Breaking Point Part XXVI (Conclusion)

[Robbie C.]

“Damn shame those pictures from the Coast Guard never got to us.” Rico looked out the window of the Ferrari as he spoke, so Sonny couldn’t see his eyes.

“Yeah, but we gotta move on this. I know you think we’re moving too fast, but we can’t give these guys any room. They’re good, and they’re looking for us. Who knows how much they’ve uncovered already.”

“You think they bought someone in Metro-Dade?”

“Sure. That and they can always read the paper.”

He saw Rico nod. “Yeah. Mindy was telling me about that open source stuff. We did draw some press when we were with OCB. Especially Castillo.”

“Yeah. And now we don’t make the papers. That’s gonna tell someone something.”

“Yeah…” But there was still doubt in Rico’s voice.

“I’m not going cowboy, Rico. We’ve got every base covered as much as we can. No one’s hung out to dry. You’ve all got too much going now. Stan’s married, you’re almost married, Marty’s married. I’m not gonna come up with a plan that puts any of that at more risk than I have to. But if we don’t stop these guys, they’ll keep coming after us.” He cut off a sedan full of tourists. “We’re a threat to them, and we’ve seen how they deal with threats.”

“Yeah. I hear you. I know we don’t have more time. And it ain’t just that. It feels like something’s ending.”

“Maybe it is, partner. But there’s beginnings all around us. And right now we gotta get our game faces on. We’re almost there.”

“Are the birds gonna show? We never got them…”

“Randy and Marty took the cash with the guns. They’re set. And with Dave and Jester and Toad there no one’s gonna get any ideas. I think Moneybags sent Jester and Toad because they’re pilots. He’s the kind that covers every base twice, and then puts in overwatch to be sure. Naw, man. That side’s set. And the way Crane looked when he found out it was Unit 8? I think he’d fly the damned mission for free just to square things for that village.”

“Let’s do this shit. Marcus is ready to do the deed and then some.”

Sonny was extra aware of the weight of his Smith & Wesson under his arm and the Detonics on his ankle. He adjusted his sunglasses one last time and checked his watch. Stan’s tape was timed perfectly, so right about now they would have heard a report of a white Ferrari entering the meeting zone. He shut off the car and stepped out into the late morning heat, feeling sweat beading in the small of his back and along his sides. “Let’s roll.”

The marina was one of those spots straddling the old Miami and the new, small coffee shops competing with boutique stores that opened and failed within six months, only to see an almost identical shop with a different name spring up in its place. It was too hot for loitering tourists, but a few people sat in the shade thrown by table umbrellas outside the coffee shops or sprawled in grass shaded by palm trees. The marina itself was closed for renovations, but that didn’t stop people from taking in the views or just killing some time before their next appointment.

As he walked feeling the heat from the pavement seeping through the thin soles of his shoes, Sonny imagined the calls going out from Pete to Metro-Dade. The vans moving quietly into position, waiting for the go signal to flash out over the airways. And it would all start here, or on one of the rooftops around the marina. Depending on who shot first.

Rico sidled up beside him. “This shit’s for the birds, man. Marcus don’t dig sweating through his threads. These assholes better show.”

Sonny turned, seeing a group of three men break away from the dark entryway to one of the coffee shops on the Little Havana side of the marina. “Looks like they’re showing. Two younger dudes and an older guy who must be that captain. Even when they’re playing they still fall in behind him.” He let his face slide into the hard Burnett stare and started across the informal square.

 

Philipe didn’t take his eye from the scope. “I have Burnett and the monkey. Just like those invisible snipers said. Do you have a fix on them yet?”

“No. I’m still sweeping. You’re sure this Metro-Dade never goes more than four hundred yards from their observation spot?”

“Yes. Their superiors want them to be sure before they shoot, so they have to see faces precisely. Our source insisted.” He squinted a bit as the sun shifted. “Damn it. I don’t want to lose the view.”

 

“Movement.” Castillo’s voice was a whisper on the thick, hot air.

“Where?”

“Lima 26. You were right on the money.”

Randy shifted a hair, his entire being focused on the crosshairs and the world they bisected. “I have two targets.”

“Confirm two. The one on your left has a rifle. The other appears to be the spotter.”

“Range me.”

“Range 1000 yards.”

“I have 1005.”

“Confirm 1005. Wind is three miles from the east.”

“Confirmed.” Randy spun the calculations in his head. “I have them. Waiting for the shot.”

“Let Crockett and Tubbs get right up to them. I know you can’t see it. Wait for my go.”

“Copy that.” Randy pushed the images of the Vietnamese farmer out of his head. There had bene there, lurking just beyond his conscious thoughts waiting to slip in and fuck with his aim. Be cool. It’s not some punk LT beside you. This guy knows his business. And you saw the rifle. You can make this shot in your Goddamned sleep. He focused on the breath moving in and out of his lungs, pausing halfway through each time. Steady breathing dropping his heart rate. Seeing the small bounce in the crosshairs steady out into its own pulse.

He sensed Castillo shifting, but didn’t alter his aim or position. The other shooters seemed to be moving for a better angle. “They’re moving.”

“Adjusting their view. Wait for it.”

“Copy that. Holding.” But it was hard. He could feel the rough trigger under his index finger, the warm wood of the stock against his cheek and the buttplate wedged into the pocket of his shoulder.

Castillo’s voice when it came wasn’t a surprise. “Green light.”

 

Sonny didn’t change his expression as the older man drew near. “So you’re the one who’s calling the shots.”

“No. But I am the one you must deal with.” Salazar nodded but didn’t offer his hand.

“To the point. Good. Marcus and I don’t have time to waste.”

“Neither do we. I understand your companion claims to have access to transportation routes to New York.”

“Marcus don’t claim. Marcus does. And so far all Marcus hears from you people is talk.”

“And I don’t trust someone who talks about himself in third person. But we’ll set that aside now. I think you both know what my people can do if you don’t work with us.”

“Yeah. Pile up heads. But if you pile up ours, you lose access to what we have.” Sonny pursed his lips. “My people will disappear if you take me out, and if you take out Marcus his people will do the same. Then you’re left empty handed. That won’t look good to the boss.”

“And you don’t make money if you’re dead. So we propose a ten percent tax on what you move. In exchange you get access to our product and we will steer people to you so you can move their product.”

“That ten percent come off retail or wholesale?”

“Whatever the client is paying for the product. How you collect that is your affair, but we will insist on our ten percent.”

Sonny looked at Rico, pretending to consider. “How do we know you ain’t gonna raise the rate? Or that some other bunch of gunslingers isn’t going to come up and demand the same thing? You cave once in this business, you’re making yourself an easy mark.”

“If anyone comes up, we take them out. That is our end of the bargain. If anyone makes trouble, you let us know and we make the trouble go away. That saves you the cost of hiring extra men.”

“And if we say no?”

Salazar smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small hand radio. “Then we demonstrate our reach.” He keyed the mic and started to say something in Spanish. He was partway through when two quick rifle shots echoed through the marina.

Sonny looked at him and smiled. “Seems you got our answer.”

His fingers closed around the butt of his 4506-1 as Salazar started to turn. The two men behind him clawed for their pistols, their eyes going wide as bullets tore gaping holes in their chests. The .45 shots were so fast it sounded like a machine gun instead of four men with pistols. Sonny’s pistol had just cleared the holster when Moneybags’ team entered his field of view, their .45s in steady two-hand grips. The team leader fired three times, and Salazar spun away in a spray of blood and bone.

 

Randy shot first for the man with the rifle, letting out half a break before he felt the rifle recoil back into his shoulder, He threw the bolt before the echoes of the first shot reached his ears, calling “hit” from a deep reflex, and then brought the rifle back on target. He picked up the spotter, more a speck among other specks at that distance, and felt the trigger break again. “Hit.” Another smoking cartridge spun away from the breech of his Remington. “Both targets down.”

Castillo swept the distant roof with his spotting scope. “Confirm both targets down.” Then he raised the radio as distant pistol shots rolled out fast enough to sound like automatic weapons fire. “Execute. I say again, execute. Launch the birds and hit all targets. Green light.”

Only then did Randy feel the adrenalin start to flow. And the reality also sank in. He’d make two kills in as many seconds, one of them likely the bastard who’d shot Dave. But years of drill and training pushed his feelings aside. “We gotta move,” he said, gathering up the spent brass and his rifle. “Five mikes until the birds get here, and we got ground to cover.”

Castillo nodded. “Nice shooting, Randy.”

“Just doing my job, captain.” But he felt a smile spreading over his face. “Now let’s move or we’ll be left holding our dicks in the middle of the square down there.”

 

Sonny got his earphone in just in time to hear Castillo launch the raids. He’d clipped his marshal’s badge on his jacket, more to keep the screaming bystanders away than anything else. Most had the good sense to run, and the few who tried to stick around or take pictures were herded back by Rico and Casanova. He looked down at his pistol, feeling silly for just holding it in his hand. “Your guys are fast.”

“Comes with the territory.” Moneybags almost smiled. “Let’s get their weapons and get ready to move. You hear what I hear?”

Sonny nodded, the distinctive thump of twin rotors reaching his ears over the screams and echoes from the shooting. “Choppers inbound. Marty and Randy better get moving.” As he helped Moneybags police up the Berettas the dead men had been carrying, and emptying their pockets for intel, he tried not to think of the other raids going in. Of Mindy, Trudy, Stan, and Lester with the warrant teams heading into what could be ambushes or serious firefights. They had their own battle waiting for them over the water in a place called Red.

The birds came in over the water, low enough to kick up waves and maybe hit a careless surfer with a skid. Sonny looked at them and grinned. The pilots had taken it on themselves to paint both birds jet black. Moneybags laughed. “Guess we’ll be ‘black helicopter UN assassins’ before lunch,” he shouted over the thumping rotors and whining engines.

Somewhere Dave had picked up mirrored aviator sunglasses, and he grinned at Sonny from behind an M-60 suspended on a bungie cord from the upper door frame. As soon as the skids touched pavement he waved his good arm. “Get on, boss! We got some pictures for you from the Coasties. That’s Gus on the far door gun. He’s good people.”

Sonny nodded, jumping on and reaching for the plain manila envelope. Moneybags was right behind him, and he handed three of the six pictures to the Delta team leader. Once they both had headsets on Sonny swung his mic down. “Pictures of Red,” he said as the others boarded their birds, Castillo and Randy last and out of breath from their run.

Moneybags nodded, looking closely at his before trading with Sonny. “Those defenses aren’t serious,” he said at last. “More the kind of thing a unit does out of habit. Nothing deep, no solid overhead cover. No threat.”

By chance they’d climbed on Jackson Crane’s bird, and he looked back from the left front seat. Sonny noticed Toad in the right seat and grinned. So the big guy could fly, too. “Looks like you got some of those bastards. We ready to hit the rest?”

Castillo came on the short-range net. “Yes. Mr. Cole says he’s good to go.”

Sonny felt a smiled building on his face. Leave it to Marty to use their old ranks. Warrant officers were always mister, and the damned best pilots in Nam. “Let’s get this done, gents. As far as we know this is a free fire zone, but keep your eyes open just the same.”

Gus looked over. He was a skinny guy with red-rimmed eyes. The kind the war had gotten ahold of and never quite let go. “We’ll take these guys down for you, mister. I saw what these animals did in that village with Mr. Crane. And maybe after I’ll sleep good at night again.”

Before Sonny could reply Jackson pulled pitch and the Huey shot into the thick air like it had been shot from a cannon. He banked hard over the city, avoiding major air traffic routes, and started climbing. “We’ll take the first leg high, and drop down low about a mile or so out. You boys might want to get your gear ready.” He chuckled. “And we brought fatigues along so you two don’t ruin those pretty suits or that Henderson jersey. That would be a damned shame.”

The wind whipping through the open cargo bay made changing tricky, and Sonny scrambled into his fatigues with one hand while stuffing his slacks and blazer into the gear bag with the other. He listened with half an ear to Moneybags running through the assault plan with his men, knowing they’d be tagging along behind in any case. He didn’t want to get in the way of these men. Besides, there was the document retrieval mission to consider.

Still, he couldn’t put the other raids out of his mind. They’d be going in by now, Brick and the other deputies in the lead with Task Force personnel along for the ride. The warrant teams knew the score…Pete would be straight with them about what they were walking into. He hoped they’d gotten everyone at the meeting site. The last thing he wanted to think about was one of the teams walking into a trap.

Rico punched his arm, and he pulled the earphones away from his head. “They’ll be fine, Sonny!” The shouted words were swept almost immediately out the door.

“Yeah! Gotta worry, though!” He looked out the door at the water flashing by under them. The cool metal of his CAR-15 was starting to warm under his fingers, and he checked the magazine out of habit he’d thought forgotten. Jackson’s voice came over the headphones. “Test the guns, boys. We’re far enough out no one’s gonna notice.”

Short bursts from the door guns were muffled chatter through the headphones, and he saw Dave and Gus look at each other and nod. “Good to go,” Gus said, patting the feed cover of his gun. Looking out, Sonny saw quick flashes from Jimmy’s bird and heard similar calls over the local net.

His gut was turning into a familiar ball. He hadn’t been on many combat assaults during his time in Vietnam. Marines didn’t do as many of those as the Cav, and MPs did even fewer than the rest. He could hear Jackson and Jimmy talking pilot-talk, and the birds started to descend. “We’re about ten minutes out, boys,” Jackson said in a voice devoid of stress. He could have been talking about the local weather or some movie he’d just seen. “No word on the others, but those fancy boys are jamming the net but good. If Red’s trying to talk, they’re getting nothing but static.”

Castillo’s voice came over the air. “Good. Lock and load, people. We’ll make one pass for suppressive fire and then they’ll put us in. The birds will hang back for fire support, and come in on our signal for extraction. Fuel’s an issue, so we’ll have no more than twenty minutes on the ground.”

Sonny felt his blood run cold when Moneybags came on. “Let’s finish these fuckers.”

The Hueys came lower and lower until they were a handful of feet above the churning waves. Looking out, Sonny imagined he could see fish just below the surface, maybe looking up and wondering what the hell was going on. Moneybags’ face was frozen in a blank stare, and Sonny wondered just how many birds he’d ridden into hot LZ. Nam alone must have provided quite a few, and who knows how many after that. Hatchet sat next to him, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. But his carbine was locked and loaded and ready to go. Even Dave was leaning partway out the cargo door, starting to look for targets, and across from him Gus was doing the same thing. How many years has it been since he did this? But there he is…halfway out the fuckin’ door looking for targets. Sonny shook his head, knowing he didn’t deserve to be among such men.

He wondered how Rico must feel. All this was new to his partner, and he could see traces of unease and maybe fear in his dark eyes. But still he had that carbine ready, following the lead of Hatchet and trying to look unconcerned.

The bird dropped a bit more and nosed down, picking up speed. “Thirty seconds. You’re cleared hot, guys. Let the fuckers have it.”

Both Gus and Dave were only half in the Huey now, leaning out and looking for targets. They flashed over the beach, going from water to sand in half a heartbeat. Dave fired first, sending a quick burst into one of the foxholes. “Hit,” he announced calmly into the intercom.

Then Gus got in the act. They shot over a small courtyard between the big house and three smaller cabins, and he sent a long burst into a group of men starting to break for cover. “Three, no four down,” he shouted. “Get some!”

The bird banked hard right, and Sonny held on to the center support post to keep from sliding out. Without looking he knew Jimmy was breaking left. As they came level, Dave fired some short, quick bursts, and he heard what sounded like rocks smacking a tin can. “Taking fire,” Jackson announced in that dead calm voice.

“Not for long.” Dave fired three more bursts. “Two down by the shed.”

“Got three breaking for cover.” Gus opened fire, seeming to find his groove with short, measured bursts. “Make that three down.”

Sonny tried to focus on the chatter from the other bird, but it was all turning into a blur of flashes and barking machine guns. Then Moneybags slapped his arm, pointing down. Sonny nodded. We’re going in. He pulled off his headset and tossed it on the cargo floor. No one needed to talk now.

Jackson flared the Huey and settled the skids on cobblestones laid to form a courtyard. Sonny and Rico scrambled off, trying to keep pace with Moneybags and Hatchet, who were moving like flowing quicksilver as soon as their feet touched the ground. Then the bird was gone in a blast of wind and noise, leaving them on solid ground with God knows how many men trying to kill them.

As his ears stopped ringing, Sonny could hear the snap and whine of rounds going past him as he sprinted for cover. Somewhere in front of him Moneybags was triggering off short, precise bursts, and he was damned sure someone died with each one. But Sonny wasn’t in that league. He could lay down some suppressing fire as soon as he got to cover, but he knew the second the touched down that Moneybags and his men were several degrees above him when it came to firefights.

Ducking behind an ornamental brick wall surrounding the courtyard, he risked a quick look at the house. It looked like someone had picked up a movie set Southern mansion and plunked it down on an island in the middle of nowhere. Nothing about it fit, and right now it was getting shot to pieces by the door gunners on the two birds. He could see bodies scattered across the courtyard where men had been taken by surprise, but he could also hear men shouting orders over the thump of the Hueys and roar of the M-60s. Crawling low, he made it to Moneybags and tapped his shoulder. “Someone’s getting those bastards organized.”

“Yeah. I hear it. Sounds like at least two. One’s a dirty old NCO by his cussing.”

Sonny focused. “That would be the sergeant major. Pascal I think his name is.”

“Gordo Pascal.” There was a hint of familiarity and a lot of hate in Moneybags’ voice. “He’s a fucking dead man.” He raised a finger and Hatchet slid over. “That’s Gordo in there.”

The former Marine’s eyes went dark. “You sure?”

Moneybags nodded toward Sonny. “He says so.”

“He’s mine.”

Moneybags nodded, raising his hand radio. “We need to hit the house. I want an assault formation on the windows to the east of the main door. It looks like the weak spot. Castillo, have your people put suppression fire on the front door. Distract them.”

Randy’s voice echoed through the radio. “I’ll do more than distract. I brought a damned M-14.”

“Kill what you see.”

“Copy that.” The deep booms of 7.62 NATO started punching over the lighter 5.56 of Unit 8’s M-16s.

“Go!”

Sonny popped up over the wall, triggering short bursts in the direction of the front doors. He could sense Rico doing the same, and then watched as Moneybags and his men moved across the open ground. Dust kicked around them as bullets started tracking, only to be slapped back as Sonny and Rico started blasting at any muzzle flashes they saw. And Dave’s rifle boomed over it all. Sonny paused to reload, then felt his jaw go slack as he saw Castillo break cover and start moving with Delta.

Rico saw it at the same instant. “Fucking Marty’s going in!”

“Not without us!” Without thinking he was on his feet and moving, sending quick bursts at the windows and door to cover his own movement. Rico followed him, and in seconds they were pressed against the clapboard sides of the faux mansion, slamming fresh magazines into their smoking carbines.

One of the Hueys roared overhead, its door guns ripping splinters from the walls and shattering windows. Moneybags looked at his men. “Moving,” he barked.

Hatchet slung his carbine and hauled out a pump shotgun. “Go!”

Sonny had never seen men move so fast and with such purpose. One minute they were there and the next he heard gunshots blasting from the room on the other side of the window. The drills, the kill house, had been one thing. This was something different. Castillo moved right behind them, his big .44 ready in his hands. When Sonny and Rico cleared the window all they found were three bodies crumpled near the door. Somewhere deeper in the house a grenade exploded, followed by a rolling blast of gunfire and the booms of a shotgun. All he could hope to do was keep up.

 

Colonel Rodrigo Delacruz could feel sweat sliming the grips of his .45. Where had they come from? One minute he had been trying to raise Captain Salazar on the malfunctioning radios and the next his men were being cut down by accurate fire from old Hueys someone had painted black. And now they were under attack. Real attack by men whose skills were unlike any he had ever seen. He could hear Gordo shouting somewhere, trying to rally the men. But he could smell their panic in the air over the cordite. The unit, his unit, was falling apart.

A panicked private ran by, shouting they were overrun, and Rodrigo shot him between the shoulder blades. “Stand and fight! All cowards will be shot!” He looked around the big second story study he’d converted into his office, wondering where to go.

Another of those damned helicopters roared overhead, its door guns chattering. He heard screams and thuds as bullets tore into his men, cutting them down as they tried to return fire. And below, another grenade exploded with a dull whump. He’d only heard of one unit that could attack this way. But it wasn’t possible. His contact in the Agency would have warned him.

A corporal went to the window to look out, and his head vanished in a spray of blood and bone. The others ducked out of reflex. “Stay away from the windows!” one of them yelled. “They’re got a sniper out there!”

Looking around, fighting down his own panic, he found a sergeant. “Get more men to the stairwell! They can’t break through. Do you understand?” Wide-eyed, the man nodded and turned to carry out his orders. Somehow. If there were more men to get.

Rodrigo looked over at the two privates who made up his own escort. “Where are the other two? Never mind. It’s not like they can run anywhere. I’ll have them shot once this is over. We need to get to the sergeant major and rally the men.” His voice climbed to a scream. “We are Unidad Ocho! We make people panic! Now stop pissing your pants like little girls and act like men!”

None of this made sense. How had it happened? But he could still salvage things. The detail in the next room would be intact, and with those men he could reach Gordo and begin setting things right. A series of rapid booms sounded from the adjacent bedroom and then the study door crashed open.

 

Martin Castillo was wearing plain green fatigues, not unlike those he’d worn in Laos all those years ago. He’d peeled away from Moneybags and his men as soon as they cleared the room on the ground floor. Let them hunt the sergeant major and the others. He had bigger game in mind. Cut off the head and the snake dies. Especially if it’s a military-bred snake. He’d learned that years ago.

It had been a simple thing to get to the second floor and equally simply to kill the men trying to guard their commender. The big Smith & Wesson felt good in his hand as he kicked the door open and relished the look of fear on Rodrigo Delacruz’s face. There were two younger men with him, but Castillo saw the fear plastered across their faces and ignored them. “You never should have come to Miami.”

“And who are you to say that I can’t?”

“The man with a bigger message than yours.” Castillo had seen the .45 in Rodrigo’s hand, even as the man turned to hide it.

“You think so? My men will kill yours and continue with our business.”

“How? Your main contact is a cop. My cop. The Company gave you up. You have no friends, Rodrigo. Only death awaits you.”

“Not if I…”

Castillo brought the .44 magnum up in a single smooth motion. Rodrigo’s Colt was barely to chest height before the first massive slug tore a hole the size of a baseball in his chest. The second slug turned his head into a spray of bone and brains. He was dead before he hit the floor.

The privates started to react when pistols boomed behind him. The two men tumbled to the floor, each shot at least three times. Without turning he knew his men had caught up with him.

Castillo lowered his smoking pistol and looked behind him for Crockett and Tubbs. “Get those documents secured. Everything in the desk. I want it gone before Moneybags and his men arrive.”

 

Sonny looked from the headless body to Castillo and back. “You heard the man, Tubbs. Let’s get to it.”

As he rummaged through the desk, stuffing papers and files into his rucksack, Sonny tried not to look at the bodies. But it was hard not to. Gunfire still erupted in short bursts from inside the house, but they were getting more and more sporadic. Then there was a quick series of shotgun blasts, and the house went quiet except for echoes chasing each other through the halls and the thump of the two choppers.

Rico looked at his watch. “We gotta go.”

Castillo nodded, unclipping a grenade from his gear. “Stand back and cover your eyes.” The white phosphorus exploded with a white flash and started to burn the desk and everything around it. “Let’s go.”

Sonny cast a last glance at the body of Delacruz as the flames started to lick around it. So much death caused by one man. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Then Rico grabbed his arm. “Come on, Sonny! We gotta go!” He didn’t remember anything else until they were on the bird and it started climbing into the cool air and the clouds.

 

Sonny had managed to find himself again by the time they landed at the Coast Guard station. He wasn’t sure what had happened, and didn’t know if he wanted to know. Maybe it was some kind of Vietnam thing triggered by the Hueys. The air on the flight back was cool and clean, and the wind through the cabin washed the cordite stench from their clothes.

Moneybags had gone out on the other Huey, likely so he could talk to Castillo, and Sonny found himself next to Hatchet. The former Marine still clutched his shotgun, but there was a satisfied smile on his face. Sonny had to know. “Find your guy?”

“Yeah. He started blubbering, but four double ought twelve gauge shells have a way of making someone stop whining.”

“You knew him?”

Hatchet sat silent for a time, looking out at the blue water flashing by below them. “You see his file?”

“Some of it, yeah.”

“The girl he damned near killed? She was my girlfriend. Fucker beat her so bad she lost sight in one eye. And they covered it up and sent him on his way. She killed herself a year later. Just couldn’t deal with what had happened. And I was deployed so much I couldn’t do a damned thing.”

Sonny shook his head. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. Not now. That account’s closed for good.”

Sonny nodded, understanding just how the man felt. He’d had the same sense of empty closure when he shot Hackman. Knowing it was done combined with knowing it came too late to do any real good. But at least it kept the bastard from hurting anyone else. There’d been a lot of that on Isla de las Arenas Rojas that day.

They came in low again, slipping over a wire fence and touching down at one of the Coast Guard stations dotting the coast. Sonny guessed it must have been the staging area. As the Hueys wound down and the others went about gathering their gear and removing the guns for the birds, he found both Jimmy and Jackson and shook their hands. “You guys did great. And so did Gus and your other gunner. Payment will go to your accounts as soon as I get back to the office.”

Jackson shifted from one foot to the other and looked at Jimmy. “Hell, I can’t say it.”

Jimmy nodded. “Sonny, we want the other half to go to the Vet Center. You gave us a chance to do some good, and now we want to pay that forward.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. We all talked about it before we launched. So long as you clear our records…”

“Already done. And I can take care of the others, too, if you have anything outstanding.”

Gus shrugged. “Nothing I can’t man up to. But I’ll sleep a damned sight better knowing I cut down some of those bastards.”

Sonny nodded, feeling a lump growing in his throat. “You boys take care now, hear? And get those birds repainted before the militias think the UN is taking over.”

Jimmy laughed. “You got it. It was good working with you again, Sonny. You and your people take care, too.”

Not trusting his voice, Sonny nodded and turned away. Moneybags and his team were clustered close by, and it was Hatchet who spoke first. “That stripper who almost got beat to death? She was my girl. I already told Crockett, but the rest of you should know, too. No one let me square it back then, but I owe you now.”

Sonny shook his head. “Naw. It’s all good. Like I said in the air, I know how you felt.”

“They’ll need a baggie to send him home.” Hatchet grinned, and then his eyes got serious. “Still, man. I owe you.”

Moneybags stepped forward. “We all owe you, Crockett. You, your team, and Marty. This was a hell of an assignment. You all take care now, hear?”

“Yeah. You guys, too. I can’t say I’ve worked with better. You’re not gonna stick around for the debrief?”

“We’d like to, but places to go and all that shit. Slats and Red Ball are probably already off station.” Moneybags shook his head, his eyes suddenly tired. “It’s like you guys, brother. Always another mission.”

Toad spoke up. “But it’s not always a good one like this. We got to take out some seriously bad dudes, with no strings attached. Been a few years since I’ve been able to do that. I gotta say it feels good. Been a pleasure working with you.” He looked across the helipad and grinned. “Looks like our ride’s here.”

Sonny watched them team pile into a plain black van and drive away. He felt Castillo move next to him. “We’ll never see them again, but you should feel honored at having a chance to work with the best.”

“I do.” He smiled, then thought back to how he’d felt on the island. “And it also told me it’s time to go. I damned near froze up on that island, Marty. It was like I was moving through a fog. If a simple ride on a Huey does that to me…”

“I understand. I felt the same thing, but differently. Working with them was like working with my old team in Laos. I felt the thrill of the hunt. And that means it’s time to go.” He looked over at the Hueys starting to crank again. “We’ll talk more later. Let’s get back and see how the others did.”

“Yeah. There’s been no word…”

“Switek updated me on the flight back. The raids went as planned with no casualties on our side. The stiffest resistance came at Brick’s target location, but once the officer there was killed it went quickly.”

The ride back to Task Force headquarters was quiet, each man wrapped in his own thoughts and the smell of burned powder coming from the weapons. Castillo drove with Randy in the passenger seat, leaving Sonny, Dave, and Rico slumped in the back with the assorted gear bags and rucksacks. Sonny kept the one stuffed with documents close to his side. Dave looked like he was asleep, which wouldn’t surprise Sonny. He’d seen the deputy pop a couple of pain pills as soon as they’d touched down.

Rico hadn’t said much since they touched down, but now, slumped against the hot sheet metal side of the van, he let out a long sigh. “Damn! You feel like you just went twelve rounds with the champ and got your ass kicked in each round?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what it was, but that was worse than the firefight we had at Moncado’s place. Or even that tussle with Holmes and his rednecks.” Sonny shook his head. “Part of it was the ride in, I think. Felt like I was back in Nam half the time, and we didn’t ride Hueys that much.”

Rico nodded. “Yeah. Half the time I was thinking about Mindy. Hoping she was ok. Man, it’s…”

“We have things to lose now. And we know we do. That changes everything. Before…I never realized it until I lost them. But not now, partner.”

The others were waiting in the conference room when they lugged all the gear off the elevator. Mindy’s pale skin was streaked with burned powder, and Sonny thought he saw a scratch or two on Trudy’s face. But Stan and Lester were still beaming with excitement. Before anyone could start talking, Castillo spoke. “I want copies made of all documents we recovered. Distribute them as usual. We’ll turn the originals in to Chief Deputy Washington, but this is one mission we will need our insurance for. Make no mistake about that.”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah. The Company likes having other people handle its dirty laundry, but they also like cleaning that trail up from time to time.”

Mindy took the rucksack from Sonny and added it to her bag and the ones she’d taken from Trudy and Lester. “Trudy had the most, but that’s because Brick’s team hit the communications hub. Mine looked to be more of a safe house for the rank and file. Some hookers, lots of booze and guns, and not much else.”

Stan nodded. “Same here. Ours seemed a little more high-speed, but it might have had a higher concentration of guys who’d trained in the US. They had cameras and some short-range radio gear. I think they were the ones who were watching the hospital while Dave was laid up.”

“And where I’ll be laid up again.” Dave moved his arm and winced. “Think I popped some stitches or some shit.”

Randy chuckled. “Let’s go look at that, you damned mule. Couldn’t miss a firefight, could you?’

“Hell no.” But Dave got up and followed Randy to the bathroom.

Trudy looked around the room. “The one we hit was their Miami command post. No question. The had an officer there, a lieutenant. Seemed like a nasty customer. He was trying to rally the troops when I shot him.” She looked at Castillo. “There were no prisoners. He shot two who tried to give up.”

Sonny nodded. “We saw that on the island, too.”

“Was there any trouble from Metro-Dade?”

“No.” Trudy smiled. “Pete must have chewed on them good. I looked through the stuff we got from the first target, and I don’t think they had any other locations in Miami. They might own property, but they didn’t have enough trained men to staff more locations.”

“We’ll go through the documents tomorrow.” Castillo looked around the table. “As part of the process of closing down the Task Force. I had a message from Pete Washington waiting for me when we got back. They gave him the choice of retiring or accepting a promotion and transfer to DC. He’s going to retire and, in his words, ‘eat too much barbecue, drink too much good Southern whisky, and pretend to fish.’”

Sonny nodded. “Yeah. Anyone coming in after Pete would want to ‘change’ things.” He paused, looking around, “And after today I think I’m ready to call it a day. But first, let me call Robbie. We just shut down the worst crew we’ve ever gone after. That calls for a party, damn it.”

Castillo nodded. “I’ll let the Chief Deputy know.”

“And have him invite the warrant teams, too. Hell, we couldn’t have done this without them.”

 

In the end Robbie closed down the entire back half of The Sanctuary for the party. “Look, man, I don’t know what the hell you guys did, but it must be something important. And don’t worry about the bill. I got this.” He grinned. “Especially if you’re serious about getting out.”

“Yeah. I am.” Sonny looked out at his friends, seeing the smiles on their faces and hearing the laughter and good-natured joking. “The raid today…it really got in my head. Hueys and everything. I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone. I did, and it helped me.” Robbie raised a hand. “Yeah, I know big, bad Sonny Crockett don’t talk to no headshrinker. But this guy’s  a vet himself. He knows the score.”

Sonny started to protest, then stopped. Hell, he knew Robbie was right. “Give me his number. I’ll set something up as soon as he’s got an opening.” He looked out again, seeing Jenny’s smiling face as she spoke with Trudy and Mindy. “I owe it to her to get my head straight.”

“Things change when you have someone else to care about.” Robbie smiled. “Now let’s get out there and have a real celebration!”

Mindy had just broken the word of her upcoming wedding to Rico, and Stan and Randy were already asking if they could be bridesmaids and offering to help pick out his dress. Sonny laughed with them, taking a drink of his beer and them moving through the group to Gina. “I hear you’re taking the job with the House,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. Jenny and Angie are hard to say no to when they get an idea in their heads.” She paused. “And it really seems like time for a change.”

“Yeah. You can only stay on that side of the badge for so long.”

She nodded. “Is it true the Task Force is disbanding? I heard Marty and Pete talking about that.”

“Looks like it.”

“You know Stan won’t go back to Metro-Dade.”

“And he doesn’t need to. Gina, I’ve never been more blind about someone in my life than I was about Stan. He and Lester can do anything they want. Stan’s a hell of a leader, he’s smart as hell, and there isn’t an ounce of quit in him. Metro-Dade doesn’t deserve him.”

She nodded, blinking back tears. “I…”

“Just enjoy the night, Gina. And maybe help them pick out Rico’s dress. I don’t think he’d look good in Hawaiian print.”

He found his partner over by the bar, ordering another Scotch and looking like he needed a moment of quiet. “Looks like you got the bridesmaids settled.”

“Yeah. I am tempted to go in drag, though. Just to make those chumps do the same thing.” Rico’s smile was thin.

“You should be happy, partner.”

“I am, Sonny. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. But when the Task Force goes…”

“Caitlin’s House is going to need a head of security. You know the past likes to come back on those girls. I want someone who will make them feel safe and keep them safe. And we both know what that takes sometimes. I won’t always be around to do it, and I want someone I can trust.”

“Sonny…I…”

“Talk about it with Mindy first.” He gestured toward the beautiful redhead with his beer bottle. “You gotta share now, Rico.”

He stayed by the bar once his partner moved away, content to just watch the people he cared about enjoy themselves. It might be the last time they got together as a group, and he wanted the image engraved on his mind. He was so intent he didn’t notice Jenny until she spoke. “I’m sad, too, Sonny.”

He looked down. She was beautiful in a deep blue silk dress hugging her firm body like it had been painted on. Her heels brought her eyes almost even with his, and he could see the sparkle and realized the silk matched her eyes perfectly. “Yeah, but it’s time.”

“Yes. I could see it on you when you came home. You can’t look after them forever.”

“But I can try. I offered Rico the security job. Marty…he’ll retire with Trudy to the beach and be happy. I’ll keep an eye on Stan and Lester through Gina, and Dave and Randy will probably go home. They keep talking about missing mountains, so it’s only a matter of time.”

“What about you?”

“I’ve got you. And…” He paused, then plowed ahead. “Robbie gave me a number. Someone to talk to about Nam. That mission today…I almost froze up. It…”

“I’m glad. That place still haunts you. I want to help, but you need to talk to someone who understands.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed him. “I’m so proud you decided to take that step. It’s not easy.”

“No. It’s not. But I gotta be solid. For you. And I can’t do that if I’m not solid with myself.” He grinned and raised his bottle in Robbie’s direction. “Bastard was right again.”

“Should we go back down?”

“In a minute. Right now I just want to stand here with you.” He slipped his arm around her, feeling her press in against him.

“This is when I’m happiest.”

“Me too, darlin’. Me too.” He smiled, realizing it was true. He could feel a page turning in his heart, closing one book and opening a new one. And for the first time in years, Sonny Crockett was looking forward to the ride.