by Glenn Trust
“Who’s your friend with the boat?”
“Bob Sims,” Sole said without a pause. “Has a house on the lake outside Gainesville. Keeps the damn boat tied up at a dock right at his house.” Sole shook his head, grinning a good old boy grin. “Damn, if Bob didn’t make it big, not like the rest of us hillbillies he left behind in Tennessee.”
There were thousands of boats on Lake Lanier. One of them might even be owned by a Bob Sims. It didn’t matter. Sole would be long gone if the officer even bothered to verify his story.
“That boy can drink some beer. I swear he could drink three of us under the table when we were in school,” Sole chattered on. “That’s why we’re drinking on the boat … you know, legal and all … tied up at that dock of his. Don’t worry we’ll be sober by morning when we head for some bass, but tonight we …”
“Move on, Mr. Myers.” The officer handed back the license and registration. Go straight ahead for two blocks, then turn right until you hit Highway 19. Take it south to Highway 53, then left to Lake Lanier. Follow the signs. Good night.”
“Thanks, officer,” Sole said, taking the license from his hand and craning his neck to see around the officer up the driveway. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Are those bodies?”
Sole had seen body bags before. There was no doubt what the attendants were rolling down the driveway to the waiting hearses.
“Move on,” the officer barked.
Sole nodded and accelerated slowly away from the scene. Fear clenched his gut. Three bodies. Was one Billy? Did the enemy on the phone lie? Or had three more people paid with their lives for his mistakes. This had to end.
He drove to the outskirts of Dahlonega and pulled into the old motel parking lot. Inside the room, Monty heard three taps on the door and rose from the bed. He opened the door to find his son standing there, started to smile and stopped. The look on John’s face made it plain that there was a problem, a big one.
“What’s the matter?” Monty stepped aside to allow John to enter.
“Do you still want to help?”
“Always,” his father replied.
Blood and Fresh Meat
“We will leave tonight.”
Alejandro Garza spoke slowly, reviewing in his mind the myriad details of his plan. Bebé would want all the specifics along with a promise that it would be done quickly.
“You spoke with your North American?” Bebé Elizondo asked mildly.
“Yes.”
“And he agreed to the exchange?”
“He did, but it is not as simple as that.”
“Explain, please Alejandro,” Elizondo sighed. “I thought I made it clear that it is time to bring this matter to a conclusion.”
“I understand, and the end is now in sight.”
Garza outlined the plan. Speaking in his usual calm, deliberate manner, unruffled by Elizondo’s impatience, he promised the total elimination of their adversary.
“Very well,” Elizondo said as the briefing ended. “Carry out your plans quickly, Alejandro.”
“I promise to return soon,” Garza said. “Two more weeks and this is finished.”
In the SUV’s rear cargo area, Isabella had emerged far enough from her drug-induced coma to follow the conversation in Spanish between the tall man in the front seat and someone on the phone. She listened to the plan as Garza explained it to Bebé.
John had warned them about these people. They would stop at nothing, never forget, and never stop trying to find a way to get to him, to eliminate him. Now, despite their new identities and everything he had done to lead them away, they found what made him vulnerable—his friends.
“Where are we going,” She said, shaking her head to clear away the cobwebs inside.
Billy Siever stirred in the middle passenger seat and sat up. Isabella’s eyes opened wide.
“Billy! I didn’t know they … how …”
Beside her, a man she had never seen rolled over and sat up. Like her, he was bound hand and foot with duct tape.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Luis Acero, eyes wide with terror, shook his head. Of the three captives, he alone had the clearest understanding of who their captors were and what was going to happen to them.
A man in the middle seat beside Billy turned and pointed a pistol over the seat at her face.
“Sit back and shut up. You will see soon enough.” He grinned. “I don’t think you will want to rush things.”
“Leave them alone,” the tall man in front said.
The man with the gun grunted and turned back, giving Billy a push that forced him down to the floorboards and out of sight from Isabella. Isabella’s mind was whirling with questions. Were Sandy or Jacinta harmed? Were they aware of what had happened? Had the kidnappers harmed Sam? What would John want them to do?
She knew he would want them to not lose hope, keep fighting, and trust that he was coming to find them. Until then, find a way to stay alive.
The SUV sped along a country road. The night rushed by in the wind, dark and forboding. After what seemed an eternity, but probably was only a couple of hours, the vehicle slowed, and the driver pulled down a lane running through a grove of trees.
Isabella’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. Was this the place they would take their revenge? Leave their bodies in the woods?
The drive through the woods only lasted a few minutes. The SUV emerged into a wide-open area that looked like pasture land. A wide path was cut and graded through the pasture. Isabella’s head swiveled, trying to take everything in.
A plane sat at one end of the graded path. Its marker lights were off, but the interior lights showed it to be a small jet, like the ones business executives used. Two men stood on the ground by the plane’s open door, chatting. Another sat in the cockpit, his headset on, eyes focused on the control panel as he prepared the aircraft for flight.
The two men by the door were smiling. One was dressed in blue jeans and a denim work shirt. To Isabella, he looked like a local farmer. The other wore slacks and a white shirt with epaulets on the shoulders, denoting his status as one of the aircraft’s pilots.
The SUV pulled up beside the jet. The driver and front passenger, the tall man, got out and came around to pull Isabella and the man with her from the cargo space. The one who had pointed the gun at her dragged Billy out.
One by one, the men lifted their captives and dragged them up the steps into the plane, forcing them into seats and belting them in. When they were all on board, the tall man went back outside where the pilot was joking with the farmer.
“Everything okay?” the farmer asked.
His name was Silas Brandt. The Brandt family had been farming the land fifty miles north of Greensboro, North Carolina since before the Civil War and had always found a way to remain profitable, even as the days of slavery and sharecroppers faded away. Today, Silas was going to make a quick ten thousand dollars by allowing the unknown but friendly strangers the use of his private airstrip.
“Everything is as we directed,” the tall man, Garza, said.
“Good. Then that’s another five thousand in payment. That was the deal. Five up front and five when you got loaded.”
Brandt smiled, waiting for the cash to be placed into his outstretched hand. Garza nodded and reached into his pocket.
There was only a moment of surprise on Brandt’s face before it exploded in a cloud of red. The pilot had already turned and started up the stairs into the cockpit as the shot rang out. Garza followed and secured the door behind him.
The engines spooled up. The runway was barely long enough for the jet’s takeoff, but the pilots were skilled. The cartel only paid for the best. As they climbed, Isabella saw the tops of trees passing a few feet below the plane, then they were gone and everything below was black.
In the field below, Silas Brandt lay on his back in a pool of blood, the surprise frozen on his face. A family of raccoons emerged from the woods, attracted by the scent of blood and fresh meat.<
br />
Getting Started
“You.” Sandy opened the door wide and stared in surprise at the man on the porch.
“Hello, Sandy,” Sole said.
“Where’s …” Sandy leaned to the side to see the man behind John. “Who is this?”
“A friend. Can we come in?”
Jacinta came up behind Sandy, looked over his shoulder, and grinned. “John! Yes, please come in. Sandy move and let them in.”
Sandy stepped aside. Sole entered the small but tidy living room, followed by Monty. He had been there once before, the day they arrived in Georgia. When he left that same day, he’d had no intention of returning.
That was before. Things had changed. His plans had come apart.
“Mom’s not here,” Sandy said.
A round-faced man with a worried look on his face came out of the kitchen. He frowned when he saw the two men.
“What is it, Chris?” he asked.
“Friends,” Sandy said, turning. “This is John and …”
“Monty,” the older man said with a smile.
“Oh. I thought it might be your mother.” The concern on his face deepened.
Sandy turned back to Sole. “Mom is missing. Sam came back from an appointment and found the office empty. We called the police a few hours ago and reported her missing. They took the report but said there was no evidence of a crime and sometimes people just decide to disappear so there wasn’t much to do except put out an alert on the police radio in case anyone spotted her.” His eyes narrowed. “You know my mom. She would never just disappear.”
“Yes,” Sole agreed. “We need to talk.”
“What’s going on?” Sam Goodwin stepped forward to face Sole. His eyes narrowed. “You’re the one from her past. She never talks about you, but I know there was someone.”
Sole nodded. “I suppose I am. Isabella and I …”
“Isabella?” Sam’s brow furrowed. “Who the hell is Isabella?”
“Sorry. I mean, Abby.” Sole shook his head. It was a stupid blunder. Goodwin only knew her as Abigail Banks. No matter, he decided. He was about to learn more than he probably wanted about the woman he planned to marry.
Sam looked at Sandy. “I suppose you aren’t actually Chris Banks, and …” He nodded at Jacinta. “She’s not Margarita.”
“Sorry, we lied to you, Sam. We had to.” Sandy grimaced, nodded, and touched his chest. “Sandy Palmeras. My mom is Isabella Palmeras, and this is Jacinta Martinez.”
“What the hell is going on?” Sam slumped into a chair and shook his head. “I thought … I mean we were going to be married, and now this.” He looked up at Sandy. “Was everything a lie?”
“No. Mom cares for you … loves you. That wasn’t a lie.”
Sole watched the shock spread across the man’s face and couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. He was in love with a woman and didn’t even know her true name.
“Can we talk?” Sole asked. “I can explain everything.”
“Talk,” Sam said, looking up from the chair, his face a mask of confusion and pain.
Sole gave an abridged version of his past and how Isabella became a target of the Los Salvajes cartel. Out of respect for Sam’s feelings, he omitted details about the intimacy that he had shared with Isabella and his personal feelings for her.
He concluded by saying, “I came here because I need your help.”
“We have to call the police … the FBI … somebody,” Sam said, rising from the chair.
“No.” Sole stepped in front of him. “If they even suspect that law enforcement is involved, they will kill her immediately along with the others. These people won’t negotiate. The bodies won’t be found. The killers will disappear and never be tracked down.”
“Seems like you’ve dragged a lot of innocent people into your shit storm,” Sam snapped.
“I have.” The words stung but they were true and Sole could only nod and agree. “I’m sorry for that.”
“So the only way to get them back is for you to turn yourself over to the cartel in exchange for their release.” Sam stared at Sole. “And you are willing to do this?”
“I am willing to do whatever is necessary to get Isabella and the others out safely.”
“Isabella.” Sam shook his head. “Every time you say that I have to remind myself you are talking about Abby, the woman I love and intend to marry.”
“Sorry,” Sole said. “I’ll try to remember to call her by her new name.”
“No.” Sam shook his head. “No more lies … not to me … not if I am going to be involved in this. Isabella, Sandy, and Jacinta.” He said the names slowly, nodding as he said each. “These are the people I have come to care about. I can’t do this for strangers.”
“Alright.” Sole nodded.
Billy Siever was right. Sam Goodwin was a good man.
“What do we do?” Sam asked.
“We make a plan and try to survive.”
Sam nodded. “Let’s get started.”
Reinforcements
They made the trip to Albuquerque, driving all night and the following day. Sole drove his pickup, alternating Monty. Sandy and Jacinta rode in Sam’s car, taking turns at the wheel when fatigue overcame the driver. The only stops were for gas, restrooms, and fast food to eat as they drove.
When they pulled off I-40, Sole led them to an alley behind a store on a small inner-city street. He got out and walked to the back door. The others watched from the vehicles.
The store was closed. Sole used the key Edgar Dupart had given him and went up the stairs to the apartment.
“Bill?” Edgar looked up from the sofa as he walked in.
“Edgar,” Sole smiled. “Good to see you.”
“And you.” Edgar’s brow furrowed. “But I did not expect to see you again so soon.”
“I didn’t expect to be here again so soon, but I could use a favor.”
“What is that?”
“A place to stay.”
“Of course, you can stay with us. You are always welcome. Magdalena and Ben will be happy to see you back so soon.”
“There are five of us, Edgar,” Sole added. “We need a place for a week or two … a place out of sight.”
“I see.” Edgar nodded, lowering his head to look at him over the top of his glasses. “Are you in trouble?”
“Some. I won’t lie, but we need a place to stay, and you are the only people I can trust.”
“Such mystery. You are still on your mission.” It was a statement of fact. There was no point in asking questions about his plans. “Where are your friends?”
“In the alley.”
“Bring them in. I’ll tell Maggie.” He smiled. “Lucky for them it’s her night to prepare dinner.”
Sole led the procession up the back stairs. Maggie greeted him warmly with a hug. Ben stepped forward to shake his hand. Sole turned to make introductions without going into detail about why they were there.
There was a moment of awkward silence when he finished. Maggie stepped forward, put an arm around Jacinta.
“Come with me. You look like you could use a warm bath.”
“I could. Thank you.”
The women moved down the hall. Edgar looked at the men. “Sleeping arrangements may be a little cramped, but I think we can fit you all in.”
“I was going to suggest that Sam and Sandy take the extra room that I used. Monty and I will sleep in here on the sofa and chair.”
“I call the sofa,” Monty said with a grin.
“You got it. I didn’t figure your old-man back could handle the chair.”
That got a chuckle from everyone. It was nothing, just a brief laugh, but it was a relief from the stress of the last few days.
Edgar went into the kitchen and returned with beers. He passed them around and sat in his chair. After a brief silence, he spoke.
“You won’t tell me what this is about, but I would like to ask if you are in danger?”
“Not now.” So
le shook his head. “No one knows we are here. We’ll stay out of sight and keep a low profile so we don’t attract attention.”
“I understand.” Edgar nodded. “I’ll speak with Magdalena and Ben. They won’t say anything.”
“I know,” Sole said, then added, “This is an imposition, and you are concerned for your family. I’m sorry about that, but there is no one else I can trust. I wouldn’t be here if there were.”
“Bah! You are a friend. Friends trust each other and help each other” Edgar smiled and looked at the others. “And now we have four more friends.
When Maggie returned from showing Jacinta the tub, she began preparing dinner. Sole rose, put the empty beer bottle on the counter, and turned for the front door.
“Where are you going, big brother?” Maggie asked.
“To see some people.” He nodded at Monty. “You should come with me.”
Monty sighed and stood, gulping down the last of his beer. “Duty calls.”
The clomped down the stairs to the alley and climbed into Sole’s pickup. He pulled out onto the street and passed in front of Dupart’s Market. Monty studied the name on the sign.
“Nice people,” he said.
“They are,” Sole agreed.
“How did you meet them?”
Sole turned his head and gave a slight smile without responding.
“Okay. Fair enough.” Monty chuckled. “I get it. Just glad you managed to make a few friends you can count on.” He looked at his son. “You can count on me too, you know.”
“I know that. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Alright then. Now that the tender father-son moment is out of the way, maybe you’ll tell me where we’re headed.”
“To find reinforcements,” Sole said seriously.
“Good. I like reinforcements. The more reinforcements, the better.” Monty said, leaning back in the seat and folding his arms over his chest. “Just gonna take a short, old-man nap now. Let me know when we’re there.”
Purgatory
They were all awake and fully conscious when the jet touched down. They were also terrified.