by Diana Palmer
“Good for you,” Carson remarked. “Mendez is coming here, you say.”
“Yes, there is a whole convoy,” he chuckled. “Armor-plated vehicles, which no ammunition can pierce. Even bulletproof glass. My boss is very careful of potential attackers.”
“Smart.” Carson’s eyes twinkled. “An assassin would be stupid to try to shoot him, anyway.”
“I don’t know,” Mendez replied. “We know of a former government sniper across the border who might be tempted to try it.”
He meant Cash Grier. Carson didn’t say a word. But he was laughing inside.
“You can speak to my cousin personally,” Mendez promised Ruy. “And you will be well paid for your information.”
“I am grateful,” Ruy said.
Carson stood up tall from his lounging position. “Well, I need to stretch my legs. Is there a cantina in this town?”
“But of course, and there are women, as well,” Mendez said with a sarcastic smile. “It is at the foot of the hill, on the right.”
“I think I’ll go down and have a shot of tequila. And, maybe, sample the local goods,” he insinuated with a raised eyebrow at Mendez, who chuckled. “See you later, Ruy.”
“Yes, of course.”
Carson walked out, his easy, smooth stride not menacing at all. Yet.
* * *
“Where did you find this man?” Mendez asked Ruy, indicating the visitor who had just left.
“He has connections to our world, is all I know,” the other man replied. “And he is very dangerous.”
“Yes, that weapon he carries is impressive. Not as impressive as mine, however,” he laughed, smoothing his hand over the butt of his gun. “Now. Let us drink coffee and talk of pleasant things!”
Outside, Carson moved out of sight and reclaimed a backpack he’d concealed behind a building. There was only one road into Cotillo that was well-kept, and it cut across the barren country like a knife. The convoy would have to enter from it.
Carson walked around the buildings and out onto the roadway. It didn’t matter if he was seen. It would make no difference. Ruy would find some excuse to leave the mayor’s office and make his way to the border. He’d served his purpose with a diversion that gave Carson information and a chance to even the playing field of the drug lords by putting Pedro Mendez permanently out of business.
He moved off the road and waited. He had a fierce temper and he rarely smiled. But he was patient.
A few minutes later, the convoy came into sight in the distance. Carson had rigged a sort of ghillie suit out of netting and vegetation. It was invented by Scots sportsmen and borrowed by Highland soldiers. They were often seen in movies, and some hunters used them, but they weren’t in use in the military much anymore, not with the new computer-generated camouflage uniforms that blended with any landscape. But, then, Carson was ex-military. He had no uniform, but he was a trained sniper as well as a field medic. This time, a sniper kit would do him little good against all El Ladrón’s armor plating. But he had a few tricks up his sleeve, learned in missions for Eb Scott’s counterterrorism group. Those drug lords’ vehicles were very heavily armored, yes. But most people neglected to do the same job on the undercarriage...
* * *
The lead vehicle, the one containing Pedro Mendez, was easy to pick out because of its over-the-top gold and jewel fixtures. Even the rearview mirror was priceless. Pity, Carson thought, to destroy such wealth. But, then, this little monster tortured and killed innocents. That couldn’t be allowed. A message had to be sent. A warning.
Carson picked up three hand grenades. He pulled the pin on the first one and almost casually tossed it right in the path of the lead vehicle. He did the same on the next two.
Then he ran like hell....
* * *
Inside the mayor’s office, the explosions were so loud that they shook the building. “What the hell is that?” Charro exclaimed, shocked. “Come on! Jorge, did you hear that?”
Ruy walked out with them. “What could it be?” he asked with mock horror.
“Look!” Charro gasped as he spotted the wreckage of three armor-plated vehicles. “My cousin...!”
He started running toward the outskirts of town. Jorge followed. Ruy put his hands in his pockets, smiled thoughtfully and melted back into the population of the town, gathering quickly to see what the noise signified.
Charro recognized what was left of his cousin. Nobody in those vehicles was left alive.
“Pedro Mendez is dead,” he choked. “My cousin is dead!”
“Who could have done this?” Jorge exclaimed. “Only we knew that he was coming!”
“Only we?” Charro turned quickly. “Where is that man, that Ruy? And Carson...go to the cantina, see if he is there!”
“At once!”
Charro looked at the wreckage as the townspeople gathered in horror around him.
“He is dead!” one of the men whispered. “The leader of the cartel is dead!”
“No,” Charro said at once, straightening. He turned to the people. “I am now leader of the cartel.”
Nobody argued.
One man bowed. “As you say, patrón,” he said quietly. “Congratulations on your new job.”
Charro smiled. He felt taller already.
Jorge came back very soon, brooding. “I cannot find either one of them. The bartender said that no American had even been in the cantina.”
Charro felt sick. “Those Americans. They did this!”
“I fear they did,” Jorge said. “What can we do now?”
Charro’s eyes narrowed. “We will kill El Jefe’s daughter and send him the video. I will go myself. You will go with me!”
Jorge swallowed, hard. “Couldn’t Lido go instead? He is very good at torture.”
Charro thought about that for a minute. “All right,” he said. “Go and fetch him. And have someone take care of the bodies and arrange the funerals.”
“Yes, patrón.”
Charro thought of the American female. He had seen photos of her. She was quite lovely. He pursed his lips. He would enjoy her for the cameras, and then slit her throat. El Jefe would pay for his arrogance, for killing Pedro Mendez. Charro would see to it personally.
Chapter 15
Hayes and Minette had awakened from a brief nap, both shivering with the cold. It was a long time since Pepito had left them. Neither of them expected him to return. They were resigned to the fact that he’d sold them out.
“I wonder what that explosion was all about,” Hayes murmured.
“Maybe a gas tank blew up,” Minette mused.
“It sounded like a grenade,” he said quietly. “In fact, like several grenades.”
She glanced up at him. “We’ll probably never know,” she said heavily. She pulled the blankets closer around them. “Well, in a few hours it will be daylight. Then we can start walking again....
The sound of footsteps was loud in the darkness. Sudden movement caught Minette’s attention. Instinctively she grabbed the rifle and shouldered it. Hayes would hardly have been able to lift it, she knew, with his shoulder in such bad shape.
“Señores, do not fire, it is me, Pepito!”
She clutched the rifle, waiting with breathless fear to see if he was alone.
He walked into the camp with an armload of wood.
“I am sorry it took so long,” he told her. “I had to go very far to find the sort of wood that would make a smokeless fire. Mesquite trees are sparse around here. The Americans covet the wood for their, how do you say, barbecues. So the trees are sold and now they diminish by the year. It is very sad.”
“Thanks, Pepito. For not selling us out,” Minette said with honest gratitude.
“I gave you my word,” he replied and managed a smile, his white teeth showing in the darkness. “I would never break it.”
“So we have wood, thanks to you,” Minette replied. “Now all we need is a match!”
“Perhaps I could help you with that
,” came a deep, slow voice from the darkness just beyond the overhang.
Minette clutched the rifle. She felt Hayes sit up, tensely, beside her. Pepito froze in place. They waited.
As the occupants of the camp held their collective breath, a familiar tall man with long black hair walked softly into the camp. Hayes remembered him from the argument back at Minette’s house.
He felt around his jeans pockets. “Well, maybe not. I’m all out of hand grenades.” He grinned, his teeth white in the darkness.
“You can’t start a fire with a hand grenade,” Hayes exclaimed.
“Sure you can. You just have to stand way back while you throw it into a woodpile.” He glanced at Pepito. “You could ask your big boss, El Ladrón, how effective it is. I mean, if you could sew him back together again.” His face was hard as stone. “I’m sure Charro Mendez will take his place, now, but they’ll most likely be along soon to kill her.” He indicated Minette. He glanced at Pepito. “You, too, I’m afraid.”
Pepito crossed himself, fell to his knees and began to pray. “Gracias a Dios, gracias a Dios...”
“What?” Carson asked, nodding toward the man.
“The big boss had his wife and children hostage,” Minette explained. “They were going to torture and kill them if he stepped out of line.”
“Oh, no!” Pepito panicked, coming to a sudden realization. “Once it is known that Pedro Mendez is dead, they will kill mi familia!” he wept.
Carson motioned and four men came into the camp. One looked very much like Pepito.
“They won’t kill your family. Tell him—” he indicated their Hispanic companion “—where they are,” he told the prisoner.
“You would save them?” Pepito exclaimed. “I would do anything...!”
“Just talk to him. We’re running out of time.”
“Yes. Yes. Thank you!”
Carson turned to the two people huddled under the rock. He went down on one knee and pulled out a pack. He noted Hayes’s gritted teeth. “Coltrain said you’d be in some pain. I’ve got something for that.”
“If I take anything I won’t be able to walk,” Hayes replied with a weary smile. “I’ll manage.”
“I’m a field medic. Don’t argue.” Carson administered an injection. “Any fever, other symptoms?”
Hayes shook his head. “Can you press a hundred and eighty five pounds?” he asked.
“Guess I could,” Carson replied. “Why?”
“Because that’s how much I weigh and I’m not going to be able to walk if I’m sedated.”
Carson smiled grimly at him. “Not a problem. Miss Raynor, are you all right?” he asked her.
She frowned. “Well, actually, I do think I have a hangnail...”
Carson made a face.
“Watch out for her,” Hayes advised. “She’s hell on wheels with an AK. She rescued us. All by herself.” He grinned from ear to ear.
“Yes, well, about that,” she said sheepishly. She produced the AK-47 and handed it to Carson sideways with a wry grin. “I actually don’t know if it’s loaded or if the safety’s on....”
“What the hell...you bluffed?” Hayes exclaimed.
She swallowed. “Well, I couldn’t actually take the time to check, if you know what I mean. Pepito might have noticed that I couldn’t fire the damned thing.”
Hayes burst out laughing and held out an arm. She went under it and clung to him.
“I’m never playing poker with you,” he told her, and kissed her.
She grinned up at him. “Good idea.”
Carson just shook his head. “In case you wondered, it is loaded and the safety’s off.”
“Too much information,” she told him. “I don’t want to know.” She shivered. “I hate guns.”
“You have to learn to tolerate them, though,” Hayes told her. “A sheriff’s wife has to conform a little bit.”
“You marrying him?” Carson asked her.
“Apparently,” she laughed.
He shrugged. “I’m not coming to the wedding.”
“Wait until you’re invited, to refuse,” she replied.
“Not coming anyway.”
She laughed. “Okay. But thank you for saving us.”
“I thought you already did that,” he replied and his dark eyes smiled at her. “Saved yourself and him.”
“I just got us out of captivity. It’s still a long way to the border. We were lost.”
“Not anymore.”
“I still can’t walk much farther,” Hayes had to admit, although it hurt his pride.
“No worries, I told you.” He held up a hand and made a circular motion with it. A flare lit up the night. Seconds later, the sound of a huge helicopter was heard as it approached. “See?” he added to Hayes, and laughed.
* * *
They arrived back at Minette’s house exhausted, to be met with tearful, anxious faces when they walked inside. The children grabbed first Minette, then Hayes, sobbing the whole time. Aunt Sarah managed to get a hug in, wiping her eyes, as well.
Two men sitting in the living room got up and came to meet them. Garon Grier and Rodrigo Ramirez smiled.
“Glad you made it out,” Rodrigo told them. “We were just leaving town after a fruitless discussion with the mayor of Cotillo when somebody—” he looked past them at Carson, who was standing just inside the doorway “—apparently tossed a hand grenade right into a convoy of high-level drug lords.”
“Slight correction.” Carson held up a finger. “It was three hand grenades, not one.”
“We have no idea who did it, of course,” Ramirez continued with a glare. “If we did, we’d probably have him hanged.”
“If you did,” Carson replied, unperturbed, “a few of his friends might have something to say to my first cousin’s husband.”
“Your cousin’s husband?” Garon Grier asked.
“Yes. He’s the senior senator from South Dakota.” Carson smiled blithely.
Grier actually groaned. “He’s on the committee that has to approve our budget requests.”
“Ours, too,” Ramirez said with a grimace.
“So, can we call that a standoff?” Carson inquired.
Grier threw up his hands and turned away.
“We were going to do everything in our power to gain your release,” Rodrigo told Minette. “I had to telephone my cousin to get us into Mexico past a border guard.”
“Your cousin?” Hayes asked.
He nodded. “He was president of Mexico until the recent election.”
Carson glared at him. “Name-dropping. Very uncouth.”
Ramirez actually grinned.
“We were on our way out of town, to call in our negotiators to deal with the mayor,” Grier added, “when the convoy blew up.”
“But the wheels of government turn slowly,” Ramirez added.
“Too slowly for some of us,” Carson interjected.
“You’re lucky not to be on your way to federal prison,” Grier said shortly.
Carson made a face at him.
“Come on, guys, I believe in the rule of law as much as you do,” Hayes added. “But in this case, Minette would have been long dead before diplomacy did its work. And so would I.”
“I have to agree,” Ramirez said quietly. “I owe my life to one of your colleagues,” he added to Carson, “having suffered a kidnapping myself some years ago.”
“Which brings us to the point of our visit,” Grier replied. “I believe you have some information about a DEA agent who might be working with the cartel across the border.”
Hayes nodded. “I was on my way to meet with the computer tech when they grabbed us. But he had the computer and had just accessed the hard drive...why are you looking at me like that?” he added, frowning.
Ramirez sighed. “We were hoping he’d told you something.”
“No. But he was at my office...” Hayes continued.
“We found him about an hour ago,” Grier interrupted solemnly. “In
a ditch.”
“What?” Carson exploded.
“He was tortured and killed,” Grier continued. “And the computer was taken, as well.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” Hayes exclaimed. “God!”
“He was a good man,” Carson said through his teeth.
“We’ll find who did it. I swear we will,” Hayes promised him. “In the meantime,” he added, “thanks. For getting us out.” He held out his hand. Carson shook it. “If I can ever do anything for you, well, anything legally,” he added with a wry smile, “I promise to do my best.”
“You can find who did that to Joey,” Carson replied. “Not that we won’t be looking, as well.” He held up his hand when Hayes and the others started to protest. “No hand grenades. I swear.”
They nodded.
“At least, not on this side of the border,” Carson said under his breath.
* * *
The excitement was over. Hayes was saddened by the death of the young computer whiz, but so happy to have Minette safe and home again. Her father had called, overjoyed at her rescue.
“I was dubious about the man’s offer of help,” he confessed to Minette on the speakerphone, “but obviously he knew what he was about. I will give him anything he wants, for the rest of his life, for saving you. Also, that man Pepito, he is now working for me. Doing something legal, niña, I swear it,” he added quickly. “His family lives in this country now, on my rancho. I am teaching Pepito how to work with horses. I think he will be a natural.”
“The man will try again, won’t he?” Minette asked sadly. “To kidnap me, to kill Hayes...”
“Oh, you mean El Ladrón?” El Jefe was honestly surprised. “They did not tell you?”
“Tell me what?” she asked, exchanging puzzled glances with Hayes.
“El Ladrón was so excited about your capture that he wished to see you tortured,” he said grimly. “So he and his lieutenant were in the convoy that was on its way to the mayor’s office. Someone, I cannot think who, lobbed a hand grenade into his SUV.”