“I want you to know that if we thought anyone else could do this as well as you, we would have used them,” he spread his hands, “You have a unique perspective that’s needed. Which is why we’re talking today.”
“Who is this we?”
Lincoln let a small smile show. “People interested in this country’s security.”
“Federal?”
“Yes, Primarily SAD, the CIA Special Activities Division, but others as well.”
“Why me?”
Ashton spoke, “Your knowledge of the terrain and the people on both sides of the border. Pasqual Osorio. How you handle yourself in certain situations. Those are the big reasons. That you can keep quiet is another one.”
“You haven’t been around me when I’m at a party.”
Jones said, “I’ll take that chance.” He motioned to Ashton and the man reached into a small briefcase, removing and placing a small, thin MacBook Pro on the table. He opened the laptop, typed a few seconds and turned the computer toward Hunter. He stepped to his original position as Lincoln said, “It’s a short video.”
The screen showed an eerie green because it had been filmed at night, using a night vision camera. Hunter recognized the ghostly green view of the River Road above Lajitas, showing the Rio Grande and a portion of the highway nestled between the north and south mountain ranges. Lincoln said, “This was taken by a tourist.”
There was movement in the air above the river as a flock of large buzzards or golden eagles, she couldn’t tell which, flew into the United States. The distance seemed to be four or five hundred yards. The video stopped for a moment, then the magnified version of the same video appeared on the screen.
They weren’t big buzzards or eagles. They were drones.
Ones with eight rotors, forming a rectangular shape. She counted a dozen, each with some sort of suitcase-like package centered between and equidistant from the rotors. It made for a balanced flight. The drones passed low over the road and dropped the loads beside a van. Two men waited to retrieve the bundles and toss them inside. One of the men turned toward the camera, leaning forward like he was trying to see something in the darkness. The figure straightened and appeared to make a call on a cell phone. The video ended, and Hunter said, “We heard they were using drones for drug drops, but I didn’t know they were coming in groups.”
Lincoln leaned across the table and punched a couple of keys, “Here’s the last of the video. We kept it separate.”
Hunter watched the end of the first video, with the drones far in the distance. Something small and quick flitted across the screen. The tourist turned to catch it on the camera and Hunter watched as a smaller, slimmer six-rotor drone shaped like a three-foot long surfboard make a tight loop in the air and flew straight for the camera. The drone had some sort of slim-barreled rifle centered on the machine. Before the cameraman could react, Hunter saw the muzzle flash as it fired twice from a distance of less than forty feet.
The camera dropped to the roadbed, bouncing and tumbling down the rocky slope to come to rest in a narrow space between two boulders. The GoPro continued to film, catching the armed drone zipping out of the frame like some deadly hawk. Several minutes later, the body of someone obviously hunting for the camera crossed the screen, then several others did the same. They left the scene five minutes later.
Lincoln said, “The Sheriff’s office found the body, but not the camera. They ruled it a murder and surmised it was a drug deal gone bad. We didn’t think so, did our own reconnaissance and found the camera. I’m sure this is how they killed Cory.” Lincoln said. “The tourist’s wounds were an inch apart, both in the forehead.”
“The rounds were .22 caliber?”
“Yes.”
“Did forensics match the bullets in the two killings?”
“No, the two rounds in this one were too fragmented to make a hundred percent match. But they’re sure the rounds were CCI Minimags.”
“Who was he? The tourist?”
“Darren Carver, down for his first visit to Big Bend. He lived in Joplin, Missouri and had no ties to drugs or crime.”
“Married?”
“Single.”
They sat in silence for a minute before Hunter said, “Were they bringing in drugs?”
“We think so. No way to tell, really.”
“They sure shot fast, rather than trying to get away.”
“They did.”
“Was there any way to tell who launched them from Mexico?”