Blade road shotgun again with Nitro and Sam in the back where Nitro could throw judgmental glances at Sam.
Here came another one.
Sam turned slowly, taking his time moving his head. He mouthed,What?
Nitro shook his head.
They’d been doing that since climbing into Pablo’s rattle-trap helo to make another death-defying flight. Sam would give his left nut to lay down somewhere quiet and sleep. Blade would veto that. Didn’t matter. Sam had no intention of spending two weeks at home during which his fate would be decided.
He didn’t really have a home, just a place he visited once a year. Three days was all he could take and only if forced to go there.
Angel announced, “We are fifty yards away.” He slowed and must have driven over buried hippos before parking the Hummer with one side sitting higher than the other. Sam breathed through clenched teeth. He couldn’t wait to get out, but he would not be first.
Damn Nitro noticed everything when he was in dog-with-a-bone mode.
Thankfully, that ended the minute Nitro started issuing orders as they climbed out. Then he switched to hand signs, maintaining radio silence while inserting and containing Esteban.
In minutes, Esteban’s wooden building came into view. From the outside, it was larger than other homes in the village a half-mile away. The exterior hadn’t been painted in years and the roof had been patched, but inside Esteban had reinforced one large room with cement-block walls, half-inch-thick aluminum panels for the ceiling, and a two-inch-thick steel door with a fingerprint-activated lock.
A light glowed in the front room.
As far as Sam knew, the arms dealer lived alone. Esteban said he’d never brought a woman to his home, which was his place of business, and avoided entanglements.
When things got hot, he needed to be mobile with no baggage. He told Sam he’d been down here for around two years.
He’d sounded content, happy even, when they met for Sam’s team to buy arms.
Once Sam and the team were within thirty feet of the modest building, Angel pulled away and chose a spot to cover them from outside.
Nitro took the lead, slowly approaching the one-level structure with a footprint of forty by thirty feet.
Robbing Esteban would require knowing his location.
The village believed he was a writer who had been born in Venezuela and spent his days journaling his travels with plans to publish. Esteban had just told Sam he enjoyed volunteering at the local school five klicks away.
A man of many talents, but Esteban had sounded genuinely happy when he’d spoken of the local school.
Sam had contacted Esteban through an elaborate electronic system or Esteban would not have opened the door to Sam the first time.
Would he open it this time?
Nitro slipped through the dark without making a sound before hugging the wall on the right side of the illuminated window. Calling it a window was a stretch. There were two narrow slits a foot wide and four feet tall with a steel bar running down the middle. The glass had to be bulletproof.
Nitro gave Sam the nod to knock on the back door where Esteban had a camera hidden to observe anyone approaching.
Sam walked over to the simple wood door and knocked. “Hey man, I could use a cold one.” That had been a code he and Esteban created while imprisoned, which identified a friendly.
A minute later, no one had answered the door.
Damn. That couldn’t be good.
Stepping back from the door, Sam waited for Nitro’s next move. Hairs lifted along Sam’s neck. This operation refused to get better.
Nitro gave a quick signal for Sam to go in, then he and Blade moved into position to protect Sam’s back.
Esteban had turned this place into a fortress but had no security alarm on the door. He told Sam it was unnecessary. If an unfriendly found him and made it into his reinforced armory, then all the alarms in the world would not save him. Besides, who would come to his aid?
Sam fished out a set of picks from a pocket on his vest. He moved them a couple times until the tumblers clicked, unlocking the door.
