“True,” Blanchet said, “but there’s also the possibility that he’s making money off the books that covers those luxuries.”
“Well, hopefully when we overturn the apple cart, we’ll be able to connect everyone that needs connecting,” I said. “I’m not interested in people who’ve been involved with this getting away with it.”
“So did you come up with a plan?” Gertie asked.
“I think so,” I said. “We need to get Mariela’s mother and the other women and children out of that compound, but I don’t want to give the men time to kill them and get away, which means calling in the state police to storm them is out of the question. They’d know we were coming before the cops launched their boats. And with all their security measures, I don’t give the state police much chance to penetrate. That’s not the kind of training they received.”
“We could infiltrate,” Blanchet said, “but we don’t know what the health or age of the women and children are, so they might not be able to leave without assistance.”
“I think the best way to go at this is a direct and obvious attack,” I said. “But with only the four of us because I don’t want to bring anyone else in on the front line.”
“Really?” Blanchet asked.
“If we catch them by surprise, then the men are more likely to immediately flee to avoid being caught rather than stick around to clean up the evidence.”
Ida Belle nodded. “They’ll scramble to save themselves, leaving the women and children behind. Then we can take our time with extraction. That’s smart.”
“I like it except for the part where the bad guys get away,” Gertie said.
“I have a plan for that too. Ida Belle and I are going to head into the swamp and approach the compound.”
“Why does Ida Belle always get to do the fun stuff?” Gertie griped.
“Because she can make that boat fly and knows the bayous like the back of her hand. And I need a sharpshooter with me in case we have to pick people off. Besides, I need you and Blanchet to cover the second part of this.”
“What second part?” Gertie asked.
I told her.
Thirty minutes later, Ida Belle and I were in my boat, flying across the water toward Mudbug. When we reached the big lake that bordered the town, I motioned for her to stop, and we studied the satellite maps.
“We have to assume that Lara and Mariela went north, away from the cove we found, crossing the swamp area until they reached one of these channels. The Brethren probably keep several boats on tap in different locations in case they need to leave by an alternate route, but they would all be accessible by land.”
“We don’t know how many people are in there,” Ida Belle said. “But I doubt they have enough boats to get everyone in the camp out at the same time, which plays into your theory that the men will flee.”
I nodded. “But no matter how far north I go, all of the channels eventually dump into this one. As long as they stay in the water, they have to pass here.”
Ida Belle studied the satellite image and nodded. “Agreed.”
“Then let me make a phone call and we’ll get this under way.”
A couple minutes later, we were cruising up the channel and I scanned the bayou as we went, periodically using my binoculars to ensure the way ahead was clear. We passed a couple fishermen, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. No sign at all of Spinner.
When we got to the branch-off that went to the cove, we passed it and kept going north until we located a small channel that ran about half a mile north of where we suspected their camp was located. Ida Belle slowed and we idled along, looking for any sign of passage, then I spotted something covered by brush. We inched closer and were able to make out the small boat tucked in a dug-out slot underneath a huge cypress branch with hanging moss.
“Pull farther up to where that big branch hangs over the channel. We can hide my boat behind it, and it shouldn’t be visible from the land or from where their boat is stashed.”
We secured the boat, then pulled on gloves and hats. We were already wearing long sleeves, so we had protection from the brush. Then we walked back down to where the Brethren’s boat was and located a visible trail. I looked around for any sign of cameras but didn’t spot anything. More likely, they trusted explosives to warn them if anyone was incoming. And their spies to tip them off that someone was headed their way.
Our progress was slow because I had to make sure we didn’t wind up blown to bits and become lunch for the wildlife, and occasionally, I stopped to estimate our position in relation to where I thought their camp was. When we were about a hundred yards out from that location, I sent a text to Gertie.
You’re up.
I got back at least ten emojis of grinning and clapping and assumed that meant they were ready to go. I motioned to Ida Belle and we continued down the path. The farther we went, the denser and darker it became, but so far, this path had been free from trip wires. My theory on secondary and escape routes seemed to be holding.
We’d progressed about half a mile from the boat when Ida Belle tapped me on the shoulder and pointed off to our left. I looked over and saw a small puff of smoke disappear into the trees, then another. Since there was no sound, I assumed it was a fire.
We’d found them!
I texted Gertie to make sure they were in position, then Harrison to let him know we were about to launch. Ida Belle and I crept toward the smoke, weapons ready. It didn’t take us long to locate the source of the smoke—a firepit with a cast-iron pot on top of it—and a man with a pistol at his side, sitting in a chair in front of it.
I heard the plane overhead long before I caught a glimpse of it through the trees. We skirted the firepit and slowly crept around the perimeter, attempting to spot any other armed men. A bit away from the firepit, I saw green formations that didn’t look natural. I pointed at them, and Ida Belle nodded. As we crept closer, I saw the windows and doors on the front of the structures. The roofs were flat and had turf growing on top of them. From the air, no one would be able to tell where they were.
I pulled the flare gun from my waist and gave Ida Belle a nod. We both pulled on goggles.
It was showtime.
I knew that as soon as I fired the gun, the men would immediately scramble, but we had the advantage because by the time they spotted the flare above the trees, we could be anywhere, and unless they were looking up when I fired, they’d have no idea what direction the shot had been fired from.
But our old buddy Bomber Bruce would know exactly where to fly, and Gertie and Blanchet would know exactly where to target.
I fired the flare up and then Ida Belle and I hurried behind a thick set of brush that offered a decent view of the doors on two of the structures. The man who had been watching the fire ran into view and yelled for someone he called Captain. A second man came out of one of the structures and looked up at the flare.
He cursed. “What the hell is that? We don’t have flare guns.”
“Maybe someone got lost nearby.”
“This is trouble we don’t need. We’ve got enough to worry about with that girl still on the loose.”
A second later, the prop plane roared overhead, barely clearing the trees, and then bright oval objects began to fall from it. The first balloon hit the captain right on top of the head and exploded, sending bright pink paint all over him and the fire guy. They both pulled their guns and pointed up, but the plane had already disappeared.