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Chapter 15
Just after the sleek silver jet landed, Brady and the team hauled their cargo out of the hangar. He was pleasantly surprised they had procured something so nice. He figured it was a corporate charter, used mainly for government officials to travel on fact-finding missions or for negotiations outside of the country. Except for the lack of food and entertainment, it was going to deliver a sweet ride for them. It wasn’t their usual bucket of bolts—those green slugs they’d gotten used to when they were active.
“Well, I, for one, am damn happy my insides aren’t going to get jumbled this time,” said Riley. “How the hell did you manage this, Brady?”
“I said I’d take care of you, right? You didn’t believe me.”
Behind them, Brady could hear the comments, everything from “sweet” to “Hoo yah!” and “fucking yeah.” Brady knew that this was going to be the last piece of comfort they’d probably see until the mission was over.
As soon as the engine shut down, the ramp was lowered, and both pilots ran down the gangway to greet the group and help load the cargo.
“I’m your pilot, Ernie, and this here is Roger,” he said as he shook Brady’s hand.
“Nice to see you fellas. Man, we really scored on this one. Is this your normal ride?”
Ernie chuckled as he continued with his hand shaking, turning to address Brady. “And this is a need-to-know, secret operation. Just like we don’t give our last names. We just go where they tell us to go. And when they say we got some Navy SEALs and former Marine snipers on a special mission going in at midnight, well, that’s just what comes with the job,” he added.
Riley leaned into Brady, whispering, “They use these guys for shipping out migrants in the middle of the night too. And to take senators to The Bahamas. I’m thinking they switched it out. Otherwise, we would’ve gotten our normal big green belly flopper, right?”
“You’re probably right, Riley. But man, I’m thanking my lucky stars. And I’m going to make sure Charlie knows it.”
The gear was loaded through the cargo hold and then locked. The pilots re-entered the plane and Brady’s team followed behind. Forty leather seats that reclined six ways to Sunday faced them, each row with two on one side and a single seat on the other. Ernie barked at them from the cockpit, “Head’s up front here, nothing in the back. You all get yourself situated, because I got a deadline, and we’re going to arrive there about ten after midnight, well before dawn.”
“Roger that,” Brady answered, as did several others.
The navigator tested the comms and then informed the group they would be flying low to try to not get flagged once they crossed the border into Mexico.
Brady sat his computer case on the seat up front at the bulkhead but leaned inside the cockpit to ask Ernie a question. “We were originally supposed to do a HALO jump, but I can see with this rig that’s been ruled out?”
“That’s affirmative.”
“We’re going for the runway at the old Naval port, the V.I.P. treatment then?” he asked.
“We got a favorable weather report. Looks like it’s going to be clear and no storms headed that way. So yes, we should be able to land without problem. I’ve got all the instruments I need in case it is overcast, but we’re good to go. And with a full moon, we got help from heaven.”
Brady thanked him and resumed his seat, strapping in.
They were wheels up in a manner of seconds after being given clearance. Since no one else was on the tarmac this evening, approval was fast, and they were on their way and in the air before most of the team got their stuff situated.
Brady adjusted seat, which had a foot rest at the bottom he was grateful for, and tried to get himself comfortable for a cat nap while they flew to their destination. It would take less than an hour. He turned to the other side of the aisle where Riley had taken the single seat across from him and said, “Don’t get too comfortable over there. It’s a short flight. That’s about fifty-five minutes.”
“Roger that. I can do a power nap,” Riley said.
The next thing Brady knew he was rousted from a deep sleep as they were doing a steep descent, traveling over land with very few lights below, indicating it was rural territory and not well-populated. Out of his window, Brady saw the glow of San Philippe in the distance. The plane began to finish its descent well before the lights came anywhere close to them. He could see the splash of runway they were using, which was potholed and bumpy as hell, but shiny and appeared to be wet from a recent rain.
As they touched down and bounced about three times, they passed two white vans idling by, with one driver standing on the outside of each. The plane turned at the end of the short runway and taxied back toward the vans. After the engines were shut down, the whole team scrambled into action. Again, the pilots helped with the baggage removal, and in less than ten minutes, everything was loaded into the vans.
Brady gave the pilots a salute as they headed back toward the jet.
One of the van drivers greeted them. “We’re going to take you to the airport, but we’ll be leaving one of the vans with you for your use.”
“Welcome to Mexico. Glad to have you aboard,” said the other driver in near-perfect English.
Brady waved to the pilots as they flew past into the night sky. It was about one of the easiest insertions he’d ever experienced.
So far so good, he thought.
The ride to San Felipe airport was nearly as long as their flight time. They were still early enough there wasn’t even the hint of a sunrise on the horizon, but the dark blue sky was beginning to pale. Brady texted Charlie to let her know they’d made connection with the drivers and the flight had gotten them there safe. She texted back a thumbs-up emoji.
