"I don't see any cameras," Munoz said.
"Neither do I," Jessica said.
"I think we should move down the fence until we can see the western side of the building. If it's clear, Melendez will provide cover while we move to the corner. Melendez follows when we reach the building. We'll then move along the exterior to the back," Daniel said.
He passed the plan over his radio to Fayed, while Melendez and Jessica cut the fence with powerful, short-handled tin snips. Once the fence was opened, Daniel slipped through and sprinted for the corner of the building, followed closely by Jessica and Munoz. Daniel moved a few feet down the western side of the building, keeping his rifle's red holographic sight trained along the structure. He heard Jessica and Munoz pile into position behind him, followed by Munoz's voice in his earpiece. Melendez joined them a few seconds later and moved swiftly in front of Daniel, continuing his job as the team's point man.
Melendez extended his arm and held an open palm to Daniel as they approached the northeast corner of the building. At the sight of Melendez's hand, the rest of them stopped and crouched. He watched the young sniper approach the corner carefully, removing his camouflage baseball cap before taking a quick look along the northern wall. By Daniel's rough estimation, the side they had just traversed matched the front of the building in terms of length. The only difference between the two sides had been the complete absence of any openings on the eastern facade. They had just slid silently along a blank cinder-block slate.
Daniel removed his own cap and tossed it to the ground, waiting for Melendez's assessment. Their point man backed up against the wall and crouched. He pointed to his own eyes with his index and middle fingers ("I see"), then held his hand up showing three fingers, keeping his ring finger down along with his thumb ("seven"). The next hand signal indicated they were "enemy," accomplished by a simple thumbs-down. Finally, he stretched his arm upward and formed a pistol shape with his index finger and thumb, representing "rifles." Seven men armed with rifles. Not something you'd expect to find in the middle of the Poconos on a Sunday afternoon. He recalled Melendez.
"What are they doing?" he whispered.
"Digging. I see several bodies nearby. All of the weapons were slung around their backs. I did see a few with just pistols. No body armor. Everyone's dressed casually."
Jessica leaned in to hear what they were saying, while Munoz kept his rifle pointed at the front corner.
"Who were they burying?" Jessica asked.
"I saw a few lab coats stained bright red. The others looked like the gunmen. Looks like a cleanup job," Melendez said.
"Yeah. Tying up more loose ends. I need to get a look at the situation," Daniel said.
Daniel switched places with Melendez and crawled to the corner, easing his head toward the edge. As his view expanded, the stretch of ground between the northern fence line and the rear of the building took on a disturbing familiarity to another time and place. A different life. Men smoking cigarettes, their instruments of murder tossed casually over their shoulders. Nervous laughter. Nobody quite sure who might end up in the ground. In that other time and place, men like these rarely did the digging. That was reserved for the desperate victims that had somehow convinced themselves they were digging a hole for someone else. He watched the men in front of him carefully.
Only five of the men sank shovels into the soft ground near the fence. The other two stood behind them, conversing and laughing. He counted five AR-15-type rifles equipped with optics slung over the diggers' backs. The two "supervisors" carried pistols in tactical thigh rigs. Melendez had missed the fact that one of them carried an MP9 submachine gun on his left side. Admittedly, it was hidden from view. Daniel burned the image in his mind and returned to their tight group pressed against the cinderblock.
"Burial party. The five men armed with rifles are occupied with digging. Unfortunately, they're more or less facing this direction. The other two have their backs turned. One with a pistol. The other with a pistol…and an MP9. You're slipping, Rico," he said, patting Melendez on the back.
"The usual plan?" Munoz whispered, never looking away from the far corner.
"In this case, I don't think we can afford to improvise," Daniel said.
"Do you mind sharing with the rest of us?" Jessica said.
"I forgot that you ditched most of these classes. We bag two of them. Highest ranking and lowest ranking. The rest are targeted for rapid termination. The leader knows the most, but is willing to say the least. The follower knows the least, but is willing to say the most. The two usually hate each other. We play them off each other," Daniel said.
"What if they all go for their guns?" Melendez said.
"Then we have ourselves a good old-fashioned shootout. Gunfight at the OK Corral," Daniel said.
"I'm your huckleberry," Munoz said.
"See? He does have a sense of humor, Rico," Jessica said.
"I never said you didn't have a sense of humor," Melendez insisted.
Munoz turned and grinned. "Let's just get this over with."
"Rico and Jessica shoot from the corner. You and I will sprint along the back wall, focused on the two men with pistols. We'll hit the guy with the MP9 and try to force the other guy to surrender. The two of you will tear into the digging crew. We'll be yelling for them to drop their weapons as we move. If you see hands raised skyward, keep them covered until we swing into place behind the group. Less than seventy-five feet to targets. Good to go?" Daniel said.
"Sounds easy enough. We'll pop two of them and see what happens," Melendez said, nodding at Jessica.
Daniel and Munoz stacked up on the corner. As soon as they disappeared, Jessica and Melendez would take their place and start to engage targets. He edged up to the corner and took a quick peek, exposing less than an inch of his head to allow his right eye to verify that the scene looked the same. Nothing had changed, so he nodded. Less than a second later, he felt a solid squeeze on his right shoulder, indicating that the team was ready. He checked the M4's safety one more time out of habit and spun around the corner, sprinting along the wall. He wanted to get as far as possible before anyone noticed.
Michael Brooks stood facing his security crew as they slid their shovels into the ground. He hadn't decided if they would be buried in the same holes. It really all depended on how much space remained in each hole when they finished piling the bodies into the ground. Brooks really didn't feel like digging. He had a busy day scheduled and didn't need the delay. Plus, they might come in handy at the distribution center. Anne Renee said they could use some more help, especially given the compressed timeline. He swatted at a fly that buzzed by his head. He really hoped this group would finish their work within the next few minutes. The flies were already swarming around the pile of bodies littering the ground behind his men. He hated flies.
Jason Carnes, whose corpse formed part of the tangle, had never seen it coming. Even when Brooks' men corralled the laboratory group out of the back door for "instructions," he had ignored the dubious looks from his own people and even went so far as to make excuses for the few lab technicians that had already vanished. Two of the techs had tried to escape in one of the delivery trucks early this morning. Their absence was discovered a few minutes before one of the early morning convoys departed for the distribution center, and the trucks were searched. They were found jammed between crates, cowering in fear. They had every reason to be afraid. Their bodies were hidden outside of the gate, until it was time to "sanitize" the facility.