Supernova

by Desiree Holt

  What the fuck was taking Ruben so long? How big could a crawl space be? And what was that stomping that he suddenly heard overhead?

  At the point his temper was ready to boil over, Ruben’s feet appeared and he lowered himself to the chair, then the bed.

  “We’ve been scammed,” he told Barrera. “You will not like this one bit.”

  Barrera clenched his fists. “What did you find?”

  “This is more than just a crawl space. It’s a little bigger and it has a sleeping bag, some other items scattered around, and even a little window, which is open. But that’s not the worst of it.”

  “What more could there be?” he demanded.

  “There’s another trap door, this one in the ceiling of this little attic, that leads to the roof, so I went up there. I’m guessing Mallory Kane spent time up there those last couple of days. I’m pretty sure it’s also the way she got out of this house without being seen. This roof has a short lip all the way around and one side has the marks of some kind of rope ladder. All she had to do was climb down and take off with whoever was helping her.”

  “And who the fuck would that be? Certainly not any of the Albados, including that bitch nurse, Inez. They took enough chances hiding her. No, someone’s helping her and I want to know who the fuck it is.” He glared at Ruben. “Understood?”

  “Si, mi general. I will put someone on it at once.”

  “And while you’re at it, arrange for a truck and have some of the men clear out this house. If the Albados do return, I want them to find nothing but bare walls. They have forfeited all their possessions.”

  “Consider it done.” Vidal hurried out to the front of the house where the rest of the men were awaiting orders.

  Barrera headed after him, the men left in the room following behind him. Outside he saw there were still some official vehicles, although a few had left to carry out Ruben’s orders. But neighbors were crowded in front of every house, watching, fear etched on their faces.

  “Your neighbors have broken the laws of Santa Marita,” he told them. “They will be punished accordingly. Keep this in mind if you are ever tempted to do the same thing.”

  His driver held open the door to his official vehicle and he climbed into the back seat. He needed a drink. Badly. Suddenly there were cracks in his carefully constructed existence, in his own little kingdom. He could not allow that to happen. He would ferret out every single soul who had a hand in this and punish them accordingly, especially that bitch Mallory Kane. It was the only way to maintain his control of the country and the level of fear he had created.

  And he had to do it soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The best thing about walking through the jungle, Rocket thought, was the canopy of trees overhead, which shielded them from the sun. The worst thing about walking through the jungle was the canopy of trees overhead, which locked in the heat. It was like strolling through a steam oven. Good thing he’d had plenty of practice during his years as a SEAL.

  He scanned the others as they made their way slowly over the exposed tree roots, pushing aside the thick leaves of the dense bushes, doing their best to scratch themselves as little as possible. The men all wore long pants and running shoes of some type. They had, after all, dressed to pretend they were fishermen. But Mallory wore what she’d had on at the Albados’. Shorts and a T-shirt weren’t much protection, and nor were the leather sandals on her feet. But she soldiered on without complaining once.

  Again, he made a mental note to himself to arrange some special pampering if they got out of this. No, not if. When. Because their life together wasn’t going to end before it even got started.

  The thick silence was broken occasionally by the song of one of the many species of birds that flitted from tree to tree. The bright hues of their feathers were pops of color against the unremitting green of the flora. Rocket checked every time there was a rustling of leaves to make sure it wasn’t a snake slithering toward them or one of the small aninals looking to take a bite out of someone’s body.

  Then of course there were the predators, although the larger ones like the jaguar had long since become extinct. He wasn’t as much worried about lizards and tree frogs as he was about snakes. Ed had pulled out his many-bladed pocketknife when they started out, broken thick branches over some of the bushes and whittled handles on them. Now they each had an instrument that doubled as both a walking stick and a weapon.

  Ed had also taken the lead, since it was agreed he had a better idea of where they were going than anyone else. The watches the Galaxy men wore all had compass functions in them, but nothing beat familiarity with an area. Rocket knew they were all worried about Ed’s ability and endurance with the prosthetic. It had to be killing him, but he showed no outward signs of stress. And he kept up a steady rhythm both walking and striking at the bushes to dislodge small predators and beat off snakes.

  The man also seemed to have an endless supply of whatever was needed. From the cabinet under the little counter, he’d produced a handful of thin, flat backpacks.

  “Not ideal,” he’d told them, “but they were only meant to carry a few things if someone was stashed here and had to vacate in a hurry. They’ll do for this. It shouldn’t take us more than four hours to reach the cliff. It’s about five miles.” He’d looked at Mallory. “Think you can handle this?”

  Four hours?

  She’d managed a smile. “If the only other alternative is Barrera, I can definitely make it. I work out at home to stay in shape.”

  “Good deal. Okay. Load up, everyone.”

  They’d divvied up bottles of water and power bars, and the small flashlights Ed also distributed. Then they’d pulled on the backpacks and headed out. Now they were following Ed as he led them on a twisting route. There wasn’t even a real path to walk, so they had to be extremely careful.

  It was impossible to tell how much daylight was left because the thick canopy of leaves and branches overhead blocked so much of it out. Dead leaves rustled beneath their feet and the notes of songbirds broke the silence now and then. Ed was still using his stick to make sure no snakes crawled up their legs.

  After about an hour, Ed held up his hand and called a stop.

  “Ten-minute rest break.”

  “We’re good to keep going,” Rocket assured him.

  “You won’t be if you don’t take a break. Forget your training already? I’m guessing you guys haven’t done any forty-mile hikes in full battle rattle since you became civilians, right?”

  “We keep in shape,” Blaze assured him. “But yeah, a ten-minute stop to hydrate is a good idea.”

  Ed pulled a bottle of water from his pack, drank greedily then turned to them.

  “I hope you guys aren’t worried about me. I can do as far on my fake leg as you all can do on both of yours. No lie.”

  “Don’t worry about me, either,” Mallory told them. “Like I said before, I work out all the time. I won’t hold anyone up.”

  Rocket swallowed a smile. She was just as gutsy as she’d been five years ago and he was exceptionally proud of her.

  Blaze pulled his sat phone out of his backpack. “I’m going to touch base with Saint. Tell him about where we are. I’d guesstimate we’re about three hours from pickup. Is that about right, Ed?”

  “Yup. Check in, then let’s get moving again. We’ve got extra daylight because it’s summer, but there isn’t that much of it left.”

  Blaze finished his call and turned back to the others.

  “Saint said he did a flyover after he got the first call from us. Although the strip between the edge of the jungle and the edge of the cliff is very rocky, he spotted a couple of smooth places large enough to set down for a few minutes. He also said because of the geography, it’s very windy there, so the minute he lands, we need to be ready to board.”

  “I think we can all agree none of us wants to hang around,” Ed agreed. “All right. Let’s get moving again, folks.”

  They adjusted
their packs and started forward again. Without being too obvious, Rocket positioned himself behind Mallory.

  “You watching my rear?” she teased.

  “I’d like to do a lot more with your rear than watch it,” he told her in a low voice. “So make sure you don’t put it in the line of fire.”

  She grinned. “Yes, boss.”

  * * * *

  It was Saturday night as usual in Santa Marita. Parties were in full swing on many of the boats in the marina. The streets were crowded with people looking for a little fun, a little joy in their lives. Those who chose to get off the water for a while, as well as the residents who liked to let it out on the weekend, filled the more upscale restaurants and bars. At many of the places frequented by the natives, local musicians played familiar salsa music. At others, loudspeakers poured the sound out into the streets.

  There was no music or celebration at the presidential palace, however, after the aborted raid. Felix Barrera had retreated to his office after the failure at the Albados. He poured a shot of brandy into a cut-crystal glass and tossed it back with one swallow. Then he poured another and carried it with him to his desk.

  Instead of sitting, he paced his office, consumed with anger and the hunger for revenge. In all his years in this business, first with the Sinaloa cartel then running his own in a country he owned, he didn’t recall ever being in a rage as intense as this.

  It was that fucking bitch, Mallory Kane. Everything was fine until she had come to Santa Marita, sticking her nose into his business. Why hadn’t his men given him earlier warning that this stranger seemed to be overly interested in what was going on in his country?

  “Where in the hell could the Albados be hiding?” he demanded of Ruben, who stood in front of the desk. “You’ve had men watching every form of exit.”

  “I have, and there’s been no sighting of them.”

  “Even at the marina? It’s hard to be inconspicuous there. The docks are all under guard so someone would have spotted them. Could they have disguised themselves so well without anyone noticing it? And where did this transformation take place, if there was one?”

  “Whoever is helping these people is no novice,” Ruben pointed out. “I’m not saying they got the Albados onto a boat or boats, but if they did, it was done so cleverly no one tipped to it. That takes people with experience and connections.”

  “I want a list of every single boat that was docked yesterday,” he demanded, “along with the name of the owner and-or the captain. And I want it now.”

  He was annoyed when Ruben shook his head.

  “I will do anything you ask, you know that, but I have to say this is a waste of time. Any boats they might be on are long gone and we don’t even know where. It would be a useless waste of our resources.”

  “Fuck.” Barrera pounded his fist on the desk. “Mierde! All right, then. I want to turn this country upside down looking for Mallory Kane. Check every place of business, every home, every shack. And I want regular updates.”

  Ruben nodded. “Let me get the men working on it. I’ll be right back.”

  Barrera lit a cigar and took a long, slow draw on it. He seemed to be smoking a lot of them lately, but he supposed it was better than drugs. He’d seen what his merchandise could do to people. He trusted Ruben to give all the men their marching orders, and to monitor things so every area was covered. He’d been kept up to date on the reports from the checkpoints. That was an ongoing process since there were so many of them.

  And yet, somehow, the bitch had managed to escape them.

  He was still doing his best to control his temper when Ruben returned, followed by a very ordinary little man in a wrinkled uniform who looked very nervous. Barrera frowned, annoyed at the lack of respect for the official clothing and wondering what the hell Ruben was doing bring the man here.

  “What’s going on?” He snapped the words at Ruben. “You know I don’t allow the lowest rank of soldiers in my office. Send him back where he came from.”

  “Meet Bruno Elizondo, Presidente. He is a private in the Santa Marita military. I think you will find what he has to say very interesting and perhaps even wish to reward him.”

  “It better be damn fucking important,” Barrera spat. “We have too much going on right now for me to take time to listen to gossip.”

  “Not gossip,” Ruben assured him and turned to the soldier. “All right, Bruno. Tell him what you told me.”

  Bruno licked his lips, a nervous gesture. “I have been making the coffee runs to the checkpoints,” he began. “An assignment, I assure you, that I have been honored to fulfill.” He paused, and Barrera frowned.

  “That’s it?” He looked at Ruben. “You waste my time with this?”

  Ruben shook his head. “Listen to it all. Go ahead, Ruben.”

  “I was at a coffee bar late last night filling an order. It was very crowded but I particularly noticed four men who looked as if they did not belong there. I could tell they weren’t citizens or soldiers or part of any activities of Santa Marita.”

  He paused and Ruben gestured for him to continue.

  “I managed to overhear them. I am unremarkable, Senor Presidente, so people pay little attention to me. They were discussing the checkpoints and the Mallory Kane woman that everyone is looking for.”

  Barrera sat up straight in his chair, a tiny thrill skittering through him.

  “You heard the name?”

  Bruno nodded. “I did. I got the impression they know where she is and were planning to get her off the island. They were discussing how to avoid the checkpoints.”

  Barrera stared at him. For a moment he wanted to choke the life out of the man, but he managed to control himself.

  “And you didn’t think that was important enough to bring to me?”

  The man turned pale. “I wanted to make sure. I took a picture of their car and intended to look for it, to get more proof before bringing this to you.”

  So much time lost, wasted because this little turd was afraid to bring him false information. Better to prove it wrong than not to have something to act on at all.

  “Show me the picture.”

  Ruben pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, scrolled through to the picture and handed it to Ruben. He in turn passed it to Barrera.

  The general studied the shot. It was a beat-up SUV, a few years old. Barrera vaguely remembered seeing it as he was driven around Santa Marita but he’d paid no attention to it, dismissing it as just another junker clunker. He looked at his lieutenant.

  “Have this checked at once. There is someone on duty, yes?”

  “There is. The electronics room is on duty at all times. But you’d better hear the rest of this first. Go on, Bruno.”

  “As I was finishing a coffee run, I spotted the same vehicle zigzagging through the streets, away from the center of town. I managed to follow without being seen. I—”

  “How do you know that?” Barrera demanded.

  “Because they didn’t stop or turn back, just kept heading in a certain direction.”

  “So where did they end up? Ruben, we needed to get people there this moment.”

  If these men knew where the Kane woman was, he’d torture them until they told him.

  “They are in La Jungla.” The man shifted nervously. “I could not follow them in there.”

  Barrera stared at both men. “The jungle? They went into the jungle? What the hell? That place is a death trap.”

  A tiny smile tipped up one corner of Ruben’s mouth.

  “But what better place to hide someone from us?”

  Barrera was trying to contain his excitement. Even if the Kane woman were being hidden in that dangerous place, he still had to put a big search party together of men who could be coerced into going into that overgrown death trap.

  “Agreed,” he said at last. Then he turned to the man standing in front of him. “Bruno, you will be generously rewarded for this. Ruben, be sure this is taken care of. Find out what this ma
n wants and see if we can give it to him.”

  “If I may, Presidente.”

  “Yes? Go ahead.”

  The least he could do, even though he was impatient to begin, was see what the man wanted.

  “I would like to be assigned to your personal detail.”

  Barrera looked at Ruben who nodded.

  “I think we can accommodate that. Ruben, make a note and see that it happens.”

  He waited impatiently while Ruben escorted the man out of the office and turned him over to one of the guards.

  “I will get the search process started,” Ruben told him when he returned. “They have no place to go if that’s where they are. There are no landing spots for a boat to pick them up and it’s a very steep drop from the cliff at the edge of La Jungla. We can locate them and surround them.”

  “Who are these men who have hidden her?”

  Ruben shrugged. “I have no idea, but I promise you, we’ll find out.”

  Barrera pushed himself away from the desk and stood. “Good. Let’s get moving. I can’t just sit here and wait.”

  “Si, mi president. I am driving you myself.”

  Barrera sometimes wondered what, if anything, it took to shake Ruben Vidal’s ever-present calm. He actually hoped he’d never find out, because from what he knew about the man, it would take something pretty drastic.

  He rode down in the elevator with Ruben and the other two guards who had been waiting outside his office. His car, as usual, was waiting in its special parking space outside the side entrance. It was a specially constructed SUV with three rows of seats and every type of armoring protection that could be purchased. It would take mortar rounds to do it any damage.

  Barrera climbed into the middle row of seats, while Ruben sat behind the wheel, a guard riding shotgun beside him and two more in the rear seats, facing through the back window to watch for any kind of approaching trouble. They headed down the side driveway and entered the stream of traffic in the street. Even at this late hour, there was still a significant number of vehicles filling the roads.