The team was in place.
The operatives from RMJ had disabled the camera, and now a ten-minute loop of empty road was broadcasting to the compound. A van equipped with a well-stocked first aid kit was parked between the highway and the Los Diablos compound. An older sedan—taken from the impound lot—idled outside the gate.
The RMJ operatives wore black tactical gear and carried multiple firearms—none of which Cassidy could name. Travis wore his uniform. In addition to his handgun, he had the long gun taken from the sheriff's gun locker.
"How are you doing?" Travis asked. He yanked the shoulder of Cassidy's Kevlar vest, pulling the material. It was strapped tight to her torso and barely moved.
Cassidy drew a deep breath. The bulletproof vest constricted her chest. The gun and holster chafed her stomach. But none of her discomfort mattered. "There are patients in that compound that need care," she said. She didn't mention that one of those people was her daughter and her personal stakes were high. "I'm ready."
Consulting his watch, Travis said, "Two minutes."
"Understood," said Martinez. "We'll see you on the other side."
Without another word, Marcus and Martinez melted into the surrounding woods. The gate leading to the compound was closed. Lights spilled from the windows in the lodge and the sound of heart-thumping bass poured into the night.
Cassidy and Travis moved to the impound car. The interior light had been disabled and he opened the door. After winding a rope through the steering wheel of the car, Travis pulled the cord taut and tied it to the turn signal. If all went well, the car would drive into the middle of the compound, drawing the attention of Booth and his men. Once all members of Los Diablos were out in the open, Marcus and Martinez would open fire—using the woods for camouflage.
The attack was nothing more than a diversion, allowing time for Cassidy and Travis to get to the RV.
Placing a brick on the accelerator, Travis turned on the lights and put the gearshift into Drive. He jumped back as the car shot forward, smashing through the gate and speeding across the open lawn.
Curses rang out as more than ten members of the gang ran from the lodge, firing at the unseen enemy. The car hit a smoldering oil drum and burst into flames.
Lights on tall poles illuminated the ground. A burst of gunfire erupted from the woods. The lights exploded as the fire still raged. Muzzles blazed. Men screamed and cursed. Beneath it all was the continual thumping of the bass.
"That's our cue," said Travis. "Follow me but keep your head down." He turned to face the camp. His intense gaze was lit by the flames. "Let's move."
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