by Smith, T. L.
He leaned over the front of my 4W, nearly putting his head to my gun. “Keep your mouths shut and your asses on the other side of the line and you’ll never know we’re here.”
His eyes were small beady black dots as he glared at me, but this close, something else struck me. A flash of another being, floating around, through him, like a ghost. My heart started beating harder. Despite my upbringing, I didn’t believe in Spirits. Until now. Something unnatural was attached to this man and it was evil. Every nerve in my body wanted to twitch, but I held onto my training.
Show no fear. “Back off. My finger is starting to get a mind of its own and it doesn’t like you any better than I do.”
He smirked as he turned away and walked back towards his vehicle.
CHAPTER
3
The armed men let us drive between them, but never took their weapons off us. I looked at the Hummers. They were the real models, made for this exacting terrain. The rear windows were tinted black, making it impossible to see inside. I got the impression there were people inside. I also got a wave of something else, like a smell of desperation.
Guns waved us on. At the rear of each vehicle were drag plates. That explained the consistent patterns in the sand. Even as we cleared their blockade, there were no tire tracks behind them. As we hit a curve I threw the Smirker one last look. He glared back at me. Even at a distance, he tried to intimidate me. With that evil Spirit around him, it worked. I held my breath until we were clear of these intruders.
Lutz dropped back to ride beside me, raising his visor. “We need to report this.”
“I’ll deal with it.” I studied the terrain around us, looking for the traps we’d sprung to tell these people we were even here. “First, let’s clear the last relief station and get back to base.”
He gave me a look that said he thought I was nuts, but he didn’t question my order. As soon as we reached the main wash, the static on my com line cleared. HQ was calling me, sounding pretty persistent and annoyed.
“This is Capt. Castle.”
“What happened? You should have checked in from RS5 by now.”
“Sorry, we were investigating tracks. Only realized a few minutes ago that our coms were down. On our way to RS5 now.” Lutz cleared his throat, but I shook my head. “Will reach the relief station in another ten minutes.”
Having set a deadline, I took the lead again, picking up our pace. It also kept Lutz from asking me a bunch of questions. With the interference the conversation with these intruders hadn’t transmitted, but I’d recorded the Smirker and his papers. I wanted to go over the information before I did anything official.
The last relief station was close enough to the border we could almost throw a rock and hit Mexico. It was also the first point of relief for illegals, and the heaviest hit. By the time they reached this point they were out of food and water.
Lutz confirmed what we already knew, that the boxes were undisturbed. We reported in, informing them we were headed back to base. I kept radio silence as we passed the branch of the washes. All evidence we’d been up that way had been erased. I didn’t say anything to Lutz.
We maintained radio silence until we broke out of the mountains. Then I pulled over, removed my helmet, and walked back along the path a few meters. Lutz was right there, helmet off too. “So why the silent treatment?”
“They were listening to us.”
“Our coms weren’t working.”
“Theirs were. He called me by name and when I threatened to call for backup, he dared me to do it.” I stared into the darkening mountains. “I had my mike full open and HQ didn’t pick up on any of it.”
“Why didn’t they warn us anyone was up there?” Lutz fidgeted as he looked back into the hills too. “That almost came down to a shootout.”
“Which we’d have lost.” I turned back towards our 4Ws.
“Is that what you’re reporting?” Lutz followed.
“I’m not sure what I’m reporting. Not until I get more information.” I hesitated putting my helmet on again, not trusting it now. “I’m not one to jump at conspiracy theories, but I got a bad feeling about this, like you got a bad feeling about the illegals.”
“Maybe they’re related.”
You think? I didn’t need to be snippy with Lutz. “Wouldn’t be surprised. If that’s how they treated us, no telling what they’d do to anyone else. But before I go blowing any whistles I need to know if they’re legit. Making noise could be career-enders for both of us.”
Lutz’s new scowl was understandable. He’d just reenlisted. We’d chatted enough to know getting thrown out of the Marines was not acceptable. “Yeah, let’s cover our asses first.”
Reluctantly I put on my helmet, confirmed we were heading to our camp. We loaded the 4Ws into our truck and I let Lutz drive. It was a long, wordless ride back to base. We checked our vehicles into maintenance, our helmets into the com office and grabbed our duffels. I had two days to turn in a formal report, so I hung onto our data chips. Outside HQ doors I dismissed Lutz, returning his salute and went in by myself.
I half-expected the duty officer to be waiting, to admonish me for the break in communications. Another part of me expected our CO to debrief me for violating a secure area. But the duty officer barely looked up from his desk. “Relief stations checked out? Vehicles and gear checked in?”
“Everything should be restocked and ready to head out tomorrow.” I ran my arm over the ID scanner, electronically signing the mission log. “Anything before I call it a night?”
He shrugged. “No messages in the system. Ready to cool off with a cold one?”
“As soon as I wash off the dust.” I wanted to leave, but I kept waiting for some huge boot to drop on my neck.
He noticed my lingering, actually looking up at me over the top of his smart glasses. “Is there something else you need, Captain?”
“No, no…” I faked a laugh, pulling my hat from my waistband. “On my way out.”
No one stopped me as I headed back through the building and out into the evening heat. Or as I plodded through the parking lot to my car. With a tap of my key fob my car chirped and started up, the air conditioner preset at full. I held the door open for a moment to let hot air out, but also one last verification someone wasn’t going to drag me off to a dark room for a ten-hour interrogation.
No one lurked in the dusky shadows. I started to get into my car, but dropped my keys. Bending down, I saw marks on the asphalt, scuffs that ran up under my car. It had been days since I parked. Dust storms had deposited several layers of sand on and around my car, so there was no doubt something had recently been next to my car, pushed up under it.
Shit, shit, shit! I cursed in my head as I picked up my keys. I’d pulled embassy duty in the Middle-East for my first military posting. Cars were a favorite target of attack. A million procedures ran through my head in that few seconds. It wasn’t attached to my ignition. It might be pressure sensitive, waiting for me to sit down, or attached to the drive shaft, waiting for the vehicle to move. Or I was being watched and it was radio controlled.
Did that mean they were possibly listening too? Maybe it was just a tracking device. If I was being monitored, standing here was certainly going to raise questions. Say something. Look like you forgot something. I took a few steps away from my car, letting the door auto-close. “Why do I always forget?” I pretended to wander back towards HQ, pulling out my phone.
I got Delgado’s inbox. “Hey, babe. I forgot to charge up again. Can you come and get me? I’ll meet you at the club.”
CHAPTER
4
The base tram was near the corner so I ran the last few meters. It was packed and noisy. I pocketed my phone and looked around. A buzz-topped E-1 stood behind me. “Private, my phone’s dead, can I borrow yours?”
He stared at me for a moment, his mouth opened slightly. He looked fresh out of boot camp. “Yes… Yes, ma’am!” He dug in his pocket and produced a phone.
“What…”
“NOW!” I hung up, no explanation and quickly dialed another number.
“Hello, Officer Delgado here.” I knew he’d pick up this number, no matter what. It was his emergency number for disasters.
“Casey.” My heart skipped a beat to hear his voice.
“Where you calling me from and why do you need me to pick you up? I charged your car before you went on duty.”
“I know. Something happened. Can’t explain right now. Come get me.”
“I’ll be there in… thirty minutes.”
I disconnected and turned back to the private. “Thank you, again.”
“No problem, ma’am.” He bowed his head, saluting not required here.
I focused on the ride. If they were watching, or listening, I’d need to remain somewhere noisy. The tram and the bar both qualified. It took nearly a half-hour to reach the club, where most the riders got off. I was able to stay wedged between the kid and some old Master Sergeant, until we slipped out of the broiling heat and into the cool dark club.
The guys were gentlemen and let me up to the bar first, where I grabbed a can of beer. Not seeing Lutz or Casey, I headed on through the building to the gym on the back side, with a locker room. I had looked forward to getting home and hitting the pool for a nighttime swim. Instead I had to settle for a quick shower.
I shivered through a cold shower, getting the grim off and giving me a surge of energy. I kept a vacuum-sealed bag in my duffle, a set of civvies for emergencies. Levis, a clean sports bra and a tank top. I let my hair out of the tight knot I kept hidden by my cap. A good spray of dry shampoo and a brushing fluffed it out and made it smell decent again.
With a glance in the mirror and I was not the captain in desert brown BDUs, but a petite, dark-skinned local hanging at the club. Plenty of the young Cocopah girls worked on base and while I wasn’t one of the River People, white people didn’t know the difference.
Not the same rule among the Native Americans. On paper I was Navajo, but there was an unspoken family secret about our true heritage. My parents didn’t speak of it except in veiled comments, promising I’d learn the truth ‘when the time was right’.
At nearly 29 years old, I wasn’t holding my breath for that truth. I’d graduated high school with scholarships and got accepted into the U.S. Military Academy for the Marine Corps. I came out with honors, lieutenant bars and a degree in linguistics. No surprise there. I spoke Navajo on the Res, Spanish on the back streets of Tucson, and English for the white schools. I picked up French and Arabic at the academy, easily adding two more regional dialects during my first tour of the Middle East.
Picked up two more middle-east languages on my second tour. Along with a bullet wound, temporary hearing loss in one ear and a tattoo I didn’t hide, or flash around either. If you were a Marine, you knew what it meant. With all that, I still hadn’t achieved that mystical point where my true heritage could be revealed.
I stared at myself in the mirror. Why do you suddenly care? Today?
“Because you’re 29.” I answered myself out loud. “I’m old enough to know the truth.”
I leaned closer to the mirror. I didn’t look 29, even after all these years in deserts from here to the middle-east. My raven black hair hung down past my shoulder blades. Sun had baked my cheekbones, making me a bit darker and the sharper angles of my face a bit more pronounced. But in a good way. I needed virtually no makeup. Maybe a little mascara for a night out. I was ‘sun-kissed’. That’s what Casey called it.
Except for the tattoo, I didn’t look like a Marine. I still wore the same Levis as I did in high school, patching them up whenever needed with some bohemian embroidery I learned as a little kid. The Levies fit a lot better now than they did when I was 17, all velvety soft.
The fitted tank top showed off defined arm muscles and shoulders, without looking like I was trying out for some bodybuilder’s magazine. And I had a good cleavage, no implants or pushup bras needed. I didn’t go for the ‘girly’ stuff, but didn’t mind proving I wasn’t a ‘man with boobs’, as some idiots assumed when they heard about a female Marine.
Some people joked that if I was a foot taller, I could be a supermodel, but I was happy at five-four. Not too intimidating, unless I needed to be. Being petite worked out fine interrogating a suspect. They always went for what they believed was my weakness, leaving them almost defenseless when I came back on them. Play to your strengths. A well-learned lesson.
Right now I didn’t want to be intimidating. I wanted to blend in so I could get out of here incognito. You’re just one of the girls. I fluffed my hair again. Casey and Lutz were probably waiting for me. I checked my weapons, zipped up my duffel and stashed it in the locker, making sure it was secured.
Heading back into the bar, I ran into a cluster of the ‘girls’. In uniform I was ‘La Capitana’. Out of uniform I was one of the gang, except I wasn’t looking to marry a military man. Since I wasn’t competition, they elevated me to girlfriend status.
After some girly screams and hugs, we leaned against the bar to scope out the evening’s choices. I was good at screening out the married men and one-nighters, and preached to the younger girls to stay away from the newbies fresh out of boot camp. Those boys were far from home, family and friends. It wasn’t a surprise when they latched onto the first set of boobs pointing their direction. They were easily led down the aisle and it seldom ended well.
Delgado didn’t like me giving man-hunter tips, but I’d rather be a matchmaker than see the fallout of a short marriage, eighteen years of child support and a lifetime of resentment. That the girls listened to me meant they wanted more too.
I pointed out the young man from the tram, putting the nix on him. Scanning the room for better catches, I saw Delgado watching me from a corner table. Thank you, God! Surprisingly, Lutz sat across from him, both leaning their chairs up against the wall. I didn’t have to ask how they met up. Casey, Officer Ricardo Castro Delgado, was still in uniform and wore it so well it got my heart beating for a whole different reason. “You’re on your own, girls.”
“Ohhh, your man’s here.” One of the girls snickered over my shoulder. “And your yummy friend too. Together?” She gave me a raised eyebrow.
“He’s my patrol partner. Don’t make anything of it.” I left them, weaving my way through the tables.
Both men dropped their chairs and got up as I approached. “Beth.” Casey gave me a kiss. Quick and simple. Neither of us were much on PDA.
“Glad to see introductions are done.” The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Good, no macho posturing, though Casey’s arm was around me, his hand stroking my back.
Despite our usual avoidance of being touchy-feely, I wanted his arms around me. Deep down in my guts I knew I was in some kind of trouble I wasn’t prepared for. For the first time ever, I wanted him to protect me, but I couldn’t give in to irrational fear. I needed a clear head. I pointed to Lutz’s phone pocket, wiggling my fingers. “Were you already here?”
“I was on my way.” He frowned, taking his phone out and handing it to me.
I took my own out. There was an ancient large stereo speaker behind our table, the jukebox was already cranking out old 70-80’s music. I put the phones on top the speaker. Delgado volunteered his own. He leaned over my shoulder, but looked at Lutz as he whispered. “What the hell is up?”
CHAPTER
5
He listened as I quickly described what happened in the mountains, only stopping as a fresh round of beers appeared. I told him about the undisturbed drop boxes and the strange men who cornered us, threatened us. That they had been monitoring us enough to know our names. Then the marks under my car.
I left out the weird images that surrounded the Smirker. I wasn’t so sure they were real.
Maybe too much heat. If not for Lutz having the same experience, I might have written the entire day off to hallucinations.
Casey looked worried. “I haven’t been getting reports of upped patrols across the border, but we have noticed a drop in numbers too. Our analysts are looking at other parts of the fence to see if we need to reassign assets. It could be that it’s just been hotter this summer.”
“It hasn’t stopped them before.” I stared at Lutz. “Four days, eighteen drop boxes. Two separate runs. No hits. How many grabs have you made of people who came through the Tinajas this month?” Casey’s face crinkled, confirming what I thought. None. “We both got bad feelings these freaks might have something to do with it.”
Lutz backed me up with a nod.
“A group close to the relief stations, and too ‘secret’ for anyone to give you a heads up that they’re around…” Casey still wasn’t on board with our suspicions. “Not the first time agencies didn’t share info. None of the other patrols reported anything strange?”
“They’re not as good as me. I wouldn’t have noticed, except for the mistakes they made covering their tracks. You can bet your sweet ass everyone else definitely missed the signs.”
Lutz gave an eye roll and opened his mouth, but Casey held his hand up to stop him. “She’s not boasting. I’ve been out hunting with her and she never comes home empty-handed. Ever.” Casey let out a sigh. “Okay, so this group stops you, warns you to stay away and to keep your mouths shut, then lets you go. Why would they screw with your car? They had you out where you could disappear and it would take days, weeks, or never to find your bodies.”
“I don’t know. Because it would bring more people into the mountains looking for us?”
“So they rigged your car. Did they screw with yours?” Casey looked to Lutz.
“Don’t have one. Girlfriend’s driving it out next month.”
“Have you been to your room yet?” I darted my eyes around the bar, feeling that itch between my shoulders again as the topic turned to possible sabotage. “You don’t have a roommate and you’ve been gone for four days.”