by James Hilton
She did not resist as he gently slipped the pistol from her hand. Her eyes closed… so tired… His words wrapped her like a mother’s embrace.
Mama…
Lauren, sweet Lauren.
Her hand closed upon the metal rod in her pocket. When she opened her eyes, the pistol was inches from her face. Ezeret’s words were now broken glass to her ears. “You stupid whore! Who are you to challenge me? You are a piece of worthless shit. And you want to know the truth? I have no idea who you are. You said we killed your sister? I don’t remember her either. You are maggots, not worthy of remembering.”
Come home, chile, come home.
“I’m coming, Mama.” Ghost surged from the seat as Ezeret pulled the trigger.
The bullet punched into her chest. Dead centre.
Ghost slumped back into the ornate chair, its legs scraping on the tiled floor. She couldn’t feel her arms or legs anymore.
Ezeret staggered back. The pistol clattered to the ground, the sound hollow. The titanium rod that had once held Lauren’s broken leg together now protruded from both sides of his neck. He wrenched the improvised stiletto free. Two streams of blood pumped in a frantic rhythm from his ruptured throat.
You did him good, chile. You did him good.
Ezeret turned, gagging, and ran, blood spraying as he went. He managed to reach the doorway before he crashed, face down. A dark pool grew around his head.
Ghost felt no fear as she relaxed into the chair, her breath fading to nothing, the smallest of smiles on her mouth. “I’m coming, Mama.”
84
Clay raised his head. The crossbow bolt was gone, a large gauze pad now in its place. A wall-mounted widescreen TV sat opposite his bed. The sound was muted. Clay smiled as Danny rose from his seat and perched on the edge of the bed.
“You’re awake. I was starting to wonder if you had paid one of those nurses to slip you some extra sedatives or something. How’re you feeling?”
Clay lied. “I feel fine.”
“Yeah, right,” said Danny. “The doctor had to open you up from both sides just to get the bolt out. He said you may experience some numbness but should make a full recovery with a lot of physio. I told him you were pretty numb before you got shot.”
“Dumbass.”
“At your service,” said Danny.
“Where’s Celine?”
“Don’t worry, Clay, she’s just a few doors away. All the kids are in observation. They’re all on hydration drips. I think there will be a lot of stressed-out but very relieved parents here soon.”
“You sure she’s okay? I want to see her as soon as I can.”
“I’ll get her in a minute. The cops are here as well. They’ve had a run at me already. I was a wee bit selective when it came to bodies hitting the floor. I jumped up and down a fair bit and they’re sending a team back to the compound. They should find anyone that didn’t make it out with us.”
“Good.”
“I called Jacob Silverstein, like you asked. He’s flying down today with a legal team and some guy called Rainer Brown from the FBI. He a friend of yours?”
“Friend of a friend. He’ll help getting everyone back home to their families.”
“I don’t like the way the local cops were looking at me,” said Danny. “They seem very pissed at us. Silverstein will have his work cut out when he gets here.”
“Jacob will have them jumping through hoops in ten minutes. Don’t say anything else to the cops until he gets here.”
Danny stood at the side of the bed and slowly twisted at the waist. The groan he gave said far more than words.
“You okay under the hood?”
Danny wobbled his hand. “I’d be full of holes if it wasn’t for the vest I took from the first lot of Espadas. That arsehole with the white hair shot me from behind. My arse end looks like a domino.”
“But you set him straight, right?”
“Kinda. I put a hole in him big enough to drive a scooter through.”
“Good. That was the same asshole that knocked me into the sinkhole with a grenade.”
A tap on the door caught their attention. Clay’s face lit up, the scars on his face crinkling. “Celine! Come on in, little darlin’.”
Celine trotted into the private ward and hugged Clay.
“Did you manage to call your parents yet?” asked Clay.
Celine nodded, tears running down her face. “Mom was kinda hysterical.”
Clay stroked Celine’s hair. “We’ll be home soon.”
Celine climbed on the bed, her arms around Clay. She was asleep in seconds.
Danny kept his voice quiet. “I’ll head back to the hotel and pick up our passports. We may need them pretty soon.”
Clay nodded, his eyes closing.
85
Clay and Celine were both still asleep when the door to their room opened. Danny looked up from the magazine he was half reading, thoughts of marlin fishing forgotten. “Jak?”
“You look surprised to see me.”
“Actually, I’m not.” Danny rose from his seat and shook the old man’s hand. “Where’s Chaac?”
“He’s outside. He didn’t care for being left out there, I can tell you that.” Jak smiled and nodded at Clay’s sleeping form. “I see the hero twins prevailed.”
“Aye, aye, the hero twins made it back from the underworld.”
“I knew you would.” Jak took Danny’s chair without asking. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Ghost, too, walked the path of the righteous warrior. I pulled her from her car. It was shot full of holes and was on fire. There were others in the car, but I could do nothing for them. She should have died there but she would not give up. We went back to the compound.”
“Jesus, I thought she died in the car.”
“Ghost fell at the compound, but she took the leader down before she went into the forever night.”
“She got Ezeret? That’s good. She was a hell of a woman. May the next world be better to her than this one was.” Danny slowly rubbed his face. “And you’re sure she got Ezeret?”
Jak gave a single nod. “I’m sure.”
Danny lowered his head in tribute. He hadn’t even known her real name. She had given everything. Jak twisted in his seat. Danny looked down at him, his head cocked to one side. “How did you get here? How did you know where we were?”
“I went back to the clearing where I first met you both. I drove your Jeep back here. I may have eaten some of the food that was left in there… well, Chaac ate some of it too.”
Danny smiled. “But how did you know where to find us?”
“I am Jak. I know things.”
“Like that explains everything?”
“It does for me,” replied Jak.
“Are you staying a while? I know Clay will want to see you when he wakes up.”
“I’ll be here until you head home.”
“That’s great. We owe you so much, Jak.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “De nada.”
“At least let us take you out for a steak dinner. It’s going to be a day or so before we can fly home. You up for that?”
Jak gave him a sly look. “I’m not really dressed for a dinner date.”
“If we bought you some new duds, would you eat with us then?”
“If you insist. I would need new boots as well.”
“No problem.”
“Maybe a hat?”
“Anything you want, you old chancer.”
The smile dropped from Jak’s face. He leaned closer to Danny. “You both still have many challenges to endure. The path you walk is not a path of peace.”
Danny shrugged. “The Gunn family motto is ‘either peace or war’. I’m easy with both.”
Jak reached out and took Danny’s hand. “You have walked through fire before, but this is nothing compared to what lies ahead for you and Clay. Dark clouds are gathering, and you know what they bring.”
There was no humour in his
voice.
86
The taxi ride from Miami International Airport to Coral Gables was an easy run. Danny settled back in the cab, still bruised and sore. Chrissie Haims didn’t start work until six in the evening on a Sunday. Plenty of time for the reunion he had planned.
As expected, Jacob Silverstein and his team had secured their release from the Mexican authorities and had helped the survivors reunite with their families. The story had made international news. The DEA had offered their services to the Mexican government to help scour the compound for evidence of the perpetrators. Several more women had been rescued by the joint task force, and were even now being reunited with their families.
Marco had undergone emergency surgery in Cancún and was expected to make a slow recovery. The bullet had torn up his stomach, but miraculously missed his other major organs.
Danny, Celine and Clay had flown back to Texas together, along with her school friends. After spending a couple of days relaxing with Clay and his surrogate family, Danny had decided to leave them to their own devices and had hopped on a plane back to Miami.
The street was quiet as he climbed from the taxi. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the front door, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
There was a line of yellow tape sealing the closed door. An icy hand gripped his heart.
As Danny reached the door, a voice from behind caused him to spin.
“Hey, what’s your business here?”
Danny glowered at the man. “And who might you be?”
“Bob Spengler. I live two doors down.”
“I’m a friend of Chrissie’s. What happened here?”
The man walked up the path. “You haven’t heard? I’m so sorry, man. Chrissie was murdered two days ago. The cops think it was a home invasion gone wrong.”
The flowers landed at Danny’s feet. “Have the cops arrested anyone for it?” His words felt like broken glass in his throat.
“Not according to the morning news. I’m sorry, man. Were you good friends?”
Danny didn’t answer. He pulled out his phone, casting a look at the fallen flowers. Chrissie’s favourites.
Thick raindrops began to cast dark spots on the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry, man,” said Bob, pointing to the sky, “I gotta go. There’s a storm coming.”
Danny picked the first name on his contact list. The call was answered on the fifth ring.
“Clay, it’s Danny. I’m so sorry, but I need you.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A novel is a many-faceted creation. The story is just the beginning. I would like to thank the following people for their help, support, guidance and services:
Wendy Hilton, for indulging me.
Miranda, Sam, Lydia and Philippa from Titan Books.
My brother, Matt Hilton.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
James Hilton is the author of Search and Destroy and Fight or Die, the first two novels in the Gunn Brothers series. He is a 4th Dan Blackbelt in Shotokan Karate, and has worked as a martial arts instructor, which has been invaluable in crafting his fight scenes. He is currently planning a YA series. He lives in Carlisle. His brother is bestselling thriller author Matt Hilton.