“Diplomatic pressure hardly ever works, and when it does, it takes forever. Those girls don’t have time to wait.”
“How do you know that?”
“Whatever the Night Wolves do,” Tom said, “they won’t waste any time doing it. We probably don’t have more than a few days. That’s what my gut tells me anyway.”
“So in less than a week you’re going to take a bunch of average citizens, arm them, find out where the captives are being held, and go down there to get them back?”
Tom said, “There’s an old saying about how fortune favors the bold.”
Rodgers stared at him for a second and then said, “Here’s an old saying for you ... you go down south of the border, you’re liable to get your ass shot off.”
“If we do that ... and I’m not saying we are ... it’ll be our asses that we’re risking, won’t it?”
Rodgers stared for a moment longer, then shook his head. “I can’t argue with a crazy man,” he said. He added to the others, “But you folks don’t have to let him lead you into more craziness, either.”
With that, the Ranger turned on his heel and stalked out of the building. Van Sant watched him go and asked worriedly, “Is he going to blow the whistle on us?”
“I don’t think so,” Tom said. “I think that deep down he wants to go with us. His devotion to duty just won’t let him. But he won’t try to stop us, either.”
“We’ll be wagering a lot that your instinct about him is right, Tom.”
Tom said, “I know. We’re betting the lives of all those girls.”
The meeting broke up shortly after that, after everyone agreed to get together at the gun club again the following night. There was plenty to be done between now and then, and Tom was going to do most of it. For one thing, they needed to recruit more members to their cause. Tom hoped to talk to Joe Delgado and Frank Ramirez again and see if they had had any luck in rounding up more men who would be interested in such a highly illegal, dangerous effort. Being outnumbered two to one would be bad enough, and they still had a way to go before they reached even those odds.
Then there was the matter of weapons. Craig Lambert was right about a few things, one of them being the level of armament they would be facing. If they were going south of the border, they would need to go packing deadlier heat than what they had now.
Tom hoped that Brady Keller might be able to give them a hand with that angle. The crippled DEA agent had mentioned the contacts he still had in the law enforcement community. Maybe one of those contacts would be willing to take a chance on helping them... .
In the meantime, Tom still had to deal with Bonnie.
Just as he expected, she was waiting for him when he came into the house. She sat in the living room, flipping idly through a magazine. Back in the den, Tom could see a bored-looking FBI technician, the third one who had taken a shift at the Simms house.
Bonnie put the magazine aside and stood up. Tom moved to take her in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead and asked, “Where’s Kelly?”
“She’s gone to bed. She took one of the sedatives the doctor gave her. She couldn’t stand the waiting.”
“I know how she feels,” Tom murmured.
“Do you, Tom? Do you, really?”
He frowned. “Well, it’s not our daughter who’s missing, of course, so I reckon I don’t. Not exactly, anyway. But I want Laura back here safely, you know that.”
“Yes, I know,” Bonnie said. “I also know you don’t have a lot of patience with the proper authorities.”
“If they really did their job properly—”
She cut in, “You’re more of a do-it-yourself troublemaker, aren’t you, Tom?”
A little angrily, he said, “I seem to remember you being right there with the rest of us when it came time to defend Little Tucson from M-15.”
“I had no choice. We were left hanging out there to either defend ourselves or die.”
“We’ve been left hanging here, too,” Tom said. “Only this time it’ll be Laura and the rest of those girls who die if somebody doesn’t get them out of whatever hellhole they’re stashed in.”
“Somebody ... meaning you?”
“Not alone,” he said.
She slipped out of his arms and stepped back. “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”
“Doing what?”
“Putting together an army to fight for what’s right.”
A smile touched his lips. “At least you didn’t make some veiled crack about what I think is right.”
“Oh, I know you’re right,” Bonnie said. “I’ve seen the government in action ... or I should say, inaction. As long as the Mexicans stonewall, the authorities won’t do anything.”
“That’s right. It’s up to the people.”
“Just like in 1776.”
“Wait a minute,” Tom said. “Don’t go comparing me to the Founding Fathers. This isn’t a revolution. I love my country.”
“You just want it to do the right thing, and when it won’t, you do it yourself.”
“I just want to get those girls back,” he said. “It’s really that simple.”
“Yes,” Bonnie said softly, “I guess it is. And you’ll risk your life to do it, too, won’t you?”
“If that’s the only choice I have.”
She turned away, her back stiff and straight as a ramrod. “I have a pretty good idea where you went tonight. Not the exact place, but I know you went somewhere to get together with people who feel the same way.”
“Yeah,” Tom admitted quietly with a glance toward the den. He didn’t want the FBI agent eavesdropping on this conversation.
“Do you know what really bothers me, Tom?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
She looked at him again. “I’m upset that you didn’t take me with you.”
He gazed at her intently for a second and fought the urge to laugh. That was just like Bonnie, he thought. Here he had figured she would be mad at him for even being mixed up in such a wild-ass scheme, and in reality she was upset because she wasn’t part of it, too.
Nor would she be, if he had anything to say about it. “Kelly needs you here with her,” he said.
“Damn it, Tom—”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Listen to me, Bonnie. It’s hard enough on Kelly having Laura in danger. She doesn’t need to face the possibility of losing her sister, as well.”
“What about the possibility of me losing my husband?”
“Women have to send their husbands—and their fathers and brothers and sons—off to war all the time, knowing that they might not come back. It’s a hard thing, but it’s part of life and probably always will be.”
“This isn’t a war,” Bonnie said.
Tom disagreed with her. “That’s exactly what it is. Sure, it’s on a smaller scale than a war between countries, but it’s still a war. The outlaws are on one side, and the decent folks are on the other.”
“You’re telling me you’re doing it for Randolph Scott.”
Again he almost laughed. Quoting Mel Brooks wasn’t a tactic he had expected from her.
But actually, she was right, and he said so. “The country’s changed since the days when Randolph Scott and John Wayne made movies. There’s no real justice anymore. People don’t stand up for what’s right. They wait for the government to do it for them. They’d rather talk about how they can’t do this and they can’t do that, instead of figuring out what they can do. And when evil wins, they just shrug their shoulders and say that’s how the world is. Well, that’s not the way I’m built, Bonnie. I can’t just roll over because the rest of the world does.”
She reached up to brush her fingertips against his cheek. “I know,” she said in a half whisper. “I know, Tom. If you ever gave up when you knew you were right, you wouldn’t be the man I married.” She kissed him quickly, and her voice broke a little as she went on. “But if anything happened to you, I ... I don’t know if I could bear it.”
Twenty-three
When Tom’s cell phone rang the next morning, he wasn’t surprised to hear Brady Keller’s voice on the other end.
“Can you come see me this morning?” Keller asked. “Better not bring Rodgers with you, though. I’ve got a feeling he won’t want to be involved from here on out.”
“Yeah, I’ve got the same feeling,” Tom agreed. “I’ll be there.”
They settled on a time and broke the connection. Tom was in the kitchen, leaning a hip against the counter, while Bonnie mixed pancake batter in a bowl a few steps away. Without looking at him, she asked, “More commando stuff?”
“You sure you really want to know?”
She glanced angrily at him. “Don’t shut me out, Tom Brannon. I want to know what you’re up to, even if you are going to be stubborn about letting me be part of it.”
Tom lowered his voice so the FBI agent in the den couldn’t overhear and said, “Yeah, I have to go see Brady Keller this morning. He’s that former DEA agent I told you about.”
“The one who was hurt so badly in that ambush?”
“Yeah. He’s sort of the resident expert on the Night Wolves.”
A little shudder ran through Bonnie’s body. “What a horrible name.”
“A horrible bunch.”
The phone that Tom had slipped back into his pocket rang again. He answered it and heard a man’s voice say, “This is Joe Delgado, Brannon.”
“Hello, Joe.” Tom kept his own voice noncommittal and waited to hear what Delgado had to say.
“You still interested in what you talked about at City Hall with me and Frank Ramirez?”
“More than ever,” Tom said.
“Yeah, well, so are we. And so are some of the guys we talked to later. We need to get together.”
“How many men are we talking about?”
“Fifteen, I’d say.”
That news buoyed Tom’s spirits. The odds, though still high, were getting smaller. It was time now to bring the two groups together. Tom told Delgado to bring the men he and Ramirez had contacted to the gun club that night.
Once Bonnie had the pancakes ready, she went to wake up Kelly, who was still sleeping off the sedative. Tom was looking in the cabinet for syrup when he heard Bonnie scream.
He charged down the hall, not thinking about anything except getting to his wife. Bonnie wouldn’t have screamed like that unless something was wrong. Tom’s heart pounded heavily at the thought she might be in danger.
He skidded to a stop in the doorway of Kelly’s bedroom. Bonnie leaned over the bed and clutched her sister’s shoulders. She shook Kelly hard and shouted, “Wake up! You’ve got to wake up!”
Tom’s eyes went to the bedside table and saw the prescription bottle lying there on its side, empty with its cap off. He had no idea how many sleeping pills had been in it, but Kelly had taken them all. He lunged to the bed and reached past Bonnie to put his hand on Kelly’s neck and search for a pulse.
He found one, but it was slow and irregular. Slipping his arms under Kelly’s arms, he lifted her out of the bed and balanced her on her feet. “Call nine-one-one!” he told Bonnie. “We need an ambulance and paramedics here right away to pump her stomach.”
Bonnie snatched up the phone beside the empty pill bottle and punched in the emergency numbers. While she was talking to the 911 dispatcher, Tom walked Kelly back and forth across the room. She was so limp that he was dragging her more than forcing her to walk, but he hoped that his actions would get her blood moving. Her head lolled on his shoulder. She muttered something, but he couldn’t make out anything except Laura’s name.
Even as he tried desperately to keep his sister-in-law from slipping away, Tom knew what had brought on this tragic attempt on her own life. Kelly had given up any hope of seeing her daughter again, and she didn’t think she could go on without Laura.
If Kelly died, that would be one more score to settle with Los Lobos de la Noche... .
Tom wouldn’t let himself consider that possibility. Allowing Kelly to die was not an option. As soon as Bonnie was off the phone, he said, “Go in the bathroom and turn on the shower. Cold water.”
Bonnie hurried to do so. Tom followed her, hauling Kelly’s seemingly boneless form with him. When Bonnie had the cold water blasting in the shower, Tom stepped under the frigid stream fully clothed and dragged Kelly with him. She jerked and gasped as the icy barrage struck her. Tom turned so that the water hit her in the face. She shook her head, trying to escape it. He moved back a little so she could breathe. He didn’t want to save her from the suicide attempt only to turn around and drown her.
“The paramedics are on their way!” Bonnie called over the rushing noise of the shower. Tom saw the FBI agent standing in the bathroom doorway, drawn by the commotion. He looked confused and uncertain about what to do.
Tom stayed in the shower with Kelly, holding her up because she was still only semiconscious. After long minutes that seemed even longer, a team of paramedics rushed into the room and took over, lifting Kelly out of Tom’s arms and placing her carefully on the rug. One of the EMTs told Tom and Bonnie and the FBI agent to step out of the bathroom and give them space to work.
Tom grabbed a towel on his way out and used it to dry his face and hair. Then he put it down on the kitchen floor and stood on it so that it would catch the water dripping from his soaked clothing.
Bonnie threw her arms around him and hugged him hard, ignoring the fact that she was getting wet, too. “Oh, Tom,” she said, her voice breaking, “When I saw that pill bottle and she wouldn’t wake up, I just knew she was dead.”
“I think we got to her in time. She was trying to come out of it. She must not have taken the other pills until later in the night, or even sometime this morning.”
“If you hadn’t done what you did ...”
“And if you hadn’t found her,” Tom said. “If she pulls through, she’s got you to thank as much as me.”
The FBI tech came into the kitchen and asked, “Is there, uh, anything I can do for you folks?”
Tom shook his head. “Does Agent Morgan know what happened here this morning?”
“Yeah, I thought she should know, so I just called her.”
“Good. She needs to know what can happen when people give up hope.”
The agent didn’t know what to say to that, so he just shrugged and moved back into the den.
Bonnie said, “Lord, we both need some dry clothes. Why don’t you go to the spare bedroom and change, Tom?”
“All right, but come and get me if the paramedics have any news.”
Every bedroom in the house had its own bathroom. Tom peeled off his sodden clothes and dropped them in the shower, then dried off some more and pulled on clean underwear and socks, along with jeans and a khaki shirt. As he started back toward the kitchen, the paramedics emerged from Kelly’s room. They had her strapped onto a stretcher now. She was pale and disheveled, but she was conscious. Bonnie hurried from the kitchen and caught hold of Kelly’s hand, holding it as the men carried the stretcher through the house toward the front door.
The paramedic who wasn’t carrying the stretcher said to Tom, “Her vital signs are stable.” He shook his head. “Good thing you folks didn’t wait another hour or two before checking on her this morning, though.”
“You’re taking her to the hospital?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, she’ll need to stay there at least one night for observation. That’s pretty much standard procedure in a case like this.”
Standard procedure for an attempted suicide, that was what he meant, Tom thought.
He followed the third paramedic out of the house and watched the others load Kelly into the ambulance. Bonnie hovered nearby anxiously, and when the EMTs were ready to go, she asked, “Can I ride along with her?”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the men tol
d her.
“Tom, get some dry clothes for me and follow us to the hospital.”
He nodded, more than willing to do as Bonnie said in this instance. He still had some time before he was supposed to go to the private hospital on the outskirts of Laredo and meet with Brady Keller. As the ambulance pulled away, its lights flashing, Tom went back in the house to gather up a fresh outfit for Bonnie.
By the time he got to the hospital, Kelly was already in a bed in the emergency room, and Bonnie was waiting just outside in the lobby. Tom handed her the overnight bag he had brought with him. She said, “Thanks,” and headed for the bathroom to change.
When she came back, Tom asked her, “Did Kelly make the trip over here all right?”
Bonnie nodded. “The paramedics all seemed to think she would be all right. They pumped her stomach and she’s awake enough to be crying and apologizing.” She sank wearily onto one of the plastic chairs, and Tom sat in the one beside her. “I just can’t believe that she would do such a thing. It ... it’s just not like Kelly at all. She’s always been strong. She’s been able to raise Laura by herself for the past few years, and she’s carried on with her career... .”
“You never know what’s going to push somebody over the edge,” Tom said. “Maybe Kelly just couldn’t stand the thought of losing anybody else.” Which was another good reason for Bonnie to stay right here in Laredo, he thought, instead of trying to come along when he and the others made their rescue attempt. Although he experienced a guilty twinge for feeling that way, he knew that in a way Kelly’s suicide attempt was a good thing. Looking after her would keep Bonnie busy.
He kept those musings to himself and sat there quietly with his wife. About twenty minutes later, a Hispanic woman in scrubs came out of the ER and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Brannon? I’m Dr. DeZavala. Mrs. Simms is doing fine.”
Bonnie and Tom had both come to their feet as the doctor introduced herself. Now Bonnie sagged slightly against Tom and said, “Oh, thank God.”
“She’ll be groggy and a little nauseous for the rest of the day, and we’ll keep her overnight just to make sure she’s all right.” Dr. DeZavala hesitated. “Of course, in cases such as these, it’s often wise to extend that hospital stay for a short time.”
Invasion Usa: Border War Page 15