The Devil’s Share (12 page)

“I had no idea what you were,” she said. “Until you walked in that door.”

“Don't pay any attention to him,” Hicks said. “He's a smartass. You'll get used to it.”

Sandoval grinned, drank beer.

She leaned over the map and traced a finger north along the highway.

“Hicks and I have been over this,” she said. “But the rest of you need to know the setup. Three of you”—she pointed at Keegan, McBride, and Chance—“will be in a car hidden back in these hills. We'll have a truck stashed there, too, a clean one. We can talk about the division of labor later, but it'll be Bobby doing most of the driving. Hicks and Sandoval and I will be here”—she pointed at where the boulder was marked—“out of sight. That's where we'll stop the convoy. You three will come up the rear in the car. We get the guards and drivers under control, check the truck to make sure what we came for is in there. Then Bobby turns it around, drives it back to where the other truck's hidden, and the three of you transfer the cargo as quick as you can.”

“Why not just bring the clean truck up in the first place?” Sandoval said. “Save some driving?”

“We don't want too many vehicles on the road at once,” she said. “If we're all getting in each other's way, it raises the chances of something going wrong. This way's cleaner, simpler. Also, we don't know how long it'll take to transfer the cargo, even with forklifts. So it's better that's done out of sight, back up in those rocks. If we try to load up here, where we stopped them”—she touched the map—“it increases our exposure. Too many vehicles, too many people, too much time.”

“What's the ground like back there?” Sandoval said. “Will it handle those trucks? You don't want them getting stuck.”

She nodded at him. He was asking the right questions.

“Solid rock,” she said. “I've already checked. Shouldn't be a problem with the truck, or the forklifts, getting stuck. After we load the clean truck, we camouflage the old one as best we can.”

“Only five men to be dealt with,” Keegan said. “We're sure of that?”

“If that changes, we'll know in advance,” she said. “But we'll need to contain those five as quickly as possible. No fuss, no drama. We get them out of their vehicles and zip-tied quick as we can, move them behind the boulder, out of sight of the road. That way the area's clear if another car comes along before we're done.”

“We'll have to move fast,” Hicks said. “But dealing with civilians, that can be an issue.”

“That'll be your job,” she said. “Keep them calm, keep them quiet, but keep them scared.”

“That's what you want the ordnance for,” Sandoval said.

“Right,” she said. “I don't want any of those five men even thinking about going cowboy. The guards will be armed, so they'll be the first priority. Handguns only, but still, we'll need to neutralize them as quickly as possible, get them disarmed and tied up. We get the guards under control, the civilians will follow.”

“If we're lucky,” Keegan said.

“We'll have speed on our side,” she said. “By the time they realize what happened, we'll be out of there.”

McBride leaned over, touched the map. “This mark here?”

“Cell tower,” she said.

Keegan looked at her. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Hicks said. “I'll take care of that.”

“Those people,” Chance said. “We just leave them there?”

“When that tower goes off-line,” she said, “it'll set off an alarm at the central office. They'll send somebody out quick. But as remote as this is, it'll take them at least twenty minutes, probably longer, to get there. They'll find the men. We'll be long gone.”

She lifted her bottle, drank. The beer was cold and smooth, soothed her throat. She watched their faces, waiting for their response.

“Son of a bitch,” Sandoval said, still looking at the map.

“We still have to gather all the equipment,” she said to Hicks. “Your end.”

“In a day or so, we'll have a house,” he said. “Empty and out of sight, but room enough for everybody. We'll use that as our staging area. Everyone stays there. We run through the whole thing as many times as we have to, so everybody knows what they're doing. Come the day, we don't want anyone fucking around out there while the clock's ticking.”

“If there's any fecking around,” McBride said, “it won't be on our part. Know that.”

Hicks looked at him. “Another country heard from.”

“Rest assured,” Keegan said. “That won't be an issue.”

“Nothing personal,” Hicks said. “I'm just saying.”

“As am I,” Keegan said.

“What about the money?” she said.

“He's working on that,” Hicks said. “He'll have something for you soon. Next day or so.”

“Sooner the better,” Chance said. “We're running out of time.”

Hicks looked at him. “I don't think you'll need to worry about that, slick.”

“I'm not worried,
slick,
” Chance said. “Like the Irishman says, you just keep up your part of the deal.”

“I'll make sure everyone gets their money,” she said. It was time to stop this before it went further. “Like I said, my responsibility.”

Hicks drank beer, looked at Chance. He didn't look away.

“Let's wrap this up,” she said. To Hicks, she said, “You have my new cell. Call me when the wire transfers go through.”

“I will.”

She looked around the table. “Anybody have any other questions need to be answered this minute?”

Keegan shook his head. McBride chewed a thumb.

“I'll be in touch tomorrow,” Hicks said. He stood, put his half-empty bottle on the table. Sandoval did the same. As Hicks moved behind her, he brushed fingertips across her shoulder. She stiffened. Chance looked at her.

“Hang on,” she said, and got to her feet. “I'll walk you out.”

Outside in the sunlight, she said, “Hold up a minute.”

Hicks unlocked the SUV with the remote, turned to her. “What is it?”

Sandoval looked at them, then opened the passenger door, climbed up into the seat, left the door open.

She kept her voice low. “Don't be playing any games here.”

“What games?”

“You know what I'm talking about. I need you to be professional, with me and with them.” She nodded at the cabin door.

“You think I haven't been?”

“Like I said on the phone, what happened between us is one thing. This, what's going on right here, is something else.”

“You done?”

She took a step away, watched him. “Yeah, I'm done.”

“Feel better?”

“That's got nothing to do with it.”

“Whatever,” he said, and started for the SUV again.

“Don't do anything stupid,” she said to his back, “and fuck this up.”

He turned back to her.

“Honey,” he said. “I'm not the one we need to worry about.”

 

TWELVE

The furnished house was twenty miles from Vegas, in a development of modest homes and cul-de-sacs. It was a bedroom community, all the houses built in the last ten years, but there were vacant lots on the block. Other houses were finished but unoccupied, manufacturer's stickers still on the windows.

She and Chance had their own rooms upstairs. Keegan and McBride shared one down the hall. Hicks and Sandoval slept on the ground floor, Hicks in a side bedroom, Sandoval on the couch.

The house gave them more room, more privacy, than a motel could offer. It had an oversized garage, and a big backyard with an in-ground pool, empty now, and a high wooden fence. At night, the city was a bright glow in the distance.

On the second day, Hicks called them into the dining room, set two heavy black tactical bags on the table.

“We should go over all this now,” he said. “So you all know what you're dealing with when the time comes.”

He unzipped the bags, began to lay weapons out on the table. Four short-barreled automatic rifles, three handguns, a silver and black riot shotgun. It was the first time she'd seen them. She was used to being in on every step of the planning, the financing, the equipment. But they were in Hicks's realm of expertise now. It was better for the job, better for the team, if she let him take the reins on what he knew best.

Sandoval looked at the guns, gave a low whistle. He wore a white strap T-shirt, a gold cross on a chain. On the back of his right shoulder was the same tattoo she'd seen on Hicks that night at the motel, a grinning skull, fangs.

The rifles were flat black, with curved magazines. She picked one up. It was lighter than she'd expected, with an adjustable stock and a knurled grip beneath the barrel that made it easier to handle.

“Sweet, isn't it?” Hicks said. “Heckler and Koch 416. It's what the SEAL teams use.”

Guns meant little to her. They were just tools. “It's small.”

“Yeah, it's a carbine model,” he said. “Another miracle of German engineering. Like the Volvo.”

“Volvos are Swedish,” she said.

“Whatever. That switch right there is the safety. And the one on the side here is the magazine release. Twenty-round mag, five-five-six ammo. Round hits like a freight train, even with a suppressor cutting muzzle velocity.”

McBride picked up another of the rifles, ejected the magazine. It was empty. He fit it back into the receiver, slapped it home, worked the bolt left-handed.

“Know how to handle one of those?” Hicks said.

“I've dabbled, now and then,” McBride said. “At the range, you know.”

“Paper targets don't shoot back.”

“Neither do people,” McBride said. “If you shoot them first.”

Chance looked at Hicks, said, “You don't think we're going to need all these, do you?”

“No,” Hicks said. “But I want you all to get familiar with them. When we're out there, everyone should look like they know what they're doing. Might be the difference between someone behaving, doing what they're told, and trying to rush you, thinking they can take your weapon away.”

She stepped back from the table, lifted the rifle to her shoulder, tucked the butt in tight. Keegan looked amused.

“You wanted something that would intimidate,” Hicks said. “That should do it.”

“Intimidated a few
hajjis
back in the day,” Sandoval said. “It's the conversation piece that ends the conversation.”

“You can go ahead and adjust that stock,” Hicks said. “Make it more comfortable.”

“It's fine.” She lowered the rifle. “What's this thing on top?” A small black cylinder was mounted over the barrel.

“Laser sight,” Hicks said. “Can't really see it in the daytime, or I'd show you. But we're not going to need it anyway. Go ahead and clear the chamber, then drop the mag.”

She did, slipped the safety on, put the rifle back on the table, the empty magazine beside it.

“How's it feel?” he said.

“Manageable. But like you said, it's the appearance that counts.”

“The suppressors make them even scarier. People see those, they know you're not fucking around.”

“As far as that,” Keegan said, “I'll stay with what I know.” He picked up the shotgun, looked it over.

“Remington 870,” Hicks said. “Police tactical model. Work that pump and it gets people's attention. There's no other sound like it.”

“I'm aware,” Keegan said. He put the shotgun back down, picked up one of the automatics.

“I have suppressors for those as well,” Hicks said. “And military slings for the rifles.”

“What was it, Christmas?” Chance said. “Santa bring you all this shit?”

Hicks didn't smile. “Object is to get those people out of their vehicles and under control as quickly as possible. That's what the weapons are for. A deterrent.”

“And what if they don't get out?” Chance said.

“We convince them they should. You were in the Corps, right? That what I hear?”

Chance looked at her, then back at Hicks. “Yeah.”

“Then you know your way around ordnance.”

“Some of it.”

McBride said, “When do we get rounds?”

“Day of,” Hicks said. “Still working on that part.”

She said, “All of this gets dumped when we're finished, right?”

“Of course,” Hicks said.

McBride thumbed the switch on the laser sight, and a faint red dot appeared on the wall, just to the left of the doorway. Chance took a step away from it.

“Like I said, can't really see it in daylight,” Hicks said. “In the dark, though, it scares the shit out of people. Someone looks down, sees that little circle on their chest, they get compliant pretty quickly. It has what you'd call a powerful psychological effect.”

“We'll want to lube the HKs a final time when we get out there,” Sandoval said. “Especially with all that dust in the air.”

“We going to steal some statues?” Chance said. “Or start a war?”

McBride turned off the laser, set the rifle back on the table.

“Either way,
ese,
” Sandoval said, “we got you covered.”

*   *   *

That afternoon, she took Chance out to the site. She had him drive, wanted him to learn the route.

When they came to the turnoff, she said, “Up there. It's safe. Just take it slow.”

He steered the rental onto the dirt road and up the incline, pebbles rattling against the undercarriage. The road circled behind a cluster of rust-colored boulders and into a wide clearing, hemmed in by rocks on all sides, invisible from the highway.

“Where we'll stash the second truck,” she said. “And where you, Keegan, and McBride will be waiting with the other car.”