" yelled the man, holding his hands above his head. "Ests perdido?" He had no idea what the guy was saying, but he appeared to pose no threat to the group. The man's head snapped back, a sharp crack reaching David's ear before the body collapsed to the street.

"Get out of the f.u.c.king street," hissed Alpha.

David cleared the road and joined the Fishers in the doorway. Alpha slid next to him a second later.

"The cartel has people everywhere-standing on rooftops, hanging out on porches, hiding in bushes . . . sitting in f.u.c.king cars. They get paid if they report something useful to the cartels."

"What kind of idiot lookout exposes himself like that?"

"It's a risk we can't take. That's why we shoot anyone on the street that might be in a position to see us. I thought I was pretty clear on that point. This is too important to take a chance."

David had no intention of burning a kid taking out the trash-or letting one of these f.u.c.kers do it. This wasn't how Marines operated.

Alpha patted him on the shoulder. "Hey. Don't get wrapped over this. Shaved head. Tattoos on his neck. The guy was cartel, or a cartel wannabe. We don't discriminate. Trust me, that's all you're gonna see out here."

"And if I see something else?"

"Then look the other way. Unless I see a grandma in a wheelchair or a kid riding a tricycle, I'm not taking any chances."

"We're burning through our blackout window," whispered Bravo.

"Copy that," said Alpha, standing up. "You good?"

"Good as I'll get," said David, glancing toward the street. "So we just leave him there?"

"n.o.body gives a s.h.i.+t about a lone lookout going down. If they find more than one-that's a different story. But you'll be long gone before anyone connects those dots," he said. "Same formation. Let's go." Alpha and Bravo started down the next alley.

"What was that all about?" Nathan asked David, stopping after he'd led his family out of the recessed doorway and into the alley.

"They popped a cartel lookout down the road."

"It sounded like you two were arguing."

"Come on," David said. "Down the alley." When Nathan had slipped past him, David checked Calle Gaston Salazar one more time. Nothing but a dead man in the street.

Nathan was waiting for him in the alley. "What were you arguing about?"

"The guy they shot was unarmed," David said. "Kind of goes against everything I've ever stood for as a Marine. But I don't doubt they're right. I need to recalibrate fast, or I'm going to get us killed. The guys after us won't think twice about drilling us through the forehead."

"Hey. Your instincts got us this far. If you think something's wrong with these guys, we're with you one hundred percent-no matter what you choose to do."

"I think we're where we need to be," said David, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks for that. Now we better get moving," he said, nudging Nathan toward the others, who'd just slipped out of sight around a bend in the alley.

Following Nathan, David mentally reviewed their progress. Thirty-minute walk? Not likely. They'd be lucky to get to their vehicle within an hour at this rate. They had to cross three more streets before turning south on Calle H, and that's where the real fun started. He'd counted at least fifteen cross streets standing in their way, at least three of them major east-west thoroughfares. A glance at his watch showed they had about fifteen minutes until Jose's people restored the electrical grid. Odds were good that they'd have to cross at least one of those bigger roads with the lights on.

CHAPTER 20.

Nathan raised his night-vision visor to wipe a thick sheen of sweat off his face, frightened to discover that he didn't need the light-enhancing device to see the road ahead of them. They were about to cross the busiest street on their transit, and the whole road glowed orange! How long had they been walking the streets exposed? He glanced over his shoulder, calming down slightly. The portion of Calle H they had just left behind remained dark, only scattered lights poking through the haphazardly boarded windows of the homes lining the street.

Still, the fact that they had approached an illuminated intersection unaware cast serious doubt on their escorts' capabilities. He tapped Bravo on the shoulder, interrupting a hushed conversation with the other operator.

Bravo turned his head and whispered, "What's up?"

"The lights are back on."

They were huddled between a rusted, flat-tired sedan and the crumbled sidewalk on the left side of the road. A tall, pockmarked stucco wall stood flush with the walk. Several feet behind them, a st.u.r.dy metal gate sat in the middle of the wall, guarded diligently by David. An unlit Pemex gas station canopy loomed over their corner of the intersection, visible through the palms lining the southern edge of the house.

"They've been on for three minutes," said Bravo.

"Aren't we a little close to the road given the light situation?"

Bravo s.h.i.+fted to face him. "Lower your visor and check the ambient light reading in the top right corner. Should read close to AL12. Your night-vision device measures the available light and displays it as a percentage compared to normal daylight conditions. Under twenty percent is considered dusk-difficult to see without help. Under ten is as good as dark."

Nathan lowered his visor and found the reading-AL11. A second green symbol sat directly below it-DL42.

"What if it goes higher than twenty?"

"If it goes higher than twenty, we toggle between normal and night-vision mode to make a better a.s.sessment of our surroundings."

"How do you toggle?" said Nathan, feeling along the lip of his helmet for a b.u.t.ton.

"Raise your visor up and down," he said. "Low-tech."

"And how did you know the lights were on?"

"You like questions, don't you?"

"You guys won't always be around," said Nathan.

"Good point. Radio."

"And what if you didn't have the radio? We could be in the road before the ambient light reading raised an alarm."

"Do you see the second symbol, directly below ambient light?"

"Yeah. DL42."

"That's your distant light reading. It measures the brightest detected light levels in your visor's center reticle. DL42 means we will be plenty visible when we cross the road."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It's not. We're coming up with a game plan, which will likely involve running and shooting. I need to get back to that meeting," he said, turning to continue his whispered conversation with Alpha.

Keira pressed up close to him. "What's going on?"

"They're figuring out what to do about the well-lit road ahead."

"Shoot out the lights?"

"It's probably not that simple."

Alpha crawled on all fours around Bravo to a position next to Nathan and Keira, calling Owen and David into a huddle beside the car.

"We're going to shoot out the two closest lights during the next long burst of cartel gunfire, gauge the street for a response, then cross all at once. Dead sprint. You a strong runner, Owen?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Because we're not gonna stop at the other side. We have to keep running past the business on Avenida Zaragoza. You don't stop for any reason. Copy?"

"Copy," said Owen, looking up at Nathan.

"He's good," said Nathan, squeezing his shoulder.

"I'm not worried about Owen," said Alpha.

"We're good, too."

"All right. Bravo and I will take covering positions near the street. I'll take the Pemex station gas island. He'll hide behind the low wall on the corner across Calle H. We'll hit the lights from there and wait. When you see me signal, starting running down the middle of the street. We'll join you on the flanks as you pa.s.s. David leads the way and covers forward. Any questions?"

"Same ROE?" said David.

"We'll let you know when it changes," said Alpha. "Ready?"

They all nodded and muttered readiness. The two commandos moved to the front edge of the car and knelt, seemingly in no hurry to run across open ground to their positions. They appeared to be listening. Without warning, they burst forward, splitting apart. Alpha arrived at the gas station quicker than Nathan thought possible, crouching behind a thick concrete crash barrier forming a V shape at the edge of the intersection. The second commando slid into position on the ground behind the thigh-high brick wall across the street.

Nathan couldn't see the streetlights illuminating the intersection but guessed Bravo had sighted in on the light beyond the gas station, keeping the wall to his back for protection. When Alpha braced his rifle against the top of the barrier and aimed in Bravo's direction, Nathan knew he was right. Now it was just a matter of waiting for another drunk cartel jacka.s.s to fire his weapon in the air.

"Any time now," Nathan said over his shoulder, feeling his son press against him.

They didn't have to wait long. A brief torrent of gunfire ripped through the night-including two suppressed cracks from Alpha and Bravo's rifles. The symbols in Nathan's visor changed. AL4. DL13. Nearly pitch-dark by the car. Still a little light on the street, but safe to cross-according to Alpha. Then again, it had been dark when they shot the cartel lookout in the street a mile or so back. He kept focused on Alpha, waiting for the signal.

Nathan sensed the deep vibration before he heard it, the sensory impact triggering a memory of sitting in traffic. When the next thrum buzzed through him, he recognized the sound, taking a step backward into his son. One of those crazy ba.s.s systems idiots liked to crank in their cars.

"There's a car coming," he whispered, checking to see if David was watching the street behind them.