Page 73 of Ground Truth

The sun was high and bright now. Hedinger pulled sunglasses from the pocket of his shooting jacket and slipped them over his eyes. The polarized lenses allowed him to see the two members of his inside security team clearly as they approached.

Bauer stopped five feet from Hedinger.

Schmid took his cues from his boss and stopped as well.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Schmid said directly to Hedinger.

The noisy jet engines were running behind him. With the damage to his hearing in his right ear after the shotgun blasts, Hedinger could barely hear the question.

Schmid shifted his feet and clasped his hands behind his back, waiting. Bauer stood a respectful distance to Schmid’s left.

Hedinger said, “You know Mario, don’t you, Schmid? The Italian boy?”

Schmid replied, “Yes, sir. I do.”

“Mario tells me you allowed him to bring a woman onto Atabei without proper permission. Mario says you’ve done this before. For him and for others,” Hedinger said, looking directly into Schmid’s face, watching his eyes. “Is this true?”

Schmid flinched. He glanced toward the pavement. He cleared his throat.

Hedinger didn’t need to hear the response. He knew the answer. His evidence was still on the ground at the skeet field.

“Do you have your pistol, Schmid?” Hedinger held out his right hand, palm up.

Schmid pulled the pistol from its holster and passed it to Hedinger with the grip extended.

Hedinger took the gun, gripped it tightly. He continued to look Schmid directly in the eyes. He wondered briefly whether Schmid would offer excuses or ask for forgiveness.

He did neither.

He simply stood ramrod straight, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him.

Knowing.

Waiting.

Hedinger raised the pistol and fired one shot directly into Schmid’s forehead.

Hedinger handed the pistol to Bauer.

“No one. Absolutely no one enters Atabei without my permission. Remind your team of the rules,” he demanded, shifting his steady gaze to the senior command officer.

“Understood,” Bauer said.

Hedinger gave a quick nod before he turned and climbed the stairs into the cabin of the jet.

-

Chapter 37

Miami

Predawn temperatures in Miami were pleasant enough. The day would become hot and muggy by midafternoon, but Flint didn’t need to worry about that now.

“So far, so good,” Drake muttered quietly but loud enough for Flint to hear.

“Get in. Get out. Nobody gets hurt,” Flint reminded him tersely. “No heroics. No vengeance.”

The Bombardier Dash 8 was warming up at their outdoor gate as the ground crew prepared the bird for flight. An easy breeze blew in from the Atlantic moving the fuel fumes away from the boarding area.

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