J. Curtis - Calexit - The Anthology

“I’m the guy Jackson talked to,” he said slowly.

One of the men looked to the back of the van and said, “ Jefe , somebody’s here to see you.”

The back door to the van opened and Jackson stepped out. He wore baggy gray fatigues, with a black mesh vest over his chest and back. “DOJ” was emblazoned across the vest in white letters. One hand was on the grip of the short rifle that hung across his chest, while a steaming Styrofoam cup was in the other.

He gestured to the men in the van, who lowered their guns. “Whatcha got?” he said.

“All three of my guys’ll be here in a few. You know where this place is?”

Jackson nodded to one of his men, who produced a small tablet and showed it to the sheriff. One window showed a map with a blinking dot on the side of one of the roads winding through the mountains, while the other showed an oddly-colored picture of an a-frame cabin and a couple of outbuildings. Andrews studied it for a moment, then looked up at Jackson.

“Yeah, OK, that’s one of the hunting lodges up in the El Dorado. We’re in luck.”

“Luck?”

“One way in, one way out. We can leave one of my guys to block the road and the rest of us can do perimeter for you.”

“Sweet. We should be heading out soon.”

Andrews nodded and walked back to his truck just as the first of his deputies pulled into the lot.

Luke was helping Mark pull the couch out into a bed when Ted came down from the loft with a couple of pillows and a quilt. He set his load down on the desk, then glanced at the monitor. Luke looked at his son questioningly when Ted cussed at the computer.

“There’s police down in Placerville,” Ted said, pointing to the chat window. “Arrived about half an hour ago.”

“Passing through?”

“Nope. Message is ‘transport to Indio.’” This time, it was Luke’s turn to cuss. Jen came in from the bathroom just in time to see father and son burst into movement.

“What’s going on?” she asked. She moved closer to Mark.

“We’re busted,” Ted replied as he pulled the desk out from the wall. He jerked a small door behind it open and began pulling out canvas bags.

“One of our lookouts down in Placerville says that there are people on their way up here. We gotta go,” Luke explained as he pulled his coat back on and lifted one of the backpacks Ted had pulled from the wall.

“Where?”

“Looks like we’re all going to Nevada tonight. You know how to ride a horse?”

Mark nodded, then pointed to the garbage bag that contained their clothes. “Put more on,” he said to Jen. “We won’t be able to bring it all.” Jen looked at him in shock, then flinched when he grabbed her good shoulder and turned her. “Honey, we gotta move.”

Jen nodded numbly and fumbled through the tumble of clothing that came from the bag when Mark upended it onto the couch. Soon, she was pulling on another pair of pants and several more sweaters.

Ted pulled the last of the bags from behind the desk, then grabbed the computer and disconnected it from the radio. He opened the back of one of its bigger pieces and pulled something out. The smell of ozone and scorched insulation soon filled the room. “I’ll get the horses ready.”

“Stay in the barn,” Luke ordered. “They might have someone watching. No lights.” Ted headed out as Mark and Jen continued to pull on extra layers of clothing.

Schmidt looked over to Jiminez and said, “Jackson’s team has support from the locals, and they’re moving out. Should be at Target Two in about half an hour or so.”

“Good,” Jiminez replied. “Is the team in Sacramento ready?”

“Yep,” Schmidt replied. “They can take down the garage whenever you’re ready.”

Jiminez looked at his monitor for a moment, then nodded. “ Via ,” he said. “Do it.”

Willie lay propped up in the corner of his couch. The screen across from him was playing an old Mexican soap opera, but he had passed out hours earlier. An almost empty bottle of cherry vodka lay on the table next to him. Beside it was his phone, which had buzzed insistently several times over the last hour.

Suddenly, the screen and the hallway light both went off, and his phone went silent at the same time. Willie snorted in his sleep, then turned over to get more comfortable.

A heartbeat later, the front door blew in with a bang, and several small cylinders followed the door into the living room. These exploded with loud, sharp roars and flashes of blinding light, which struck Willie just as he lurched up from the couch, the length of pipe in his hand.

His screams of fright and surprise were drowned out by the shouts of several dark-clad figures as they piled in through the doorway. One pointed a stubby weapon at him and depressed the trigger. Two darts arrowed out, embedding themselves in Willie’s chest. At that instant, the wires trailing out behind them energized, passing a massive shock through the fat man’s abdomen. He stiffened for a moment, unable to breathe, then fell to the floor.

“Clear!” the team leader shouted. Other members of his team quickly searched the house, confirming that Willie was alone. At his feet, Willie was being cuffed as a large hood was pulled over his head. The team leader tapped out a message on his phone as the last of the shouted reports rang through the house. ‘Target One secure. One in custody.’

Schmidt relayed the message from the takedown team in Sacramento to his boss. At the same time, he exchanged a high-five with Sedana, who had watched the assault via the surveillance camera they had used to track Mark and Jennifer earlier that evening.

“ Bueno ,” Jiminez said with a nod of satisfaction. “Tell the interrogators I want a report for the AG in four hours.”

Mark and Jen followed Luke into the building behind the cabin. It smelled of sweet hay and horse manure. Ted was waiting for them with two large dappled gray horses, which he had already saddled.

“Mark, get behind Ted. I’ll take you, Jen,” Luke said quietly as he strapped one of the bags he carried to his saddle.

Mark helped Jen onto Luke’s horse, then climbed onto the other mount. Jen cringed as she felt Luke’s hand go around her waist after he pulled himself up into the saddle, but that was lost as Ted pulled the barn door open and Luke kicked their mount into motion. The first heavy snowflakes were falling just as she heard Ted’s horse step across the threshold behind them.

Jackson swore as hot coffee sloshed over the side of his cup. “You going for high score, Juanito ?”

The driver snorted. “These fucking roads,” he muttered. “There’s a hole every three feet, I swear.” The wipers ran across the windshield again, pushing away the wet snow that had started falling a few minutes after they had driven up out of Placerville.

“You know, sometimes I miss Barstow,” Jackson said sarcastically.

“Yeah, sandstorms are a real party.”

Ahead of them, they saw Andrews’ SUV slow, then turn onto a steep-pitched road that seemed to grow out of the mountainside. “Watch it,” Jackson said. “He’s not slowing down for us. Don’t let him get away.”

“’Slow down, Juanito !’” Juan replied in a squeaky falsetto. “’Speed up, Juanito !’”

They followed Andrews as he drove along a series of switchbacks. After a few minutes, Jackson heard someone retch behind him.

“You puke in my van,” he growled through clenched teeth, “and I will fucking leave you here.” He gave up on his coffee and opened the window so he could throw it down the mountainside.