“That’s what I mean. I will be okay. You need to be with Mathew. He rescued me. Now he might need rescuing. If you don't go back to be with him, I’ll go.”
Callie regarded her daughter as she thought again about Mathew and her uncertainty about where she should be. She now understood that Susannah too had developed feelings for Mathew. Whether it was a childhood crush or a search for a father figure to replace her real father, Callie was unsure. Likely it was a little of both at her daughter’s age.
Callie pulled the covers up around Susannah and smoothed back her hair, “You get some sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“You’ll think about it?” Susannah said, as her eyes grew heavy in that way children could nod off to sleep as soon as they unloaded their troubles.
“I’ll think of nothing else,” Callie promised as she snuggled down next to Susannah. She leaned over to give her a second goodnight kiss, then lay on her back with her eyes open for at least an hour, knowing she should stay with Susannah and yet her heart pulled her towards Albuquerque. When she finally drifted off, images of Mathew kept coming to her – Mathew in the silly Glögg apron, Mathew's eyes lit up with amusement, Mathew unconscious in the London Hospital, Mathew walking in with Susannah after the kidnapping . . .
When she woke the next morning, the answer was clear. She would fly to New Mexico that day, check into a hotel and then slip out very early to wait near the cemetery. After considering the united front of Callie and Susannah in front of him, Uncle Rick spent time on his PC setting up the travel and printing out directions.
Callie remembered the name of the cemetery where the Fuentes bodies were interred, and she had the name of the hotel where Mathew was staying. If she could catch Ivy alone, she might approach her. Ivy would understand why she returned.
If all went well, Callie could be back in Portland the next evening. Otherwise she would be in Albuquerque if Mathew, Steve or Ivy were injured. She did not allow herself to think that one of them could die. Although worried about her safety, Rick and Sassy supported her decision.
Once in Albuquerque, Callie rented a car and then bought some pepper spray and a heavy flashlight to have some form of protection. She set her alarm for 3 a.m., wanting to be out of the hotel and parked near the cemetery before Mathew or any of her friends were out and about. She would not go near the action, but when it was over she wanted to be there to help Mathew and the others.
Chapter 33
Early in the morning, Steve and Mathew picked up a rugged black assault vehicle. From the FBI offices Ivy headed off with Lenny in an ambulance to be positioned near the cemetery, ready to race in if needed. Mathew was relying on her to keep Lenny in the ambulance and away from any firefight. Ivy was not sure that Mathew should be out in the cemetery, but this was his operation to run, with Steve at the ready to steer him right and to protect him. She had to respect their collective judgements.
Lenny cruised past the cemetery, noting the entrance that would get them closest to the Fuentes graves. Ivy watched Steve in the assault vehicle as he maneuvered down the gravel roadway. Then Lenny turned into a nearby side street and parked in front of a red Toyota. He positioned the ambulance with its nose out, turned off the motor and waited for a signal. He had a headset on and would be in contact with Mathew and Steve on a shortwave connection as well as a cell phone. Lenny and Ivy settled in to wait until dawn, sipping coffee the hotel had supplied.
A soft knock on her window made Ivy jump in her seat. She swung her head to look out, her hand automatically going for her gun. Lenny already had his out and pointed at the window. Outside in the soft streetlight, she could see that it was Callie. Lenny lowered his weapon.
After rolling down the window, Ivy said, “Callie! What are you doing here?”
“Worrying. Let me stay with you.”
“How did you know how to find us?”
“Luck. That’s my rental car you parked in front of. I had to flop over the console so you wouldn’t see me.”
Ivy peered over at Lenny.
He sat shaking his head, then he said, “Man oh man, Mathew and Steve are going to be pissed no matter what we do. If she is here, better to have her with us where we can protect her.”
“Quick Callie,” Ivy said, opening the door and sliding over by the center console, “scrunch in next to me.”
Lenny went to call Mathew, but Ivy stopped him. “Mathew has enough on his mind right now. We’ll take care of Callie.”
Over in the cemetery, Steve maneuvered the armored vehicle into the spot selected from Google Earth maps – a slight rise where the land headed to the mountains. Finding places to station themselves at the Albuquerque cemetery proved harder than in Florida since the only section with large headstones sat far from the Fuentes graves where only flat stone markers with numbers identified each body.
Steve and Mathew got warily out to scout out the brothers’ gravesites. They found them where they lay in parallel graves under the soil as if unremembered. After finding the graves and surveying the area, they moved back to the assault vehicle some distance away. Mathew and Steve positioned themselves outside at the back corners of the vehicle, just out of sight. They considered staying in the armored SUV but felt it their duty to be more mobile in case the Fuentes required additional protection.
From where they stood, they could cover the gravesites in front of them. The ninjas, as they called fully-equipped SWAT agents, arrived in separate vehicles and searched for vantage points, with some scaling up into the half-grown trees planted along the walkways and in the plots.
The pre-dawn light skidding along the horizon turned the sky a dark violet, showing long slate clouds down low. Sunrise would be swift once the sun graced the vista, making a glow of pink magnificence. Mathew’s cell vibrated in his pocket, and he answered it, expecting to hear from Brian or Moll. Instead his friend from the New York office called.
“Something you might want to know. I mean not like you are on a case,” his friend said.
“Not me, I’m done with case work,” Mathew said into the phone.
“Yeah right,” his friend said. “I’m aware you and your cohorts, including Nielsen, consult back to us. I found out Gerkasky is on a job for the DEA out in New Mexico. A squad was flown in stealth mode from D.C. for an op this morning. The DEA leader is the fellow you worked with that Fuentes case where the drug lords kept sending actors out to impersonate them. Remember him?”
“Yeah, that fool twice led us into setups.”
“I understand the DEA leader is still pissed about being cut out of the big bust at the Fuentes place you did last November. He has been out to prove himself ever since. He’s not a bad guy, but he went a bit berserk when he got passed over for promotion this year.”
“Any more details you can give me? Number of personnel sent out, location?” Mathew asked.
“Nothing more. Happened to be talking to a guy in Logistics this morning. Nothing in the files I can access.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you on this one.”
“Call to tell me how this op you’re not on turns out.”
Ducking back behind the assault vehicle, Mathew walked over to Steve and said. “Got a call from my buddy in New York. We will have company. The Warthog and a DEA force out of DC are on their way, headed by the clown we dealt with last year in the Fuentes case. Must be Scenario 13.13 for us.”
“Damn. Got to move closer.”
“Let’s drive this tank in. Everyone can see us anyway.”
“Got it,” Steve said.
“I’ll alert our guys.” Mathew switched back to his phone to call Brian and Moll and confirm arrangements. His last call went to Lenny to alert him to be ready to roll in and reminding him of the code signal.
The sun began lighting up the clouds in deep shades of magenta and amethyst, making Mathew realize how the universe continued in an uncaring way, while all their attention was centered on this one little locale. Today he would risk taking off h
is encumbering sling when moving into shooting position because he might need to make a few well-placed shots. He and Steve positioned themselves behind the vehicle’s fenders.
Across the flat open expanse of brown grass, figures moved towards them in the dim, dusky light.
“We’ve got intruders,” Mathew said into the headset.
“See them,” Steve replied. “Appear to be DEA. One heading your way in plain black clothes. Might be the Warthog.”
“Resembles him from what I can tell in this light. Three circling behind him. Crawling on the ground.”
“Got ‘em,” Steve said. “Be ready to move into place.”
The sun crested the skyline when the assault van transporting the Fuentes pulled up. Brian and Moll climbed out first wearing full FBI attack garb. Each of them flanked the Fuentes as they stepped out of the car to move to the graves.
Julio kept his face a mask of composure. Cruze scanned the scene, looking tense and ready to run. When Julio poked him in the side, he took out a pair of aviator sunglasses, put them on, and stood erect to prepare himself for whatever his fate might be.
The group walked across the turf in deliberate steps trying not to look fearful, but each alert and ready to move. Each of the Fuentes held red roses, perhaps to honor the violent deaths of Cristo and Eduardo.
They stopped at the foot of the flat graves of the dead brothers, each one standing with their heads bowed. Cruze sunk to his knees. Mathew could see that he was crying. Julio bent over and laid a rose on each grave, then stood up, rested a hand on Cruze’s shoulder and then appeared to be praying. After a few minutes, Julio helped Cruze to his feet. They stood side by side staring down at the graves.
“Mathew, three big SUVs are speeding in,” Ivy yelled into the microphone.
He twisted his head around to see the action and spoke into the mic, “Hostile intruders coming in fast. Code Red. Steve, Scenario 13.13. Do it now.”
Time slowed for Mathew. Steve stepped out from behind the assault vehicle to face the Fuentes. Brian and Moll stepped away from the cousins, moving back about three yards and drawing their weapons
The man thought to be the Warthog sprang into firing position, aiming at Cruze’s back. Steve raised his revolver, facing the Fuentes where they stood by the resting places of Cristo and Eduardo. Julio and Cruze each raised a pistol.
The Warthog shifted his aim to Steve. Mathew jumped out, and the Warthog swung rapidly, getting off a potshot at Mathew, hitting him on the left side of his chest. He reeled from the hard impact into his vest, rocked back, sucked in his gut and forced himself into his shooter’s posture.
"Everyone hold," Mathew said into the headset. In one rapid motion, Mathew blasted the Warthog in the right arm and then in the left leg, targeting to disable him. The man dropped his weapon, clutching his calf and curling up in pain.
Steve slid his eyes down to his gun with a quick glance at the handgrip. Mathew noticed that Lenny was already roaring in with the ambulance. He wasn’t supposed to arrive at the cemetery yet.
The Fuentes stared at Steve. Julio lifted his right hand holding his gun and slightly raising his index finger a little higher than the rest.
Cruze took aim at Steve and fired. The shot went a little wide to his right.
"Steve, now," Mathew said into the mic.
He watched Steve slide his eyes quickly from Julio to Cruze and back again, then Steve fired, hammering Julio in the chest and then Cruze in the same spot.
The Fuentes stood for only a moment as if stunned by death. Julio fell backward, clutched the front of his shirt and landed in an awkward sprawl. Cruze fell forward grabbing his jacket and sinking to his knees. He started to cross himself but keeled over face down before he could finish. Both the Fuentes lay still in front of Steve.
Mathew rushed forward to check Julio for signs of life. Steve ran to Cruze in a few long strides, placing his hand on his neck, testing for a pulse. He and Mathew gave each other curt nods.
For Mathew, time sped up again.
Suddenly from the ambulance, Callie ran out screaming, “What are you doing? How could you?”
“What the hell? Callie! Get down!” Mathew yelled and ran after her, grabbing her arms and hurling himself over her on the ground, wanting to shelter her from any further gunfire.
Callie squirmed under him, trying to break away. Mathew held her fast, wanting only to protect her.
Ivy leaped out, running to Steve’s side, her pistol drawn and taking in the spectacle in front of them. Steve threw himself over Ivy, falling to the ground with her away from Cruze.
A bunch of thugs hurtled out of the SUVs, gawking and drawing weapons. Ninjas and agents from the DEA and FBI began popping up all over, scampering down trees and heading for the SUVs, blasting out tires and surrounding the hooligans. All the attention moved away from the Fuentes to the shootout on the right.
Brian called for medical backup while running to stand in front of Steve and Ivy. Moll dashed over to take Mathew's place and flung himself over Callie.
Mathew scrambled back up to turn his attention to communications with the team led by the Albuquerque office, struggling to keep control over the situation. With their efforts not coordinated with the DEA, only the government-issued garb and SWAT gear kept the FBI and DEA agents from killing each other. Some of the gang went down. Others chucked out their weapons, standing with their hands up. The volley on the right stopped. Agents began disarming and handcuffing the thugs, herding them into a line near the cars.
Two ambulances screeched up. Steve waved them over to where he now stood with Ivy, brushing the dirt off her back. At least three of the goons and one agent suffered bullet wounds. Callie broke away from Moll when he helped her up and bent over Annetta where she lay motionless on her back, a large red stain soaking her tailored white shirt. Mathew pulled Callie away, calling Ivy over to her. He turned and directed one emergency truck to Gerkasky, where he was trying to stand. The other one he sent over to the injured men over on the right.
Mathew wanted the Fuentes bodies loaded up and taken away. He yelled into the microphone to mobilize Lenny, Brian and Moll. Just then, a man who he recognized as the DEA team leader from earlier in the Fuentes case jogged over.
“You got the missing brother,” the DEA agent said to Steve. “Who’s the other guy?”
Despite his discipline, Mathew noticed a slight reaction from Steve.
Steve said, “Accomplice. Dealt in information. Masqueraded on the circuit as Julio. Like Prince or Madonna, no last name.”
The DEA agent grunted. "We got a big score over there. Better get back."
"Good job in messy circumstances. I'll be sure to write a particular account of your excellent performance in my report. One word of advice," he said, nodding over at Gerkasky. "While I was impressed by your astuteness in how you managed a guy working both sides, you should pick your associates with more care next time."
The agent followed Steve’s gaze to the wounded Gerkasky. For a moment he looked stunned as the words sunk in, then he said, "Understand. I’ll go over his financials to find proof of his duplicity.
He turned to walk away and then turned back to Steve and said, “Think you might give my boss a call on how my team performed?”
Steve nodded, “Sure. You all did more than a respectable job, and you were exemplary in how you set this up.”
Energized by the unexpected praise, the DEA leader sprinted back to where the gang members were getting handcuffed. Steve sagged, seeming much older than a few minutes before in the powerful stance of his shooting posture.
Ivy pulled Callie away and held her, standing to one side, both women horrified. Ivy was pale but stalwart with an arm around Callie, who was crying and shaking. Mathew wanted to go over and take her in his arms. To Callie and Ivy, he and Steve must appear to be antiheroes.
Mathew accepted that he carried the responsibiity for what happened here today. He owned this operation. He had devised this plan with Cruze during
their conversation on the plane as they flew to Miami from London. Neither of the Fuentes could stand imprisonment. Ivy stared over at Steve. A dawning of comprehension came on her face. She leaned over to whisper to Callie. Even when the two women came to understand what happened today, would either of them fully trust him or Steve again? Why did Callie have to come back to witness this horror?
The ambulance with the Warthog started moving out of the cemetery, abandoning all reverence for the dead by turning on its lights and siren. Brian and Moll loaded up the two Fuentes, scrunching their thin frames on to one stretcher and loading them into Lenny’s unit. Brian stroked Julio’s cheek before easing back into the medic's seat, his face both stressed and sad. Moll closed the rear doors, peered around, put up two fingers in a peace sign and pulled himself into the passenger seat, riding with his door cocked open and his foot dangling out on the running board. With Lenny driving, the emergency truck carrying the Fuentes trundled out to the road, pulling over to let three other medical vans fly in.
“Ivy, take that assault tank and drive Callie out of here. Stay at the FBI offices. We’ll join you when we can,” Mathew said, the words coming out in a harsher tone than he meant. Hearing his voice, which sounded so like Steve’s, he realized the harshness came from the responsibility he carried on this operation. Steve had built up his abrasive, cold exterior to project toughness to the world, as well as to protect himself. For the first time, Mathew appreciated the weightiness of this degree of obligation.
Ivy regarded Steve with an anxious expression. He stared back at her, his eyes changing from their hard coldness as an FBI agent to those of a man pleading for the indulgence of forgiveness. Her face softened, and she nodded. Then Ivy turned to help a dazed Callie into the passenger seat, buckling her in and shutting the door. Walking to the driver’s side, she turned to scrutinize them for a long moment, pulled herself into the seat and prepared to drive out. Trying not to look intimated by the threatening gear in the assault vehicle, Ivy started it up and slowly drove away.
New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) Page 30