Ghost Sniper

74

The first firefight between the Toluca police and the Ruvalcabas took place near the center of town. Entirely by chance, two patrol trucks spotted a car with four of Ruvalcaba’s men sitting at a traffic light. The police attempted a traffic stop, and the cartel members opened fire.

One police officer was wounded in the hand, but all four Ruvalcabas were killed by automatic weapons fire. After that, word spread through town, and within a half hour, the civilian population was in lockdown mode; they were not strangers to drug violence in their streets.

Crosswhite and Vaught stood inside an Oxxo carryout store near the scene of the shooting, talking with Chief Diego and Sergeant Cuevas. Crosswhite had reached town only fifteen minutes earlier, but Vaught had briefed him fully by phone prior to his arrival.

“I understand your desire to hold the center of town,” Crosswhite told Diego, “but this isn’t that kind of fight. There’s nothing of value here, either to us or the enemy. The center of town is a symbol — nothing more. We have to hunt these people down and kill them.”

“But if we give up the center of town,” Diego said, “the people will think we’ve abandoned them and go over to the enemy.”

Crosswhite began to argue, but Vaught caught him by the arm. “He’s right. We have to hold the center of town. Symbolism is important here.”

“Goddamnit, we don’t have enough men for that!”

“If I may?” said Sergeant Cuevas.

Crosswhite nodded.

“Twenty-five men can hold the center of town if the rest maintain a close orbit, crisscrossing at regular intervals to give the appearance of a greater presence. In the meantime, the patrols can sweep the streets and engage when necessary.”

Crosswhite liked the idea in principle. “That will work until nightfall. After that, they’ll block many of the streets with narcobloqueos, and we’ll have to modify the tactic. But I like the plan. It should get us through the day and keep the people from thinking we’ve run out on them.”

“But after dark, we’ll pull the patrols much closer to the center,” Diego insisted. This was a tactic similar to that used in the north along the border before the truce with Castañeda had been struck. By day, the police had patrolled freely, whereas by night, many towns had been forced to suspend police services altogether to avoid their officers being killed in ambushes.

Crosswhite wanted to employ much more aggressive tactics, but it wasn’t his police department, and the men weren’t trained well enough for night action. Still, he wasn’t satisfied to fight a holding action. He took Vaught by the shoulder and walked him aside as three other officers came into the store to talk with the chief.

“With everyone bunched up together around the center of town tonight, Hancock’s gonna have a target-rich environment to work with.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Vaught said. “We should detach from the main body and be ready to move on him the second he fires.”

“He’ll have skirmishers. We won’t be able to run right up on him the way you did last night.”

“I’ll talk Cuevas into giving me that grenade launcher of his. We’ll hit ’em hard and fast. Hell, we might even get Hancock in the barrage.”

“If we could be so lucky,” Crosswhite said, snatching a pack of cigarettes from the rack behind the counter.

Vaught grinned. “Gonna pay for those?”

“I’m defending the city. If that’s not payment enough, they can root through my pockets when I’m dead.”

Sergeant Cuevas stepped up and tossed a fifty-peso note onto the counter. “I have Diego’s permission to detach my team after sundown to work with you. There will be seven of us to move on the sniper when he fires. One of us should get through to him.” He offered Vaught his FX-05 with the AG36 40 mm grenade launcher.

Vaught took a dip from his can of Copenhagen. “I won’t need it if you’re coming along, Sergeant.”

“I’ve fired the grenade launcher only twice,” Cuevas said. “I’m sure you have a better eye for it.”

Crosswhite tore the cellophane from the pack of smokes. “Vaught’s not trained on the weapon system. That makes you the grenadier, Sergeant.” He turned for the door. “Thanks for the cigarettes, by the way.”

When he was gone outside, Cuevas looked at Vaught. “Did he really kill Serrano?”

Tucking away the tobacco can in his pocket, Vaught nodded. “Are you conflicted by that… believe you should arrest him?”

Cuevas smirked and started for the door. “I’d sooner arrest him for stealing the cigarettes.”