Typhoon Fury (Oregon Files 12)

Juan had just as much confidence in the PIG. Based on a Mercedes Unimog chassis, Max’s from the ground up modifications included an armored cab that could withstand rifle fire and an eight-hundred-horsepower turbodiesel that could push past one thousand with a nitro boost. Although the PIG didn’t have ejector seats, Beth’s guess that there were guns in the headlights was wrong only in location. A .30 caliber machine gun was tucked behind the front bumper, mortars could be fired from a retractable hatch in the roof, and guided rocket launchers were hidden in drop-away side panels. A smoke generator was capable of pumping out a thick cloud behind it. The fifty-five-gallon drums in the back did contain extra fuel, but they also served as a concealment for a cargo area that could be configured as a mobile surgical suite, radio listening post, or personnel carrier for up to ten fully outfitted commandos.

For today’s mission, the PIG was set up as a reconnaissance vehicle, with observation drones that could take off through the roof hatch. Juan wasn’t as adept as Gomez at flying them, but he’d get to test his recent training.

Guided by the satellite GPS navigation, Juan told Eddie to turn when they reached a dirt road near their destination, the last location of the homing beacon broadcast by the transmitter attached to the bronze eagle finial. The trail was well worn by truck treads, but the dense jungle foliage threatened to overgrow it, and branches scraped against the sides of the PIG.

A mile into the dirt road without passing a single vehicle, they arrived at a turnoff fronted by a heavy steel gate topped with razor wire. A ten-foot-high chain-link fence disappeared into the jungle on either side. Eddie slowed the PIG as they passed.

“That kind of security seems a tad excessive,” he said, “since we’re about an hour from nowhere.”

“They’re either very intent on keeping people out,” Juan said, “or they really want to keep someone from leaving.”

Raven peered at the sturdy gate. “It’s definitely the type of precaution I’d take to safeguard half a billion dollars of artwork.”

Beth shook her head. “But why keep it way out here in the middle of the jungle? Wouldn’t they want to have it more accessible if they’re planning to use it for trading purposes?”

“Only one way to find out,” Juan said. “Why don’t we see what our eye in the sky can tell us?”

Eddie drove another three hundred yards, out of sight of the gate, and stopped. The vegetation was so dense that

he couldn’t pull off the road, but it didn’t seem like they’d be blocking traffic anytime soon.

Juan hit the switch to retract the rooftop hatch, and humid mountain air flooded the cabin. Using his smartphone as a controller and watching the camera’s feed on the dashboard screen, Juan launched the gull-sized unmanned aerial vehicle.

The UAV shot up above the treetops, then whizzed toward its target. Although a quadcopter would have been more maneuverable, the buzzing of four rotors would draw unwanted attention in a quiet location like this. Instead, the drone had wings and a tail, with a compact gimbaled camera in the nose and a variable-speed propeller at the rear. Its top speed was sixty knots, but the prop could be slowed to stealth mode for silent reconnaissance. Painted to resemble a hawk, the drone looked like a bird of prey soaring on an updraft.

Flying at a thousand feet, the drone followed the road for a half mile until it reached a clearing with a large central prefab-style building, surrounded by several smaller ones, and a helicopter pad where a chopper idled, its rotors slowly churning. The gravel driveway continued on past the compound and into the jungle beyond. Nobody seemed to notice the circling drone. A half-dozen guards in green fatigues armed with assault rifles patrolled the compound, and five Humvees were parked at the edge, two of them with mounted .50 caliber machine guns.

“That’s some heavy firepower for an art storage facility,” Eddie said.

“With that many guards, we’ll have to wait until nightfall to get a closer look,” Juan said. “Raven and Beth, you’ll wait here and watch us with the drone while Eddie and I go through the fence and see if we can find out what’s going on here.”

“I’ll go with you on the infiltration,” Raven said.

Juan shook his head. “We’ll move faster if it’s just the two of us. Besides, your file said you’ve operated small drones before, and I’m guessing that’s not Beth’s forte.”

“If you wanted me to crash one,” Beth said, “I’m your woman.”

“Then it’s settled . . . Raven, I’ll show you the controls for this—”

Juan was interrupted when a door on the large building opened and six men walked out. The two in the lead were talking as they headed toward the waiting helicopter.

“Looks like someone’s getting ready to leave,” Juan said.

Raven leaned forward to get a closer look at the screen. “Can you zoom in on them?”

Juan focused on the two men in front, both powerfully built Filipinos.

“That’s him,” Beth said. “The guy in the Bangkok club.”

“He was called Tagaan,” Raven added.

“Do you know who the man next to him is?” Eddie asked.

Beth and Raven shook their heads.

“Maybe we can get an ID,” Juan said. He took a freeze-frame of the image and uploaded it by satellite to the Oregon’s computer. He texted Murph to run it through the CIA facial recognition database to see if they could get a match.

Tagaan and the other man stopped and talked animatedly, pointing several times at the building they’d just left.