Chapter 17

Feeling slightly ridiculous, Luke lay flat on the roof of the family complex. It was located in the Residential sector in the northeast quadrant. He rested his elbow on a sandbag and sighted the truck parking lot through his scope. He saw Martin in a patrol car, waiting for Mateo De Toro, but didn’t see the other Security guys. Good; they were hidden.

Luke knew that Mateo was on his way. Martin had two army buddies following him from Delgado’s. Mateo and the driver — just the two of them, just as they had planned for.

It was almost two in the afternoon, and Luke was looking at the parking area which was to the southwest. The sun was facing him, but it wasn’t that bright. He didn’t have any choice, not tactically. The Stillman complex was on a small rise in the flat landscape. And, he had some added elevation because he was on the roof. He was on the highest point in this part of Four Corners.

Claire and Willow were downstairs; they would stay inside until the action played out. Surprise was on Martin’s side; the Stillmans had paid Delgado his whore-money every Friday afternoon for months. But, this was the first time that Mateo De Toro himself had come to collect.

He was Delgado’s number two, but of more concern was his reputed quickness. And accuracy. Word on the street was that while he was a teenager now, he had been killing for over ten years. No misses, no arrests, no witnesses.

Yet, Luke felt reasonably confident. The exchange was on his turf. Martin and the two soldiers he’d selected weren’t exactly rookies. The three of them had seen more combat than Mateo could imagine.

Still.

Luke and Martin’s cell phone pinged at the same time, “He’s a mile out, ETA five minutes to the light.”

Luke willed his breathing to a slow, steady rate. His pulse was at a comfortable 50.

There. The black SUV with tinted windows was three cars back at the light. Two minutes later, it pulled into an almost empty section of the lot and De Toro rolled his window down. The driver kept the engine idling.

Luke watched through the scope — fantastic details, but a limited diameter of vision.

Martin got out of the patrol car, stretched, looked around, reached back in for the envelope, and strolled toward Mateo. Luke let his breath out, then held it.

Martin held out the envelope in his left hand and simultaneously whipped his Glock to the side of Mateo’s head. Martin’t two soldiers appeared like ghosts on the driver’s side, two Glocks jammed against the window glass.

This was the moment. If the driver hit the gas, bullets would fly. Mateo and the driver would be dead, but the SUV ... who knew?

Mateo looked evenly at Martin, “Not cool, hombre, not cool at all.”

“Tell him to turn off the engine.”

Luke put down his rifle and watched the rest of the scene unfold through M22 binoculars. Another soldier joined Martin and they walked Mateo to the stockade without flashing guns, without using handcuffs, without drawing much civilian attention. The driver was equally docile.

Luke went downstairs, “They got ‘em.”

Claire, “And now it begins.”