Above The Law

CHAPTER 75

CASEY WAITED FOR JOSe TO GET OUT FIRST, THEN SHE FOLLOWED.

Casey wrinkled her nose, smelling the cows, and noticing that the numbers on the row of unpainted metal doors had been added as an afterthought in black Magic Marker. Quiet filled the air except for the wretched drone of the window-mounted air conditioner on the end unit. The air conditioner dripped down the wall beneath the window and left a damp moldy spot on the fresh concrete stoop.

Casey touched the back of Jose's elbow as they approached the open door. With no more than fifteen feet to go, Jose suddenly stopped and put up his hand.

Without warning, six men wearing black bulletproof vests piled out of the room, the last of them dragging Isodora along by the collar of her white cotton dress. She cringed and clasped her crying child to her chest with both arms. The men quickly circled Jose and Casey with handguns by their sides. Dressed in black with close-cropped hair, not one wore an expression on his face behind his sunglasses.

One of them, a man with a red crew cut and the apparent leader, stepped forward and nodded at the men behind Jose and Casey. Two of them grabbed Jose by the arms, kicked his legs out from under him, frisked him, and removed both the Glock from under his arm and the smaller snub-nosed.38 from the back of his pants.

The men tossed the guns to the leader, who caught them smoothly and quickly emptied the Glock of its bullets before tossing it aside. He dangled the nickel-plated.38 by the trigger guard and said, "I used the other one just like this to put a bullet in that old lady's head. They said she was your aunt."

Jose growled and launched himself at the man, only to be yanked back to his knees by his two captors, one of them twisting his arm and snapping the bone at the elbow. Jose screamed and Casey watched him shudder as he struggled to breathe and control the pain.

Then one of the men stepped behind her, wrapping an arm around her throat, kicking the backs of her knees, and propelling her to the dirt as well. The man with Isodora did the same, bringing her to her knees so that the three of them looked like a small prayer group with Isodora still clutching the crying child.

The leader stepped forward. As he pointed the.38 at Jose's temple, he turned his face toward Casey and said, "Before we end this and bury your bodies in the desert, the senator wanted me to tell you that he knew from the start you'd get down on your knees for him, one way or another."

Jose tried to twist free, but couldn't.

"Too bad he'll never get the message," Casey said. "You shoot him and you won't make it out of here alive."

The leader's lips curled into a sneering smile. "I'm ready, baby, give it your best shot."

"I know you are, shithead," Casey said.

The leader clicked back the hammer on the gleaming.38. He laughed at her.

"You're dead," Jose said. "Look at your chest."

"Boss," the man holding Isodora said, pointing at the base of the leader's neck and then at the red dot in the center of his own nose. "Wait."

The leader dipped his chin just a touch. The two small red laser dots on his neck zigzagged, crossing each other.

The leader tore the sunglasses from his face, exposing a set of pale green eyes.

"Go ahead, baby," he said. "I die, your friend dies."

"Just walk away, shithead," Casey said. "No one has to get hurt."

"Call off your shooters," the leader said, his eyes still locked on hers.

Casey shook her head. "We're not the ones who went back on the deal. You drop first."

The leader stared, then his eyes left hers, flicking from man to man, seeing the red dots. Slowly, he raised his hands up into the air.

Casey held a hand up, signaling the snipers not to fire. The man holding her relaxed his arm and stepped away. The leader angled his head toward the truck, signaling his men to move. They backed away and slipped into the SUV, fired up its engine, and spun wheels in a clatter of stones as it shot across the parking lot, heading for the highway.

Casey took a long breath.

From beyond the chicken shack, two men emerged walking with slow careful steps, their sniper rifles raised and aimed at the retreating vehicle, their cheeks pressed tight to the guns' stocks, eyes riveted to their scopes.

They both wore black cowboy hats.

Jose gripped her shoulder and asked if she was all right.

"You're the one who's hurt," she said.

Jose glanced down at the arm he held tight to his body. "A scratch."

They turned toward Isodora, who stood crying and stroking her baby's hair. The little girl continued to scream.

Casey spotted a wiry Mexican striding out from around the corner of the motel, smiling broadly, exposing an elaborate grill of gold. Two more riflemen accompanied him. His thumbs were hooked into the belt loops of his pants on either side of a belt buckle the size of a salad plate. His black hat rested at a jaunty angle on his head.

"Flaco," Jose said.

"Hey, amigo," Flaco said, tipping his hat to Casey. "Senorita."

"You won't mind if we don't stick around?" Jose asked.

"I left two men in the water tower in case they change their minds," Flaco said with a heavy accent. "But I wouldn't hang around if I was you, either. They got a lot more where those gringos came from."

Casey led Isodora with her baby down the length of the motel, helping them into the back of the Mercedes, the child finally growing quiet. Jose leaned into the backseat and spoke Spanish back and forth with Isodora before he shut the door.

"Is she okay?" Casey asked, nodding at Isodora.

"You bet,'' Jose said, smiling.

"Are you?" Casey asked, nodding at his elbow.

Jose looked down at his arm. "I said it's a scratch. You want me to cry?"

Casey touched his cheek, then climbed into the driver's seat.

Flaco leaned in through her open window.

"Next exit down," Flaco said, pointing out at the highway. "I got two trucks with men to make sure you get to the border."

"Thank you," Casey said, nodding and starting up the old Mercedes.

Casey backed out.

"No more markers," Flaco said, walking alongside the car and talking through the window to Jose. "Not even for a friend."

"We're clear," Jose said.

Casey looked over at Jose. He winked at her and she put the car into drive and stepped on the gas, leaving the desert motel behind them in a swirl of dust.