Invasion Usa: Border War

by Johnstone, William W.

  She wore a plain white bra, the sort that was greatly appealing to some men, although Guerrero himself was for the most part immune to the charms of this girl. She was old enough to have a woman’s body, but her mind and her heart were still young and innocent. She put a hand on the desk to steady herself as she pulled off first one shoe and then the other. She wore short, ankle-length white socks underneath them.

  Guerrero waited patiently. Laura unzipped her jeans and unfastened the button holding the waist closed. She pushed them down over her hips, revealing white cotton panties. The jeans fell around her ankles. She stepped out of them.

  She paused as if hoping that he would tell her that was enough. When Guerrero just looked calmly and intently at her and didn’t say anything, after a moment she sighed and reached behind her to unfasten the bra’s clasp. It came loose. She shrugged the straps down from her shoulders and with a certain touch of defiance let the undergarment fall away from her breasts. Then she hooked her thumbs in her panties, pushed them down, and stepped out of them. That left her clad only in her socks. Guerrero said nothing about them.

  He studied her with an experienced eye. Her breasts were fairly large and had the firmness of youth. The nipples were pale pink. They grew puckered and hard under Guerrero’s gaze, not from arousal but rather from fear and probably the coolness in the air. This part of the old mission was air-conditioned, of course. Guerrero dropped his eyes over her belly to the swell of her hips, the fine lines of her thighs and calves, and the triangle of fair hair that covered her sex. His gaze was not the caressing one of a lover, but rather the calculated study of a man assessing potential value.

  In the case of Laura Simms, that value was quite high, Guerrero decided. It might go even higher.

  “Make your hair loose,” he told her.

  Hesitating a second, more confused than defiant, she finally reached behind her head, pulled the elastic holder from her ponytail, and let her hair fall around her shoulders and a short distance down her back.

  “Shake your head,” Guerrero ordered.

  Laura shook her head, making the blond hair fall more naturally.

  “Now, tell me, Laura,” Guerrero said as he clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him, “have you ever been with a man?”

  She shook her head again, this time in reply to his question. Her face flamed with embarrassment at being forced to stand naked in front of these men and answer such a humiliating query.

  “You have never had intercourse? You swear this?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” she answered in a tiny voice. “I’ve never ... done it.”

  “Excellent. Now, if you would, please turn toward that camera ... there, the one attached to the computer.”

  Laura took a deep breath as if steeling herself for what was to come and turned toward the camera. Guerrero swiveled his chair and rolled it over to the workstation, where he tapped a key and said, “Señor Willingham, are you there?”

  A voice came back from the computer’s speakers. “Yes, Colonel, I am.”

  Guerrero smiled and said, “Prepare yourself for a vision of heaven, my old friend.”

  He clicked the mouse and turned the camera on.

  “Oh, my word,” Willingham said. “Is that beautiful angel there in your office right now, Colonel?”

  “Indeed she is, mi amigo.”

  “I ... I’ve never seen anything quite so lovely.” Willingham’s voice trembled slightly, as if in the grip of powerful emotions. “Have her turn around. I want to see her ass.”

  “Please, Señorita,” Guerrero said to Laura. “You heard my friend.”

  Slowly, she turned and stopped so that her back was to the camera.

  “Oh, my,” Willingham said. “Oh, my.”

  “Should she turn around again?” Guerrero asked.

  “That would be fine.”

  Guerrero said, “Face the camera again, Señorita.”

  As Laura turned, Willingham asked, “What’s her name?”

  “What name do you like, Señor? If you purchase her, you can call her anything that pleases you.”

  “I think ... I think I’ll call her ... Roberta. Yes. Roberta. I’ve always liked that name.”

  Guerrero happened to know that Roberta was the name of Willingham’s late mother. He made it a habit to find out as much as he could about the backgrounds of his customers, just in case he ever needed to make use of such information. In this case, it was totally irrelevant. Guerrero had no interest whatsoever in the depth of the Englishman’s perversions, except as they impacted his bank account.

  Willingham went on. “How much will she cost me, Colonel?”

  “Well, that is hard to say, my friend. It all depends on how interested the other bidders are.”

  “The other bidders?” Willingham sounded surprised and angry. “I thought you were offering her to me!”

  “I wished to give you an advance look at the merchandise because we have done business together before, Señor. But to be fair to my men, I must get as high a price as I can. Therefore, an auction.”

  “Listen, Colonel, we can’t have that,” Willingham insisted. “I simply can’t take a chance on letting this one get away. I haven’t seen a girl of this quality for ... for the Devil only knows how long! I’ll make you a firm offer of a million dollars right now.”

  Laura gasped. Obviously, she couldn’t help it.

  “You see, Señor Willingham, you have surprised her,” Guerrero said. “In her innocent state, she had no idea she was worth such a great deal of money.”

  “Innocent?” Willingham said quickly, snapping up the bait Guerrero had dangled. “Are you saying that ... do you mean that she’s ... a ...”

  “Indeed,” Guerrero murmured, but still loudly enough for the computer microphone to pick it up. “A virgin. Completely untouched.”

  A moan, an actual moan of longing, came from the speakers. “I must have her, I simply must,” Willingham said. “Five million. Five million dollars, Colonel, but only if she doesn’t go to auction. Also, you’ll have to provide medical proof of her, ah, unsullied state.”

  “Done,” Guerrero said without hesitation. “She will be waiting here for you, along with the proof you require.”

  “You can’t have her brought here to me? I would think for that price, you could arrange delivery.”

  “Of course I could, Señor Willingham,” Guerrero said smoothly, “but I thought you would like to attend the auction anyway, and you can pick her up then. There are many other girls, and you might be interested in some of them, as well.”

  “After paying five million for this one? Not bloody likely.” Willingham paused, then went on. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a look, eh? All right, I’ll attend. You’ll let me know the time and the place?”

  “Of course. And you will take care of the deposit on this transaction, Señor?”

  “Yes, yes, the standard twenty-five percent, one-point-two-five million. I should transfer it to the usual Cayman Islands account?”

  “That would be splendid,” Guerrero said.

  “It’ll be taken care of by the end of business today. We’ll be in touch, eh?”

  “Of course. As always, a pleasure doing business with you, Señor.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Colonel.” Guerrero could almost see Willingham rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Yes, all mine.”

  Guerrero tapped a couple of keys, breaking the connection and killing the little red light on the camera that showed it was on. He smiled at Laura Simms and said, “You can get dressed again now, Señorita.”

  Hurriedly, she pulled her clothes on, clearly relieved not to have to stand there naked and humiliated any longer. But she was worried, too, and that was evident in her voice as she said, “You ... you just sold me to that guy?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Then ... I won’t be going home, will I?”

  “Unfortunately, no. However, there is nothing for you to worry about.
You will lead a pampered existence with Señor Willingham, and I am sure it will not take long for you to grow accustomed to his ... eccentricities.”

  Laura shuddered.

  She didn’t know the worst of it, Guerrero thought. He had no personal knowledge of what happened to the girls Willingham purchased, but the fact that the Englishman periodically needed another one did not bode well for their longevity. Either he tired of them and passed them on to some of his associates—all those perverts seemed to know one another—or he disposed of them in some other fashion. Either way, the future looked none too good for Laura Simms.

  But the Night Wolves would be five million dollars richer, so what did it matter?

  Twenty

  Ricardo took Laura out into the hall while Major Cortez remained with Colonel Guerrero for a minute, getting instructions of some sort. As she pulled her hair into a ponytail again under Ricardo’s watchful eye, she said to him in a low voice, “How can you do things like this?”

  Stiffly, he said, “Please do not talk to me, Señorita. I am here to follow the orders given by my superiors, that is all.”

  “But you hate it!” she persisted. “You know what they’re doing is wrong. You know that Rosa and Billie Sue didn’t deserve to die. And I think you want to help us.”

  He looked away from her and shook his head. “I cannot.”

  “Sure you can. You don’t have to do what they say. I’ll bet you could turn us loose without anybody knowing—”

  The door to Guerrero’s office swung open then, and Cortez stepped out. Laura fell silent and looked at the floor. She hoped that Cortez didn’t realize she had been talking to Ricardo. Despite the younger man’s refusal to help the captives, Laura thought he might come around eventually if she had a chance to work on him.

  “Take the girl to the first room in the old granary,” Cortez said to Ricardo.

  “Wait a minute,” Laura said. “I’m not going back with the others?”

  Cortez shook his head. “Colonel Guerrero feels that it would be wise to separate you from them.”

  “So I won’t tell them what you have in mind for us.” Laura’s voice rose. She knew she shouldn’t allow herself to get angry, but she couldn’t help it. The past half hour or so had been just too much for her to withstand without venting some emotion. First to be forced to strip and stand there naked in front of those men, while some pervert ogled her over the computer, and now to be separated from her friends ... “You don’t want them to know that you’re going to auction them off like cattle and make whores out of them!”

  “Take her and stay with her until someone comes to relieve you,” Cortez went on to Ricardo. He smiled coldly at Laura. “But such pretty cattle.”

  Ricardo nodded. “Of course, Major.”

  “Be glad that I did not fully inform the colonel of your negligence earlier,” Cortez added. “He does not know that it was your carelessness which cost that girl her life.”

  “I am grateful for your discretion, Major.”

  His rigid tone easing a bit, Cortez said, “I think you have the makings of a good soldier, Benitez. Do not force me to regret the decision I have made.”

  He turned away and went back into Guerrero’s office, leaving Ricardo in the hallway with Laura. She thought fleetingly about trying to get away from him, but discarded the idea almost right away. He was a lot bigger and stronger than she was, and he had a gun. She told herself that she had to be patient. Maybe the time would come when Ricardo would want to help her. That had to be her goal right now, because it represented the best bet for her and her friends to escape.

  She had already given up hope of any help coming from outside. Nobody knew where they were. Nobody was going to come get them.

  If they were going to gain their freedom, they would have to do it themselves.

  Ricardo took her outside the mission’s main building. Even under the circumstances, it felt good to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. She looked around, hoping to be able to tell something about where the mission was located. Knowledge was power. But high adobe walls cut off her view.

  He led her across a courtyard lined with flower beds to another adobe building. From what Major Cortez had said, Laura knew that once this had been the mission’s granary. These old missions had been designed to be self-sufficient, with gardens for growing vegetables, a herd of cattle for milk and beef, and nearby fields worked by the Indians where grain was grown. That grain was ground into flour at the mill inside this granary.

  Those days were long gone, though, and now the old building had been converted into bedrooms. Ricardo took her to one of them and motioned with his rifle for her to go through the arched doorway.

  The room had only one window, and it looked out into the courtyard, rather than outside the mission. The floor was Spanish tile, but part of it was covered with a woven rug. A bed with a heavy wooden headboard and wooden posts at the foot sat on one side of the room; a hardwood table with a couple of uncomfortable-looking chairs sat on the other. A chest of drawers with a lamp on it was the only other piece of furniture. An open door in one corner led into a tiny bathroom. Laura glanced up and saw an air-conditioning vent on the rear wall near the ceiling. It was much too small to offer any hope of escape.

  Ricardo nodded toward the table. “Sit down,” he said.

  “I think I’d rather sit on the bed. Those chairs must be some old Spanish torture devices, from the looks of them.”

  “Suit yourself, Señorita.”

  “My name is Laura,” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you call me that?”

  He looked away without replying.

  Laura sighed. Flirting didn’t come naturally to her like it did to Shannon and some of the other girls. She’d had a couple of boyfriends, but their romances had consisted of eating lunch together at school, going out to movies with friends, and a few clumsy hugs and kisses. By no stretch of the imagination did she consider herself a seductress.

  Anyway, it was too early for that. Ricardo wasn’t going to betray his friends just because she dangled sex at him. Not right away. She would have to work on him for a while.

  She told herself that she had time. That guy Willingham had made it sound like he wasn’t all that close to Nuevo Laredo. If he was coming to the auction that Guerrero had planned—the very thought of which made a shiver go through her—then it might be several days off, at the very least. Maybe Ricardo would be assigned to guard her all the time, and she would have a few days to convince him to help her.

  So for now she would take it slow. She sat on the bed and managed to smile at him, although a large part of her was still in shock from everything that had happened. She had to force herself not to remember what Billie Sue had looked like, slumped there against the wall of the cell, the bloodstain spreading on her shirt... .

  Ricardo sat down at the table with his rifle across his knees. “Food will be brought to you,” he said. “This is a better room than where you were.”

  “My friends are still there, though.” An idea occurred to her. “Could they come here and stay with me? They could bring their sleeping bags and put them on the floor. It would be like a ... a slumber party.”

  “The colonel wants you kept apart from them. That is the reason you are here.”

  “Yeah, he figures he’d have trouble on his hands if they knew what he’s going to do with them. Most of them still think they’re being held for ransom, and that their families will get them out of here.”

  Ricardo didn’t say anything.

  Deciding to change tack a little, Laura asked, “Is Angelina Salinas really Colonel Guerrero’s daughter?”

  The sharp breath that Ricardo took in told her it was true. “Do you know this girl?”

  “Not all that well.” Just as a boy-crazy, pop-culture-obsessed slut, which wasn’t surprising considering that Angelina was Shannon’s best friend. But Laura didn’t think it would be a good idea to say that.

  “Where
is she?” she went on. “What’s happened to her? I’ll bet if she’s really the colonel’s daughter, she’s getting the royal treatment. She’s not stuck in an old cell somewhere, is she?”

  “I cannot discuss these matters.”

  “You mean you won’t. I don’t remember ever hearing Angelina say anything about her dad. I guess she knew he was some sort of gangster and was ashamed of him. I couldn’t believe that he just killed Sister Katherine like that—”

  Colonel Guerrero had shot a nun. Ricardo remembered how he had felt and allowed his stoic façade to crack.

  Solemnly, Laura nodded. “After they had taken us all off the bus, Sister Katherine tried to stop Guerrero. He had an automatic rifle in his hand. He shot her down in cold blood, just like that.”

  Ricardo’s jaw tightened.

  “You weren’t there?” Laura asked.

  He shook his head. “I was not part of the group that carried out the assignment.”

  “They blew up a bunch of cars on the highway, too. Probably killed a lot of people. People are dying right and left because of your friends, Ricardo.”

  “I do as I am told... .”

  “You know, in world history class, we read about the trials at Nuremberg after World War Two. A lot of those Nazi war criminals claimed they were just following orders, too.”

  His head came up sharply. “We have not killed millions of people.”

  “Murder is still murder,” Laura said. “It’s just a matter of degree.”

  He looked intently at her for a moment and then said, “You seem ... older than your years.”

  “I don’t date much, so I have a lot of time to read.”

  “You should go out and enjoy life,” he mused. “A girl so young and pretty.”

  “Well, in the future it looks like I won’t be dating much of anybody except that guy Willingham.”

  Ricardo looked away. Laura was sure he felt badly about his part in all this, and that was good. The more guilt, the better.