She put her hands on his head, yanked his lips to hers and kissed him hard. He pulled away, breathless, confused. “What the—”
“Shut up and kiss me back.” She whispered. “We’re being watched.”
****
When Angie’s lips met his, her head spun. Rock climbing had prepared her for tumbling down the side of a wall. But with that she had a partner to catch her. Now she was free-falling without any rope to catch her. Why did he have to go and tell her he loved her? Why couldn’t he have just kept it the way it was? They’d had a great sexual experience, a fling, and when it was all over, with any luck, she’d go home with Jake and cry her eyes out, because dammit, she was in love with him, too.
But no, he had to ruin everything, make her hope for more, and make her hate herself for falling in love with a drug dealer all over again. Only this time, he was even more dangerous and had scary friends, like the one watching them right now. She’d caught the big man out of the corner of her eye, noticed him just as Alejandro was about to reveal something to her. Whatever Alejandro had been about to tell her wasn’t for Tio’s ears, she knew that much. It had to be something terrible, but what? How could anything be worse than drug dealing and murder? Why did he have the sudden urge to spill his guts to her out here in the middle of the night just before they were about to launch the rescue effort? Wasn’t she already strung out enough?
His hands stroked her hair pulling her lips tighter, drawing her back into the moment. She trembled at his touch. Damn his wonderful lips and tongue. She wanted them both on her breasts and thighs, nuzzling, sucking, and nipping. As he nuzzled her neck she arched her back, leaned into the kiss, and moaned.
Her mind went blank and a voice boomed in her head: “Sometimes you need a deputy angel, sometimes you need a warrior, and sometimes you need both. See with your heart, not with your eyes.”
Angie gasped and knew without a doubt, that Alejandro was the one who would save her sanity, her soul, and her son.
Chapter Twenty
Holding the Chosen One on her hip, Miriam stood next to Zeke and watched the congregation stumble in. Midnight was the time this group of peaceful farmers and followers would normally be in bed, resting up for the next day’s work. Couples whose marriages had been dissolved when they joined the community stood shoulder to shoulder and held hands.
Well, that wouldn’t do at all.
When this emergency was over, they’d be disciplined. But right now, they were about to be attacked by infidels, and her husband had better come up with some inspirational words.
“Father, talk to our people, tell them about your vision from the Lord.”
She had written the speech for him. He’d better get it right.
Zeke’s eyes rolled up to the heavens, and he clutched the side of his head. Nice touch. Show them his moment with the Lord. A few more beats and a murmur of concern began to roll over the crowd.
She turned and smiled at the crowd.
“Fear not.” Under her breath she said, “They’re getting impatient.”
He didn’t respond. His hands shook, and he rocked back and forth. Enough with the theatrics. Time to get on with the show. The natives were restless.
“Father?”
Why wasn’t he talking? What was wrong with him? For one horrifying moment, she thought he was having stroke. His eyes flew open, and he raised his hands in the priestly way.
“I’ve had counsel from the Lord. He has spoken.”
Her heart leaped, and she gave a huge gasp of relief. Ever the showman, her husband had managed to surprise even her.
Eyes wide, voice low, Zeke began the well-rehearsed speech. “The Lord said he that overcomes, and keeps my works unto the end, shall rule the world. The Lord promised us the morning star.”
Thrilled to hear him intone the words she had selected and transcribed, she stood transfixed by his voice.
He took a deep shuddering breath and his voice rose. “The Philistines are coming. They envy us our flocks, our crops, our Chosen One. The heathens sharpen their axes and prepare to cut us down as we sleep. The Lord says we must prepare for the coming attack and be strong. We cannot lose.”
Women in the audience sobbed, and men flicked tears off their cheeks. Miriam had never loved her husband more than she did now. Once again, his green eyes blazed, and his voice swelled with confidence and enthusiasm. The man was on fire.
His voice boomed and echoed in the large chamber. “We will not allow our women to be sold into the hands of the Philistines. We will fight to the death, if needs be. Be with the Philistines so we can smite you on the battlefield and burn your bodies as you lay dying.”
Tears filled Miriam’s eyes. She particularly liked her last line about burning people alive.
“Who amongst you is with me?”
Cheering, foot stomping, and whistling erupted into a deafening roar.
“Who amongst you is with the Philistines?”
The crowd responded with hissing and booing.
“Brother Aaron, come forward.” Zeke pointed at the still bruised and gaunt man.
That wasn’t on the script. What was Father doing?
The engineer glanced around, a frown on his face.
“Yes, yes, come here.” Zeke grinned and waved the man up the stairs.
Brother Aaron took a few halting steps toward the throne. Men slapped him on the back and women urged him forward. At last he stood alongside Father.
“Mother, give me the Chosen One.”
What was he doing? This was totally unscripted and she didn’t like it one bit. She handed over the wide-awake, kicking child.
“Look at the babe,” Zeke chortled and held him up high. “He’s excited, too.”
“Brother Aaron,” Zeke intoned. “We are entering into war. Anything can happen. I could be killed.”
The crowd cried out, “No, no, no.”
Where was the old fool going with this?
“In the event of my death, the community will need a designated leader.”
Yes, they would. She was here to receive that honor. Her acceptance speech would be brief. She’d be humbled by the honor, ready to be a servant leader to take on this important role. She lowered her head, closed her eyes, and waited for the announcement.
Zeke took a deep breath. “I do hereby anoint you, Brother Aaron as the Leader of our congregation.”
Her eyes flew open.
What? How dare he?
She was going to have words with Zeke—later, when they were alone.
Jake wailed, and the old man smiled and pulled him close to his chest. Zeke placed two fingers over the child’s mouth and whispered, “Don’t steal the show.”
The baby chomped on the old man’s finger. Zeke yelped and yanked his hand away.
In a trice, Brother Aaron snatched the child out of the air as he fell out of Zeke’s grasp. Applause broke out.
Blood ran down Father’s arm. “No worry,” he gave a forced laugh. “It’s just a flesh wound.” He took Miriam’s proffered handkerchief and whispered, “When did he get teeth?”
She whispered back, “He’s had them for awhile. Fat lot you know about your grandson.”
The crowd visibly relaxed, but Miriam fumed. That’s what the old man got for screwing things up. The child knew better, why didn’t the stupid old goat? The kid would be biting Brother Aaron next.
The engineer and heir apparent smiled and bounced Jake in his arms. The child cooed. Then to Miriam’s horror, the baby placed his little hands on the big man’s gaunt cheeks and began to pat them. Brother Aaron’s pallid face turned pink, and his bruises began to fade.
The Chosen One was blessing Brother Aaron?
The final blow. She turned her face away. Disgraced first by her husband, and now by the Chosen One, hot tears of humiliation ran down her cheeks. This was not the way things were supposed to go. She was supposed to be the designated one in charge, not the traitorous Brother Aaron.
Rage simmered wi
thin. Armed like all the others, Miriam clenched her fist around the handgun in her pocket. She could shoot both men right now, but the timing was bad. She took her hand out of her pocket, smoothed her skirt, and forced herself to appear calm in front of the adoring crowd. Timing was everything. Right now she couldn’t fix things. But, in the not too distant future, one way or another, she was going to find a way to make things right.
****
Shortly after midnight, Alejandro gazed over the floor of the valley outside the little cabin. Right now, the US-Mexico task force was busy on the west coast of Mexico. Per instructions, he’d placed his beer and tequila orders at El Hombre Loco using the latitude and longitude of the competitor cartel’s departure city. To indicate the presence of the fleet, Alejandro had also ordered ten bottles of whisky for “depth charges” the code word for drug subs.
He could have sworn he heard a gasp on the other end of the line, but perhaps he’d only imagined his handler’s reaction. Right now, if all had gone well, the US and Mexican police and military cooperative task force would be making one of the biggest drug busts in history. No doubt, his handler and his handler’s boss would receive awards and promotions. Best of all, they were far away from Edmondsville.
Lit by the headlamps on the ATVs and MUVs, the assembled troops resembled bug-eyed monsters ready to roar to life. The Tarahumarans had a head start. With their foot speed, they should be close to the base of the mountain, if not already there. The plan was simple—divide and conquer. As the Mexicans swarmed the outside of the mountain, the Indians would lead Alejandro and Angie through the mountain. He knew the tunnels could be tricky and hoped he had packed sufficient rock-climbing gear if they encountered any steep ascents. The scouts who had survived the attack were physically smaller than Alejandro and Angie. He prayed the passages would be wide enough to accommodate them. Otherwise, they’d have to go to the back-up plan—climbing up the steep side of the cliff.
With his voice already hoarse from speaking, he shouted out one last command. “Remember, this is a rescue mission. The lives of innocent women and children depend on you. Shoot only if you are shot at.”
Sister Teresa shouted a blessing in Spanish, then in English. “May God bring everyone home safely.” She turned to Alejandro. “Even the worst person has the breath of the Lord in him.” She nodded in Isabel’s direction. “Or her. God be with all of you.”
Angie squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”
The thought of her at his side encouraged and terrified him. If anything happened to Angie or Jake, he’d never forgive himself. He had to protect her and her child, at all costs. Tio had made it clear on several occasions that he wanted Angie. He was certain the giant had overheard him confess his love to Angie. The big man acted as if they were buddies, but information was power, and Tio was relentless when he wanted something or someone.
“I know.” He pulled on his helmet. “Let’s ride.”
He snapped the visor in place and turned the key in the ignition. At his signal, two dozen ATVs and MUVs roared into life. The noise prevented any conversation. As the MUV jounced over the rocks, the moonlight revealed a gnarly trail pocked with holes, boulders, and pine trees. Even with shock absorbers on the vehicles, when this run was over they’d all be two inches shorter. He knew the lookouts for the cult would hear their arrival. He hoped the sound of a thousand giant lawnmowers in the night would make it seem as if they had three thousand men, rather than just three dozen—to strike fear into their hearts. If they had any sense, they’d hand over the girls and the baby. But based on what he knew of these zealots so far, he doubted that would ever happen. Right now, he had to focus on getting there and put the pedal to the metal.
****
As the night sky changed from black to light gray striped with rosebud pink, Angie clung to the side of the vehicle and thought about her son. He’d been just a year old when he’d been snatched out of her life. Now he was fifteen months old, a toddler. How big was he? Were his eyes still green, or had they turned brown like the pediatrician had predicted? Was he eating solid food? Was he healthy? Would he recognize her? The thought of him not knowing her made her chest hurt. Bad enough her parents had stolen him from her. But if they had also stolen his memories, she would kill them with her own hands. She wanted to confront them both, force them to admit all the horrors they’d thrust upon her. The litany was a long one—isolating her on the farm, not allowing her to have friends outside of the cult, killing Janice. Her father had stolen her innocence; her mother had stolen her trust. The beatings and starvation were nothing compared to the sexual and emotional abuse she had endured. Stealing her son, not once, but twice, had been the crowning blow.
Angie wanted to force them to confess their sins and to beg her forgiveness. She would be the judge and jury. If they threw themselves at her mercy, then maybe, just maybe she might consider telling Alejandro to spare their lives. She shook her head and ordered herself to stop obsessing. She’d deal with it when and if the time came. She had other worries. Like Tio.
Why had he followed Alejandro and her to the stream? She wondered how much he had heard. She knew the big man had the hots for her. She’d seen it in his eyes the first time she’d met him. Unlike Alejandro, Tio had stared at her exposed breasts that day in the police station. Every time she ran into him, he gazed at her tits as if they were still bare. After the incident on the shooting range, he’d come up behind her in the hallway, grabbed her by the waist, and pushed his erection into her butt. Then he’d whispered to her that he wanted to suck on her nipples like lollipops. She’d avoided being alone with him after that, but Angie still felt naked when she was around him.
Despite being very direct with Tio, he had never stopped hinting that that he wanted to have sex with her anytime, anywhere. She needed the big man’s help, didn’t want to piss him off, but if he heard her confessions about her addictions, he’d be sure to use that against her. She shuddered. The thought of him touching her made her want to take a bath. He was dangerous and persistent. If Tio got to Jake before they did, he might use the child as a bargaining chip. He knew she’d do anything, including having sex with him, to save her child’s life and get him back safely.
Just then gravel and clods of dirt flew up around the MUV. Alejandro struggled to keep control of the vehicle and managed to get it behind a large outcropping of rocks. The sudden silence in the desert night was deafening. Angie strained to hear something, anything.
A spray of bullets hit the boulder closest to them raining rocks down on their helmets.
They were under fire.
And at least a mile away from the base of the mountain.
Chapter Twenty-One
Miriam walked behind Zeke into the bedroom and slammed the door. He whirled and gaped at her. The last time she’d seen that look on his face was right after she beat Janice to death with a shovel. Good. The handgun in her pocket, while not as satisfying a tool as a shovel, would take care of this matter—just as soon as he announced his mistake.
She spoke through clenched teeth, tried to keep her voice low so the hard of hearing Sister Rose and the sleeping child wouldn’t wake up.
“How dare you anoint Aaron as your successor?”
Zeke’s eyes darted around the room. “He’s a good man. Smart. People look up to him.”
“He’s a traitor. You said so yourself.”
“He didn’t drug me. He and his wife were locked up the last time I had a strange vision.” Zeke looked abashed. “I was wrong to accuse him.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re wrong about.” Deep in the folds of her skirt, the pistol felt warm and reassuring. One shot. That was all she needed. “Did you forget you promised to make me the next leader?”
He shook his head. “Miriam, please. Don’t be silly.”
“Silly? You think I’m silly?” She sneered. “Who’s the man who runs away screaming and crying like a baby when I serve him fresh wom
en on a silver platter?”
“That’s not fair.” Color rose in his face. “Someone drugged me.”
“There aren’t any drugs.” She took two steps closer to him. “Whatever decisions you make are the ravings of a madman.”
“You go too far. You’re a woman, the weaker vessel. No man would ever follow you.” He raised his fist. “You need to be taught a lesson.”
Shaking with rage, she yanked the weapon out of her pocket, locked both hands around the grip, and pointed it straight at his chest.
“You like this decision, old man? I made it all by myself.”
Ashen-faced, he stared at the pistol.
“Surprised? You shouldn’t be. You told the head of security to arm everyone so they could fight the heathens.”
“Miriam.” Perspiration gleamed on his forehead. “Don’t do this.”
The smell of acrid sweat filled the small space. He really was afraid of her. Good. He’d made her beg for mercy for so many years, it was about time he had the pleasure.
“Get on your knees.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me.” She poked him with the gun. “Grovel. Beg for my forgiveness.”
He knelt and clasped his hands.
“I beg of you. Don’t shoot me.”
She chuckled. “Don’t worry. First you’re going to tell everyone you made a mistake. What was the word you used? Oh, yes. You were wrong.”
He sniffled and tears ran down his wrinkled cheeks.
“You think you may have Alzheimer’s. Your judgment is impaired. Brother Aaron isn’t the heir to your big throne. It’s your wonderful wife and help-mate, the woman who knows everything about the congregation.”
He bowed his head and sighed. “Yes, I will do it. But—”
“But what?”
“Didn’t you hear the gunshots? I came down here to make sure you and the baby were safe.”
“You came down here to hide. You’re good at that.” She pointed at the door with the gun. “Okay, fine. Get up.”
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