by CL Hart
A short time later, the pickup truck was bouncing up a dusty road. Cresting a small rise, Kenzie spotted a little Cessna, their ticket to Tijuana. It was old and patched together, but it had two wings, and that was enough. As they approached, she saw what was an almost non-existent runway - a hard packed road cut through the rocky, barren landscape. The pickup truck slowed to stop and Cori was out of the passenger seat and around to the bed of the truck before the dust they had created caught up to them.
"Are you okay?"
"I think so," Kenzie said as she moved slowly to her feet. Climbing from the bed of the truck, she looked Cori over. "Are you okay?"
Cori nodded, afraid that her voice would reveal that she was still shaking. "That was close," she said as Kenzie traced the bullet holes. Cori moved in next to her. "Who was that?"
Kenzie shifted her gaze to watch Fernando prep the plane. "I don't know his real name, just his call sign - they call him Cobra."
"So you've worked with him?"
"In a manner of speaking. He's an idiot and an asshole, but he's more than competent at what he does. Come on. Let's get out of here before he finds us again."
Walking toward the plane, Cori paused and looked back at the pickup. "How did he find us?"
"That's something I'd give a lot to know. However, we don't have the time or the ammunition to sit around and wait for him to show up so we can ask him."
Cobra's wound was only superficial, but it still hurt like hell. The locals surely would have called the cops by now and they'd be looking for him. He had no plans to stick around and answer any questions, besides he still had a job to do.
The town was in chaos. People were running about, talking excitedly amongst themselves as they cleaned up the aftermath. No one stopped him as he shoved himself into his stifling hot car. Pulling away from the curb, he put his hand into his shirt to check the extent of the damage. He noted the blood on his fingers with disdain. "You're going to pay for that, you bitch."
Driving as fast as he dared, Cobra followed the road his quarry had left on, out of town and up the winding hill. Once clear of Santa Rosalia, he reached under the seat and pulled out his satellite phone. He dialed a number and then placed the phone against his shoulder as he reached for his Blackberry.
"It's Cobra."
"This better be good news."
Cobra looked down at the Blackberry on the seat beside him "It's not."
"What went wrong this time?"
"She got away."
Manuck cursed loudly. "How?"
"She got lucky. By the looks of it, some local is helping her."
"This woman has more lives than a cat!"
Cobra sighed loudly. "Well, don't worry, because I'm right behind her."
"Don't tell me not to worry. If she gets back to the States, we're all going to have a problem. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal." Cobra turned off the highway onto the bumpy dusty road. The fine dust in the air and fresh tire tracks disturbing the soil kept him on their trail. "I'm right behind her...or rather them. Their dust is pretty easy to follow out here."
Manuck leaned forward in his seat. "Them?"
"Yeah, she's not alone."
"Some local you said."
"Worse - or better, depending how you look at it."
"You're kidding! They're together?" Manuck mulled over the information. It was an interesting turn of events. However, it was not necessarily bad news. "Fine, if they're together, then get them both. If everyone had done their jobs right to begin with, they would both be dead right now anyhow. So if they're together, kill them both!"
Only half listening, Cobra slowed his car as a plume of dust rose above the distant hill. The roar of a plane drowned out the sound of Manuck's ranting. Cobra's shoulders slumped in defeat as the little Cessna flew right over him. "Yeah, they're together," he said reluctantly as his car rolled to a stop. Climbing from the car, he shielded his eyes from the sun as he watched the plane climb in altitude. "Colonel..." He attempted to interrupt, but Manuck was not listening. "Colonel...Colonel Manuck."
"What!"
"They're gone, I've missed them."
"What do you mean, missed them?"
"They're gone." Cobra seethed in anger and frustration as the aircraft grew smaller and smaller against the sky. "They just flew over my head in a small plane." The Cessna ascended out and over the Sea of Cortez, then banked hard to the left, heading north. "And Colonel, they're heading in your direction."
Chapter 10
Kenzie rested her head against the cool plastic window, but the vibration was more than her pounding head could handle. Where had Cobra come from? How did he find us? The thought unnerved her more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. The only phone call she'd made had been to Big Polly. But Cori used a phone in Mazatldn to call her mother! And she used the phone on Manny's boat... Kenzie turned to look at Cori. No way! She didn't want to pursue the questions churning in her mind, but she couldn't help it. It's possible! At this point anything seemed possible. But if she called someone...who did she call?
Cori saw the change in Kenzie's expression and she leaned across the seat. "You okay?"
Kenzie nodded. Who did she call in Mazatldn? Her mother, she said...what if her mother's line was tapped...or maybe she didn't call her mother at all...maybe she called someone else. She refused to follow that line of thought any further. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, almost thankful that the aching in her body kept disrupting her thoughts. Thank God for Big Polly, she sighed. He was going to save her butt once again.
Big Polly had gotten part of his name honestly. He was big, close to seven foot, but no one knew whether or not his name was really Polly, and no one dared to ask. He was Samoan, but he grew up on the big island of Hawaii. The rumor was that he had left the Polynesian Islands due to some questionable business dealings during his stint in the military, though he always insisted that he left for greener financial pastures. Which was the truth? No one knew and no one asked. His charismatic and friendly nature eclipsed his intimidating size. People were drawn to him and he knowingly used that to further his venture capital. If someone needed something, anything, legal or illegal, Big Polly was their man. He was an arranger, a mover and a shaker, and he made things happen without making noise. Many different types of people used his services, but Kenzie knew he really made his money on his dealings with those who paid under the table to have things done, no questions asked.
Her call to him from Santa Rosalia had been short and to the point. He had offered his services without question. It didn't surprise her that Big Polly had not hesitated, even when she told him they were coming in hot. He promised to have someone there to meet the plane. She had faith that he would have whatever she needed to get her and Cori across the border. To her way of thinking, once she and Cori were safely on her boat, she would be able to find the answers to the questions constantly tugging at her mind. She sighed heavily and tried to relax.
Kenzie's sigh caught Cori's attention. With a concerned eye, she let her gaze travel over Kenzie's new clothes. They were now torn and soiled from her ride in the back of the truck. She was holding her right shoulder awkwardly, which told Cori it was still sore. It was then that she noticed blood on Kenzie's side.
Without thinking, Cori reached for the edge of Kenzie's shirt. The moment the material moved, Kenzie's hand darted out, grabbing Cori's wrist. Kenzie's lightning fast reflexes caught her by surprise and she tried to withdraw her hand, but Kenzie's grip was unrelenting.
Seeing the fear on Cori's face, Kenzie's icy stare melted into compassion. "Sorry," she said above the loud rumbling of the plane's engine as Cori rubbed her wrist. "Reflex."
Having already seen some of Kenzie's reflexes, Cori didn't want to witness any more, especially when her own health was at risk. "You're bleeding again," she said.
Kenzie shook her head, not hearing or understanding what Cori said.
Cori gestured toward her side, "You're bl
eeding!" she yelled over the engine noise.
Kenzie glanced down at her shirt and nodded with a shrug, "I know. It's okay. I'll look at it later."
"I'd like to look at it now." Cori kept her hands to herself, but fixed her eyes firmly on Kenzie. "Please."
Care and compassion were not things Kenzie was used to. If she was injured, the only thing that mattered was completing the mission. Oozing wounds and broken bones were no excuse for failure, and pain was only a reminder that she was still alive. Right now, a little bit of bleeding coming from the wound on her side was not even a blip on her overly crowded radar.
"Just let me look at it."
"When we land," Kenzie said as she leaned back and closed her eyes again.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"And what happens after we land? How are we getting across the border?"
Kenzie reluctantly opened her eyes and studied Cori's troubled face. The strain of all they had been through was clearly visible. Reaching down, she took the hand that she had just pushed away. "We'll be fine. I have a friend in Tijuana and he's gonna help us. Once we get to San Diego, I have a boat there, and access to a computer with a very high security clearance. We'll be safe there. It'll give us a chance to find some answers and regroup, then decide on the next step."
"I'm scared," Cori said unnecessarily. Kenzie could feel her whole body shaking through the tremors in her hand.
"It'll be okay," Kenzie said with confidence, even though she had her own doubts. "Come here."
Kenzie tugged her closer and Cori quickly accepted the offer, moving as close as her seatbelt would allow. Resting her head on Kenzie's shoulder, she was careful not to aggravate her wounded side. Leaning up, Cori pecked a kiss onto her cheek. "Thanks."
Kenzie smiled as Cori gently placed her head against her shoulder and closed her eyes.
There was not much more that Kenzie could do, so she leaned back in her seat and looked out the window at the desert and the ocean beyond. What are you going to do now, Kenzie? The question was without answers and she felt her own anxiety rising. She knew she needed to get to her computer. Somewhere out there, in the vast world of electronic information, were the answers. The steady buzz of the plane's engine lulled her into an exhausted sleep as one other question stuck in her mind: was either of Cori's phone calls, supposedly to her mom, the reason Cobra found us in Santa Rosalia?
True to his word, Big Polly had a car and driver waiting for them at the dusty airstrip on the outskirts of Tijuana. Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up in front of a small bar on one of the broken down back streets of the bustling border town. Built from brick and cinderblocks, its large arched windows were darkened to keep the daylight from shining on the shadowy figures within.
Crawling from the car, Cori squinted into the bright light as she took in their surroundings. The street in front of the bar was void of cars, its paved surface aged and broken. The wide sidewalks, dotted by well-worn power poles, were a mix of concrete, cobblestone, and broken asphalt. The businesses along the street were a jumbled blend of newer buildings and those with older, more flavorful craftsmanship. Regardless, it was the cleanliness of the old town that surprised Cori. It looked like everyone had gotten up early just to sweep off the sidewalks and roads.
Turning her attention back to the bar, Cori read the name scrawled in red neon just above the door - Tequila Sheila's. "Who is Sheila?" Cori asked Kenzie as she and the driver climbed from the car. No one answered her, but she hadn't expected them to. Not a single word had been exchanged among them since they landed. Looking over the building, Cori could not tell whether the bar was old, or if it was designed to look as if it were.
Walking up the steps into the front entrance of the bar, Cori glanced over and across the street. To her surprise, a police station was located just down the block. Numerous marked cars were out on the street or parked haphazardly behind a dilapidated chain-link fence. Several uniformed officers were hanging out around the front doors - some standing, some sitting or leaning against their cars - but not one of them paid any attention to the arrival of the two women.
Cori gestured with her head in the direction of the police station, "There is another option."
Kenzie barely glanced over as she moved toward the front doors of Tequila Sheila's. "You want to put your life in their hands?"
Without a moment's consideration, Cori knew there was only one person she would trust with her life, and she hurried to catch up to her.
The driver opened the door, revealing the darkness inside the club, "Head on in. You know where to go." It was the first time he had spoken all afternoon. He stepped aside, holding the door open.
As Cori stepped forward, Kenzie put a hand on her waist and pulled her closer. "Stay behind me," she said in a low whisper. It was hard to see at first, and that made Kenzie nervous. She refused to move until her eyes adjusted.
Once again, Cori was witness to an instant transformation as Kenzie quickly assessed the situation - taking in the layout of the bar and the locations of those now watching them. With great respect and a little admiration, Cori knew Kenzie had all of her options covered before she took a single step into the bar. Cori wrinkled her nose at the stale smell of cheap beer, cigarettes, and marijuana as she waited for Kenzie to proceed.
There was a tall, thin man behind the bar. The pen behind his ear and the clipboard in his hand told Kenzie all she needed to know about him. Another man, seated at one of the small round tables and eating a plate of something, was not of any interest to her either. Taking a few hesitant steps further into the bar, Kenzie's gaze fell on the two large men seated at one of the back booths, next to a closed door, Big Polly's office. They made no attempt to hide the guns strapped to their bodies or the automatic weapons within reach on the table.
One of the men nodded toward the closed door, granting Kenzie and Cori permission to approach. They crossed through the bar and one of the men stood up to open the door. One after the other, the two women entered the small, bare room. A naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling by a single wire dimly lit the cement floor and gray cinderblock walls. There was only one other door in the room, and there was nothing on it to indicate where it led.
Without warning, the door opened suddenly and a mountain of a man filled the doorway. His features were dark, "dangerous" was the word that came to Cori's mind, but the thought disappeared the moment he smiled at Kenzie.
"Talofa, my little lost Senorita" His friendly voice boomed off the walls as he gathered Kenzie in for a crushing and painful hug.
For a brief moment, Cori wondered exactly what talofa meant, but that was forgotten as she found herself on the receiving end of the large man's contagious smile.
"I'm so glad you made it, and in one piece." He eyed her injuries and quickly changed his opinion. "A little damaged, I see, but in one piece, eh?" He gave her an extra little squeeze.
"Yeah, well." Kenzie stepped back and looked into the smiling face of the big man. "I better warn you, we seem to be attracting company no matter where we go."
"Really? That's interesting." Big Polly turned his bright gaze to Cori. "And who is this pretty young thing, eh?"
Cori returned his smile, but as she did, she saw a flicker of something ominous in his dark eyes. This is not a man you cross, she thought.
"Big Polly, this is..." Kenzie's mind ran through many different descriptions of what Cori was to her, but none seemed to fit. "This is my...ah...this is Cori. Cori, Big Polly."
The Samoan offered his massive hand and Cori took it hesitantly. Though he was still smiling, she could feel his eyes assessing her from the ground up. Standing tall, she refused to cower before his scrutiny.
"Do I want to see what the other guy looks like?" Big Polly said pleasantly as he lifted her chin to examine the bruise to her eye and lip. He couldn't help but notice her glance at Kenzie.
Interesting, he thought as he backed up and beckoned them into his office. "Well, come on i
n and let's see what we can do for you."
It was a large room with no windows, but the air was cool and, to Cori's way of thinking, smelled a lot better than the bar. There were two leather couches in the center, and against the back wall was a massive desk suited to someone of Big Polly's size. Next to the desk was a small bar with a couple of tall stools pushed up against its high, thick wooden top. Cori had almost expected crates of guns and ammunition, but so far the only weapons she had seen were two crossed American Civil War swords mounted on the wall directly behind the desk.
Big Polly walked over to the bar. There were several bottles of liquor at one end, with glasses stacked next to them. He pulled a bottle of Perrier sparkling mineral water out of the small fridge below the bar and handed it to Kenzie without her even asking. He obviously knew her well enough to know her beverage of choice.
"Big Polly, I need to make a secure call to the States," Kenzie said after she took a sip from her bottle.
"Not a problem," he answered. Moving out from behind the bar, he walked over to his desk and sat down. There were several phones within reach on the desk, but he opened a drawer and pulled out a small box of cell phones. "They're throwaways." He handed one to Kenzie. "Will this work for you?"
"Uh huh," she said, taking the phone from his hand.
"If you need a call back number..." He turned the phone over, showing Kenzie the cell's number taped to the back.
Kenzie nodded in understanding. "Thanks," she said as she dialed a number deeply embedded in her memory.