by Nico Rosso
The car drove and skidded to the bottom of the hill, where he pulled the emergency brake and got out. The rain had stopped, but the cold wind picked up the pooled water and sprayed it against the exposed skin of his hands and face. His thighs chilled as his jeans soaked through.
The longest stick he could find at the side of the wash was only two feet long. He ventured forward in the mud, poking ahead with the soggy wood to test the depth. There wasn’t a tree or shrub in sight, he had no idea where the branch came from. The storm had been strong enough to alter the landscape.
He proceeded across the thirty-foot-wide wash, marking his path by dragging the stick in a jagged line. His boots sank into the muck. It splashed up to coat his knee. The rain had soaked into the dirt but there was firm ground beneath the layer of sludge.
At the far side he turned and retraced his steps. April waited and watched in the car, anticipation leaning her body forward. When he was closer, she asked, “It’ll hold?”
He tossed the stick aside and tracked mud into the car. “Think buoyant thoughts.”
The tires ground forward, spun, then caught and pulled them forward. Wet dirt sprayed up the sides of the car and streaked the windows. He battled toward the far edge of the wash in low gear. A wheel slipped and his gut sank, thinking they were stuck.
“Oh, fuck.” April shared his concern.
The wheel dug deeper, found traction and kept the car moving. If his jaw wasn’t clenched, he’d have sighed relief. April laughed nervously. Halfway. Two thirds. The desert brightened as the clouds cleared. Pooled water gleamed like diamonds.
The car reached the far bank. James accelerated toward the climb. Soil splashed like an explosion in front of them. Pebbles clattered against the windshield wipers. The engine strained, but the car held strong enough to get up the muddy bank. From there the dirt road was packed firm and lead them easily back to the highway.
Then James breathed. The sky was black in the rearview mirror, blue ahead of them. The wet asphalt glowed. Dirt striped backward on the side windows as the car picked up speed.
“Nicely done.” April held out a fist and he bumped it.
They both settled in for the long drive. But he really wanted to be out of that car. Running back up the path toward where they’d sheltered. Crawling through the mud. Anything to burn off the tension that wound through him. Anything to keep him from thinking about what April would look like standing in the glittering desert after the storm.
Chapter Ten
The relief that had loosened her shoulders as soon as they’d hit the highway was lost in new dread. A black State Police SUV sped up behind them. She and James had both spotted it in the mirrors and cursed under their breaths. He eased off the gas, but if the police really wanted to stop them, they could find a reason.
She didn’t know if there were registration papers for the car. “Do you even have a license?”
“Of course I do.” He split his attention between the road ahead and the cop behind. “But not for my sidearm.”
Her mouth dried. Her legs jumped nervously. The car was caked in mud and shed pebbles onto the road. She tried to come up with some kind of explanation, but they all sounded like desperate lies. “I take it he won’t know who Automatik is.” The windows of the police SUV were black, hiding the driver.
“We’ve got contacts with some agencies, but mostly on the upper levels.” He drove sensibly, with both hands on the steering wheel. “I won’t have any pull with this bloke.”
The police car hovered behind them for a long mile. He could be running the plates. She forced herself to stare forward and not glance suspiciously over her shoulder every two seconds. Any moment the blue and red lights could flash.
“Here he comes.” James somehow managed to look calm. He shot her a look. “Give us your public face, luv.”
She tried to match his casual attitude and faked a smile that felt way too gigantic and forced. “Now we look suspicious.”
He surveyed her and laughed honestly. The pressure release was infectious and she chuckled with him. By the time the cop drove parallel to them, their grins were real. She peered over and saw a stern man with a shaved head. His sunglasses blocked his eyes, but she knew he stared hard at her and James.
“Mark had a couple of friends on the El Paso P.D.” When those men hung out, it was usually on their own. “Intense guys.”
James gave this officer a little nod. It could either set the cop off or put him at ease. The man’s expression didn’t change. He accelerated past her and James. Water sprayed up behind his SUV, like he was disappearing in a cloud.
“Should I race him?” James raised his eyebrows and grinned wildly.
“Do it,” she encouraged with an equally reckless smile.
He maintained a sensible speed, and the trooper’s SUV gained more ground ahead of them. They were safe for now. But they’d been seen. They weren’t invisible. She could see herself. Guilt gnawed through the back of her head and down to her chest. Remembering Mark a moment ago, saying his name, had rattled her privacy with James. It was as if everyone could see them now. Mark’s parents and hers, her friends, the people in town. Everyone knew about the kiss and how much she wanted to take it further.
She told James, “Next stop for gas, I need to get some sunglasses.”
He squinted into the day. It was bright now that they’d passed the storm. “Me, too.”
After a few miles, they passed the state trooper. He was parked on the median, facing the other direction, waiting. James had kept their pace reasonable, and they cruised by without worrying about being stopped. Other concerns weighed heavy. They knew they wouldn’t make it to Phoenix before the school closed for the day. Each second lost was more time for the hackers to break through her encoding. She hadn’t responded to their email, and there was no follow-up from them.
The hackers knew about Albuquerque, so the hired killers had to be somewhere within two hundred miles of her and James. He explained that they might be trying to track her credit card usage, or the GPS on her phone, anything to get an indication of their position. She turned off the location services on her phone but kept the data alive for research.
“Phoenix looks like a big city, but they’ll probably have lookouts at the major hotels.” It was clear James knew the process. “We’ll want to weather the night somewhere they’re not looking. A small town outside the borders, maybe.”
“I know someone in Phoenix.” She had at least one email from Silvia she hadn’t responded to. The woman would be worrying by now. “She might be able to put us up.”
“A good friend?” James remained guarded. “You trust her?”
“Yeah. She and I went through the same thing. We met on the forum and talk privately, too.” Silvia’s energy and enthusiasm for experiences always revived April. “We visit each other when we can.”
“Can you call her? No email.”
“She’s probably still at work, but might answer.”
He took his phone from his coat, punched in the security code and handed it to her. “Use mine. Won’t leave a trace.”
She looked up Silvia’s number on her phone and dialed it on James’s. Before it rang she told him, “At the gas station—sunglasses and a burner phone.”
“Good idea.” He smiled at her, impressed.
Silvia picked up with a cautious, “Hello?”
Of course there’d be no caller I.D. on James’s phone, and Silvia didn’t know him anyway. “Silvia, it’s April.”
“Hey, you okay?” She kept her voice down, so she was still at her desk at the law firm. “Haven’t heard from you. You on a new phone?”
“I’m okay, but things are a bit...hectic.” How could she explain everything without sounding like a paranoid insane person? “I’m coming in to Phoenix today. Any possibility yo
u could put me up?”
Silvia didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely. What time you getting in?”
April asked James, “What time?”
“Three, maybe four hours.” He glanced at his watch.
Silvia spoke lower. “You have someone with you?”
“Yes.” Again, she had no idea of how to illuminate the situation.
“Do you need help?” Silvia switched into battle mode. “If you need me to call the police, just say, ‘Give or take a half hour.’”
April reassured her friend, “I’m not in danger.” But that wasn’t true. “I mean, not with James. He’s...” She looked at him and caught him sneaking his attention back at her. “He’s one of the good guys.”
“Okay, babe. I trust you to know.” Silvia dialed her intensity down, but not much. “I’ll be home by the time you get there. I’ll have food. What else?”
“That’s plenty. Thank you.” But what was April bringing into Silvia’s life? “If we’re imposing, if you don’t want the drama, let me know and we’ll find another way.”
“There’s no other way.” Silvia held firm. “You’re coming here.”
“Thanks.” This kind of ferocious protectiveness was common on her website. James had it, too. A bubble of sadness wrapped around the warm appreciation he inspired in her. “I’ll call if anything changes.”
“Be safe. See you soon.” Silvia hung up. April knew the danger that had shaken her world now extended to her friend. She hated involving her, but they were always there for each other and it was a place that no one would be looking.
April handed the phone back to James. “I can give you directions to her place once we get closer.”
He stowed the phone. “Sounds good. Thanks for securing us a roof.”
“Sure.” They’d been seen by the police officer and in a few hours they’d be seen by her friend. How much would Silvia know? April felt like she still wore all the need she’d found for James like a red blush across her face.
They exited the highway at the next opportunity and pulled into a gas station. While James filled up, she took a few bills of his cash toward the store. He leaned against the car, casual, though she knew he tracked every vehicle and person who came and went. With his arms crossed over his chest, he was an imposing figure. The caked mud on his boots and the bottoms of his jeans revealed he was up to no good. She walked on glass shoes, thinking that everyone was watching her, aware of the danger, crime and desire that surrounded her.
In the store, she picked out sunglasses for her and him. She was tempted to wear hers while buying the prepaid phone and extra calling cards. The clerk rang her up, business as usual. April hid her secrets well.
Back outside, she masked her eyes with the sunglasses. James still leaned against the car and worked on his phone, presumably updating Automatik with their status. She handed James his sunglasses.
“Cheers.” He covered his eyes with them, looking extra mysterious.
“The aviators suit you.” They were both very clandestine now and could scan the area freely without anyone knowing.
His angular face remained dead serious. “James motherfucking Bond.” A private smile crossed his lips for her. Warmth spread down the center of her chest. She tried to keep it from reaching between her legs, but remembering just what those lips had done to hers was too much. A needy ache carved through her. She swallowed hard and couldn’t be fulfilled. He topped the car off and got in.
She closed herself in next to him. He took them back onto the highway. The need continued to pulse through her. She tried to bury it in rational thoughts, all the reasons she couldn’t act on the yearning. She hadn’t even known James for three days. The memory of her husband loomed. There was too much peril, too close to her. But the desire persisted. If it wasn’t satisfied, it would wreck her.
* * *
James drove the highways he’d memorized as April set up her burner phone. With each stage of the mission, she became more of an operator. A partner. Not that he wanted to clear a room of hostiles with her, but the two of them were a good balance. She handled the tech expertly and explained what she needed to in terms he could understand. He was content being the muscle.
They turned south to Phoenix. The low sun glowed around April’s silhouette. Her large sunglasses gave her a dangerous sophistication. She navigated them through the gigantic city toward her friend’s house.
“Silvia?” he asked to remind himself.
“Silvia,” she confirmed. “Husband was a marine. IED, just like Mark.”
Many men and women he’d known had lost their lives and limbs to those bastardized explosives. He’d always held the sappers who dismantled them in high respect. “Terrible business. I’m sorry.”
She was quiet for a few blocks. “Right turn at the light.” The sun was down, the sky deep blue. She took off her sunglasses. “She’s a paralegal. Switched careers like I did.”
“Is there a man in the house?” He needed to know how secure the location was. “Anyone else?”
“She dates. No one serious right now.”
“Kids?”
She grew somber. “They never found the right time.”
He realized this information wasn’t covered in April’s file. There was no tactical use to the knowledge. That wasn’t why he asked, “And you?”
“We didn’t want.” She looked at him, honest and open, then returned her gaze to the streets. A small, sardonic laugh cut through her. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Not ever.” He laughed back. “I don’t even have a jar of mustard in the refrigerator.” He didn’t let the thought of her in his house linger. She deserved something fully furnished and comfortable.
“Automatik keeps you busy.” She directed them through another two intersections.
“There are married people in Automatik.” The former recon marine, Art, had found someone special in the chef he’d hijacked into his Mexican desert mission. And James had seen plenty of sparks between Ben Jackson and “Bolt Action” Mary on the helicopter ride out of Morris Flats. “Even a couple of operators hooked up with each other.”
“Sounds...dangerous.”
“They are.” He’d be more relaxed traveling these unknown avenues if the rest of the strike team was close. “Mary can pick a lock with a bullet from a mile away.”
April turned to scan out the windows. “Is she out here?”
“I wish. The storms restricted travel.” He brought the car to a stop outside the modest two-story house she indicated. “We’re on our own in Phoenix.”
“We have Silvia.” April smiled as she looked at the open front door. A Latina woman with a long ponytail, wearing jeans and a sweater, stood there. She pointed at herself, then at April, as if to ask if she could come out to them. April nodded, and the woman who appeared around April’s age approached.
James got out of the car and hauled the carry-on from the backseat. April skipped across the narrow lawn and embraced Silvia. The two women parted but held each other’s arms and spoke quietly between them. April nodded emphatically and gave her friend a gentle, reassuring shake.
He advanced toward them, and Silvia tipped her head toward the house. “Come in.” She maintained her hold on April as the two women led the way. He turned a quick circle and assessed the street. Medium-sized houses. Working class. Some chimneys smoked; other houses were completely dark. A car drove down the street and parked in a driveway. Business as usual. But he didn’t trust the area completely, because a skilled operator could conceal himself or herself behind the squat palm trees, or in the shady hedges between houses half a block away. It was what he’d do.
Silvia closed the door behind him, sealing the cold out, and extended her hand. “Silvia.”
“James.” He shook hers and noted her extra pressure. “I’m do
ing everything to protect her.”
“Good.” Silvia still eyed him with wariness.
“He is.” April stroked down her friend’s arm.
Silvia punched a code into a home alarm control box by the door, setting it, before turning to April. “So what the hell is going on?”
April took a long breath and ran her hands through her hair. “It’s the hack.”
Silvia held up a hand to stop her. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes.” April sighed in relief and followed Silvia into the kitchen. James left the luggage in the front entry and joined them. The place was clean and orderly. A well-stocked bar on one counter and a pass-through to a comfortable-looking dining area. The art on the walls was a mix of black-and-white photography and abstract swaths of glossy color.
Silvia unfurled the lids off foil containers on the kitchen island, releasing steam and the spiced aromas of Mexican food. “I got takeout on the way home. Grab a plate.”
April took one from a stack next to the food and piled beans and chicken and rice on it. James hadn’t realized he was starving until he saw the crackling, darkened skin of the chicken. April pulled warm tortillas from a plastic bag and gave herself two and James two.
She instructed slowly, “Now, this is a tortilla. You eat it with the other food.”
He played along. “Like naan, but flatter.”
Silvia looked at them, dumbfounded. “Are you serious?” She pointed at his plate. “This is Mexican. Do you have that in England?”
He took a long smell of the food. “Not as good as this.”
Her eyes narrowed when she realized the joke was on her. “Enjoy. Both of you.” She followed behind them, filling her plate then herding them into the dining room. Silvia poured lemonade from a pitcher, and they all set into the food. The taste lived up to the look and aroma. One plate wasn’t going to be enough.
After a few bites, April gave Silvia an account of what was happening. James worried she’d reveal too much about Automatik, but April stayed nimble and manufactured a story that James worked for a security firm that was hired by another victim of the hackers. They were going to interview her when the attack happened. From there, they were on the road, tracking the hackers. She touched on the storm but didn’t mention anything that had happened between them. He couldn’t look at her when she recounted weathering the worst of it, lest he entertain the more carnal thoughts, and the rush of heat to his crotch, that rose each time he thought of the kiss.