The aircraft flew into the courtyard, and Leandro knew some pilot miles away guided them down so they faced the closed door where the survivors hid.
He watched short bursts of gunfire come from them at the door hinges, and he heard the hard sounds a half-second later. The door caved in as the planes strafed it and the inside of the room. The smaller drones then flew inside.
Leandro watched the pale gas emanate from the room like morning fog.
As if on a signal, all the drones rose together and flew away, going back the same way they came. He watched them until they disappeared over a shoulder of the mountain. He wiped his face with a hand and it came away clammy with sweat, even though the morning temperature was in the sixties.
A movement in the air caught his eye. It was a small drone, hovering near a pine just outside the fort walls, like it was looking for survivors.
Leandro dropped lower and crept away, all the time feeling as if he had a bulls-eye on his back. He stopped near a downed tree, long dead and gray with age and took time to send the video to Hunter Kincaid. It was a good thing he was high on the mountain or the signal might not have gotten out. He watched the phone for what seemed like an hour until it showed the message was completed. He turned off the phone and put it in his back pocket. He turned to look toward the lodge just as the drone zipped through the air towards him.
Falling backward, he went with the roll and somersaulted down the hill for forty yards before crashing into some brush. He peeked through the foliage and watched the single drone hovering where he’d been, and a dissipating cloud of gas was at the same place. He’d barely missed being poisoned, thanks to the female Border Patrol woman, Kincaid.
He waited until the drone disappeared, then carefully descended the mountain. This, he would not forget.
Chapter 8
When Hunter told her Patrol Agent in Charge at the Marfa Station about the phone call from Osorio, she thought it would be a blowup. A law enforcement person getting a personal call from a known cartel member, well that’s not supposed to happen.
But the PAIC said, “I’ll report it on up the line. They’ve filled me in on some of the things you’re doing, and that you should report everything to Lincoln Jones personally, too. They don’t tell me much, but I know that you’re into some heavy stuff right now. If you need something, let me know.”
Hunter felt like a weight had been lifted off her. She left the station and drove home. Her phone buzzed as she stepped in the kitchen and opened it to see the message and video from Osorio. It showed the drone attack at the lodge in the mountains.
Hunter watched the video all the way through. At the end, she said softly, “God-o-mighty.”
She called Lincoln Jones’ office, where Ashton answered, “Kincaid?”
“Ashton, I’m sending you a video after we hang up. It shows a drone attack on the cartel meeting.”
The pitch in Ashton’s voice grew higher, “How did you get that?”
She explained, and to Ashton’s credit he didn’t interrupt her. She said, “I thought we destroyed all of them, but I was wrong.”
“How many are in the video, can you guess?”
“They were swirling and darting around, but I’d say a couple hundred, maybe a few more.”
Ashton said, “I’ve put you on speaker so I can hear more clearly.”
Hunter said, “You’ll see another type of drone, too. It looks like a flying wing going up like a helicopter, but then transforms into an airplane. Crazy.”
Ashton said, “It sounds like a TERN. It stands for Tactically Exploited Reconnaissance Node, and DARPA is developing it with Northrop Grumman as a new airborne weapon to assist the Marines. It performs like you said, and will be a large asset during operations. But, it’s not available yet.”
Hunter said, “Well somebody’s jumped the gun, then. I have them on v
ideo. They shot the crap out of that lodge.” She could hear him shuffling papers and pacing.
Ashton said, “Hold on to the video. I’m going to talk with Lincoln and I’m sure he will agree that we should come down there. If that changes, I’ll call you back.”
“Okay. Hey, you need to notify Art about this, too. Who knows what other targets Hiyoki is searching for now.”
Ashton said, “After I talk to Lincoln. Be careful, Hunter.” He cut off the conversation. Hunter sat down, holding her phone. She watched the video again, looking for any clues, but nothing stood out. She had an idea and transferred a copy to her Mac, then enlarged it and watched one more time.
The enlargement allowed her to see it, the name of the lodge on the back of a bench near one room’s door: El Cazador.
Ten minutes on Google and she had the location, including the GPS coordinates. It was below the international border and east of Big Bend National Park, in Coahuila at the edge of the Maderas Del Carmen protected area, the sky islands of pristine natural beauty that looked like they could be twins for parts of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado.
Her phone rang. Ashton said, “We’re flying down, meet us at the airport, and Hunter, stay watchful.” He hung up before Hunter could ask if he’d contacted Art.