Counter Strike

by Beth Rhodes

  She rolled her eyes. Jokester.

  He took his phone from the seat next to his left leg and handed it over to her. “Go ahead. We’ll both listen.”

  With a roll of her eyes, she stuck the earbud in her ear, and was immediately blasted by hard rock. Really hard, like AC/DC. “That cliché, huh?”

  Not that she’d expected him to be listening to classical but the rough sounds she’d been subjected to month after month in the gym with other fairly meatheaded types. Well… she took the earbud from her ear. “It’s all yours.”

  “I can change it. What do you like? R&B?”

  She pursed her lips at him. “What? Because I’m black?”

  “Well, yeah.” There was a look in his eye, a twinkle? Was that even possible? He was joking with her. “No? How about some John Legend?”

  She actually snorted and a laugh escaped.

  Then she handed the earbud back over. “Thank you. Is that even safe, anyway? You were totally clueless to me talking to you.” She stopped short. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to her. Geez. Was she so self-assured? It hadn’t even occurred to her that he would be avoiding her. A self-deprecating laugh escaped.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just—” She waved off his inquiry. “Nothing.”

  “Are you telling jokes in your head without me?” He glanced her way. “Now who’s being cruel.”

  “No, I just, I had thoughts that I wasn’t going to share with you. And I didn’t mean to react to my thoughts in a manner that was outward. It just happened. I mean, sometimes it happens. I’m fairly impulsive. Reactionary is a better word, I guess. It’s gotten me in trouble before, but if you must know, I was just thinking about how you might be avoiding me with your earbuds. I mean, and here I am, forcing you to—and maybe you don’t even want to be talking right now.”

  “What in the hell—”

  “Well, it’s not that big a deal, is it?” she cut him off, rambling and not really wanting to hear about what a complete boob she was being. Total idiot mode.

  “Get down!” Bobby’s large hand pushed her head between her legs as he slouched behind the wheel. He swerved right, making her body lean toward him. She squealed—embarrassingly.

  The thunk of bullets, hitting the seat above her head, froze her. The force vibrated down her spine to her butt. She grabbed her gun from her ankle holster and poked her head up only to duck back down when a bullet came through the car and splintered the windshield.

  They’d crossed out of the city a while back and were coming up on the Fuentes house. Someone wanted them dead.

  “Maybe it’s the uncle.”

  “Why in fuck would he be shooting?”

  She thought about that. The bullets had stopped flying so she turned in her seat with her gun at the ready and watched the road behind them. “Sky is darkening. We’re getting a storm as well.” Fricking shitstorm, for sure.

  A big white sedan at least forty years old followed them. “Come on. You can lose these guys. They’re in a Cadillac deVille, for Christ’s sake.”

  Bobby scowled at her. Then he pressed on the gas. “Not like there are a lot of places to go out here. Thank you very much.”

  Her phone dinged. She picked it up and read the message. “Malcolm is tracking two vehicles. And Jamie and Missy are getting out of there. I’m assuming we’re one of the vehicles,” she said as she texted back. “Tan says to keep the bad guys from approaching. Let Missy and Jamie get away.”

  With a nod, Bobby slowed down. “You can shoot,” Bobby spoke, maybe not a question but still with a slight rise at the end. He knew she could shoot because they trained together. The entire team, with Emily at their backs, insisting on high marksmanship points.

  “Hell, yeah,” she answered anyway.

  Missy and Jamie pulled onto the road a good hundred yards or more in front of them, spitting rocks as they turned the corner, headed away from them.

  Bobby slowed the vehicle, turned it to sidebar the road, and stopped. “Get out,” he commanded. “We’ll stop them.”

  She didn’t question, just jumped down, rounded the end of the vehicle, using it as a shield, and aimed her gun at the car approaching them.

  The deVille sped up.

  She fired at the right tire. It split, making the hunk of metal shudder and swerve. Bobby took a turn, and his bullet hit the windshield, driver side. The car jerked right and sped up.

  The car wasn’t slowing. It kept coming, faster and faster. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  Bobby kept shooting, as if a bullet would stop the car.

  She grabbed Bobby’s arm and pulled him back. Or was he pulling her back? Together, they scrambled a safe distance as the deVille crushed the Jeep.

  The lone sound of a horn echoed through the sudden silence.

  A loud clap of thunder shook the air and broke her from her shock. The skies were dark but not from nightfall.

  “Come on. It’s gonna rain.” Bobby slipped into the dense woods and began a winding trail back toward the house.

  Slipping into operative mode, she kept one eye on the ground, watching her step as they slipped in and out of the darkening woods of Nina’s property, and one eye on Bobby’s back as he led the way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Ay dios, Jamie.” Missy turned in her seat to see out the back. “Is it always like this?”

  She wasn’t used to all these close calls or the feeling of having her life on the line. Right now, she wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement making her heart pound so hard. No, it was definitely fear.

  “Nina was right about this road.” They’d taken an upgraded version of their first getaway car, another Jeep, but the driving was still tough. Jamie kept one eye on the road ahead and one eye on his rearview. In under ten minutes, they came to the end of the road and turned west. “We should come up on a town here in another twenty minutes or so.” And then he added, “I think.”

  They came over a hill; trees lined each side of the two-lane road. They left the southbound road behind and turned onto a well-used highway. Cars moved by them at a steady pace. It felt so normal when a produce stand welcomed them to a small village.

  Jamie’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, as he glanced up into the rearview mirror again. Too many movies had her turning in the seat to look back. A black sedan cruised behind them about thirty yards, not gaining or losing.

  “Tio?”

  He shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past your uncle to cover all exits.”

  She hated not knowing what he was thinking.

  He stepped on the gas. She glanced behind them. The vehicle maintained its distance, keeping up with them as they burned blacktop and headed out onto the open road.

  “Not a friendly.” He glanced at her feet.

  “I’m ready for anything,” she quickly reassured him.

  “Hopefully anything doesn’t turn into anything bad.”

  “I’m strong, Jamie.”

  “I know,” he answered. “I don’t want you to have to be strong. It should be a bonus, not a necessity.”

  The sedan was gaining—quickly. Their increased speed sent them through another village. “Five miles to the next town,” she said. “Hopefully something bigger?”

  Jamie held the pace, the road quickly passing beneath them.

  She sucked in a breath when the sedan gained on them. They were getting impatient.

  “Hold on,” Jamie said as the other car’s front corner smacked into their rear quarter panel, jerking the Jeep to the left.

  Jamie corrected, accelerating as he did, pushing him out in front of the sedan.

  “How will we lose them?”

  Jamie grunted.

  They entered the town. Small buildings lined each side of the road. Not a metropolis but a good size larger than the last village they’d gone through.

  He downshifted, slowing them as they came through the main square. “When I say go, I want you to lean left, got it?”

  She laughed, ev
en as nerves tortured her stomach. Her hands shook, but she was ready.

  They were headed straight for an old run-down looking auto shop with two glass-paned bay doors. He picked up speed again. “Jamie?” Breathless, she gripped the armrest. “The building isn’t going to move.”

  He went faster.

  Missy squeezed her eyes shut. The bump from behind had her yelping and looking back. She could see faces through the sedan’s windshield now. The man in the passenger seat.

  “Lean,” Jamie said, strain in his voice. He whipped the vehicle around. She grabbed his seat, his arm, whatever she could, as the vehicle one-eighty-ed and shot forward in the direction they’d come from.

  “Holy—” She moved her shoulders, stretched her neck, grateful when everything felt intact. “Did they teach you that in the Marines?”

  Behind them, the sedan had been paying too much attention to them. Brake lights lit up an instant before it wildly turned and sent its front end into the left garage bay. With a shatter of glass and wood, the corner of the auto shop was demolished.

  Movement in her peripheral vision had her grabbing his arm. “Jamie!”

  A kid biked into the road, not ten feet in front of them.

  “Jesus,” Jamie hissed, turning the wheel again. This time, sending them in a spin toward the edge of the road and into the tree line, just barely missing a huge-ass pine tree on her right. The force of their redirection pressed her into the door.

  Seconds felt like minutes as the Jeep went airborne, out into the open, off the edge of the earth. Her heart leapt to her throat an instant before the vehicle slammed into water below, knocking her head back and then forward. Panic rushed through her. The rush of water pressed on her as it fell into the vehicle. She lifted her bag over her head.

  Jamie reached back, lifted his own bag, and tossed it out of the vehicle.

  “Marguerite! Move.” He grabbed her arm and forced her to look at him. She blinked, saw frustration on his face, and unfroze. She reached for the frame of the Jeep, stepped up, and shimmied out through the window opening. With her feet on the door, she jumped clear of the vehicle into the brown water. She scissored her feet to keep that bag out of the water and swam toward land. Jamie was right behind her, helping her as they both struggled up the muddy bank.

  “Keep moving,” he ordered as a barrage of bullets hit the water behind them. Panic leapt to her throat and she scrambled forward, her feet slipping.

  Jamie took two large steps, getting in front of her, and grabbed the back of her pants to propel her up the last bit of the bank and into the jungle of dense trees. She got her feet under her again and moved forward. A bullet struck the tree next to her. She screamed, letting the adrenaline push her even faster, and she shot ahead of Jamie.

  But when she looked back, he frowned at her. “Keep moving,” he demanded.

  She hadn’t shot ahead of him; he was covering her by staying back.

  And they kept going, until soon she couldn’t think, could hardly breathe…and the nausea had come back. Finally, Jamie caught up with her and laid a hand on her shoulder. She slowed—her stomach in a really bad way now—and swallowed. She breathed through her nose and swallowed again.

  And then she lost it.

  Hands splayed against the nearest tree, feet spread, she did her best to keep her stomach from ruining the only clothes she had at this point.

  Behind her, Jamie set his pack on the ground, barely out of breath. His silence said more than any concerned platitude. He knew she wasn’t okay. If she’d thought she could hide it before, now it was impossible.

  When her stomach relaxed, she moved to the opposite side of the clearing and sat on a patch of grass. Her need to rest trumped everything else. “Give me a minute,” she said, knowing the keep-moving part was coming.

  They had to get to Tom’s.

  Martinez…Tio Antonio…whomever was behind them wasn’t going to stop just because they’d crossed a river. They did have bridges up here in Mexico.

  As her stomach settled, Jamie offered her a sip of the energy drink from his pack, but she just shook her head. That wasn’t going to work for her.

  “You need to eat something.”

  “Not yet.” She could be stubborn too. And this time, it wasn’t just stubborn that kept her from following orders. She knew that if she tried to eat anything right now, things would only get worse. “I’m sorry. I promise to eat as soon as my stomach gives me the all clear.”

  Jamie’s gaze set out in the direction they’d come. “We’re going to have to keep moving…and not just because of the bad guys. There’s a storm on the horizon and headed this way.”

  Hadn’t she guessed? She took a sip of water, hoping for the best, and stood. The sky was dark against the setting sun. Fatigue and exhaustion settled in her chest. It was one thing to escape on foot, but something else to do it in the rain. “Let’s go then.”

  He didn’t quite hold her gaze, the wheels of his brain turning, which made her very nervous. “Change of plans.”

  She lifted a brow. “Oh?”

  He was about to put an end to her hopes of staying in Mexico, of even considering to help. Her heart fell, and she was so used to following orders, to being obedient, she could already feel the pull of that instinct deep inside her. To let him have his way…but she didn’t want to—rain or not. “Look—” she started.

  “I know we said we were going to Tom’s, but—”

  “This is my chance, maybe my last time to really do something for my grandmother. I have to at least try.”

  He scratched at his thick red hair and then down to the ginger scruff on his face. “We’re closer to Padre Franco’s home and parish. If you’re serious about finding those photos—”

  “I am,” she said quickly, as hope rose back up into her breast.

  “Then we should head there first. If they’re not at Nina’s…”

  “She might have left them with him.”

  “Exactly.”

  It felt like a long shot. She lifted her pack and settled it on her back.

  One thing was sure, she was going to carry her own weight.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Give me a minute.” Jamie said and rummaged through his bag. He pulled the now soaked radio from his pocket. “Compass, knife, socks, iodine tablets…” He shoved a rope to the side, two lengths, each with a set of D rings. Great, if they planned to rock climb.

  But no phone. “Shit.”

  He looked back the way they’d come. Had he dropped his phone? He took a quick walk and scanned the ground as he did. But in minutes, he stopped. And listened. Off to his right, the steady sound of footfalls made him go completely still.

  “They’re coming,” she whispered from behind him.

  On a long slow exhale, he took a step backward. Beyond where they’d stopped was a grove, thick with trees and undergrowth. His heart pounded. They’d caught up quickly, more quickly than he’d anticipated. “In here. Get down.”

  “But—”

  “Stay down and stay quiet,” he ordered.

  She sat on the ground, her arms wrapped around her legs, bag at her feet. He gave her a quick—hopefully reassuring—smile, then backed out and ran the way they’d come, staying to the lengthening shadows. He slowed when the men’s voices drifted toward him. They were even-toned. They didn’t know he was there. He waited. They were moving in an easterly direction, away from his current location, away from Missy. Jamie waited another moment.

  A mild drizzle began, which would cover the sound of their movement.

  When the men moved beyond him, he went west a hundred meters, before turning back north. In minutes he was back with Missy.

  She didn’t belong here, in danger.

  He glanced up at the dark sky. What a cluster. The rain wasn’t going to stop any time soon, either.

  “You’re back,” she said breathlessly, getting her feet under her. “Don’t leave me behind.”

  He would damn well leave her
somewhere safe if it meant keeping her alive. She took his hand and gripped it hard.

  “They’re headed east.” He went to take her bag, but she objected, keeping her grip on it. “Rule one,” he said, pulling her close. “No arguing. We’re going to go hard and fast—”

  “Mmm, yeah, baby,” she answered with a dose of innuendo and humor, which stopped him. Jamie laughed as she turned and kissed his neck. He backed up and took her chin in his hand, turning her face to him. Her grin was pure Missy. “Behave. We don’t have far, but we need to get out of this area quickly. Also, I’m carrying your bag.”

  He set a hard pace, knowing that the faster they got away, the better.

  An hour past, but still he hesitated to stop.

  She kept up, sometimes at his side and occasionally letting him take the lead. When they’d gone a good six miles, he stopped them inside a treeline at the edge of a road.

  Dirt roads meant vehicles and civilization.

  “Take a minute,” he said, giving them a break.

  Missy pulled a water bottle from her bag and sipped at it. A sheen of sweat covered her.

  “How you feeling?”

  “Don’t,” she said, even as she heaved a deep breath. “We’re in this together. We’ll get to Padre Franco’s even if we have to do a marathon to get there.”

  He cringed inside. “No changing your mind, even now?”

  “No.”

  “These guys—”

  “Killed my father,” she spoke sharply. “Are killing my people and sending their cocaine into your country. They will kill you to get to me—for him. The loyalty will stop when Martinez is taken out of power,” she hesitated, “or dead.”

  Jamie’s heart filled with fear. So much fear but also pride.

  “He thinks he can control Martinez, control the power.”

  “But you know he can’t.”

  Her shoulders fell. “I’m done living in the shadows of my past, done hiding. I hate being afraid, Jamie. I’m always afraid.”

  He’d protected her, but he had no control over the fear. “Your life means more to me than this revenge—”

  She stiffened at his side, and he knew she wanted to argue. Instead, she took his hand and kissed his palm. “I guess I thought ignoring my past would be okay. I thought I could be happy letting it go and just…being boring.”