Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3)(125)
“Now what?”
Caesare stood. He took a deep breath and listened to the sounds of Otero’s men fortifying their positions. His answer felt unnatural. “We do our job and leave.”
Corso frowned in the darkness. “You’re joking, right?”
“No. As bad as we want to, our mission is not to take these bastards out. Our mission is still to find that monkey and get the hell out of here.”
Tiewater’s voice was low and angry. “I say we take them out and then go.”
“We can’t risk it. Things could go sideways, fast. It’s going to be hard enough finding Juan.”
“I’ll get him,” Corso said.
Caesare nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
“Negative. You’ll just slow me down.”
Caesare smirked. “I’m not that old.”
“No offense, sir. But I can get in faster alone.”
Tiewater nodded. “He’s right. Besides, someone needs to locate DeeAnn and Dulce. Which is probably you.”
Caesare didn’t like the way this argument was going. But he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. “Fine.” He nodded at Tiewater. “Corso gets Juan, you find some transportation, and I’ll find the others.”
“My pleasure.”
“With any luck you might be able to give Corso here a nice diversion.”
“But wait for my go,” Corso said. “Until I find out what condition Juan is in. We might need a ride.”
Tiewater smiled.
“When you find something,” Caesare said, “head north, down that way. We’re taking the other road out of here.”
Captain Salazar was livid. He ended another tirade, directed at his lieutenant, and clenched his fists in frustration.
Thirty percent. THIRTY PERCENT! He’d just lost thirty percent of his men in less than an hour! What in God’s name happened?
Sosa tried to explain, but it was too late. Salazar wasn’t interested in excuses. He wanted answers. Like how such a large force made it up here before they did? He was expecting a few men. But clearly there were more out there. And to make matters worse, his men evidently didn’t see a damn thing!
Salazar put his hands on his hips, thinking. “Where’s Becca?”
“We don’t know. We lost track of her and her detail.”
“Jesus,” Salazar muttered, rolling his eyes. “Did your men do anything right?”
Sosa’s reply was indignant. “We killed one of them.”
“Dozens of men lost for only one of theirs. Doesn’t exactly make me feel better. Another fight like that and it’ll be over.” He shook his head and dismissed Sosa. “Go get me some damn answers.”
Sosa nodded but didn’t bother replying. Instead, he walked away and crossed through several lines of men until he reached the base of a large tree. Sitting on the ground, tied to the trunk, was the dark outline of Juan Diaz.
Sosa took a flashlight from one of his men and approached, shining the beam into the young man’s face.
Juan squinted and turned away as Sosa stopped and stared down at him.
“Who are you?”
“M-my name is Juan. Juan Diaz.”
“Why are you here?”
Juan resisted, saying nothing. Until he watched Sosa withdraw a handgun and lay it across his knee.
“I-I was asked to come. I’m an engineer.”
“An engineer, out here? Why?” Sosa asked. His accent was strong, leaving Juan struggling to understand.
“To fix the computer.”
Sosa frowned. What computer would be out here? Either the kid was lying or the enemy had equipment he wasn’t familiar with.
“Who brought you here?”
Juan hesitated again, long enough to hear the slide action on someone’s gun.
“I came with a group…of SEALs.”
“SEALs?” Sosa’s voice changed. “How many?”
“Two dozen,” Juan lied.
Sosa bolted to his feet. As he turned to leave, Sosa’s eyes met with Otero’s man, Russo, now standing behind him. If Sosa was nervous at the sound of Navy SEALs, Russo looked as though his heart just stopped.
He had been right all along.
Juan sat on the soft ground, frightened and watching the dark figures of Otero’s soldiers moving back and forth. They were talking excitedly in Portuguese, and judging from all the gunfire, it didn’t appear as if things were going very well for them. Which gave him at least some trace of satisfaction.
He’d been on the ground for almost an hour and kept trying to change his position to keep the circulation from being cut off, but the tingling in his feet returned. He was losing feeling.
The headlights of another military truck appeared, easing to a stop at the end of the line where several soldiers were waiting. They quickly jumped in and began unloading a number of large crates, followed by an even larger piece of equipment. It was lowered carefully to the ground, and the thick canvas cover was removed to reveal a powerful-looking piece of artillery. Juan watched helplessly as the men disappeared into the darkness with the giant weapon and its remaining pieces.