Page 84 of Mouse Trapped

Drawing his shoulders back, Drew raises his chin at the prez.

I nod at Truck, who jerks his head in understanding. Kid doesn’t know it, but I made a phone call to Jacob earlier. While we’re gone, the prospect will take him to see the horses. I thought doing something different, riding and perhaps helping the old man like I used to do, might take his mind off what’s going on. Things which are out of his control.

Knowing I can’t do any more, anxious to get where I’m going, I go to my bike. Minutes later we’re riding in formation out of the compound.

When we arrive at the private airport just outside Tucson, Devil’s already waiting by a hangar. We ride our bikes in andpark where directed. Then, placing my cut in my saddle bag, I hoist my duffle over my shoulder. Guns, ammunition, knives. Including, for good luck, my ancient flint knife. I’ve a yearning to save it for Mariana’s father.

It quickly becomes clear most of the mercenaries are English, their accents sounding odd to my ears. But everyone quiets as Devil starts talking.

“I’ve got autos and semis on the plane,” he informs us. “If anyone’s short or something else takes their fancy.” Blade’s eyes light up at his suggestion, then the Englishman continues, “Two of my lads, Jones and Wessler, are snipers. There’s a couple of others not bad at a distance. Should help put your plan in action, Mouse.”

I nod. Seems he’s taking my suggestions seriously. As I follow my brothers up the ramp, I’m in a state of disbelief at the turn life is taking. I’m a computer nerd, I’m not someone who mocks my own heritage by dressing up, I don’t scalp people, I don’t draw up battle plans. And I certainly don’t fly thousands of miles to rescue a woman I’ve met on the outside just the once. Added to that, I’m going with the determination to bring her back and make her my wife.

Dropped down a rabbit hole? A sink hole, perhaps. But hey, maybe there’s more to life than being stuck behind a computer. Which reminds me… Opening my duffle I take out then pass around the maps and Google Earth images I’d printed out. Every man takes a copy and starts to study them.

The men indicated as Jones and Wessler start an animated discussion, presumably deciding the best places where they can set up.

For a private jet this doesn’t have much going for it. A utilitarian troop transporter from the look of it. I catch Viper’s eye. He’d envisaged a pretty steward handing out champagne. He gives a self-deprecating grin back. Well, last time—and the firsttime for most of us—we flew in the Emir of Amahad’s private jet when we attended his wedding. VIP treatment the whole way. I can well understand Viper’s disappointment. Me? I just hope this thing will fly, and that the engines are better maintained than the inside.

Take-off is smooth, and soon we’re in the air. Devil doesn’t give us a chance to relax, gathering his team, and us, around him.

Without introduction, he waves his hand in my direction. “Mouse. Want to let my guys in on your idea?”

A computer nerd detailing a battle plan? Yeah. That makes sense. I clear my throat. “There’s eighteen of us, we think probably double or more of them. Seems the maximum could be fifty, but that’s unlikely as not all the men are often there at the same time. But we’re going to be outnumbered. If we storm the compound, then they’ve got the upper hand.” I wait for the nods of assent. Seems everyone’s with me so far. I unfold one of the photos of where we’re heading. “What we’ve got to do is deplete their numbers.” I point to a weakness in the defence. “My proposal is that a raiding party goes in here. Makes a disturbance, gets attention, then gets out of there fast.”

“Raiding party?” One of Devil’s guys raises an eyebrow.

Marvel nudges my arm. “Get on with it, Chief.” He smirks.

I ignore them. “The men inside will give chase; another team will be waiting to finish them off. In the meantime, we make a simultaneous… attack…,” I’m now choosing my words carefully, “on another part of the compound. Here, I’d suggest.” Again I move my finger on the paper. “Also here, if we can.”

“Six on one team, two others of five.” Devil joins in. “Three to get their attention, the others waiting to finish them off. That leaves our snipers to pick anyone else who escapes. Don’t want them to regroup and catch us from the back. Mouse’s planmeans they won’t know how many they’re up against, and which direction the next salvo is coming from.”

“Causing confusion. I like it.” The mercenary whose name appears to be Carter gives a wicked grin.

It’s the way the Navajo raiding parties worked. Get the enemy confused, chasing their tails. Small groups of Navajo took out much larger enemies. If it was successful for them, can’t see why it wouldn’t work for us.

“Once we’ve decimated their numbers,” it’s Devil’s show now, “we join up and approach the main building, entering here and here.” Now it’s him pointing to the entrances, front and back.

“Need any survivors?” Wessler asks, his tone indicating he doesn’t care one way or the other.

“I want them all dead.” I’ve no doubt about that.

Devil sends me a quick look. “If we can captureEl Procurador, all well and good. But the team’s safety, and that of Mouse’s woman, comes first. Shoot to kill.”

“I want to find Mariana.” That’s my sole aim.

“Yeah. Once inside, Drummer, your boys can focus on finding the woman while we try to takeEl Procurador.”

The rest of the journey is spent fine tuning our approach, with Devil assigning us to teams. As there’s six of us, Satan’s Devils will be sticking together. It makes sense. We know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Blade, myself and Marvel are all the fastest sprinters, so we’ll be the ones going inside first. When we’ve picked up pursuers, Drummer, Viper and Dollar will be waiting to take them out.

How Devil arranged it, I’ve no idea. But we land in Colombia at a private landing strip where transport is waiting. It’s a four-hour journey to our destination. In the trucks, we’re mostly silent, all thinking our own thoughts. I’ve checked my guns and ammunition, and go over the plan again in my head.At least after the initial forays, I’ll be searching for Mariana. Where is she likely to be held? Is her father treating her like a treasured daughter? Will I find her in the main house? There’s no way of knowing.

As if he’s reading my mind, Drummer leans over. “El Procuradoris the key, Mouse. Get to him and make him talk. Your ol’ lady might even be with him.”

“Yeah. Got your scalping knife, Chief?”

I shoot Blade a disdainful look, not bothering to again tell him my knife is multi-purpose. Perfectly good enough to do the job of cutting throats. I’m glad I brought it with me, somehow hoping it will be a conduit to the spirits of my ancestors, and bring me good luck. Today I’m not the man who sits behind the computer, I’m on the front line. Gradually I feel the white in me fading, my warrior side coming to the fore.Mariana.My muscles start to tense in anticipation, my back becomes straighter.Hold on, Mariana. I’m coming for you.The thought of what I’ll do when I find her, of bringing her home, I push to the back of my mind.No room for distraction. Just focus on the task.

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