The two of them sat silently, observing the darkness in front of them, as the engine mumbled lazily.
Ortega checked the time on his wristwatch and gestured a ‘go ahead’ to Danforth.
Unrolling the waxed cloth Danforth pulled out Coletta's M14 with its night vision scope fastened tightly onto it.
He picked up the rifle, turned the device on and pointed it directly behind him.
“It’s like you said Skorpio, they’re following us and they look pretty operative too. I would almost say 'pissed off' and your buddy is with them.”
Danforth took his eye away from the night scope.
“What exactly did you do, boss?”
Ortega shook his head but didn’t reply because truth be told, he had seen it coming.
He'd hoped it wouldn't. He’d given that fucking asshole a chance to get away. Well, at least one, anyways. Now, it was his fucking problem, not Ortega’s anymore.
Ortega carefully moved a metal drum to the edge of the boat, trying not to make any noise as he did. Then he took off the cap tipped its mouth overboard and poured all its contents into the water.
Danforth repeated everything Ortega had done, except with another drum.
Then they continued with others.
Shortly thereafter, with still another.
The liquid they were pouring into the water gave off a harsh smell.
This time Ortega was the one who picked the M14 up and stared into the night vision device
as Danforth began pulling out phosphorous grenades and took the safety off of one of them.
There was no need for the two of them to say anything to one another because they had planned it all ahead of time. They called it 'Plan B' and Baker team always had one.
“Not yet,” sad Ortega staring through the night scope.
They kept quiet for about a minute longer, and all you could hear was the engine muttering beneath them.
Ortega kept looking through the scope and Danforth stood at the ready holding his grenade.
“Now,” said Ortega finally.
Danforth leaned back and threw the grenade so hard and so fast that he could have been on a baseball field.
The phosphorus grenade started sizzling in mid-air, casting light on everything before even hitting the water.
The flames seemed to ignite in unison, almost simultaneously. Almost immediately thereafter, the entire riverside from one side to the other was ablaze. The boat following them had burst into flames consequently, and you could clearly hear the crew on board screaming.
The flames razed and glowed to the point that one side of the entire valley had lit up not unlike daybreak while the wails of pain echoed in the distance.
“Nice throw,” said Ortega.
Someone was trying to put out his burning arm in the air while making towards the bridge probably in hopes of jumping into the water. He didn’t make it.
He gave up eventually falling to the ground, his face in flames.
“Just how did they figure out the money was counterfeit that fast?” wondered Danforth.
“Come on Skorpio, tell me the truth, what exactly did you say to our contact?”
Ortega didn’t say anything
There was a splash, which could only mean someone had managed to throw himself into the water. Someone had at least.
Since the river was on fire from top to bottom, diving in was of no use now. In fact, if you wanted to get out, there was a “minor,” yet fundamental detail to consider before you did. Resurfacing meant you’d catch fire. That therefore left you two choices to make either drowning to death or burning alive instead.
What a fucking brutal way to go – Ortega thought to himself.
Just brutal.
Even for a traitor.