Holding Their Own XI: Hearts and Minds (8 page)

With sheer walls that rose nearly 1,000 feet, Palo Dura wasn’t as deep nor as wide as its larger sibling to the west. But it’s multi-hued red rock and jagged formations were a sight to behold.

It was also far more accessible with public roads, hiking trails, campgrounds, and climbing facilities sprinkled throughout the canyon floor and rims.

Bishop had only visited the place once before the collapse. A college buddy had been raised in the area and boasted of the great climbing and awe-inspiring scenery. A weekend road trip had been planned for the fellows to get back to nature by sleeping under the stars, burning a little food over a campfire and honing their rock climbing techniques.

Like that first visit so many years before, the unveiling of Palo Dura was a bit of a shock to the three trackers.

For miles and miles across the panhandle of Texas, the travelers had seen nothing but mind-numbing, board-flat fields and prairies. No trees, no hills, no features to distract the eye.

Then suddenly, without warning, the canyon just appeared, carved into the earth by the Red River. Splendid. Massive. Stark in contrast to its tabletop smooth surroundings and bursting with so much color and shape.

Bishop had once read a quote by a famous painter who had lived in the area describing it as, “… a burning, seething caldron, filled with dramatic light and color.” The Texan couldn’t conjure up a better depiction.

The small convoy of police units wound their way to the north rim, finally rolling to a stop just above a seldom-used trailhead leading down into the red rock walls below.

Grim and Butter immediately moved to the edge, their eyes scanning what would be the two operators’ home for the next few days. The older man wasn’t inspired. “Damn… that’s some rough looking countryside.”

Bishop didn’t have to gawk, “This op is going to be longer and harder than a bad girl’s dream,” he said. “But look at the bright side; you’ll be able to tell your grandkids about all of the famous tourist attractions you’ve visited in our great republic.”

The only reply was a grumbled, “I’m getting to old for this shit.”

The trio began unloading packs, weapons, and gear from the back of the old SWAT van. All were sweating profusely before they’d finished snapping buckles and checking weapons. Bishop was the second best long-range shooter, and given Kevin’s absence, was tasked as the team’s designated marksman. He was not happy about having to tote the heavy .308 adorned with a big optic. Butter and Grim rolled with their favorite carbines.

The only positive aspect of the location was the abundance of water. Despite the surrounding terrain being nearly as dry as the Texan’s native desert, the Red River would provide an adequate supply of the life-giving substance. Each man carried a pump water filter as well as backup iodine purification tablets. It would be an extra task each day, but that was the far better option than carrying several pounds of liquid on their backs.

While Butter and Grim finished checking each other’s load-out, Bishop and Watts studied a map spread across a squad car’s hood. With a long finger tapping several marked spots on the chart, the sheriff announced, “These marks indicate where we’ve had contact with the gang. Looks like they are based at the eastern end, around the old state park. That makes sense, as the locals tell me that area is thick with caves and slot canyons.” 

Next came the most important part of the operation – communications.

Bishop pulled a military-issued satellite phone from his kit while Sheriff Watts produced an identical model. After a quick sequence of numbers had been punched, the lawman’s unit began ringing loudly. A successful test.

“This will be monitored 24 hours a day,” Watts promised. “As soon as you find their hideout, call and we’ll be coming in force.”

As Bishop checked his team, Sheriff Watts approached with a small can of bright orange spray paint in his hand. “I’ll have a deputy drive along this rim road every morning before lunch. If the satellite phones fail for any reason, spray the symbol of a cross where it can be seen from the road. We’ll get here as quickly as we can. Good luck.”

Bishop nodded and smiled, “Backup plans are always wise. Thanks, Sheriff. We’ll see you in a few days.”

The team leader then turned to his men and said, “Let’s go fellas. My wife is supposed to return from New Mexico soon. I want to be there to greet her. She’s not had the pleasure of my company for several weeks.”

“Lucky girl,” grumbled Grim. “I wonder how much she’d pay me to slow this operation down?”

The descent was steep, treacherous, and exhausting. Halfway to the canyon floor, Bishop’s muscles were screaming for mercy, his entire body drenched in salty perspiration. “Let’s take 10 on that next ridge,” he instructed between breaths. “I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”

Grim threw a “You’re full of shit,” look at his commander, but didn’t say a word. Butter, in pure innocence, said, “I’m fine, boss. We don’t have to stop.”

The two older members of the squad outvoted the younger legs and lungs in a silent election. Grim was suffering as well, just too damn proud to admit it.

“I don’t think that sheriff likes you much, Bishop,” Grim finally mumbled, dropping his pack to the dust. “That son of a bitch picked the most difficult trail in the entire canyon on purpose. I bet he’s up on the rim over there, sitting in his air-conditioned car and watching us through binoculars. Probably having a grand old belly laugh at our misery.”

“You’re probably right,” replied the Texan. “I should have given your charm and diplomacy more of a chance to win the man over.”

Butter, slowly getting used to his teammates’ constant banter, ignored the back-and-forth prattle. “Sir, how are we going to find these bad guys? This place is huge… with a million places to hide.”

Bishop grunted, “That’s simple. We follow the river and look for tracks. Anybody living in this canyon and growing crops has to carry a lot of water back to their camp. We’ll just find their trail and follow it.”

The younger man was confused. “But if it’s that easy, how come the deputies didn’t do the same thing?”

Grim smiled, shaking his head, “Bishop said it was simple, not easy. They’ll have lookouts, maybe snipers posted. They’re probably smart enough to try and cover their tracks. We have to search 28 miles of river without exposing ourselves, and that is going to suck.”

Bishop nodded his agreement. “We’ll go with Grim and me in front, you bringing up the rear, Butter. We’ll move like a triangle, always keeping good separation. There’s no way one man can watch for signs and keep an eye out for sentries and ambushes at the same time. Two of us in front will give us a better chance of coming out of this without a backside full of buckshot.”

The two team members nodded their understanding.

“Let’s mount up. We’re burning daylight.”

Terri was touched by the number of tribal elders and local officials that gathered to see her off. While her work in New Mexico had been rewarding, she was anxious to get home. Hunter didn’t seem to mind their extended stay, having made several new friends.

“We’ll come back and visit, I promise,” she shouted and waved from the back of the Alliance SUV.

The two security men Diana had tasked to escort her home were the typical stoic professionals. As they sped across the New Mexico desert on the way to Texas, she couldn’t help but wonder how Bishop had ever tolerated such low-key, anti-social co-workers.

The thought prompted another round of worrying about her husband. Without thinking, she asked the two men in the front seat, “Has there been any word on Bishop’s mission? Do you know if he’s still up in the panhandle?”

Before the words had left her throat, she regretted the questions. Even if they knew, or had heard a rumor, they wouldn’t tell her. It just wasn’t done.

What happened next struck Terri as strange. Instead of the anticipated, immediate response of “No, ma’am,” the two bodyguards exchanged an odd gaze. She had just spent several weeks intensely studying expressions during heated negotiations. It was easy to read this one as, “If she only knew.”

Terri realized that if she didn’t handle the next few exchanges of conversation carefully, both men would retreat into the sanctuary of feigned ignorance. She decided that making them spill the beans would be her final challenge of the trip. A car game that would help pass the time.

“Been causing trouble again, has he? What’s he been up to now? Chasing the pretty girls around Alpha, I’d wager?”

The accusation was so ridiculous, she expected the tactic to yield a quick denial and then open a different door. Instead, the driver looked into the rearview mirror and flashed a clear nonverbal response with his raised eyebrows. Terri interpreted the look to mean, “You know about this?”

Now Terri’s interest in the little game became serious. No way would Bishop ever cheat on her. What the hell was going on back in Alpha?

She played along, “Yeah, I’ve been aware of his wandering eye for quite a while. Relax guys; we’re trying to work through it. It’s no state secret.”

“How long have you been married, ma’am?” came the question from the passenger seat.

That did it! These two muscle-bound goons knew something… or thought they did.

“A long time. But it’s not all Bishop’s fault, I suppose. He’s not a bad looking sort, and I know lots of women are attracted by his reputation. No matter, though - If I ever catch him with his pants down, both the bitch and he will receive a dose of my 9 millimeter’s lead.”

For the second time, Terri’s fishing expedition yielded unexpected results. Her threat actually caused both of the men in the front uneasiness. The driver shifted nervously in his seat. The passenger shot the driver a look that indicated he clearly took Terri’s threat seriously.

If Bishop and I ever get short of money again, I need to get these two in a poker game
, she thought.

A foul fog of silence clouded the interior as the miles rolled past – so much so that Terri became uncomfortable herself. To break the ice, she upped the ante, “You guys just wait until Nick hears about this. If Bishop’s playing around, Nick will take care of his sorry ass for sure.”

The two security men exchanged a look of pure terror, the passenger and senior man turning abruptly to meet Terri’s gaze. “Ma’am, we never said a word. I want that on the record. We both like our jobs.”

Terri was stunned. What on earth could cause such a reaction? She was sure both of the guys in the front seat would walk into a hailstorm of bullets or charge an active shooter without a second thought. Why had her empty threat to talk to Nick caused such fear?

Less than a mile had passed before she put the pieces of the puzzle together. Diana.

Both of the men in the front seat were probably on Diana’s security detail. The last time she’d talked to her dear friend, the troubled Alliance leader had praised Bishop for being there while Nick was in the hospital.

“You’ve got the best man in the whole wide world, girlfriend,” Diana had claimed. “He’s been propping me up while you’ve been gone, day and night, and I owe both of you a huge debt.”

Terri started laughing, the ridiculousness of the entire affair striking her as humorous. Bishop and Diana? Seriously? She’d speak to Nick all right. He needed to give his security men some awareness training.

“Guys, do you really think my husband is having an affair with Diana? Really? Come clean with Aunt Terri. I promise I won’t tell Nick if you give up the truth.”

Again, neither man in the front answered, but the small beads of perspiration on their foreheads were telling. The driver reached to turn up the air conditioner.

Terri finally stopped giggling, “Look, guys, you can speculate all you want. I’m well aware my hubby’s been keeping close company with our fearless leader. Diana told me so personally. I even know he’s been there a few times into the wee hours. They’re extremely close and have fought side by side. She’s going through a rough period right now, and Bishop is helping her like any good friend would. You need to tell your security buddies that they’re completely off base and misreading the entire thing. If Nick finds out about this, he’ll have all your asses running across the desert until your feet fall off.”

She could tell her words were making them both think, instilling doubt into their perspective. When neither man offered any proof, or countered her statement, she knew they were only speculating.

Is the Alliance really so stable and boring that security men have to resort to high school rumors and gossip? Is that good or bad,
she pondered.