A New Life Series - Finisher Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  “Yeah, I’ll take it,” Enrique shoved it in his pocket. Picking up her nine, he dropped the clip out to find it full, “I’ll take this, too,” and shoved it in as well. “We need clothes?”

  “Only if they’re packed and ready,” Michael shook his brown curls, dashing back down the stairs to lock the back door. “The Feds took all our shit. All our intel on them,” he lamented when he arrived back at the front door.

  “It’s ok,” Enrique countered, “We know where they’s at, more or less. We go to El Paso, then over to Juarez if we have to, and look around. Maybe check out that bar where all those girls was taken from.”

  “Good plan,” Michael agreed. “Let’s get out of here,” and he locked the front as well. Climbing on their bikes, he zipped over to the diner to inform Trish that they were off again for a few days, knowing she would worry if he didn’t.

  Riding side by side, it seemed a long journey, making their way north and west until they finally hit Interstate-10. On the major highway, they were able to move faster, arriving in El Paso in time to see the sunset. Stopping for fuel, Enrique inquired as to their next move, suggesting they needed to locate the bar.

  “I have the address,” Michael reminded him, “I helped Eli plot it on the map, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah,” his counterpart grinned nervously, “We’re gonna get her back. And I think we should call Eli, and let him know what’s happened.”

  “You have his number?” Michael, glanced over, finished filling his tank.

  “Yeah,” Enrique waved his little phone. Making the call, he hung up a few minutes later to give his partner a rundown, “Basically, he’s pretty pissed we didn’t calls him sooner. But, he’s gonna contact anyone that might be able to help us, and we’re supposed to check in if anything changes.”

  “Good enough,” Michael agreed, swinging his leg over his bike, “Let’s get to that bar and see what we can find.”

  Snaking through the streets, they arrived at the club, parking down the block. As they strode to the front, Enrique observed, “Man, this place’s huge.”

  “Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Must be how they’re able to have their choice of girls here. Let’s get inside, get us some seats. We’ll order beers and have a look around.”

  Following the plan, Enrique grabbed a table, and they ordered two bottles from the waitress. Keeping his eyes on the room, he took a long swig, recalling that they never did eat lunch. “You see anything yet?”

  Michael shook his head, noticing the door next to them was a bathroom. “On second thought, maybe,” and he indicated the portal.

  “It’s the John,” Enrique muttered, “So what?”

  “I swear I’ve seen at least two people who went in, who did not come back out,” he looked away, hoisting his beer. “Either it’s not really a toilet, or there’s another exit from it.”

  Enrique stared at him, “You’re wife’s missing, and that’s the best you can come up with? The shitter has another way out?”

  Michael cut his eyes over at him, “Keep your voice down. This is their turf, remember?”

  The other man looked annoyed, impatient as ever, “Wells, I’m gonna take a piss.” Standing, he ambled into the men’s room, returning a half a minute later.

  “Did you even wash your hands?” Michael quipped in disgust.

  “No,” Enrique shot back, keeping his voice low, “I think I found the exit, and you’re not gonna believe it. You still gots that key?”

  “The filing cabinet key?”

  “Yeah, only that’s not what it opens. When you gets inside, there’s a grate on the wall, under the sinks. It has a little silver lock on it, and there’s cool air coming out of it.”

  Michael almost spit his beer, “You mean the air conditioner?”

  “No, dumbass,” he clenched his teeth, straining to keep his voice low, “The opening is about three foot by three foot. It’s gotta be a door. Go check it with the key!”

  Michael took another slow sip, staring at his friend. Setting his bottle on the table, he called loudly, “My turn,” and pushed his way through the entrance. Sure enough, there beneath the sink lay a large cover made of expanded metal. Dropping quickly, he applied the key.

  Emitting a small gasp, he pulled the door wide and shoved his head inside, peering into the shaft that dropped almost straight down. Inspecting the miniature door, he discovered a latch to lock it from the other side. Wriggling in, he pulled it closed, sliding his way into the tunnel.

  Hidden Paths

  Tori sat watching the sunset, sipping from the glass of water that had been placed before her. Casting a glance around her, she could see that she what looked to be Rico’s estate, judging from the fine furnishings and the oversized pool. Heaving a deep sigh, she called to the man over her shoulder, who had been watching her, “You got anything to eat around here?”

  Her guard only stared at her, not making any effort to reply. Tori leaned back into her chair in disgust, kicking her feet straight out in front of her. Sorry bastards; I haven’t eaten anything but dry toast all fucking day.

  A few minutes later, a tall, slender Hispanic male joined her, wearing a white suit and a straw hat. Tori stared at him as he made his way up to the table, fairly certain that he was the owner of the property. “Hello, Mrs. Anderson,” Ruben Ramirez greeted her with a smile that was too large for the occasion.

  Raising her chin, the girl didn’t bother with pleasantries, “Would you like to explain why I’m here?”

  Wafting his hand around his beautiful yard, he laughed, “Isn’t this a nice place for a visit?”

  “I’m not in the mood for a visit,” she replied. “I’m tired and I’m hungry.”

  The smile disappeared from his lips, and he took a seat at the table next to her. “You should be careful. I only have so much patience.”

  “Is that a threat?” her voice remained calm.

  “I don’t make threats,” he countered. He pointed a finger at her, crossing his right leg over the left, “Perhaps you need to learn some manners. People who talk to me the way you do don’t live very long.”

  Tori lifted the glass, finishing off the water and chewing the remainder of the ice. “If I wasn’t hungry, I might be in a better mood,” her stomach lurched and she felt the familiar wave of nausea, followed by dizziness. Placing her elbows on the table, she rested her head in her hands.

  “Are you not feeling well?” her captor asked, a faint laugh rolling out.

  Tori cut her eyes over at him, then shifted to stare at the glass, oh my God; he poisoned me. “What was in it?” she asked calmly.

  “Oh, a little something to help you relax,” he grinned. “We’ll talk about it more when you wake up.”

  Enrique tapped his empty bottle on the table, debating if he should order another. Continuing to take in his surroundings, he jumped when Michael unexpectedly reappeared beside him. “Get us another round,” he commanded, retaking his seat. “And see if they have anything to eat.”

  Enrique moved to comply, returning a few minutes later with a basket of pretzel and peanut mix, along with two more frosty bottles. “Where does it go?” he ask, placing the items on the table.

  Michael lifted his drink, using it to shade his lips, “It’s a tunnel. It’s lighted and goes far beyond what I could see. And it explains how they are able to take people out of here unnoticed. The question is, do we dare go through it.”

  “Of course we do!” Enrique countered, his cheeks stuffed with nuts, “How else’re we gonna find her?”

  “We could try locating their houses,” Michael thought aloud, “But I think you’re right, the tunnel is probably a direct route. The problem is if we run into anyone who doesn’t think we belong there.”

  “Then eat up, and we’ll take our chances,” the other man agreed.

  “Go call Eli,” Michael directed, “Tell him there’s a tunnel system under the bar and part of the city, and whoever he is sending should come here first. We’ll start explo
ring when you get back.”

  Grabbing a hand full of the snack, the dark-haired man moved to comply. Returning a few minutes later, he shook his head, grabbing his bottle with a disgusted frown, “It may be hours before anyone gets here.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Michael shrugged. “We can’t wait. Right now, we’re going in. When we get inside, go straight down. The door has a latch on it, and I’ll be right behind you.”

  Inside the bathroom, they opened the entrance, and Enrique slid in first, Michael following closely behind. Moving through the narrow space, they had traveled about thirty feet before it opened up into a wider passage. Able to stand upright, he extended his arms, “Hey, Mike; look at this. How long you figure they been diggin’ on this?”

  “I dunno,” he shrugged, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling above them, “About thirty years would be my guess.” The tunnel extended in two directions from that point. Using the bar above them to get his bearings, “That way is south, and this way is north,” he pointed down the tunnel. “I say we go this way, first. We can always turn around if it meets a dead end.”

  “Don’t say dead,” Enrique cautioned.

  “Right,” Michael grimaced, leading the way.

  A few hundred yards down, a smaller tunnel came in from the left. Stretching, Michael couldn’t see anything in the pitch black leading up and away from the main shaft. “What do you think? We see what’s up there?”

  “Might as wells.”

  There were small steps etched into the dirt floor, making the climb somewhat easier as they felt their way along the walls. A few minutes later, they had reached the top, and a faint light could be seen around the edges of a flat level door above them. “I bet it’s in the floor of whatever this is above us.”

  “Yeah, I think sos too,” Enrique reached up to touch it, finding nothing on his side. “It’s wide enough to climbs through. Is there a latch on your side?”

  Feeling along the rough surface, Michael inhaled several times, trying to calm his nerves, “Found it. Slide back down a bit, and I’ll push it open. Nice and slow,” he added. Lifting on the door, he discovered that it was spring loaded, and swung wide very easily once he gave it a shove.

  Climbing up, he could tell it was a closet, with a barren bedroom through the doorway. “Come on,” he called softly behind him, still wanting to be quiet, in case the house wasn’t empty.

  Once the two of them were topside, they were able to look out of the window, noting that they were in a residential neighborhood. Peeking through the entrance to the room, they made their way quietly through the house, and Enrique drew the nine, in case they needed it. Exploring the structure with the light from outside, they refrained from turning on lights, which would expose their presence.

  One of the bedrooms held a sleeping pallet on the floor, which was empty, and there was a small amount of food in the kitchen. Other than that, the house was barren. “What do we do now?” Enrique queried, returning the pistol to his pocket.

  “We go back into the tunnel,” Michael supplied, “And keep trying doorways until we find the right one.”

  “Should I check in with Eli again?” Enrique continued to let the other man make the calls.

  “And what good is that going to do?” Michael quipped. “They’re not here. We’re here, and it’s taking too long for them to do anything as it is.”

  Enrique raised his hand, pointing his finger at him and preparing his argument, when the front door to the house swung open, and a young man walked into the deserted living area, carrying a few bags of groceries. Leaping to the side, the two men prepared to confront him, Michael slipped on his shades, anticipating the moment the lights would blaze on.

  Startled at the sight of them, the boy gave a yelp, dropping his bags and bolting towards the front door before the men caught him, throwing him to the floor. Straddling him, Michael began to beat him about the face and ears, unleashing his rage.

  “That’s enough!” Enrique finally called loudly. “Let’s see what he knows.”

  Standing, Michael dragged the man up, into a seated position, “Where does that tunnel go?” he demanded loudly.

  Their victim looked back and forth between them, obviously stunned that they knew about the passageway. Punching him in the face, the fairer haired man asked again, this time in Spanish, which earned him a weak response, “It goes everywhere.”

  “Yeah, no shit. We saw how long it is. We wanna know where it ends.” Michael was grasping at straws.

  “No,” Enrique cut in, “We wanna know which one will take us to Rico.”

  “Rico?” the boy repeated in bewilderment.

  “Yeah, Rico,” he twirled his hand in a circular motion, “The head guy. The one who runs the show. Rico Ramirez.”

  The boy only stared at him. Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled out Tori’s knife, glancing down at her name etched in the metal; she was much cooler about this shit than I am. Popping the blade, he laid down his threat, “Talk to me God damn it! Where’s my wife!?! Or I’m gonna slit your scrawny throat.”

  “He can’t talk if you slits his throat,” Enrique countered, prepared to inflict torture instead.

  “Shut up!” Michael bellowed, “Where do they take the girls?”

  The young man’s eyes glimmered with recognition, “You want the girls?”

  “Yes,” his voice dropped to a more comfortable level, “Where do they take the girls?”

  Standing, the boy scrounged for paper and a writing item, drawing a line, with numerous others coming off of it, like a tree branch. “That’s the tunnel,” Michael pointed at the map.

  “Si, Senor. Is the tunnel.” Pointing to the side tunnels, he marked one with a circle, “Girls go here.”

  Michael lifted the map, his pulse in his throat, “We can’t leave this kid here. He’ll run off and tell someone that we’re down there.”

  “You gonna kills him?” Enrique suggested in the form of a question.

  Michael stared at the brown eyes that were still as wide as saucers. He had been upset with his bride at how easily she had made the call. Now it was his turn. “We take him with us. He gives us any trouble, we slit his throat and leave him.” Grabbing the kid’s arm, he guided him to the bedroom and the closet that contained the trap door, “Go on, Enrique. We’ll put this guy between us.”

  Instead of following, the boy swung around, taking a swing at the man behind him. In a flash, Enrique had his blade open and took him down. “Next time, don’ hesitate,” he chided. “It’s thems or us, and I prefer thems.”

  “Yeah,” Michael agreed, “Let’s go see if he lied on his map.” Climbing back into the tunnel, he oriented the sheet of paper, and they retraced their steps, passing the one that led to the bar.

  To his surprise, he could hear the sound of the music above them. “Nice. Let’s hope he was telling the truth.” Counting the side passages as they passed them, they soon arrived at the correct one, guessing they had gone close to a mile from the previous location. Climbing up the miniature staircase, they arrived at another flat surface above them, this time the light around the cracks much brighter.

  Pausing, inhaling slowly, Michael could tell the structure above them was occupied, the sound of voices filtering through. Sliding down, he breathed quietly, “We have to go in. I’ll open the door to see if I can peek first. Hang back if you want, barge in if you think it will help.”

  “Sure thing, Mike,” Enrique held his position.

  Turning the clasp and pushing on the cover, Michael eased his head up, only moving enough to get his eyes above the level of the floor. Seeing only one man, with his back to him, he pushed the door on over, waving to the man behind him and entering the room with a small bound.

  Unleashing the knife with a crisp pop, he finished his target with a single motion, Enrique coming in behind him and surveying the space. The voices were coming from down the hall, and the pair moved quickly, spreading through the house and killing every man they found
.

  Arriving in the last room, they found a girl tied to a bed and gagged. Enrique’s heart froze at the sight of the sheets soaked in blood. His hands fumbled, grasping at the dark head of hair and pulling her face around to look into her crystal blue eyes. “It’s not her!” he screamed at the man who had begun cutting away her bindings.

  “What?” Michael looked over at him with wide eyes.

  Enrique ran his thumb under the smooth skin of her left cheek, “It isn’t her,” he breathed. Turning, he commanded, “Cuts her loose, and we’ll lets her go. We still have to find Tori, and this isn’t the right house.”

  Pulling the gag from her mouth, he soothed, “Sshhshsh. It’s gonna be ok. We’re gonna lets you go.” Unleashing his blade, he cut the thin rope that held her hands above her head, becoming aware that she wanted to speak. Leaning closer, he could barely make out her words.

  “Hey, Mike,” he breathed, “I think she knows where Tori is.”

  The girl’s blue eyes gleamed as she managed to form the words, “New girl.”

  “New girl,” Michael repeated, leaning across the bed from the far side, “Where’s the new girl?”

  “Raven tunnel,” she breathed.

  “Raven tunnel,” he repeated, hoping she would explain. Her face twisted in frozen agony, she said nothing more.

  “She’s gone, Mike,” Enrique informed him.

  “What? What do you mean gone?” Pushing himself up, he stared down at the unmoving features to see that her eyes were fixed and lifeless. “Oh, Jesus,” he fumed, “That’s all we get? Raven tunnel?!?”

  “Come on,” Enrique slapped him on the arm, “Let’s get back down below. I thinks I knows what it means.”

  Storming back through the house, Michael paused, staring at a set of oversized cages, oh my God! He had presumed they were for keeping animals when they entered, but he had a sinking feeling they were for something else. “Enrique!” he called sharply. Pointing at the prison when he had his attention, “I think they keep the girls in these. Call Eli again, make sure he gets this place on the list.”