For the next two days, I spent much of my time getting acclimated with the Minty Urbach PSG-1 sniper rifle I'd be using during the assault. Sighting through the Leupold Mark 4 scope, I couldn't miss targets a half mile away. Of course, the targets weren't moving around or shooting back. At Tampico, all hell would break loose as soon as I fired the first shot.
Ron Garrett worked with Cole Thornton on the Colt M-16 Machinegun, showing him how to fire short burst and walk the bullets into the target zone. Cole took to the automatic weapon like a duck to water. With his muscular build, Cole was quite capable of handling the heavyweight weapon for long periods of time with great accuracy. Even Ron was surprised at how well his protégé was doing.
The tropical storm had worked its way north, passing through Tampico but stalling out over Monterrey, one-hundred and fifty miles south of us. Ron monitored the weather radar screens whenever he got a free moment. Cole and I monitored each other, sharing sexual pleasures to relieve the tension! We weren't getting much rest but we certainly weren't complaining.
Tuesday morning, the storm dissipated as it passed through Laredo. The three of us packed up Ron's Hummer, "Black Max" with everything we needed, including medical supplies, dried food and plenty of water. Garrett stowed three large aluminum cases under a tarp behind the back seat of the SUV. I wasn't sure what they contained but I knew it was something special that he was planning on using. I just hoped it wasn't something still in its experimental stages.
As soon as the sun set, the three of us left the Garrett Ranch. Ron was driving, heading for a place he'd picked out to cross the border into Mexico. We traversed the Rio Grande where it narrowed and ran shallow for almost a half mile. Picking up a secondary road, Ron followed it south until we picked up Highway 85. Kicking up the speed, Black Max sped towards Monterrey. Traffic was almost nonexistent, sharing the road with only a few semis and an old bus
Garrett bypassed Monterrey, trying to avoid the Policia as much as possible. Black Max would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the other vehicles on the road. Checking my watch, I tried to calculate how much longer it would take us to reach our destination. There weren't any mile markers to go by, making it difficult for me to figure out exactly where we were. I was smoking one cigarette after another, trying to calm my nerves but all I was getting was a headache.
Stretching out on the backseat, I grabbed a nap, waking occasionally to look out the window. The moonlight illuminated the countryside and the road ahead. Ron and Cole chatted about the Hummer, more to pass the time away than anything. Villages along the highway were quite small, a half-dozen buildings at most, with very few lights burning.
At Ciudad Victoria Garrett pulled into an old rundown gas station that just had two pumps. I was dying to get out and stretch my legs but Ron ordered Cole and me to stay in the Hummer. I wasn't sure why but I didn't dare ask. Ron topped off both fuel tanks then hopped back in the vehicle without making any effort to pay anyone for the gas. Since he was so nonchalant about it, I wondered if the owner of the gas station might be one of his Mexican contacts.
Back on the road, Garrett drove another fifty miles or so before changing highways, turning us southeast towards Tampico. Thirty miles down the road, he changed highways again. Highway 80 was long and straight, passing through the desert and crossing over several railroad tracks. Clouds blocked out much of the moonlight, making the landscape difficult to see.
It was early morning when we turned onto the gravel road towards Tampico. Rocks, kicked up by the oversize off-road tires, bounced noisily off the floorboards of the Hummer. Garrett slowed the vehicle, switching off the headlights. We drove for a mile or so in the dark before pulling off the road and heading cross-country. A deep, rocky ravine hindered our path but it didn't make much difference. Across the ravine and down in a shallow valley I saw the hacienda that I'd looked at so many times in the aerial photographs. It was Ground Zero! The Kill Zone!
None of us said a word. Exiting the Hummer, I made a run for a patch of tall, pipe-organ cactus to relieve myself. Ron and Cole made last minute checks on the guns while I took out a pair of night vision binoculars and crossed the ravine. Looking down at the hacienda I saw electric lights illuminating the house, which were powered by a generator sheltered in a building about thirty yards from the house. A late model Suburban and a Ford pick-up were parked near the house. Other than a few dead trees and another small storage building, the hacienda was completely out in the open.
I reported what I'd seen to Ron and Cole so we could finalize our plans. Since the downhill slope of the valley was heavily covered with cactus and rock we decided it best to get as close to our targets as possible. I'd position myself directly in front of the hacienda with Cole about thirty yards to my right with the Colt machinegun. Ron would be to my left, about twenty yards away, with the weapons he'd brought along for himself.
It wasn't until then that I realized Garrett had brought shoulder-fired rocket launchers, the Browning Automatic Rifle and his favorite Colt handgun. He was prepared for World War Three!
"Nobody does anything until I fire the first shot." I declared, putting on my radio headset. "Let me take out one of the agents first. That'll leave just one more we have to take out."
"I'll cover the outbuildings and the rear of the house with the rockets." Ron asserted. "That'll keep everyone close-quartered so they can't scatter."
"I'll take out the Suburban and the pick-up." Colt affirmed. "That'll keep anyone from escaping."
"Just make sure you both keep your cover." I warned. "I don't want either of you getting hurt, let alone killed."
"You worried about us." Garrett laughed, checking his headset.
"Yes, I am." I confessed. "I want all of us get through this and back across the border."
We separated at the Hummer with each of us taking up our positions on the downhill slope. We had an hour or better to kill before sunrise. Checking my Minty Urbach sniper rifle over one last time, I laid out ten cartridges on a cloth, spacing them equally apart. I wanted to be able to grab the ammo quickly without having to fumble for it.
"Hey Jennifer!" Cole called out on his headset radio. "You never did say how you felt about me."
"You sure you really wanna know?" I laughed into the headset. "You might be disappointed."
"I'd like to hear how you feel about him." Garrett chimed in from his position off to my left. "Good or bad, it'd give me something to think about besides this cramp in my leg."
"What would you like me to say?" I asked. "You want me to tell you that I love you?"
"No. I know you don't love me." Cole answered. "I'd like to hear you say you cared about me though."
"But only if you really mean it." He added. "I wouldn't want you to lie just to make me happy."
"Yeah Jennifer!" Garrett spoke up with a laugh. "Don't feed the gay guy a bunch of lies just to boost his ego."
"Damn it!" I exclaimed, raising my voice. "Cole's not gay!"
That was the last thing I was going to say no matter how hard either of them coaxed and coerced me. I wanted to concentrate fully on the matter at hand and not be sidetracked by divulging my personal feelings about Cole.
With the morning sun rising up at our backs, we could see some activity inside the house. The front door opened and a man stepped out onto the front porch. Having memorized the pictures of the two agents, I knew the Hispanic man wasn't one of them.
"Wait. Wait." I whispered into my headset. "Everyone sit tight."
