Hunter shot Pearce a dirty look and a half smile then proceeded.
“As I was saying. Twelve of our 13 tunnelers broke into an unexpected cavern or cave. They were attacked by something and all, but Julio was killed.”
Hunter paused to allow everyone in the room to give Julio a look then continued. “Julio is the only witness and he tells us, quite convincingly, that he was attacked by baboons.”
Some in the room scoffed while others rolled their eyes.
“Our boss, Mr. Alvarado, theorizes that what actually happened was that a rival group tunneled in on our boys and took them out.”
“Is it possible?” Nickerson asked. “That mercs could be confused for monkeys or whatever?”
Hunter stood at the front of the room and thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Could’ve been some guys down there in light color camo or body armor…”
“I know what I to see,” Julio interrupted from the side of the room.
All the room looked to Julio. He still wore a face of loss and trauma but also of sincerity.
“I know what I to see,” Julio replied. “I know.”
“I don’t care who it was or what it was,” Hunter began anew. “Whatever it is, we’re going to eliminate the problem ASAP so we can get some boys back down there to digging.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.”
All eyes in the room darted to the door where Miguel now stood. His business attire dress was in sharp contrast to the tactical wear that dominated the room. “Because we are losing a great deal of money by the tunnel not being completed.”
Miguel paused and entered the room. He stood next to Hunter then looked to him for approval. Hunter gestured be my guest with his hand and Miguel began again once more.
“This tunnel is a sizable investment but one that will earn 400 to 500 times its cost once the first shipment of fentanyl makes it across. Each day that I don’t have a truck driving through it represents a loss of tens of millions of dollars.”
Julio paused once more to allow the numbers and the severity of opening the tunnel to register with the people in the room. He then turned to Hunter and apologized, “I didn’t mean to interrupt… to hijack your meeting with a financial report.”
“No problem,” Hunter insisted. “You’re always welcome.”
“I actually came in to hear Captain Taylor’s ideas,” Miguel continued. “Based on his experiences in Afghanistan, I’m sure whatever he has planned will be quite interesting.”
Miguel stepped back into the doorway and watched as Taylor stood. Hunter dimmed the lights and Taylor took his place before a hand-drawn map that was projected on the screen at the front of the room.
“The tunnel begins here in the barn and is currently closed off via a hastily reinforced garage door. The interior of the tunnel measures almost seven feet tall and six and a half feet wide which is barely enough room to drive a modified truck through. A single line of lights runs along the ceiling with a bulb every few feet. The walls and floor are packed earth or rock.”
Taylor paused then, seeing that he still had everyone’s attention and understanding, continued.
“Julio and his men made it almost a mile and a half before breaking into a larger opening and being attacked. We have no idea how large this opening is, if it was man-made, or what, if anything, in the way of aggressors are within it.” Taylor paused again then stepped away from the screen. He looked upon the team and addressed them on a more personal level.
“I know the measurements I gave you seem tight, but I assure you they are not. Most of the tunnels I dredged through in Stan Land were a third of that size. I have no idea what attacked Julio and his men, but I do know that it used surprise and the dark to its advantage.”
Most in the makeshift station room nodded in agreement.
“And we’ll do the same. Each one of you, including Julio, will be outfitted with either night vision or thermal imagery goggles.”
Taylor saw puzzlement wash over Miguel and Julio’s faces.
“Basically, thermal imaging sees heat,” Taylor explained.
Miguel nodded in understanding.
Julio still looked confused.
Taylor disregarded the latter and returned to his team.
“We’ll go in two-by-two with me and Hunter in the lead and Agüera and Ruck pulling up the rear.”
Agüera and Ruck nodded in agreement. Agüera held his hand to Ruck for a fist bump that was denied with a smirk and a dismissive wave of the hand. The room exploded into laughter and howls of how Agüera was dissed.
“Only problem I expect we’ll have his line of sight,” Taylor continued. “Given the heavy slope of the tunnel, we won’t have visual very far ahead of us regardless of what goggles we’re wearing. So slow and steady is the name of the game. If or when we encounter hostiles, command will revert back to Hunter. Any questions?”
“Where will Julio be?” Nickerson asked.
“He’ll be behind me,” Taylor replied. “He knows the tunnel. I need him up front with me.”
Nickerson nodded, as did a few others in the room.
Miguel did not nod in agreement.
He didn’t believe Julio and found his story ridiculous, a complete waste of time. He was only allowing Julio to live as he was the only tunneler left and so the only one who could guide the team to where the ambush took place. Miguel told Hunter that he expected Julio to be dealt with accordingly once his story about killer apes was proven to be a complete fabrication.
Taylor brought Miguel’s train of thought to a standstill. “Any other questions?” he continued.
Miguel stepped front and center once more. “Not a question, Captain, but a promise to you and your team. You all open the tunnel by this time tomorrow and you are each looking at a $10,000 bonus.”
The team exploded into cheers and calls of excitement.
Hunter clapped his hands together and shouted over the noise, “Let’s saddle up and earn that bonus.”
26.
Border Patrol Agents Joel Andrews and Champe Carter exited their Chevy Suburban and made their way toward Cletus Lee who stood panting in the early morning heat next to his pickup.
“Are you Mr. Kane?” Agent Andrews asked nervously, palming the firearm in his side holster.
“King. Not Kane,” Cletus Lee angrily explained. “I’m Cletus Lee. I called this mess in to you boys.”
“And, are you an American citizen, Mr. King?” Agent Carter asked with pen and pad in his hand.
“Hell, yes I’m American. I’m a White, God-fearing, Christian Republican. And my name is Cletus Lee King. It don’t get much more American than that.”
“And are you armed, sir?” Agent Andrews asked. “Because you seem rather agitated and for our own safety….”
Cletus Lee raised his hands and spit a few ounces of tobacco spittle upon the ground. “I got a pistol in my back waistband. I’ve got a concealed carry card in my wallet. And I’m not agitated.”
“That’s just what an agitated individual would say,” Agent Andrews explained.
Agent Carter placed his notepad into his front shirt pocket, made his way to behind Cletus Lee, and pulled the pistol from his waistband.
“We’ll return this to you once you calm down,” Agent Andrews explained.
“That ain’t going to happen any time real soon, I tell ya,” Cletus Lee said, dropping his hands. “I’m starting to regret calling you boys. Y’all ask about my citizenship, take my gun—”
“You called about some dead illegals,” Agent Carter interrupted.
“No,” Cletus Lee corrected. “I called you boys about my construction crew back there being dead. I mean, sure, some of them are illegals, but most ain’t. Half of ‘em ain’t.”