Harding’s strong, weathered features turned grim. “Deal’s even bigger than we thought. Besides the .50-cal rifles, machine guns, and grenade launchers, these guys are selling state-of-the-art night-vision equipment.”
Clint whistled. “Man, those babies are hard to come by.”
The colonel nodded. “The army’s got millions invested in the technology. Worse yet, Markham’s peddling Stinger missiles.”
Skye felt a shock of adrenaline. A Stinger could blow an airliner out of the sky. That a soldier would sell them to the enemies of his country was unthinkable.
Harding must have read the look on her face. “If you think that’s bad—they’re using a helo to transport some of the weapons. The chopper is part of the deal.”
“Jeezus,” Trace said.
Skye’s gaze locked with Edge’s. She knew he’d been afraid that might happen.
“How the hell can they steal a helicopter?” Trace asked.
For answer, Harding turned to the guy named Pete, who was clearly in charge of computer data. It took more than a few people to put an operation of this size together.
“It’s actually pretty simple,” Pete said. “According to army records, the helicopter doesn’t exist. If it doesn’t show up in the inventory, it isn’t there. Computers are man’s best friend and also his worst enemy.”
Silence fell as they pondered the ramifications of what could be done with the right people in control. Skye couldn’t imagine the millions of dollars that must be involved.
“How many men will be delivering the shipment?” Edge asked.
Harding took a sip of his coffee. “Can’t say for sure. Enough to keep the cartel soldiers from just overrunning Markham and his men and taking the shipment.”
Edge shifted forward in his chair, his blue eyes fierce as he took the measure of the guys at the table. His attention returned to Harding. “How many of your men can we count on?”
“Including me, Pete, Clint, and Randy, ten Desert Eagles will be geared up and ready to go in.”
Skye could feel her heart thumping against her ribs. “Into Mexico, you mean.”
“That’s right.”
“Where’s the exchange taking place?” Edge asked.
Harding passed the baton to Clint. “The outskirts of a town called José Marie Morales. Guy was a famous Mexican revolutionary. Town named after him is about halfway between the airport and the base. There’s an old cabin on a ranch north of town, about ten miles south of the border.”
Harding picked up the conversation. “Along with the helo, they’ll be using four-wheel ATVs to get the weapons to the location.”
“There’s a spider web of trails in those mountains,” Clint added. “But once they get down into the valley, it’s wide open. Easy place to land the chopper.”
Edge’s features darkened. “Yeah, and close enough to the airport for Markham to make an easy escape.”
“Which isn’t going to happen,” the colonel said. He unrolled a set of topo maps on top of the table and used the thermal coffeepots to hold them down.
“This is what it looks like.” Harding’s lion eyes demanded the attention of every man in the room. “The exchange goes down at midnight. We’ll rendezvous here at twenty-two hundred.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “That gives us plenty of time to reach the location of the exchange and get in place. We’ve already reconned the area, but we’ll have time to look around, make sure we don’t run into unexpected trouble.”
Clint grinned. “What would be the fun in that, Colonel?”
Though he ignored the remark, the edges of Harding’s mouth faintly curved. “Any other questions?”
No one replied.
“All right. See you all tonight.”
Chairs scraped as men rose from the table and headed out the door. Skye, Edge, and Trace were the last ones to leave. Edge left a sizable tip for Sadie, they climbed into the Tahoe, and he drove back to the motel. No one said a word along the way.
When they reached the motel, Trace pulled Skye aside as Edge continued down the corridor and disappeared into his room.
