by Bella Juarez
He tapped the invitation against the top of the water bottle as he walked back to his bedroom. He put the bottle and invitation on the nightstand, flopped back on the bed, and let the memories roll through his mind.
High school. The tutoring sessions in Algebra that led to talking about anything and everything, sharing their deepest secrets, wishes, hopes, and plans for the future.
As they got older, his attraction to her became stronger, deeper. Her smile followed by a cute giggle or an outright, hearty laugh always made him smile. He couldn’t remember exactly when things changed, but there came a time when he no longer wanted to tease her and pull on her ponytail. He visualized removing the hair elastic holding that ponytail and watching her hair flow around her shoulders and down her back.
His high school buddies teased him mercilessly whenever they caught him watching her.
“Dude, you do not wanna get involved with that. She’ll cut your ‘nads off and feed ’em to her dog before you even know they’re gone.”
Dan knew better. Unlike his peers, he’d gotten to know Rio, and she’d become one of his two best friends. Her brother, Davey, had been his best bud for as long as he could remember—and that was the problem.
Guys learned early to abide by the first rule of the Bro Code: Bros before hoes. The second rule was even more concrete than the first: A bro’ never, ever dates or comes on to his BFF’s sister. The Gamez and Jensen families’ Hispanic heritage and values were deeply ingrained in both boys such that the second rule in the code was a matter of a man’s honor. And a man’s honor was held above everything. Rio was off-limits. Period.
Nevertheless, hearts, hormones, and heritage never gave a shit about rules, codes, or even honor.
The memory of Rio’s take-charge nature made Dan’s cock spring to life and brought him wide awake. She directed everything other than their study time, and he let her because it was natural for their relationship. He had such a huge crush on her back then, and even now, she drew an instant reaction stronger than before. There was always that one situation he drew on to remember her, a problem that had upset him and how he’d been at a loss about how to deal with it. She’d taken his hand and calmly talked him through the solution. Her touch made him go liquid, and all he could do was listen. Remembering what her touch felt like and how in control she was as she walked him through the problem turned him on.
Jerking his hips, he rubbed his now swollen cock against the towel still around his waist. How many times had he pictured her face instead of the girl he’d been fucking while in college? Why didn’t he ever go for what he really wanted? He remembered she’d joined the Air Force during one of his busy semesters and had left for basic training before he could get home to say good-bye. The thought of Rio in a uniform…
He tore the towel away and grabbed his cock. As he stroked himself to his favorite fantasy of her tying him down and fucking his brains out, he imagined her tight pussy caressing his cock in place of his fingers. He pictured her hands gripping his face and kissing him like a boss. He squeezed his raging-hard cock tighter and quickened the pace at the image of her taking control. Thoughts of her wrestling power away from him like that made his balls tighten against his body as his cock swelled in his hand. With the image of her face in his mind, his nerve endings snapped, setting off a chain reaction. He squeezed his eyes shut when the first wave slammed him, forcing him to arch his back. He stroked faster as a second wave hit, and his dick erupted, spraying semen onto his belly and chest. He fought to catch his breath and slowed his strokes as his cock softened.
“Rio,” he whispered as he relaxed. “I’ve missed you.”
Chapter 2
El Casa De Alacrán
Nacozari de García, Sonora, Mexico
174 km from the United States border
June 3, 2010/1243 Zulu
Ignacio “Alacrán” Montenegro sat alone at the table on the patio and closed his eyes briefly as he absorbed the peaceful atmosphere. The table was neatly set for breakfast, and the sounds of the early morning desert filled the air around him. He had a long, hectic day ahead, because his multimillion-dollar empire required his attention almost twenty-four hours a day.
He sipped his mango juice. Yesterday had been a bad day and had caused a rife between him and the man coming to join him.
“Nacho, your guest has arrived.” Umberto had been Nacho’s servant since boyhood and one of the very few permitted to address Ignacio by his childhood nickname.
“Show him in.”
When he returned, he seated Minister Nayyaf Bakri at the table. Nacho observed the man for a moment before speaking. He noticed his guest had become drawn and tired, so unlike the fervor and passion he’d demonstrated in past meetings. Yesterday, he’d been angry at the abduction of his secretary. Nevertheless, this man needed him right now. Nacho had been following his dealings with some amusement. Bakri clearly didn’t understand the inner workings of the cartel. He believed politics governed them. At times, it did, but mostly it came down to an organization with the stomach to do unconscionable violence at the blink of an eye. Nacho played for much higher stakes with swift consequences for the wrong move.
“Minister Bakri, can I get you something?” he asked pleasantly.
“Since we were interrupted yesterday, I just need you to get something to New York for me in a couple of months,” Bakri replied shortly.
“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”
“No. Thank you.”
“And what is it this time?”
“The case of weapons I had sent here.”
The minister had the look of a man whose confidence had been shaken. Nacho didn’t need to ask what had changed him. He knew exactly what had happened—the minister had become a hunted man. The debacle of a rival gang kidnapping his secretary had shaken him even further. They were still waiting for a ransom request. He’d already given the order to get to the bottom of yesterday’s breach in his security. He would fix it, and it would never happen again. Before he made any sort of agreement with Bakri, he needed to find out what sort of trouble this man had brought with him before he made another decision regarding their relationship.
“What’s wrong minister? What sort of trouble have you brought to my door?” Nacho asked.
“Can you do this or not?” Bakri asked.
Nacho cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at the tone of the outburst. The expression that crossed Bakri’s face told him the minister realized his mistake by the way he shrank back in his chair. “Forgive me. It’s been a long trip, and I’m very tired. Everything seems to be going wrong,” Bakri said.
“Forgiven and forgotten.” Nacho waved off the comment indicating his forgiveness. “You should rest here. We’re safe from prying eyes.” Watching Bakri relax he continued, “Minister, perhaps we can help each other. I’m also in need of assistance.”
“Anything, my old friend, but this shipment must leave as soon as I send word. I hope you understand the urgency,” Bakri said.
The minister sounded like his old self, indicating he’d let down his guard. Nacho waved to his servant.
“Umberto, set a place for Minister Bakri, and serve him breakfast. I’m sure you remember what he prefers.” Nacho turned to Bakri. “Of course, I understand. The box you sent is safe in my warehouse, I checked it this morning. Are you sure you can’t stay a few days?”
Bakri looked around. “It is peaceful here. Perhaps I will delay my trip back to Houston and stay with you, my friend. I could use the rest, and we can discuss what I can do for you.”
Nacho’s smile hid a deep sadness. “My daughter disappeared twenty years ago when the Americans invaded Panama. I found out she’d gone to a boarding school here in Mexico. The Americans who took her changed her identity, and she disappeared. I haven’t heard anything of her in eleven years. The last time anyone saw her, she was with one of the Americans who’d taken her from Panama.”
Chapter 3
State Highway 80
South
Tombstone, Arizona
June 15, 2010/0114 Zulu
“Are you kidding me? Where the hell are the gas stations and McDonald’s in this state? Christ! I thought you were kidding when you told me Benson was the last stop.” Friday was definitely aggravated.
“Jesus! It’s only thirty minutes to my sister’s house from here. Quit your bitching,” Dan countered.
“I never thought I’d see a place worse than Afghanistan. How the hell do you live out here? We’re still in the United States, right? What godforsaken place doesn’t have a fucking McDonald’s?” Friday glanced down at his phone. “And a cell phone signal!”
“There’s a Burger King in Bisbee, for crying out loud. Damn! No wonder you can’t find a girlfriend. You’d be the bitchy pussy in the relationship. No woman wants that kind of competition.”
“Fuck you!”
They were near the end of an eleven-hour drive that kicked off the mandatory thirty-days’ leave they’d been ordered to take. Their leave had been delayed a week due to a visit from the head of Navy Special Warfare. They were also introduced to a group commander from a new Marine Recon battalion due to set up in San Antonio at Fort Sam Houston Army Base. Dan had decided to go to his class reunion, and Friday invited himself to tag along. His sister Emily had been more than happy to put them up. His other brothers had long since moved out of Arizona, but his parents still lived near the small desert town where he’d grown up, opting to move into a smaller, easier-to-maintain house near Sierra Vista.
Bisbee, Arizona, was a border town two hours southeast of Tucson. While growing up in the suburbs of Bisbee, he recalled how the natives would refer to downtown as Old Bisbee. As he passed the city limits sign, he noticed the population had fallen. He briefly wondered if all the cartel violence plaguing the Texas border had reached Sonora and spilled into the region Arizona shared with Mexico. In the three years he’d been working with a new kind of SEAL team, he’d seen the Central and South American cartels in action firsthand. The media never reported that the border wars were often directly linked with the war they were fighting against Middle Eastern terrorists.
He smiled as he pulled up to his sister’s house. It was good to be home.
“It’s hot here,” Friday grumbled as they waited for his sister to answer the door.
Dan rolled his eyes. “Do you have a pair of ovaries or testicles? You bitch worse than anyone I know. Male or female.”
“Danny!” Emily cried when she opened the door and threw her arms around him giving him a hug.
“Hey, big sis!” Dan said as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground.
“Uncle Danny!” a little voice piped up from below.
“Kimi, is that you?” He released his sister and picked up his niece. “You’ve gotten so big, baby!”
“I’m six now. I got the doll you sent me from Turkey, and the one from Afghanistan, and the one from Sweden, and the… Who’s that?” Kimi asked, pointing a little finger at Friday when she noticed him.
“He’s a friend of mine. We call him Friday.”
“Why?” Kimi asked, screwing up her nose.
“Because I was stranded on a desert island called Arizona without a McDonald’s, and I had to fight off all kinds of wild pigs and lions just so I could eat,” Friday said.
“Nuh-uh,” Kimi said, shaking her head.
“Uh-huh.” Friday nodded vigorously.
“Are you hungry? We have a Burger King, if that’s what you want. I made dinner,” Emily said, leading them into the house.
“Jesus! Friday, you’re a pain in the ass,” Dan said under his breath.
The aroma of what could only be Emily’s incredible lasagna wafted through the house, filling Dan with the comfort of being home with family once more. Friday seemed to pick up on it as well and visibly relaxed at the prospect of eating a decent meal. Emily bustled around the kitchen making final preparations, and Dan called his parents to let them know he’d finally arrived.
* * * *
Nearly two hours later, they were sitting around the table digesting a satisfying meal, and Dan had been thoroughly briefed on family news and those friends who still lived in the area. When his parents left, he and his sister caught up.
“Are you planning on spending time with Davey while you’re here?” Emily asked.
“He’s my best friend; of course I am. We’re supposed to meet at St. Elmo’s tomorrow. Have you heard anything about Rio?”
“She moved back here a little over a year ago. Davey didn’t tell you?”
Dan’s heart rate sped up. The idea of Rio being so close flashed images of her bringing him to his knees and made him breathe a little quicker. He remembered the last time Davey mentioned anything about his little sister and Davey had told him she’d moved to California. Dan had just moved to San Antonio. He’d assumed since she’d joined the Air Force she’d be way north of San Diego. Otherwise, he’d have tried to find her on his trips to Coronado.
“Really? I thought she was in the military? Did she get out?”
“She’s with the Border Patrol,” Emily replied as a mischievous smile crossed her lips. “She looks great. I never did understand why you two never hooked up.”
“I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” Dan turned away to watch Friday help Kimi paint her nails.
“You know what I think? I think she scared you. She was the only one that never put up with your pranks.”
Dan chuckled. “I got her a couple of times.”
“Yeah, you did.” Emily laughed. “Are you going to see her?”
“I don’t know. If she looks as great as you say, I’m sure she’s probably seeing someone.”
“I don’t think so. I know she does a lot of volunteer work at the animal shelter, but I’ve never seen her out with anyone other than her mother or Davey,” Emily said.
Dan shrugged. “I might drop by.”
“Why don’t you do what you should’ve a long time ago and ask her out?”
* * * *
“Omaha, come back with your last transmission. Did you say you had eyes on something?” Rio spoke quietly. The static on her end made the radio transmission unclear.
“Affirmative, ground. I have a heat signature about fifty yards off my nose.”
“Gonzales, LeFevre, did you copy?” Rio asked.
“Copy.”
“Copy.”
Customs and Border Patrol, or CBP, Agent Rio Jensen, and five other agents were in harsh desert terrain searching for illegals being smuggled across the US-Mexican border. The Naco Border Patrol Station, which she and her team were assigned to, covered approximately 1,175 miles including thirty-two miles of international boundary between the United States and Mexico. As a supervisory border patrol agent, she and the team that reported to her were responsible for the sections of mountain ranges, national forest, and inhospitable desert within their jurisdiction.
This sort of activity was CBP Agent Jensen’s standard day. The sensors tripped daily along known paths running through the unforgiving Arizona scrub land. For the last week, they seemed to trigger an alarm hourly, indicating illegal traffic had increased at a breakneck pace. Her partner gave a low growl, and with a gentle hand gesture, she quieted the huge German shepherd at her side. She checked her weapon and listened to the radio traffic. It seemed as if the group they were chasing had given the agents and the chopper in the air—designated Omaha—the slip.
Schotzie gave another low growl.
Rio turned down the staticky radio and listened intently to the sounds of the night and tensed. Something’s wrong. She and her team had been laid-up for three hours, so the wildlife had returned to its normal activity after she settled in. Tuning in to her surroundings, she noticed there were no little animals scurrying about. She didn’t hear the usual sounds of bugs whistling and chirping, an unnatural quiet for this part of the desert. Something in the air had changed. Omaha and the other agents must’ve flushed the smugglers her
way, upsetting the natural balance around her. She listened more intently and finally heard what the desert already knew, the pounding of running feet approaching her position.
“Get ‘em!”
Schotzie ran off and stopped most of the group with her vicious barking and snapping. She heard the shouts of the other agents on foot getting closer as she ordered the rest of the group to get down.
“¡Alto! ¡Bajar en el suelo! Stop and get down on the ground!” She spoke in Spanish and English.
Most of the group complied, but two men broke and ran. Rio could only handle so many at one time, and this group looked substantial.
“Schotzie! Chase and hold!” As the other agents came into view she took off calling behind her, “We have runners. I’m going after them.”
She took off in the direction of Schotzie’s barking, located the dog, and found she had cornered the men in a small arroyo. Because the dog had surprised them, they hadn’t tried anything yet, but Rio saw one of them reaching for something. She leveled her service weapon and shined her flashlight in their faces.
“¡Poner las manos en la cabeza y no se mueva! Schotzie, come!”
Schotzie retreated at her command. The two men blinked in the face of the bright light she’d directed at them. Her dog released a menacing growl. Grateful the big dog had her back because she couldn’t look away from her suspects, she watched Schotzie in her periphery. The German shepherd didn’t look behind, which would indicate to her that someone could be sneaking up on her. Being alone with two potentially dangerous men in the dark wasn’t her idea of a good time, and she needed to call for backup but couldn’t free her hands to put down her flashlight or gun.
“¿Que pasa, chica?” one of the men asked slyly as he moved forward.