Chapter 8 Backdoor Company

Stinson sent two men ahead to secure the cabin and the occupants. I refused to go inside; I really didn't want any part of this and wanted to be gone ASAP. Before I could express my wishes I saw someone walking toward my rock line. "Alto, Alto, Alto." I yelled. Ben was with me as we ran to the line. Using my rifle scope Ben immediately saw the IR lines, "What the fu...?"

In Spanish I said, "I think the rock face is fake, there may be a vault or storage locker in there. The circuit board had several circuits for fancy electronic locks and ventilation. Look at the road in, the ground has been unusually compacted and then raked to look natural again. There may be a pressure plate under here as well. I'd run a metal detector over this before I'd proceed. "

"Captain, what the hell is going on?" Ben asked.

"I don't know and don't want to know. You Feds have a whole arsenal of agencies that can sort this out; I just want to be far, far away."

Stinson appeared and when Ben explained what was suspected the commander responded with his "Bull Shit" retort. He needed to enlarge his vocabulary. I reminded Stinson, through Carson, of what the two men inside had said about coming visitors and suggested guards are posted.

"I don't have the manpower," Stinson complained.

I wasn't asking him to roll out the Welcome Wagon, sheesh.

In Spanish I told Ben about the back door entry from behind this ridge, a perfect stealth entry to the cabin. At least one person needed to be up there watching. Carson translated.

"Show me," Stinson barked.

As we climbed narrow path, I stopped and pointed back to the cabin, front entry, forest sides and the meadow behind. Even Stinson realized the security implications. He seemed nervous for the first time.

"Ben, you and Mr. Tijuana can stay here, watch this entry and report back to me."

"Senor, me llamo Castillo, no es Tijuana," I said to Stinson.

Ben translated, "His name is Castillo, sir, not Tijuana."

Stinson just looked at me and walked away.

"Mr. Tijuana? Was that an insult? I asked as we watched Stinson make his way back down the hill.

"Sadly yes, but at least your disguise held, Mr. Tijuana," he said jokingly.

"He's a royal jackass. I thought better of Homeland."

"Yeah, he is disappointing. He can't think beyond his own socks."

I "phoned home" once Ben and I were set up over-looking the meadow and roadway, "Bob, I'm still in disguise here. HLS has sent a real jerk. This could turn from bad to catastrophic fast."

"Tell me more," Bob responded.

"HLS in charge is Jack Stinson."

"Oh damn," Bob moaned. Bob rarely swore, this must be bad.

"You know him?" I asked.

"Egotistical SOB, he is stupid as a rock. He's been trying to get to Washington by playing cowboy."

"Dang," I said. I went on to explain what I found, extreme surveillance and probable vault hidden in the hill behind the house, pressure plates, IR, motion detectors, C4 rigged bridge, electronic locks, ventilation and sensors. Also our Middle East guests talked about visitors coming today. Stinson at least put me and Carson on lookout to the most logical entry, a back road."

"Any way you can get out of there?" Bob asked.

"Bob, right now I'd like to be in Australia, far from this. I've got real bad feeling about what's in the vault."

"What are you thinking? Weapons?"

"The place is too heavily protected for gun cache unless it is huge. Why would one need a ventilation system? I'm thinking larger, like WMD's; chemical, biological, radioactive something like that. This is too much security for a meth lab unless it's the mother of all labs. Then the Middle East guys don't fit."

Ben's eyes bugged out.

"Without proof..."

"Bob, the entry road is booby trapped with C4. The controls are inside but the road had a secondary back up detonator. The meadow up front is lazed and probably booby trapped probably to repel approach by foot or helicopter. Side accesses through the forest are the same. We need bomb disposal up here ASAP, I don't think Mr. HLS has called that in. Traffic needs to be blocked at least 10 miles down the road. I need to know where this back road enters and have it blocked. That isn't going to happen with 5 people, including the dingbat in charge. So far there's only one here I think has brains...Ben Carson. He served under me in Iraq. Bob, if you have any clout, get some people up here who know their asses from the brains, I'd like to come home...alive."

"What about the two guys in the cabin?"

"Mr. Homeland will probably turn them loose and apologize without running an ID on them. Government is afraid of lawsuits for unlawful detention. I don't have paper on them. That one is on me. Hope our insurance is paid up."

"You want to be called Castillo when I call in the cavalry?"

"Right now Stinson is calling me Mr. Tijuana, Castillo might confuse him." I paused a moment, "Yeah, keep me as Castillo, no first name."

We waited. Road blocks on the main road were not in place, vehicle traffic continued past the front gate. Ben ran down for more water, but HLS forgot food supplies. MRE would be fine, but there were none. I had a two food bars in my pockets and gave Ben one. "May be all we get until we are relieved and back in Denver. I don't think Stinson is going to call for pizza."

Ben and I sat and waited. We talked a bit, I told him about the Iraq mission, Kuwait and how I became undead. He told me how he hung onto the secret file for only a couple of weeks when a joint task investigative force blew through. He gave the file to a Kuwaiti Intelligence colonel named "sam-something."

I smiled. "Colonel Samaha, perfect."

I finished up my story with the two years with Marshal Service and now with private security Bob Simon.

"Heard of him, he's well respected. Rumors are your company is associated with a company back east that does some super-secret stuff."

I laughed, "They haven't shared that info with us. We are just run of the mill but our tech guys' rock."

Around 3 pm a large SUV came up the dirt road.

"Visitors, I count four men. Call it in Ben". I suddenly realized I had fallen back to Army mode, giving commands and Ben was the knowledgeable and reliable Sargent. Old habits. I apologized to Ben. He laughed it off.

Two men started walking from the meadow and up the hill towards us. It would take several minutes to get to us and a few more after to get over the rise and see the commotion around the cabin. The other two took something from the rear of the SUV.

"Ben, I have cable ties, we are going to capture those two and secure them to some trees out of sight of their friends."

"Yes ma'am. I have extra scarves for gags."

Whatever was taken out of the SUV required assembly, giving us time to capture the hikers. We moved to an intercept spot and waited. The two men were taken by surprise. Both Ben and I were taller and better trained. We weren't delicate and got the job done quickly and quietly. Judging from the swearing before they were gagged, I'd say our visitors were Middle East. Ben and I didn't need to speak; we knew what we were doing.

We moved off out of hearing range but still spoke Spanish to one another. "Do you want me to call this in," Ben asked.

"No way, The Village Idiot will come over the ridge and alert those other two below us. We only have a few moments before they miss seeing these two on the trail.

I resumed watching what was happening in the meadow. The assembly was nearly complete. "It's a drone with a camera. They are going to do aerial surveillance. Call your boss, tell him to get his people out of sight."

"What about our vehicles?"

I groaned.

I called Bob, "We got problems. We have two guests, Arab speaking, tied up in the trees but their two companions are about to launch a surveillance drone. HLS's vehicles are still in the entry road. Bob, I'm going to try to take out the drone before it gets too many pictures. I want everyone alive and talking, so I'm just going to disable their vehicle. Ben and I will figure out a way to have these other two join us."

When I hung up I transferred Bob's number the Ben's phone. "I suspect you'll need to talk with him."

I moved down closer to the meadow, keeping behind the rocks. When the drone motor started up I'd have but a few precious seconds to disable it. It will be one heck of a shot.

One guy was the controller; the other was watching a laptop set on the SUV hood. Which target first I wondered. At the last moment I decided the laptop was a better target and fired. The bullet tore through the screen and into the side of the computer operator. The one controlling the drone hesitated and I hit the drone with the second shot. It flew apart and I think a portion hit the man holding the controller. He grabbed his arm and ducked behind the SUV. He came back up with a rifle. I remained out of sight. The two cell phones I had removed from our tied up friends began to vibrate in my pockets. I shut them down and pulled their cards. I didn't need the GPS in them broadcasting their location.

We were at an impasse. Ben's phone vibrated, I knew who he was talking to. Finally in frustration Ben hung up and I heard "fucker." Uh Oh, Ben is going to need a new job after this.

I kept my eye on the SUV and surrounding areas. The far front door opened, the vehicle rocked as if people were getting inside. Aiming for the tires facing me, I took out the front and rear. Undeterred, the driver started the SUV and began backing away. I kept firing, this time into the engine compartment, figuring the heavier metal would deflect the bullet but hopefully ricochet into something softer and vital-an oil line maybe. When the SUVs nose presented its self to me, I added a few more rounds into the radiator, this SUV wasn't going far. It never occurred to me to try to kill the driver. Dead men don't talk and we needed to interrogate these guys.

"The other is moving," Ben called.

I was concentrating on the vehicle I didn't noticed the other guy, the rifleman was running towards the far hills. That was a bad mark on my part, keep your eye on the guy with the gun.

"Ben follow the SUV, keep hidden in case Mr. Rifle takes a bead on you. Do not let the SUV or the occupant reach the highway. We need him alive and talking. I'm going after that rifleman."

I gave the two phones from our guests to Ben and return he gave me his water bottle. "Ben, you'll need your water," I insisted.

"No, he's not going far."

Crossing an open meadow following a scoped rifle wasn't going to happen. I needed a way to get across without being seen. The only way to maintain cover was to swing far to the left into the trees. I'd lose time, but better than lose my head.

Ranger returns next chapter...