“Up there, on the near rise,” an agent whispered. “Might be a head by the biggest bush.”
Lenny pointed his gun at the ridge and squinted through the scope of his M4 Carbine. “Got him. Want me to shoot?”
“Negative. Let the SWAT guys go after him,” Steve said, as three agents crept towards the hill. “I want this persistent spy taken into custody. Damn he moved and is gone down the far side of the slope. Let’s climb into the van from this side. Ivy, drive to the front door and position us to shield the pathway to the limo. Point the nose of the van towards the driveway.
“Mathew, have the other agents form a line on the far side from the front door to the Fuentes’ limo. The four of them can run hunched over, jump in and flatten down on the seat.” He nodded at Mathew, indicating he should take over.
Mathew spoke with firmness into his headset, “When I say so, exit in safe mode. Moll, get in first. Be ready to sprint out of the house and when the car is loaded, race out of here. We’ll be right behind you. Brian, you run with Cruze and Julio. Whoever is last out of the house, lock the door when you are in the exterior entryway.”
In the van, Steve sat by Ivy’s side. Even with the bulletproof glass, he pulled her down to make her less of a target from any shooting. Two minutes later, Moll sprinted for the driver’s seat in the limo with an agent at his shoulder. Behind him, the evacuation of the house went smooth and fast with Brian running next to Julio and helping him and Cruze into the car before jumping in with them.
Moll sped away from the house, down the bumpy gravel and dirt track. At the end he hooked a sharp right and zoomed along to pick up the main road leading to U.S. 85 south to Albuquerque. Staying half scrunched down in her seat, Ivy shadowed him. No shots split the air. By phone Mathew confirmed with the leader to have half the team stay to explore the expanse around the house and the other half to be right behind them for protection en route and at the hotel.
“So far so good,” Steve said. He slid over to the passenger side while keeping his hand on Ivy’s shoulder, ready to jerk her away from any peril and take over the driving.
Mathew missed having Callie with him, but after now seeing what was likely Gerkasky at both sites, he agreed with Steve on the likelihood of an attack the next day. Some gang or other or hired sharpshooters would be at the Albuquerque cemetery the next morning to silence the Fuentes and perhaps the rest of them. He was glad Callie was safely in Oregon.
As they drove, Ivy asked, “Why are we going ahead as planned tomorrow? Shouldn’t we just let the local FBI office setup a trap for whoever arrives? Aren’t we endangering Julio and Cruze too much?”
Steve turned in his seat and looked at Mathew. “We need to flush out whoever is after them, or we guarantee that they will continue to be followed. Julio and Cruze have agreed to this plan. They know the risks. They accept them. We will do our best to make sure they do not fall into the wrong hands.”
“But they could be killed. Any of us could be killed. Aren’t you endangering yourselves, Brian and Moll way too much?”
Steve reached over and pressed Ivy’s shoulder. “We have a plan. Or I should say Mathew has a plan. This is his operation. Don’t you think we have considered the options?”
“So Julio and Cruze will be bait?”
“Yes and no. Julio and Cruze trust us. They would rather die than face prison. They want to live the rest of their lives knowing they have paid a debt and moved to right side of the law.”
Ivy squared her shoulders in that determined way she had. “Even if it means they could die tomorrow.”
“Julio and Cruze are choosing death over imprisonment and if they must die, they want it to be with our agreement in place so they can feel a sense of atonement.”
“They must have lots of faith in the two of you. Any chance they could be devising their own setup for tomorrow to revenge the deaths of Cristo and Eduardo?”
“Not impossible, but I believe they have placed their confidence in the four of us in this car,” Mathew said. “They rely on Brian and Moll. As you have said, they are not all bad. Ask them directly at the hotel.”
Ivy relaxed her shoulders and nodded.
Chapter 32
At the hotel, Julio noted they had taken over one wing of the upper floor. Agents patrolled the corridor, stairwells and lobby. Once settled in their suite, Mathew came by to hand Cruze the album of photographs from his family. Tears of gratitude welled up in his eyes. Having this compendium of his brothers, his parents and his childhood raised Cruze’s spirits like waves lifting a buoy.
After opening a bottle of wine, Cruze and Julio sat side-by-side on the couch to go over the pictures. The compilation of their young lives remained as Cruze recollected. Each snapshot they pulled out had handwritten annotations from Cruze’s mother. Since Julio had not seen them in many years, they meandered through unhurriedly, a page at a time. He marveled at each grouping and pulled some out to read the text. On reaching the ones of Annetta right before her 16th birthday, Julio stared at them for several minutes.
“I’ll never forget your long hair,” Cruze said. “I remember how the curves of it cascaded around your shoulders. The style never wilted or became blown into disarray. You should grow your hair out again.”
Julio shook his head and sighed. “Longer than it is now, but I doubt long. I will try to morph into Annetta as a woman, but I can never again be Annetta at 15. Oh Cruze, such deep pain we have experienced, with more to come.”
“Tomorrow will be the end of this version of you and me, either by death or by slipping away into our futures,” Cruze said. “Are you sure you want to come with me? If I must die now, at least I will be where Cristo and Eduardo are, but you can leave now and be free.”
“You think this FBI dropout isn’t flying solo?”
“I agree with Mathew and Steve – he is either acting for the DEA or for someone in our past who wants to silence us or even double-dealing with both. In the first instance, we will be captured or killed. Otherwise we will be executed.”
“No reservations about the agents we know?” Julio asked.
“The big guy, Nielsen, still worries me a little. I am also anxious an ambitious agent might sneak around to gain notches in his belt for killing us.”
“I think we can rely on the four former agents,” Julio said. “Mathew is so kind to stick with us, even when he is injured and in such discomfort. I pray he does not suffer more on our behalf.”
Cruze nodded and said, “They show strong bonds of commitment to each other. Now those bonds seem to extend to us. They mystify me, and they show me how different life can be. My father tried to instill better values in us. By example he attempted to show us that honest hard work had its rewards, if limited in the more material ways.”
Cruze stopped to drink some of the red wine he had opened. “If only my brothers and I had bothered to look for other pathways to achieve their goals of wealth and independence, we one day could be settling into retirement together. However they were visionless about the possibilities in legal ventures. I tagged along, fearful of taking an independent stance until too late. I can blame no one but myself. I was too weak back then to defy them. Regrets aside, in no more than twelve hours our fates will be absolute.”
That night Julio was so caught up in the memories the photo album evoked that sleep eluded him. He sat up in bed and crept out to pick up the binder of photos again. Cruze snoozed in the other room with a troubled expression. Julio stood in silence regarding him. Even though growing up Cristo had been his favored brother, over the years Julio had come to see Cristo as all one-dimensional bravado with a perspective of life centering on him and what he wanted. Cristo only bowed to the more intelligent and calculating Eduardo.
In these last weeks Julio realized how much he cared for Cruze. In the past he had hovered behind his brother, but he contained more depth as a man than Cristo. That made Julio pleased that Cruze was the brother who survived. Cristo and Eduardo would never have garnered the discipline or g
ood judgment to walk away from the international netherworld.
Julio glided out of the room, closed the door and tiptoed over to sit up in bed. The prospect of dying the next day did not scare him. Life was harder now that he stopped existing in the moment. Instead thoughts of the person he might have been flitted in and out of his mind. At least part of Annetta might escape into reality. The sliver of optimism frightened him. Life as Julio meant Annetta protected herself from the world and from the dreaded memories of her adolescence.
If he lived after the next morning, Julio would revert to Annetta and Annetta was no longer a sixteen-year-old abused teenager. She was a grown woman only sketchily defined. Would she be diagnosed as suffering from schizophrenia, called today dissociative identity disorder? Julio had read a good deal about the psychological malady.
For many years, she had controlled Julio and when she changed into him. She created the Julio persona in a planned way. She retained full awareness of playing a part as Julio. Even though her masquerade extended over many years, inside she had always recognized herself as Annetta.
Now she found herself frequently shifting out of her role as Julio into Annetta in a manner that suggested that Julio was disappearing from her psyche. Even here by herself, sometimes Julio dominated and sometimes Annetta stepped forward. The waffling between the two personas, the made-up and the real, was dizzying and not supportable for long.
Julio leafed through the pictures again, slipped out the DVD in the back and put it into his slim laptop, copying the contents over. Those snapshots linked the FBI to his youth as Annetta, and the FBI probably kept copies. How many of his wrongdoings over the years were recorded on their books and how many of his crimes would the FBI discover from the remaining names they would turn over?
The list Julio assembled with Cruze was now on the laptop’s hard disk, with each criminal’s entry annotated with known crimes, locations of their operations and other information. A copy was on a thumb drive in his slim attaché, ready to be turned over in the morning when the agreement was signed.
His thoughts wavered, and he could feel Annetta stepping forward with determination, but not without trepidation. Each of the four men and the two women seemed like friends. Even Steve did not alarm her. Since the night in the London hospital, she realized he had made a choice, and he would stand by it.
The three younger men each entranced her. Never had she been exposed to men like them. She requested ongoing contact with them because a part of her refused to let go of their benevolence, which glowed like a pale green flame in her heart, giving her hope. For the inspiring light to be extinguished now would be too hard. Mathew drew her to him with his kindness and integrity. She wondered if the big agent, who personified toughness and yet had let her go in London, sensed her need to cling to that goodness.
Annetta leaned back on the pillows, letting her eyelids drift down over her eyes and Brian so slender and handsome, yet still masculine, wafted before her. Sprigs of silver graced his temples, giving him the added attraction of maturity. She remembered the soft impression of his hand on her arm or her back as he guided her downstairs or into cars. His touch radiated warmth and assurance without any alarms of aggression, making her tingle in places she worked hard to shut down inside her body. Even though hopeless to think about him, she savored her moments with Brian. For a man like him, would she be willing to address her deep inner problems? This fascination for Brian enticed her into new territory, making her both glad and sad to never see him again after the next day, whether by death or by stepping into a new life.
She put the heavy volume of photos aside, turned off the light and willed herself to doze. She never slept deeply, not since she was a small child. She had learned to float in a space below consciousness where a part of her always listened, staying on guard and ready to bolt. Avoidance and flight continued as her preferred weapons. Going through this transition where she depended on others, from Cruze to the agents, formed a new experience for her and she fought all her instincts and habits to get through the days. The dependency carried an upside, letting her feel sheltered and even valued.
After their meal with Mathew, back in their room Steve took out his gun, inspected the cartridge, set out additional ammunition and pulled out a second pistol. He examined a new casing and took out a little roll of red tape. He put a bit of the red tape on the cartridge and another on the base of the second revolver, loaded it, tested the grip and put the new piece in his shoulder harness, leaving his regular gun lying next to his briefcase.
“Extra firepower?” Ivy asked.
“Yeah, new model I want to try out. Worked well at the firing range this afternoon,” Steve said as he reached over to touch the handle of the new pistol.
Ivy noticed his concerned countenance which told her a scenario might be anticipated for the next morning that was making Steve apprehensive. By now Ivy knew Steve well enough not to pepper him with questions, but she relied on him to tell her as much as he deemed possible
“Why don’t you get a hot shower?” Ivy asked. “Mine did me a world of good before dinner.”
“Good idea. We need to get to bed early and be out early. You order any breakfast?”
“4:30 a.m. private conference room downstairs.”
“Good. We’re picking up an armored assault vehicle that Mathew and I will take in. You’ll be a block or so away with Lenny. Talked him into serving as an ambulance driver. I want you close by, but not in the line of fire.”
“But . . .”
“No buts, Ivy. This is the plan,” Steve said. His face had taken on the cold agent’s stare he could get that told her not to argue.
While not happy to be away from Steve for this last sting, Ivy knew by now to follow his instructions. Although uneasy for his safety, she also understood that he would not endanger himself more than was necessary. Earlier in his life he might have, but not since they became a couple.
They slid into bed around nine. A gentle stillness hung around them, as Steve took her in his arms and held her.
“Do you trust me?” Steve asked in a low voice.
“With my heart and with my life,” Ivy replied in a firm, though soft tone.
He pulled her tighter and whispered. “Remember your words in the morning. We may hit a time when you might question your faith in me. Keep in mind that I am Steve and you love me.”
She pulled back to stare at him in the darkened room.
“Tell me,” Ivy said.
“Uneasy about how the last stop will proceed. Just hold me. The events of recent weeks are crowding into my brain – from the shootings at Spook Hills and in London, worries we could lose Lenny or Mathew, that day you were abducted, never hearing whether Jeremy is my son or not and now a likely volatile and dangerous situation tomorrow. Guess I am a little old for this field agent stuff. Hold me while my brain sorts itself out. Running low on sleep isn’t helping.”
Ivy held him close for a couple of minutes. Feeling how tense Steve remained, she rolled him over on his back, and crawled on top of him, stretching out her full height and caressing his shoulders. She floated down, kissing his chest, gliding her tongue along his midriff and letting her breath rouse the shy skin near his groin. Her lips ran down, finding the root of him to tease him into the fullness she craved.
They made love as they did the first time two years before, with her pushing herself back up and straddling him. Even though Steve enjoyed whatever she wanted, this way of making love tended to be his favorite, where they watched and touched each other. Ivy circled her hands over his chest swaying her hips to intensify the sensation. Their closeness so fulfilled each of them that they often coasted along like this, enjoying each other where an hour could go by as quickly as a few minutes.
Steve propped himself up on an elbow, then began moving one hand smoothly along her thigh until he reached her warm center. In a delicate motion, he played three fingers one after the other to bring her into a higher state of arousal before quick
ening his tantalizing stroking until she arched her back, flung back her head and threw herself forward, thrilling in her first orgasm.
Believe in this man who would give his life for hers, who brought so much richness into her existence and who with a glance could make her want to climb into bed with him? Of course she placed her full confidence in him. If she had never met Steve, she would not be wrapped in this cocoon of love they shared, which went beyond the physical, delving deep into their emotions and uniting them in spirit.
She altered position, leaning down over his chest and wrapping her arms under his as he sank back against the pillows. She wanted her second climax to coincide with his hoping that this sense of togetherness would stay with Steve the next day.
Callie lay awake in her room on the other side of the hotel in Albuquerque. After arriving home the preceding night, she continued to brood over leaving Mathew. She heard from her attorney that the divorce papers had gone before the judge for the final decree that day. Included was the agreement that if anything happened to her, custody for Susannah would transfer to Rick and Sassy. Callie was pleased to hear that the Judge had signed the papers.
Around midnight Susannah knocked lightly on her door and came into the room, sliding into bed next to her.
“What is it Bumblebee? Can’t sleep?” Callie asked Susannah.
“You should be with Mathew,” Susannah said in an accusing tone. “How could you come home? Mathew is wounded. He needs you.”
Callie sighed and held her daughter’s hand. “Mathew is a trained FBI agent. He has Steve, Ivy and Lenny with him, not to mention a bunch of agents out of the Albuquerque office. I have no way to protect him. Susannah, my place is here with you. This is where Mathew wants me to be.”
“I have Uncle Rick, Aunt Sassy and those FBI agents, plus Fred, Federico and Terry.”
“Not to mention Druid, Firewire, and the three dogs,” Callie said teasingly.
New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) Page 29