‘Hotwire? We?’
‘Okay, I meant me. Whatever happens, keep low behind me, and watch for my signals. With a bit of luck it could be the pilot’s pickup. Or maybe it’s only a driver waiting to collect the pilot and the drugs. If it is just a driver, we can hopefully get a jump on him and ask him about your daughter. Are you prepared for that, whatever the answer is?’
‘I honestly don’t know. If she’s dead, it depends how she died.’ Her eyes moistened. ‘If she’s alive, have they told her about me, or claimed her as their own? Whichever it is, I’m still the loser. If everything turns out perfect, I still can’t get back those four lost years.’
Leandra swiped the back of her hand over her eyes. She took a deep breath and we exchanged glances. Her eyes glazed, giving me the impression that she was devoid of emotion and mentally prepared.
Lining up with the field, I feathered the throttle and adjusted the flaps. I was out of practice, so we hit the ground and bounced, sending my innards skyward. The tyres touched down again. This time I had the STOL under control. With a rumble, I taxied near the hedgerow and we slowed to a halt. In a frenzy of activity, we unfastened our belts, grabbed the bags, opened the doors, and jumped. Leandra rolled over, clutching her ankle, and winced.
‘Damn it, I twisted my ankle.’
I launched my bag at the hedge and then, rolling under the crop duster, I helped her to stand. My vision danced in all directions as I stumbled toward the hedgerow, dragging Leandra with her arm over my shoulder and carrying the second bag. Crawling on hands and knees through a gap, we both collapsed in a drainage ditch, breathing heavily.
‘How’s your ankle?’
‘Painful. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk very far.’
I turned around on my belly and peered through the hedgerow. As I looked in the direction of the barn, the large wooden door rolled open, grating on the runners. Alongside the barn, there were barrels of aviation fuel, one of them mounted on a refuelling cart.
A figure appeared in the doorway. He gestured, pointing in the direction of the crop duster, and someone joined him.
Sweat from my brow dripped and smarted in my eyes. I rubbed both eyes and blinked, focusing on the two figures. Damn if it wasn’t Squat and his sidekick, the one who’d gunned down Leila and her family. Another figure joined them and Squat pointed to the crop duster and then scratched his head. Squat slapped the third figure on the backside, sending him stumbling in our direction. As he approached, I identified him as the young man I’d put to sleep back at the farm. He looked nervous, constantly looking back at Squat, who simply waved the young man onward.
‘We’ve got trouble,’ I said.
Leandra’s eyes widened and she crawled over to my position. The young man walked around the crop duster, whose doors were still open. He looked over in the direction of the barn, outstretched his arms, palms upright, and lifted his shoulders.
He put his hands to his mouth and hollered, ‘Vacío.’
Leandra whispered, ‘He’s saying it’s empty.’
When she moved her hand, a twig snapped. The young man looked directly over our way. I looked down the barrel of my rifle, lining him up in my sights. Leandra grabbed the barrel.
‘Don’t shoot, he’s retarded.’
The young man froze, like an actor on stage who had forgotten his lines, not sure whether or not to exit stage left. Bewildered, he glanced over at Squat and then back in our direction. He made to grab his rifle still hanging on the strap over his shoulder, but he fumbled and it dropped from his hands. Darting toward him, I grabbed him, bringing him to ground with a tackle any linebacker would have been proud to make. A burst of gunfire dug up the soil around us, raking in a line and stopping just short of causing any damage.
Spinning him over, I wrapped my arm around his neck, and twisted his arm up his back. My body reacted with a flinch at the explosion of Leandra firing a covering round past us and toward our assailants. I dragged our prisoner through the hedgerow into the ditch.
‘That’s blown any surprise. Now we’re in for a fight. How do you know he’s retarded?’
Chapter 39
Outflanked
The young man acted confused, rather than fearful. Bound with duct tape, secured to the base of a bush, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Lesson learned from Perez, I patted him down for weapons. All I found was his iTunes player. Securing his wrists, I tossed the tape to Leandra.
‘I’ll take over as lookout. Gag him for me.’
‘Not yet. I need to talk to him first. He’s the only one at the farm who looked after me. He never left my side during my labour. Listen, they’ve gone inside the barn and closed the door. Can’t we get back in the crop duster and get the hell away from here and alert the authorities?’
‘Not without refuelling. Besides, we’d be sitting ducks.’
‘What should we do now?’
‘You question the boy for information about your daughter. I’ll move to a new position and fire off some shots at the barn as a diversion to make them think we’ve moved and then come back here. Just one thing, please keep scanning in all directions. We don’t want anyone getting the jump on us again.’
More than anything, I was giving myself a reminder. Three times in a row was beyond a joke, but then I wasn’t a trained marine. I rummaged in my pocket and pulled out the GPS transmitter.
‘You know the drill. If I don’t come back, press the button.’
Leandra took hold of the transmitter with one hand and clasped her other hand in mine.
‘Good luck,’ she said and my hand untwined from hers, lingering at our fingertips.
‘You too.’
This close to victory, I needed to up my game. Crawling through the hedgerow and onto a dirt road, I scanned the flat terrain covering our rear. I doubted even a snake could sneak up on us from there.
Leandra started her questions as I set off along the line of bushes.
‘Do you remember me? I was at the farm having a baby.’
‘Baby – Rosa...’
Their voices drifted, mingling with the rush of leaves in the strong breeze. Birds sang in the bushes. The midday sun had sucked any moisture from the land. The heat of the day was unforgiving – relentless. Clouds of dust whipped up like mini-twisters, dancing in front of my eyes, the occasional tumbleweed rolling by. After around thirty yards, I stopped. The sun was high in the sky and to my back. At least I thought it would blind Squat and his crew. But for now, shielded from the breeze at the hedgerow, the rays were like laser beams trying to ignite the hairs on the nape of my neck.
Crawling through the hedge on my belly and into a ditch, I peered toward the barn. A rusting plough stood between the barn and my position. The barn door was slightly open, maybe six inches, the gap appearing as a dark band against the faded gray wood of the structure.
Lining my vision down the barrel of my assault rifle, I concentrated on the opening and feathered the trigger. When I lowered my breathing rate, my nerves steadied. A flash of white appeared in the gap, about the right height for a T-shirt, and I squeezed a single round toward the target. I remained motionless. The round struck the wall, three or four inches to the left of the gap. A last-second adjustment at the idea the target could be someone innocent wasn’t an excuse for my being unable to hit a barn door.
Muzzle flashes appeared in the gap, returning fire. The sound of automatic gunfire rounds pinged off the iron plough, with some rounds swishing overhead, and I ducked back in the ditch and hugged the ground, tasting the dirt. This time, the shooter hadn’t aimed short. Bullets ripped through the hedge, showering me in leaves and twigs. It was too close for comfort, but at least they had a secondary target.
I began to wonder where my head had been at, returning there. The Zenith STOL had a short landing profile that on rough ground, I could have set it down anywhere near civilization. All I would have had to do was phone home to let everyone know I was safe, alert the authorities to take down Squat, and fin
d out what had happened to Leandra’s daughter. The vision of Leila and her family lying dead in a heap rolled through my mind, and reminded me why I was there.
I looked to either side along the drainage ditch. As much cover as I had, I still felt exposed behind and on both sides. I had only seen the three of them and I had one tied up, but that wasn’t to say there weren’t more inside.
I doubted they would risk a full frontal attack and tried to put myself in their mindset. The barn was a wooden structure. It wouldn’t take a genius to work out that they could remove some planks and exit from the back and into the woods, then simply hightail it out of there. Then again, this was Squat. Somehow, I didn’t think he would be the type to run, at least not with the comfort of an automatic rifle and ammunition at his command.
I raised my rifle over the ridge of the ditch, this time aiming blindly in the direction of the barn door and ducked back. There was no return fire this time.
I was nervous about them not firing back. They obviously had my position marked. If they hadn’t run, then I guessed they were going to try out-flanking me. No sooner had that thought passed and I had decided to return to Leandra than I saw a figure dart behind the engine block of the pickup. It was parked thirty yards along the hedge to my right and next to the gate. Easing back under the hedge, I could see enough through the cover of leaves to keep a view of the pickup.
All my thoughts turned to a prayer that Leandra had finished her questions and was alert to everything around her. There was another burst of fire from the direction of the barn. I stayed focused on my right flank. The figure darted from behind the vehicle out of my sight through the gate. Their attempt at distraction didn’t work. I switched the rifle over to three rounds and turned under the bush only to snag my pants on a branch.
He wouldn’t need to cover the thirty yards. All he would need to do would be to rake my position.
Chapter 40
The Challenge
Lying in the hedgerow ditch, my pants were still snagged on a branch. Not daring to break the twig, or to move, for fear of alerting my stalker, my body acted like an amplifier. Every breath and beat of the heart sounded like a beat box with sounds exiting woofer and tweeter speakers at full volume. Remaining motionless, I peered through the leaves, training the barrel of my rifle in Sidekick’s general direction. Another burst of automatic gunfire from behind me and in the direction of the barn created enough commotion for me to break the branch, releasing my pants.
Snatching my hand back to the barrel, I caught a fleeting sight of a shadowy figure through a gap in the foliage, too late to get a clear shot. Instinctively, I melded into the ditch and ducked. Not a second too late, I was taking evasive action, rounds peppering my position from the front; one bullet flying so close it almost parted my hair – then click.
More shots from the direction of the barn and I used the sound to mask a change of position. Like a crab, I scrambled along the ditch. My elbows and knees dug in, carrying me forward, cradling my rifle. Heavy breathing aside and with my heart pumping crazily, the air was still when I came to rest – that is, apart from the metallic noises. When I peered through the base of a bush, there he was, kneeling in the dirt road, frantically slapping the loading mechanism of his rifle and then re-clipping his magazine. I took steady aim at his chest.
‘Drop your weapon.’
He glanced upward, and raising his rifle, I squeezed the trigger. Three rounds hit him in rapid succession, ripping at his T-shirt in close order. He keeled over, his blood forming a pool.
‘That’s for Leila and her family, bastard,’ I said in a mumble through gritted teeth.
More gunfire erupted from the direction of the barn. Spinning around, I dropped to the ground and then scrambled back through a gap in the hedge and into the ditch. I could see Squat and four of his men were advancing, firing from the hip toward my original position. A single shot from my left and one of the men dropped, clutching his chest, the others freezing, except for Squat at their rear. He ran back to the barn door and closed it behind him, leaving those remaining to dart behind the stack of barrels. It had to have been Leandra who fired the shot.
They continued to spray rounds in my general direction. Switching my rifle to automatic, I waited for a lull and then, raising my head, I poked my automatic over the ditch and sprayed the barrels with rounds. Aviation fluid spilled out from the bullet holes. I fired another burst. One of the barrels exploded, taking off like a rocket and landing on the barn roof, setting it ablaze, and rolled off into the other barrels, leaving a stream of flames in its path. I looked on with my jaw gaping as another barrel exploded and then another. The entire barn was quickly ablaze. Figures ran around, engulfed in flames, their fate sealed. One by one, they dropped to the ground, thrashing at first, then motionless, their clothes still flaming. With the breeze drifting in my direction, I retched at the smell of burning flesh mixed with the odour of aviation fuel.
I backed out from the ditch, through the hedge and ran for all I was worth along the dirt road toward Leandra, to the sound of more explosions.
‘Leandra, don’t shoot, it’s me.’
I dove under the hedgerow and into the ditch alongside Leandra. Short of breath, I sucked in some air and I looked in the direction of the barn in time to see the entire roof lift at the sound of yet another explosion. The roof fell back and then collapsed. A column of flames and smoke rose into the sky with the burning wood crackling.
‘That’s done it now. I wasn’t expecting Squat to go to his own hell so quickly. Did the boy tell you anything? I can’t see there being anyone left here to give us answers.’
I turned to look at Leandra when she failed to answer. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She sat with her back hunched against the ditch, her arm limp and holding the Glock loosely in her hand, resting it on her lap. Her eyes seemed to plead for comfort. Wriggling over to her, I put my arms around her and drew her to me.
‘Hey, I understand. The first time you shoot someone is always the worst, and it wasn’t a pretty sight watching those men burn.’
She pulled away from my hold. ‘It’s not that... It’s—’
‘It’s what?’
There was a brief silence. I glanced at the boy. She hadn’t gagged him, but she had connected his earphones to his iTunes player. He was smiling and bobbing his head to the music, apparently oblivious to all that had happened around us.
‘Rosa is dead.’
Stunned, despite what Perez had said, I wasn’t ready for that answer. I turned sharply and looked directly into her moist eyes. Leandra’s expression was solemn and her bottom lip trembled.
‘What – oh no. How?’
I drew her to me once more as she sobbed and I kissed the top of her head.
Her voice faltered and was muffled, with her head buried in my chest. ‘She was stillborn. I often wondered. I – I never did hear her cry. The guy you called Squat, he – he said to put her in the garbage.’ I gave her a squeeze. ‘Sanchez here – he took her on his cycle to Saint Mary’s Church cemetery in a nearby village and buried her in a flower bed next to a cypress tree, after dark. He...’
Her words turned to wails. If I could have, I would have sold my soul right there and then to make things different for her. I blinked an eye and released a tear.
‘Shush there, you can tell me later. We can’t stay here. Really, we need to get away from here to a phone. I hope we can get the pickup going. There’s not much chance of refuelling the crop duster now, is there?’
Leandra drew her head back and attempted a smile. I let go of her and she lifted her T-shirt to dry her eyes.
‘What about Sanchez?’ Leandra asked.
‘We’ll take him with us and release him near his farm. Squat and his cronies aren’t a danger to us now.’
Leandra took several deep breaths. Her eyes misted with grief, but drawing on an inner strength, she somehow managed to function. I had to admire her tenacity. After I passed her my knife, she sliced at the
duct tape binding Sanchez and released him. Looking on, watching her comfort the boy, I wished it were in my power to take her home with me so she could recover. Somehow, I felt emptiness inside at knowing we would soon be heading our separate ways. A shrug of the shoulders dispelled the idea. All my thoughts turned to getting home.
‘Stay alert,’ I said.
I felt an urge to hug her and shout “we’re free” but a dance in triumph wouldn’t have been appropriate. For the life of me, I couldn’t separate the relief that we were now on a home run, from the sadness in my heart at Leandra’s plight and one she would have to face alone.
Leandra handed back the knife and ushered Sanchez through the hedge and onto the dirt road. I took one last look over at the barn in time to see the front give one last heave and collapse inward. Sparks rose into the smoke, and the flames spiralled with a roar. The fumes had thickened the air with a rancid taste that stuck at the back of my throat.
By the time I had worked my way out of the ditch, Leandra was hopping down the dirt road, with Sanchez holding her arm and helping her to keep her balance.
‘Wait for me.’
I caught up and walked ahead. The body of Squat’s sidekick lay motionless on the road. His pool of blood had soaked into the dirt, leaving a dark stain. I stopped and waited for Leandra and the boy to catch up. Leandra averted her gaze from the corpse. Sanchez let go of her arm and kicked the body.
‘Bad man. He did bad things to me.’ That’s the way I translated his words.
I pulled him back. ‘Keep moving,’ I said, and I took Leandra’s arm. We walked on until we reached the pickup.
‘Kurt, I can’t walk any further.’
I helped her to sit near the gate. ‘Watch the boy,’ I said and opened the pickup door. ‘Damn, there’s no key. Wait there.’
I walked back to the body in the road and used the toe of my boot to turn him over. The vision of him gunning down Leila and her family flashed through my mind. I had no remorse at having killed him. I just felt relief that the scumbag wouldn’t be around to end anyone else’s life. Stooping, I fished in his pocket, located a set of car keys, and picked up his rifle. Jogging back to the pickup, I wiped my bloodstained hand on my pants.
Deadly Journey Page 23