Page 50 of Operation: Silent Angel
Yvette leaned her head back against the van wall and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and mentally returned to the Jungle Pool, floating in the cool water. She knew many of the Operators meditated before an Op but for her, meditating after seemed more appropriate, at least when working in Ops. Here and now, it was no different.
The ride was hot, bumpy, and took way longer than Yvette would have liked it to. Thankfully, Ruiz shut up. Had she had to listen to his voice any longer she would have sedated him again, which she was sure was a move everyone would agree with.
They pulled off-road for the last leg of the drive to the dirt airstrip, and the rugged terrain made the ride even more uncomfortable as they were tossed about. By the time the vehicle stopped, and Yvette climbed out, she was relieved to be standing in the stillness of the early evening and no longer confined to the van. The van had not been air conditioned well, but it had some AC compared to the full heat and humidity of the air, but even so, she was thankful to be out of the van.
By the expressions on the faces of the others, they felt the same. They left Ruiz sitting on the edge of the van’s side-door, as several of the team moved the bags right behind him to be easily grabbed when the plane landed. It would be on the ground for less than ten minutes before it had to take back off.
One of the DEA agents received a text message indicating the plane was fifteen minutes out. All was on schedule.
The team watched the tiny speck, low in the sky, grow larger until it was big enough to discern that it was a plane. It approached from the darkening northeast. The last rays of the descending western sun sparkling against the white hull with vibrant yellows and oranges.
The older model Gulfstream G500 got closer. Its rough engine sounds gave Yvette her first inkling of the overall condition of the aircraft. “Is that what you flew in on?” she asked Madison, who stood beside her.
“Yep, we sure did. I’ve been on worse.”
“Me too, but not in many years,” Yvette replied, not so fond memories going through her thoughts.
It landed and taxied towards them, the shadows cast from the plane on the ground long and dark. Mac glanced behind, back towards the direction they’d come up the dirt trail that masqueraded as a road. All looked quiet.
The door into the plane popped open and lowered to create three stairs, to climb to gain entrance into the craft. Mac pointed to Ruiz. “Make yourself helpful and grab a bag or two,” he said when Ruiz stepped away from the van empty handed.
A single man descended the stairs. He strode over to them with purpose. He had a lean, cut form filling out his worn blue jeans, with a plaid shirt atop and open displaying a black tank top. The shadows cast by the setting sun shaded his face. It was only after he reached them that they saw his longish hair was peppered with gray to match the crinkled edges around his eyes and bracketing his lips. But what stood out the most was the diagonal scar on his forehead.
“Which of you is Makris?” he asked.
“That’s me,” Mac volunteered, eying him suspiciously.
“I’m taking Ruiz from here,” he announced.
“We’re all getting on that plane,” Mac said.
“He’s not,” the man, who they’d all figured out was Walter Dyer said, pointing at Ruiz.
“What authority do you have to take him?” Cooper asked.
Dyer grinned an incredulous smile. “On the authority God gives me as a father for retribution against the man who tried to rape my daughter. On the authority granted me by Bella Sanguino’s father, to act in his place, for retribution for trafficking hisdaughter. I know of the deal the Agency made this piece of shit. No, he doesn’t get a sweetheart deal,” Dyer said. In one fluid motion, he pulled the black P226 9mm from the holster at the small of his back and with no delay, he shot one round, striking Ruiz in the middle of his forehead. Ruiz dropped the bags in his hands before face-planting into the dirt just as all the Shepherd Security Team yelled, “Gun!” and drew their own handguns from their concealed holsters, their aim on Dyer.
“Stand down, everyone,” Cooper ordered. He kept his weapon trained on Dyer. “Get ‘em up!” he commanded Dyer.
Dyer raised his hands into the air, now holding his 9mm in a way that would not easily allow him to fire it. “I’m not a threat to any of you. He was the one I needed to eliminate. Mission accomplished.”
“Get the plane loaded,” Cooper barked to the others. “Re-holster that weapon,” he told Dyer. Once it was, he and Mac stepped over to Dyer. “I get it. My adopted daughter was being trafficked when we found her. I still want to kill all the motherfuckers responsible for the conditions we found her and the others in that day.”
“Trust me when I tell you none of us care that Ruiz met his end, but we still don’t have one hundred percent confirmation on everything he told us, and I’m not sure he told us everything,” Mac said.
“The possible lost opportunity is worth it in my book. You've got the major players. For now, that win will suffice,” Dyer said. He offered Cooper his hand and then Mac after he and Coopershook. “I’m catching a ride with them,” he said, pointing to the van. “To see my daughter and Bella and to help get her back to Colombia. Thank you for what you did to help them. My daughter and Moreno filled me in. For the record, I was already on the passenger list to come here to meet up with Christy and Moreno. We’re on the same side, you know.”
Mac doubted that. His side wanted Ruiz to stand trial for his many crimes. His side wanted more info out of Ruiz. He wanted to follow up on every last lead, every last person in Ruiz’s network. As Dyer had just proven, he only wanted Ruiz dead, which he now was. And dead men didn’t give up any info.
Mac and Cooper returned to the van and grabbed hold of the last of the bags. They headed to the plane where Yvette, Garcia, and Lambchop were the last of the team, waiting to get on board. Garcia and Lambchop stood ready to do whatever would be needed if Dyer turned out to be a threat. When Mac and Cooper arrived, they picked the bags back up and carried them onto the plane.
Cooper nodded at Yvette to board ahead of them. She mounted the steep steps and crawled inside the dated, but clean aircraft. She acknowledged the two pilots in the cockpit and then went aft. Regular passenger seating was arranged with one seat, aisle, two seats with open shelves above the seats. It looked as though doors had once been in place, like on regular passenger aircraft. Those doors were long gone. She counted seven rows, putting the seating capacity at twenty-one. Aft of the seats was a cargo area where Mother and Roth were arranging and tying down their bags. Garcia and Lambchop joined them.
She checked under the seats, and there was enough space for her backpack under there. She’d keep it with her. She passed Briana seated in the first passenger seat with two seats. She assumed Roth would join her. Behind her was one of the two women who’d been with Ruiz. The other was in the single seat opposite her. Madison was in the third double seat waiting for Cooper. Mother’s backpack sat on the fourth double seat. Laura Lee sat in the single seat opposite. Her belt was already fastened, and her head rested against the fuselage.
Yvette slid into the fifth double seat. The two men behind her passed her and brought the bags they carried to the cargo area. A few moments later, Cooper, Roth, and Mother made their way forward and took their seats. Mac slid into the seat beside her. She still stood. She saw Garcia take the double seat behind her, with Lambchop taking the last double seat. She sat and fastened her seatbelt.
One of the pilots had closed the door of the aircraft. Seeing everyone was in their seats and the cargo was secure; he returned to the cockpit and closed the door. Seconds later, the aircraft executed a turn and lined up on the dirt runway. The speed increased as it barreled down the airstrip. Right before the weeds swallowed up the dirt landing strip, the plane lifted from the ground and shot upward, into the darkened sky.
