by D. V. Berkom
No other houses on the block had been firebombed. What happened to the other safe house, the one Chance said he’d set up as a decoy? Confused, I looked at Luis. His jaw set, he grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet.
“Come with me.”
We cut across the arroyo and up the bank, keeping to the shadows. Thankful that he apparently had a plan, I followed him past the hulking, dark shapes of trees and bushes, jumping at every little sound. My rapid breathing and galloping heart were by-products of the adrenalin shooting through me. I wondered briefly if a stroke was in my future.
“They knew which house to target.”
Luis grunted. “Yes.”
“This means that Salazar has someone high up in either your agency or Chance’s.”
“Yes.”
“Could you please answer me in complete fucking sentences? Because I’m a little freaked out right now and really need you to talk me down here.”
Luis stopped and wiped his hand across his face. “Or it was someone at the safe house.”
I hadn’t thought of that. Had anyone survived the blast? Luis was in the clear, since he’d been with the target. I ran through the different guards in my head, and couldn’t recall any of them acting out of the ordinary. My gut told me it was somebody within one of the agencies.
That was a problem.
Hyperventilation seemed much more imminent than a stroke, and just my luck, no paper bag to breathe in. I bent over, hands on my knees, and sucked in air, trying to control the anxiety that threatened to take over.
Luis rested his hand on my back. The small gesture helped to calm me enough that my thoughts became semi-coherent. I straightened and inhaled deeply into my lungs.
“All right?”
I nodded. I wasn’t, but that couldn’t matter. The distant glow of the burning house lit up the early morning sky. I turned to Luis.
“I want to see Chance. Now.”
***
Luis called Chance and told him what happened. He sent a car and driver to pick us up near a vacant lot several streets away from the safe house. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up next to a dark sedan with blacked out windows idling behind an abandoned building outside of town. The passenger side window slid down and Chance’s face appeared. Luis and I transferred to the back seat of the sedan.
Chance twisted around in the front seat and focused on Luis.
“From the reports, the house is toast. No one survived the explosion.”
“Diego and Raphael were inside-" Luis cleared his throat. Once he'd composed himself, he said, "Raphael's wife just had their second child. A boy." He stared out the car window.
Chance shook his head. "My guys have been with me for four years. They were the best team I've ever worked with. Survived Afghanistan." He shook a cigarette from a pack on the dash and lit it, inhaling deeply. "Who would have thought an IED in Sonora would get them?"
My eyes started to water from the smoke. Chance hit the button on the door and the window slid down.
"Where were you two?" he asked.
Luis looked at me and then turned to Chance. "We- ah, well, we were outside.”
“Outside? You mean the backyard, right?”
Luis shook his head. “No sir, we-“ He shifted in his seat. “I accompanied her off the premises.”
Chance glanced at me and frowned. “So you broke protocol.” The statement landed flat between them.
“Sir, I--“
“She survived. If you hadn’t done what you did, she’d be dead.” He narrowed his eyes and looked directly at Luis. "Do it again and you're off the assignment." Chance leaned back with a disgusted sigh. “How did he get the info? If anything, the decoy should’ve been blown.”
“Simple. He’s got someone in one of your organizations.” I’d been living with Salazar’s reach for the past three years. It didn’t surprise me. “And, unless you have a better idea, I think I’ll take my chances on my own.” I made to open the door, but Chance put a hand on my arm.
“You can’t walk away from this. Our case against Salazar can’t go forward without you.”
“What about Eduardo? He’s got more than enough information to put him away for years.”
Chance bowed his head, then looked at me, weariness evident in his eyes.
“Eduardo’s dead.”
I sank back against the seat, too stunned to speak. My stomach twisted into knots as fear’s icy fingers wound their way up my spine.
“How?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.
“They found his head in a plastic garbage bag at the border. We haven’t recovered his body.”
Anger boiled deep in my chest, and it was hard to breathe. “He trusted you. You were going to get him into the program.” My hands clenched so hard the fingernails cut into my skin.
Chance sighed. He looked twenty years older.
“That’s just it. The Marshals had him in protective custody, on his way to the states. They were ambushed just before they got to the border. We have no idea how they found him so fast.”
“Then Salazar’s got someone there, too.” My calm, steady voice belied the fact that I wanted to reach over the seat back and strangle the man sitting in front of me.“Remember the question I asked you that day in the back yard? About the ones that didn’t make it?” Chance nodded. “How many were involved with Salazar in some way?”
“None.”
“How many?” I leaned forward, inches from his face. He looked past me at Luis, then back at me.
“Three.”
I recoiled as if he'd hit me. “Three? You put Eduardo in knowing that three of Salazar’s people died? And you think I’m going to cooperate? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
Chance leaned forward, his face deadly serious.
“It won’t happen again. Yes, there's a leak, but nothing is one hundred percent secure. Travel with armed agents is a hell of a lot safer than going solo. I put in the request to move you to the states. Once there, we’ll record your statement. After that, you choose what you want to do.”
I opened the door and got out before either of them could stop me. I turned and looked at Chance through the open window.
“You got it all wrong, Chance. I’m choosing what to do right now.”
Bad Choices (Chapter 5)
"Kate-" Luis called as I walked away from the car. I turned and watched him make his way across the weed covered lot.
"Here." He handed me a wad of bills. "It should be enough to get to wherever you're going."
I gave him a half smile and tucked the money in my pocket.
"Thanks. Luis, I'm sorry I-"
He shrugged. "Don't be." He nodded his head at Chance waiting in the idling sedan. "I think even he understands." He pulled out a pen and a scrap of paper, wrote on it and handed it to me. "My cell. In case you change your mind."
I folded it and put it in my pocket. "Goodbye, Luis. Take care of yourself and your family."
I started to walk away when the car rolled up next to me. Chance leaned his head out the window.
"At least let me get you to a bus stop, for Christ's sake."
***
Luis handed me a canteen of water and they watched me board the bus to Mazatlán before speeding off into the early morning. Chance had continued to try to persuade me to stay, to trust him to keep me safe, but my mind was made up. Eventually, he conceded defeat and promised he would keep my surviving the explosion quiet for at least the next few hours. Grateful for that small window of time, I made it look as though I was heading to the large seaside city, knowing I'd have to delay the actual trip until I made a phone call.
As the desert scenery raced by, I felt a pang of guilt for not sticking around to testify. But then I remembered Eduardo and the thought of his execution hardened my resolve. I needed to take things into my own hands, stop trusting strangers. My life tended to work out better when I relied on myself. The times that I got into trouble directly corresponded to my bad choices in men
.
All I had to do was avoid falling for anyone.
Simple.
I got off at the next stop- a small, dusty town several miles from the safe house- and found a phone. I dialed the familiar number and had to stifle a sob when my sister Lisa's voice came on the line and accepted the charges.
"Lisa-"
"Kate? Is that you? Where are you?"
"I-I'm still in Mexico. Did you get the money I wired?"
There was a pause. I thought the connection cut out. Then I heard a sigh.
"Kate- I, yes, I did get the money."
Relief flooded through me. "Oh, thank God. Lisa, I need you to wire it back to me-"
Another pause.
"I can't. I promised not to." The anguish in her voice spoke of indelible pressure from my older siblings. The ones who thought they knew best, always judging my life choices. Granted, they had a point this time, but I would never forgive them their lack of support. To me, family meant acceptance, love. I hadn't hurt anyone but myself.
And Oggie.
"Lisa, you have to listen to me. It's the only way I can get out of the country. I wired the money to you because I knew you'd do the right thing and keep it safe until I needed it."
"I. Can't." I heard her take a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "They told me you'd just get into more trouble if I did. Kate, I'm so sorry I-"
I switched tactics and tried a harder line. "The money's mine, Lisa. You need to wire it to me, now." Lisa was the youngest of all of us and she caved whenever someone exerted authority. I hated doing that to my sweet, sensitive sister, but damn, my life was at stake.
She cried softly on the other end.
"I-I can't, Kate. I'm so sorry-"
"Lisa, wait-"
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone. The overwhelming sense of abandonment surprised me. I'd always just assumed I could count on Lisa for anything. Anger soon replaced the loss I felt. I took deep breaths to calm myself and extinguish the dark thoughts I was having of my other sisters. Anger wouldn't help me now. I needed to formulate another plan.
I hung up the phone and walked to a nearby bench to sit down and think. A scruffy, battle-scarred tabby slid past my leg and rubbed its head on my shoes, purring loudly. I reached down and scratched it behind its ears, glad for the company. Unscrewing the cap from my canteen, I poured some of the water onto the sidewalk. The cat lapped up the liquid, raised its head and meowed. Once it realized I had nothing else to give, it flicked its tail and disappeared behind a concrete building.
The way I saw it, I had two options, and neither one was exactly risk-free. I could go back to Lana's in Los Otros and dig up the money I'd buried in her yard. Or, I could go back to Oggie's. My stomach twisted at the idea.
The Lana option appeared to be the biggest risk. Her place was a long way from where I currently found myself, and much too deep into Salazar Country. The thought of having to retrace so many steps in such dangerous territory scared the hell out of me. I relegated the idea to Plan C.
But Oggie's presented serious risks, too. When Salazar and Anaya got wind that I'd survived the explosion, they could conceivably post lookouts near his place in the event that I really had stashed the money somewhere nearby. I'd have to do a little surveillance of my own, make sure no one was watching the place before digging the backpack out of the cellar. But that used up precious time I didn't have.
After agonizing over the pros and cons of each option I made my decision and purchased a ticket for the next bus to the small town near Oggie's.
***
The bus rocked me into a kind of stupor and I fell into an exhausted sleep, waking sometime later when we lurched to a stop. The bus driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror and indicated that we were where I'd told him I wanted to get off.
As I walked past him, I thanked him and handed him a tip. He smiled and nodded.
"Muchas gracias, Señora."
I watched as the back of the bus disappeared in a cloud of dust. The late afternoon sun inked the terrain with dense shadows. Careful to stay off the road in case another vehicle happened along, I began the long walk to Oggie's house. I couldn't take the risk of being seen. The only people who knew my current location were the bus driver and two older women passengers. I wasn't too concerned about the women, and the bus driver had many miles to go before he'd mention the juarita he dropped off earlier that afternoon.
The temperature difference soared between the coast and the interior. Thankful for the canteen of water, I drank deeply to replace what I lost in perspiration. I could refill it once I made it to Oggie's.
A few kilometers later, the small concrete house came into view. I stopped and scanned the area, searching for the telltale sign of someone waiting, watching. A fly buzzed next to my ear and I swatted it away from my sweaty face. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, I settled down in the shade underneath a palo verde to wait for night fall.
As soon as the shadows had melted together in the deep twilight, I stood and stretched, then checked the main road. Nothing moved. I crossed the road to Oggie's, stepping over the split-rail fence into his yard.
No sound greeted me- not even the chirp of a cricket. The place felt abandoned. I don't know what I expected as I crossed the dirt lot and stopped in front of the broken cellar door. A dark discoloration stained the ground in front of me. Dried blood from Frank's guy. I cast a nervous glance behind me, half expecting Frank to be there with a gun pointed at my back.
I shook off the fear and lifted the door. The gaping maw of the dark cellar yawned open, mocking me with visions of snakes coiled and waiting to strike. With clammy hands, I took hold of the ladder and climbed the few rungs to the dirt floor. I waited for my eyes to adjust to what sliver of light the moon gave me. The back of the cellar rested in total darkness.
Careful not to knock anything over, I groped my way toward the rear wall. A chill settled in my bones as cobwebs clung to my face and hair. Shuddering, I took a deep breath and wiped away the sticky filaments.
Finally, I reached the stack of boxes I'd stashed the backpack under and began to lift them out of the way, digging down to the bottom.
The pack was still there. I realized I’d been holding my breath and let it out with a sigh. My heart in my throat, I unzipped the main compartment and reached inside. Relief washed through me as my fingers closed around a fat stack of bills. I zipped the bag closed, got up and made my way back to the entrance.
I climbed out of the cellar and closed the door behind me. The falling darkness cast odd shadows across the abandoned homestead. Oggie's house crouched in front of me in silent condemnation. I wondered if anyone had checked on the old man and his sick cat. What if no one had bothered to rescue Wild Bill? Too much time had passed since Oggie gave him his last insulin shot.
Without thinking, I skirted the side of the house and slipped around to the front door. I had no idea what the local authorities would do once they found the body. Murder probably wasn't unheard of in these parts, but I doubted it was a common occurrence.
Oggie's VW sat parked in the same place. I walked over to it and looked inside. No keys in the ignition. I reached in and checked under the seat.
Nothing.
A sense of dread traveled upward from my stomach as I walked toward the house, not knowing what I'd find when I opened the front door. What if no one had found him yet?
My mind rejected the thought. I'd read somewhere that a rotting body had a unique odor that was hard to forget. I doubted I'd be able to get this close without smelling something.
The door handle turned easily. I nudged it open, staying to the side in case I’d been wrong and someone waited for me. There'd been no activity during the time I watched the place, so I felt relatively safe in entering.
I edged in and closed the door behind me. Relieved the place smelled of stale kitty litter, and not a decomposing body, I crossed the floor to the kitchen sink and filled my canteen from the faucet. The
n I searched the drawers and cabinets for car keys. In the third drawer I checked, I found a small wind up flashlight. I spun the handle until I got a thin beam of light and swept it around the room.
The chair Frank had tied me to still sat upright, but the one Oggie'd been sitting on lay on its side, pieces of tape still attached where his wrists and ankles had been. Dried blood stained the floor surrounding the chair. The scene blurred as tears welled in my eyes.
Oggie died because of me.
I angrily wiped the tears away and took a deep breath to clamp down on my emotions and continue my search.
The fridge light blinked on when I opened the door. The only items inside were a few bottles of Pacifico sitting next to a moldy bolio and an empty box of insulin. I closed the door and walked over to the small night stand next to the bed. The top drawer held a torrid romance and pair of reading glasses, along with a bottle of sleeping pills, but no keys. I looked under the bed, wondering what happened to Wild Bill. I quickly checked everywhere in the house a cat might hide, even though I knew Wild Bill would have come out to greet me if he was still around. Part of me wanted to stop looking, in case I did find him. The tiny bathroom held only the dirty litter box, and it didn't look like it had been used recently.
I gave up the search and walked back into the living room, ready to leave.
A car door slammed.
Voices.
Cold fear arced up my spine. Gravel crunched outside the door.
I sprinted to the back door and slipped through just as the front door opened.
"If Frank is right and she does come back, I've got a little present for her." The man spoke gutter Spanish. The other man mumbled something I didn't catch. Probably because of the blood pounding in my ears.
"Who's going to know? He wants her dead. What we do before we kill her will be our little secret, eh?" The men's laughter ricocheted off the walls of the small house.
I backed away from the window, careful not to make any noise. Once I’d gone a few feet, I spun around and slammed into an old bicycle, connecting to it with a thud. I grabbed it before it toppled, and froze, waiting for the two men to come running out after me. I started to breathe again when the laughter resumed inside the house. I skirted the mesquites and slipped behind the cellar, hopped the low fence and started running.