The Mexico Run

by Lionel White

  When we reached the turnoff which I had taken the previous week to find our isolated cove, I dimmed my lights going through the small village. A few minutes later I pulled up in the abandoned courtyard of the old adobe ranchhouse.

  I took off my money-belt and carefully placed it under the floor mat, next to the driver’s seat. I took the.45 calibre automatic from the shoulder holster and checked it to see that it was fully loaded.

  Sharon had already stepped to the ground and she half whimpered as I stood beside her.

  “I’m frightened,” she said. “Can’t I come with you?”

  “There’s nothing to be frightened of,” I said. “No one is here, no one knows you are here, no one will find you here, no one will hurt you. I will be back within an hour. Now you must promise me, don’t move, don’t go anywhere, make no noise at all.”

  She nodded, but didn’t speak. I kissed her then and held her arm as I walked her over to the side of the wall.

  “Just sit here and wait,” I said. “I will be no longer than I can help. There is nothing to be afraid of. I will be back.”

  She squeezed my hand, and I thought for a moment she was going to cry. But then she let me go, and I returned to the jeep and started back toward the highway.

  At exactly three minutes to eleven by the luminous dial of my wristwatch I pulled into the narrow place off the road where Juan and I had agreed to make our meet.

  I had passed no other car on either the road south or on the turnoff road. There was no car waiting for me when I got there.

  I cut my light and took a cigarette from a crumpled pack in my breast pocket, but I didn’t light it. I took the gun out of the shoulder holster and shoved it in my belt and buttoned my jacket over it. I really wasn’t too worried.

  This was not a one-shot operation. The type of men with whom I was dealing would be more anxious for a continuing operation which would show future profits, rather than a quick highjack of a few thousand dollars. My big concern was whether they would show up on schedule.

  I was sure that Angel was already safely anchored in the cove not far from where I had left Sharon, and I didn’t want to keep him waiting too long. I knew that he had come in just before the peak of the tide, and he had told me that he thought it was quite possible that he could get out again safely if he could leave no later than one-thirty in the morning.

  He was not anxious to lay over for a second high tide.

  My eye again went to my watch, and ten minutes had passed. I was beginning to get slightly nervous. I started the engine of the jeep and carefully backed the car around until I was again facing the. direction from which I’d arrived. I cut the engine and turned off the lights.

  Moments later, I heard the sound of a car engine off in the distance. It was coming from the direction of the mission.

  I started the engine again, but I didn’t turn on the lights. I wanted to be very sure that it was a truck that was arriving and not a sedan or some other type of vehicle. If it wasn’t a truck, and it began to slow down and stop, I wanted to be prepared to make as quick a getaway as possible.

  The sound of the engine grew louder, and a moment later I saw the reflection of a pair of headlights in the distance. I waited tensely.

  Two minutes later a recent-model Chevrolet pickup pulled off the road and parked beside me. There were two men in the cab. The driver cut his headlights, and as he did I picked up the flashlight from the seat beside me and flicked it on. I called out as I lifted the light.

  “Juan?”

  “Turn off the light, senor.”

  I cut the light, but I had had time to spot Juan behind the wheel of the pickup truck. I’d been unable to distinguish the face of the man next to him.

  Juan opened the door and stepped to the ground. He was joined by the second man.

  It took me less than fifteen minutes to make my examination and determine that everything was kosher. I then reached into the jeep and retrieved the money-belt from under the floor mat. I held the flashlight steady as they counted out the bills. No words were spoken at any time.

  The man beside Juan did the counting, and when he was through he grunted.

  “All in order,” he said. “We will transfer the cargo and you can leave first. We will follow after a while.”

  I nodded and ten minutes later climbed back into the jeep and started the engine. It had gone almost too smoothly.

  I was pretty keyed up, so I drove very carefully coming down the mountains until I hit the main highway. I just hoped that my luck would hold out and that I would pass no other cars.

  Heading north, I again came to the turnoff toward the cove and I began to breath more easily.

  My luck was still with me as I drove past the scattered shacks of the small town. A couple of windows showed dim lights, but the place was quiet and, apparently pretty much asleep.

  I continued on, and a few minutes later my headlights picked up the deserted adobe ranchhouse. I pulled into the yard and climbed to the ground.

  I started walking toward the spot where I’d left Sharon, when the headlights of the car which had pulled up to the far side of the yard were suddenly switched on, holding me frozen as I was silhouetted in their glare.

  My hand was reaching for the gun on my shoulder, when the voice suddenly arrested my movement.

  “Hold it just as you are, Senor Johns. Don’t make a move. You have a machine-gun trained on you.”

  As he stopped speaking, Captain Hernando Morales stepped into the glare of the headlights, approaching me. He was smiling. His hands were empty.

  “Do not be alarmed, Senor Johns,” he said. “This is not what you may think it is. I am not here to cause you any trouble. I just wanted to be very sure that you arrived safely with your cargo. After all, I have a stake in your welfare.”

  I stared at him, saying nothing.

  “Yes, I just wanted to insure your safety, senor,” he said. “And now that I know you are all right and prepared to get rid of your cargo on the beach, I will be leaving, and I am sure you will be happy to know that I am escorting the young senorita back to La Casa Pacifica so that you will not have to worry about her. You will have your hands full, I am sure, without bothering your head about anything else this evening.”

  “And just where is the senorita now?” I asked, my voice frozen.

  “She is in my car with my chauffeur. She is in good hands. If you wish to say goodbye to her, please do so, as I must leave quickly.”

  I walked over toward the headlights. Sharon was sitting next to the driver and she looked at me as I approached and half shrugged, half smiled. She apparently was not worried.

  I didn’t have to think what to do. There was only one thing I could do. Get on about my night’s work.

  Captain Morales had followed me to the police car.

  “The sea air is really not good for young ladies, senor,” he said. “Anyway, we wanted to be sure that you would return. After all we are, in a way, business partners and I have to protect both of our interests. Please rest assured, however, no harm will come to the senorita while you are gone. If you are returning to La Casa Pacifica later this evening, which I gather you will be doing, then you may rest assured you will find her safe there.”

  I looked at him then and returned his smile. “I will be returning, captain,” I said. “And I am sure I will find her there safe. I appreciate your courtesy in escorting her back. Thank you. And now I had best be about my business.”

  A moment later, the police car pulled out of the compound, and I headed back to the jeep. Captain Morales was smarter than I had given him credit for being. He had had no trouble at all in figuring out my every move. I wasn’t as much worried as I was furious with myself for having played so beautifully into his hands.

  I jammed on the starter of the jeep and headed for the beach.

  An hour later I stood waist-deep in the water, pushing off the dinghy for the last time as Angel Cortillo prepared to row back to the anchored Rosita Maria
with his final load. I waved goodbye to him in the moonlight as he started the outboard engine and ploughed through the heavy surf.

  Driving north a few minutes later on Route 2, I was tempted to stop off at the Casa Pacifica and check up on Sharon before going on into Ensenada, but then I changed my mind and went directly to the dock where I had left the XKE.

  Either the captain had kept his word and taken her safely back or he hadn’t. There was little I could do about it in any case.

  My plans originally had called for getting rid of the jeep, climbing into the XKE and driving directly to San Diego. I had planned to pick up the charter boat on the following Monday morning. I had plenty of time on my hands, however, and so I did return to the Casa Pacifica.

  I think I was surprised, and perhaps a little relieved when I found Sharon sitting alone at the bar. She had a drink in front of her and she smiled when I entered the room. She reached into her purse and she took out an envelope and handed it to me.

  “The captain said to give you this.”

  The note inside was brief and to the point. It read, “I strongly advise you to make no effort to take the senorita back to the States at this time. You may leave her here safely, and I assure you she will not be molested. Best wishes for your safe journey, and I shall look forward to hearing from you when you return to Ensenada.” There was no signature.

  Wordlessly I handed her the note, and she read it. When she had finished she looked up at me, a baffled expression on her face. For the first time, she was no longer smiling that cute, knowing smile, and I believe she sensed as well as I did myself the subtle threat.

  “He told me he’d see me by the end of next week,” she said.

  Her voice had a worried note in it. I took her by the hand, and we headed back to the yellow suite. I sat her down on the bed, after locking the door, and lighted a cigarette and handed it to her.

  “I want you to listen to me,” I said. “I tried to get you out of here tonight, but our policeman friend outsmarted me. For some reason, for some reason that I fail to understand at this time, he wants to keep you here. And I simply can’t believe it’s for the very simple and obvious reason that he wants to bed you again. He has something in the back of his mind, and at the moment I can’t figure out exactly what it is. But I do have the feeling that you may be in danger. I don’t want you to panic, but I do want you to listen to me and listen carefully.

  “I’m going to be leaving tonight, and I’ll be gone for somewhere between a week and ten days. I’d take you with me now, but I don’t think there’d be a hope of getting you across the border and I don’t think there’s a chance that you could make it on your own. You say he told you he would be back to see you some time toward the end of next week? Is that right?”

  She looked at me, nodding dumbly. I think she was beginning to get the idea that Captain Hernando Morales was not exactly a simple little playmate with slightly bizarre sexual habits.

  “This is Saturday night,” I said. “As I figure it, our captain will be around to pay you a visit probably by next Friday or Saturday. This time you might not get off with just some Mercurochrome and a couple of Bandaids.”

  I didn’t like to frighten her, but I had to impress her enough to make her follow my instructions.

  “Now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to stay close by the hotel here for the next few days. On Thursday afternoon around four o’clock I want you to make a point of telling Billings, who owns this place, that you are bored and are going out for a walk. I am sure he has been instructed to keep an eye on you, so you will have to be careful not to arouse his suspicions. He must have no idea you do not intend to return. You understand so far?”

  “I guess so. But where am I going?” She seemed baffled, but I hurried on.

  “You will start for the main highway. Route 2 leading into Ensenada.”

  “But that’s miles,” she protested.

  “Just listen,” I said. “You will start for the main road, but you will just stroll along as though you had no particular destination. Once you are well out of sight, say some half mile away, you will come to a car parked beside the dirt road. There will be a man in it. The man I told you about. Angel Cortillo. He’s going to take you somewhere where you will be safe, and he will hide you out until I return to Ensenada.

  “Our captain is going to arrive here at the hotel to find that you have disappeared. He’s going to assume that you have run away and probably made your way back to the States.”

  “But why would he���”

  “Don’t ask questions, just listen. Do as I have told you. When Angel picks you up, go with him. You will be safe with him until I return. Then once I am back we will see to getting you safely out of Mexico. Now will you do exactly as I have said?”

  She still had that baffled, frightened expression on her face, but she was beginning to look a little more intelligent.

  “You must be very careful to arouse no suspicion.. When you leave here on Thursday to go into town, take nothing with you but what you can carry in your handbag. I don’t want Billings getting any ideas in his head that you don’t intend to return. Now do you think you can follow those directions?”

  “You think Captain Morales wants to hurt me?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I simply have a hunch that there is more to this man than I can understand at the moment. It doesn’t make sense, and that’s what worries me. A young blond girl down here has a certain cash value. Perhaps he merely wants to toss you into a brothel for what you’re worth. Whatever he is up to, I can assure you it isn’t good. Now do you think you can remember everything I’ve told you and follow my directions to the letter?”

  She asked a number of questions, most of which I couldn’t answer, and we talked for a while, and I could see that she was becoming increasingly frightened. I didn’t want her to panic, and so I tried to reassure her, but I also impressed upon her the importance of following my instructions. I particularly impressed upon her the.necessity of not arousing any suspicion.

  We had a drink then, and made love, and daylight was just beginning to creep over the eastern horizon as once again I climbed behind the wheel of the Jaguar and headed for Tijuana and the border.

  Driving north, I began to wonder if after all I hadn’t acted a little foolishly. On the surface it seemed quite obvious what Captain Morales wanted, but a nagging suspicion lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn’t help but believe that somehow or another it went beyond a simple desire for the girl. His unreasonable insistence that she stay with me struck a sour note. I had the feeling that I was involved in whatever plans he had for Sharon.

  It occurred to me that it may be that he wanted some sort of hold over me, and there was always the possibility that if she remained with me he could trump up some sort of morals charge: bringing an adolescent into the country for immoral purposes or something of the sort.

  If it were simply a matter of wanting the girl, he had already had her, and it must have been quite obvious to him by now that I would have raised no particular objections had she gone off with him. His insistence on her staying in Mexico and staying with me must have some logical explanation. Whatever it was, I knew that it could be of no benefit to Sharon and very likely of no benefit to me either.

  The safest thing was to see that she disappeared.

  Angel wasn’t going to like it when I told him about it, when we met out in the open seas not too many hours from now, but he was a friend, and I knew I could count on him. I could also count on him to play it careful and to play it safe. He would probably hide her out with one of those numerous relatives of his until I would have a chance to have her smuggled back across the border. Not, however, at Tijuana.

  ***

  Saturday night I slept aboard the South Wind. I hit the bunk before eight o’clock, and I slept for a solid nine hours. I had had a busy day and I needed that sleep.

  I set the alarm clock for four thirty because I wanted to be well o
n my way by dawn.

  I had called Monahan when I arrived in San Diego and told him I was planning on taking off the following morning for a few days. I told him I planned to go up to San Pedro the first day and then over to Catalina Island where I’d spend the next two days. I planned to be back in San Diego no later than Friday, and I would give him a call when I returned.

  He kept me on the phone for a good half hour, giving me all sorts of advice before I finally got rid of him. It took me a couple more hours to gas up and check over the boat and get several day’s provisions aboard. I had already purchased the charts that I would be needing. Among other supplies I put on board were a half-a-dozen heavy-canvas dufflebags.

  I put in a telephone call to the dockmaster at the public yacht-basin in Santa Barbara. I made a reservation for a slip for the next few days. The dockmaster was obliging, and looked in the Yellow Pages for the number of a truck rental company.

  I put a second call in and reserved a pickup truck. Around dusk I cast off the mooring lines and made a brief trip out past the channel. I wanted to familiarize myself with the buoys while it was still daylight.

  By the time I had returned and tied up again, I was dead on my feet. I cooked a light supper aboard the boat and then hit the deck. I had no trouble falling asleep.

  There was little traffic in the channel when I headed toward the open sea on Monday morning. A light six-or seven-knot breeze was blowing in from the north, and I cruised out some twenty miles due west before turning the bow of the vessel south and opening up both engines to twenty-two hundred rpm. There was a light sea as I started down the coastline out of sight of land.

  The sky was hazy, and I made excellent time. I wanted to reach the area of our rendezvous as soon as possible. I knew that the Rosita Maria would not be showing up until just before dark, but I wanted to be there several hours early.

  Some three-quarters of an hour after I had headed south by southwest a small twin-engined seaplane came out of the east and dropped down to circle overhead. I picked it up with the binoculars and saw that it was a coastguard plane, probably on border patrol.