by Jon Coon
“What did you think?” Tom asked as they pulled up to the outbuilding for trucks and four wheelers.
“About the flying? I really liked it. I’m surprised. It’s always kind of scared me, but flying the plane has a better feel than simply being a passenger. Kind of like riding on the back of a motorcycle versus driving it.”
“Kind of like life then. Leading is always better than being led.”
“Never thought about it that way, but I suppose you’re right.”
“Well, I’ll give you a little warning: Carol is a lot like her mother was. If you start feeling like you’re the boss hoss, it’s only because she let you. Don’t let those big green eyes fool you. She will always want to be the lead mare.”
“So how did that work with you and your wife?”
“I learned to say, ‘yes, dear,’ in several languages and just tried them all until I found one that worked.” He slapped Gabe on the back, and they went up the porch steps into the house.
They settled in the den. Carol in a recliner by the fireplace and Emily ensconced on the big leather couch by her grandfather. Tom pulled his boots off and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“Tell me about Paul,” Carol said and then added, “Mom would fuss at you for doing that.” Carol pointed to his feet on the table and scowled.
“Don’t tell her,” he retorted with a grin. “Paul sounded all right. I only got to talk to him for a minute, but he sounded all right.”
“So what happens now? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. We have a team there looking. People I trust. We’re going to go and look and wait and pray, and when something happens, hope for the best. I don’t know what else to do.”
“You’re not going to do anything that would put Paul or those girls in danger? No Texas Ranger Indian fighter stuff?”
“No, not until those kids are safe. After that, we’ll see.”
“You promise?”
“I do.”
“Okay, then you can keep your feet on the table and I won’t tell Mom.” She smiled a half-smile and went out to the kitchen.
The tension in the room subsided when Carol left.
It was a welcoming room. Rich woodwork, warm colors, stone fireplace with crossed Winchesters beneath a tintype of early Rangers, paintings of cutting horses at work. Gabe soaked it in. So this was what it felt like to grow up on the right side of the tracks. With parents who didn’t shout and hit and keep you scared to close your eyes at night. Must have been nice.
He was tired from his dives and it felt good to sink into the overstuffed leather chair and enjoy the warmth and love that lingered from generations of Carol’s family, like the smell of great cooking could linger in a room and be enjoyed hours after the meal was over. Tom had said he suspected life was a little different on Gabe’s planet. He couldn’t have nailed it more on center with one of the hunting rifles in his gun safe.
“Okay, here’s the plan,” Tom said quietly to Gabe. “We know the general area where Paul’s being held, and we’ve got a team looking for the girls. The cartel will call us to fly down to Puerto Aventura and play tourist. We’re going to fish and do the town. Then we’re going to bring back a load of their coke. What they don’t know is I’m inserting a large team that will be looking for Paul and those girls, and we will find them.”
Carol heard him talking as she was coming back from the kitchen and sat on the couch beside Gabe. Emily put down her phone and tuned in to the conversation.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they have eyes on us here at the ranch,” Tom continued. “So it’s important to be vigilant and careful. Don’t put yourselves in vulnerable situations.” He was looking at Carol and Emily. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
They both nodded.
“Now, let’s talk security. I’ve hired some extra hands, and a while back we built an underground bunker, like a bomb shelter, underneath that old bunkhouse by the lake. It’s got everything you would need if the wolf comes knocking. There are cameras and motion detectors, generators for emergency power, an armory, and room for all of you. The cameras are monitored 24/7, and the security staff are first rate.”
“Dad, what are you expecting? World War III?”
“When I took this job, I knew there would be risks and I just wanted to be ready. These are powerful people we’re up against, and they don’t play nice. So I’ve tried to even the odds. We just have to make sure we stay ahead of them. Preparation and prevention, that’s what will keep us all safe.”
Chapter 14
GABE STRIPPED TO HIS SHORTS and was headed for the shower when there was a knock on his bedroom door. Carol came in wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a tee shirt.
She closed the door quietly behind her and sat on the bed waiting. Gabe pulled his jeans off the back of the door and pulled on his shirt from the day before.
“I’m a nurse, remember? And when I was your nurse, I saw you in less than that,” she teased.
“Yeah, but I was covered in blood and river mud. This is different. What’s up?”
“Emily is worried about us. She says enough time has passed and we should be together. Also, she says if that’s not going to happen we should move back here to the ranch.”
“Emily says?”
“She does.”
“And what do you say?”
“Pretty much what I said the last time. I’m worried my dad is in way over his head here. He’s building bomb shelters and talking about a war with some cartel. Now he’s hauling you off to Mexico and God only knows what’s going to happen down there. I’m praying for Paul, but I have a bad feeling about this. And the most infuriating thing is, we don’t need this, Gabe. This doesn’t have to be part of our lives. My mother talked about leaving him and now I understand why. This is no way for civilized people to live. None of this had to happen. It’s the Wild West all over again. And I don’t even like Western movies. I don’t want any part of it. Let’s just get our horses and go home. We can worry about Paul from there just as well as from here.” She pounded a pillow. “Will you teach me how to split logs? I just hate the way I’m feeling.”
Gabe tried to hold her, comfort her, but she pulled away. He let her have her space and gently said, “I admire your dad. Not many guys are standing up for America and would be willing to take the risks he’s taking to bring those little girls back. And then there’s Paul. If we don’t go after him, no one will. Your dad knows that. We have to go.”
“I wonder if anyone can save him? I’d honestly have to say the odds aren’t too good.” There was a gritty resolve in her voice, and as she wiped away a tear, she sighed softly, dejectedly, and asked, “So what am I going to tell Emily?”
“Tell her I love her and love you too. But I know who I am and who I need to be. Carol, I’d walk though fire for you. I thought I’d proved that already. What you’re asking me to do, give up police work … you might as well ask me to stop breathing. It’s who I am. It’s who I’m supposed to be. It’s my gift. Or my curse. Whatever. And as much as I love you, and I truly do, I’d be wasted skin if I abandoned what I believe is God’s purpose for my life.”
“I’ll tell her you love her,” Carol said and got up from the bed. She kissed him on the cheek and was gone.
He lay back on the bed staring at the slats in the ceiling and repeated his dive prayer. “Lord, I’m in your hands. Please have mercy.”
Out of the shower and dressed, he came down the grand stair to the smell of rancho de huevos and found Consuela busy in the kitchen preparing enough food to sustain men on a cattle drive. “Come sit down. Señor Tom has already eaten and said for you to take your time and then meet him in the hangar when you’re ready.”
“Have the girls come down?”
“I don’t believe.”
“This looks wonderful. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to see Señora looking so well. I think you are good for her. I hope you will come often.”
“Thank you,” he said, but wondered.
After eating, he grabbed a second cup of coffee and headed out to the motor pool. Several trucks and ATVs, tractors and mowers, all well maintained, were lined up in proper military fashion. He found the key locker, took the keys for an ATV, and headed down the gravel road to the hangars. Tom was upside down in a flame-red Beech Bonanza. The V-tailed beauty with the low-set wings of a fighter.
“Morning,” Tom called from his inverted position in the cockpit.
“Morning. That looks like fun.”
“I’m too old for this. Would you mind handing me that three-sixteenth nut driver and a Phillips head?”
Gabe found the tools in the box sitting on the wing and passed them in. “Can I help?”
“No room and I’ll be done in a minute. There. I think that’s got it. Just putting in some new Garmin nav gear. Something I’ve been wanting to try for a while now.”
Tom handed the tools out and then awkwardly crawled backwards out of the plane.
“She’s a beauty,” Gabe said.
“Wait till you see what she can do in the air. Pure magic. Help me for a minute, will you? These back seats need to come out.”
With that, he took a socket wrench and unbolted the two rear seats. It took some maneuvering to get them through the door and down to the deck. Then they loaded four large pelican cases, the type used by the military to transport electronics. Tom secured them and came off the wing and went to a waiting coffee mug on a desk by the door. “Cold, of course.” He put it in the microwave atop the file cabinet and set the timer. “Can you be ready to go in about an hour?”
“Ready now.”
“Good. They called me again last night. They want us there tomorrow, so it’s starting. We’ll get fueled up and get in the air. It’s only a little over four hours, but I want to make sure we get there with plenty of daylight. My night vision isn’t as good as it used to be, and I’d like to be able to see where we are going to land.”
“Good, that’s good. What do you need me to do?”
“I’ve got passports and IDs for us. Leave anything here that says cop, and I set out some shirts for you. Ones that scream ‘tourista.’ We’ll work on a little Spanish for you on the way down.”
Tom stretched and put the tools back in a chest on rollers. Gabe followed him as Tom rolled the tool chest back in the shop area of the hangar.
“Have you got an idea of how long we’ll be gone?”
“A week or so. I hope we can delay our return. I want all the time we can get to look for Paul and those girls. But we’re going to have to convince the cartel we’re not a threat. Just a couple of dumb cops doing what we’re told.”
Carol and Emily stood and waved as the Bonanza taxied to the far end of the field.
“This is the fun part,” Tom said. “This engine makes this one of the most powerful civilian planes built back then.” He set the brake and brought the engine revs up to a roar. He checked the gauges, wagged the flaps and ailerons, released the brakes, and they were launched into the air. Gabe was shocked at the power the little plane had as he found himself forced into his seatback. They climbed quickly to altitude, and Tom leveled out on course.
“These were called V-tailed doctor killers in the early days. Their ads said anyone could fly them, but they didn’t come with IFR electronics for limited viz or bad weather. Pilots overestimated their own abilities, and there were several notable accidents. It’s easy to get disorientated when you’ve lost visual references. Then bad things happen.”
“Have you had her long?”
“The government bought several for Nam to use as observation planes. When the war was over, they dumped them. I got this one from a shop who bought several and reconditioned them with the newer, bigger engines, new metal skins and electronics upgrades. Just about everything you could ask for. Turned out to be a good investment. They bring good money these days.”
“Only one steering wheel. Why is that?”
“It’s called a yoke, and it will flip from side to side. It probably saved a couple bucks, but it made instruction difficult. Takes too much time to flip if the instructor needs to solve a problem in a hurry.”
An hour passed, and they had flown over Galveston and the Baytown oil field. Gabe saw the tideline where the brown river water met the clear, deep-blue Gulf. It brought back memories of a project he’d worked at the West Texas Flower Gardens, a seamount rising from seven hundred feet to within seventy feet of the surface. It was a hundred miles south of Galveston and some of the most beautiful diving anywhere. His mind wandered and the drone of the engine was hypnotizing. He wondered how many crashes had occurred because pilots simply fell asleep.
Chapter 15
CAROL FOUND EMILY IN THE cutting horse barn rubbing the nose of Mr. Mister. She saw the carrot disappear from Emily’s hand and realized why the horse was paying such rapt attention.
“He’s a big baby for a stallion. He loved to compete and please his rider, as long as you did things his way. He had a great run.”
“Like Diamond Jack?”
“Almost, but Jack was a one in a million. He could read a calf’s mind and outsmart it every time. All I had to do was hang on. And he loved it.”
“Almost as much as you?”
“Almost as much as me.”
“Have you seen him yet?”
“Nope. I was planning to ride out to his paddock this morning. Want to go?”
“Sure. Can I drive?”
“Yep, but we need to make a stop on the way.”
“Can I feed him carrots?”
“All you can carry. Let’s go.”
They climbed into the ATV and cut a dusty trail toward the lake. They could see the massive Southern live oaks before they saw the lake or the three dilapidated buildings. Emily parked in the shade, and they walked up to the tin-roofed, rough-cut-siding bunkhouse.
Carol didn’t remember all of the history, only that it had been standing since her great-grandfather owned the ranch, which because of the original land grant of nearly 100,000 acres was five times the size of what remained. Partitioning of property for inheritance to her grandfather’s four siblings had been the reason for the divisions, and now the only land left in the family name was the 20,000 acres her father owned, along with the homeplace and an assortment of barns and outbuildings.
“It’s kinda creepy,” Emily said of the bunkhouse.
“Yeah, it is. Let’s have a look.” Carol wanted to know what her dad had been talking about when he mentioned the new construction and the extra hand he’d hired.
A large, creaky covered porch overlooked the centuries-old live oaks and, below, the 500-acre lake where she had swum and skied and occasionally gone skinny-dipping with Charlie. Only after they were married, of course. Happy memories of campfires and cookouts tugged at her heart until she realized Emily was on the porch struggling to get the tattered screen door open.
“Mom, I can’t get this door. I think—”
“Who are you and what do you want?” a metallic voice boomed from hidden speakers.
Emily jumped and nearly fell backward down the porch steps. Carol caught her and stepped up to the door. “I’m Carol Evans, ah—Carol Bright. Tom Bright’s daughter. And this is my daughter, Emily.”
“There’s a stairwell under the south end of the porch. Come down and I will open the door for you. Leave any weapons and cell phones in the whiskey barrel.”
Carol looked down at Emily, who nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Which way is south, Mom?”
Carol looked at the sun and tried to imagine a sundial and the rotation of the earth in relationship to the sun. “I think it’s that way,” she said, pointing toward the trees where the ATV was parked. They came down the steps, and when they got to the end, discovered a recessed, short tunnel leading to a door that looked like it should’ve been on a bank vault. They followed instructions and put their phones in the barrel and then the door pinged
and popped and swung open as some sort of mechanical drive operated two large rams on the inside.
A young man, early thirties, with unkempt, shoulder-length, sandy-brown hair and Coke-bottle glasses appeared in the doorway. “Hi, I’m Jimmy, the duty tech geek. People call me Jimmy the Geek. But I’m not sure the ones who do are my friends. Please come in.”
“What is this?” Carol asked.
“We call it The Last Resort. It may be the coolest bomb shelter of all time,” Jimmy answered. “Except maybe the ones in Virginia for the president and all the politicians.”
As they followed him and their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, they saw TV monitors, at least twenty, from access points and observation points strategically located all over the property.
“Wow,” Emily said. “That’s cool.”
“We monitor the ranch 24/7, and there are living quarters here for thirty of your family and our staff. We have filtered water from the lake and our own septic system. Your dad really did it right. If you were wondering why he wanted you here at the ranch after Paul was taken, this is it.”
“You know about that?”
“We don’t know everything, but what we don’t know generally isn’t important.”
“What else can you do here?”
“You mean in addition to hacking almost anything, including several satellites and government computers? Oh, not much.”
“Where did the money come from for all this? Dad doesn’t have resources like this, does he?”
“You need to ask him about that. But I’ll tell you this, your dad has a lot of very powerful friends, and when they decide to do something, it’s Texas style and it’s never half-assed.”
Tom landed the Bonanza at Puerto Aventura and taxied to a waiting hangar. Once inside with the hangar doors closed, they unloaded the pelican cases and luggage. Pelican cases in one truck, luggage into a rented red Mercedes convertible. Thirty minutes later, they were at the hotel. Tom checked them in while Gabe tried and failed to get the pronunciation of the hotel name to come out right. After all, X isn’t a letter Americans use to begin many words. The hotel was opulent, and their suites were even more so. Travertine floors supported handcrafted, gloss-varnished cedar furniture, which held enough booze and snacks to feed a rock star’s entourage. Bathroom fixtures were gold and the towels and linens suitable for Buckingham Palace. Gabe felt completely out of place. Tom, on the other hand, made a point of downplaying the entire affair.