Maria Elizondo’s hands tore at the lock, trying to get it open so that she could escape with her life. She’d never dreamed that the security system that had been installed to keep madmen out could actually trap her inside with one.
“Oh, please,” she begged to God. “Oh, please, oh please.”
Between the sound of her own cries and the pounding of blood in her ears, she heard nothing at all. Her only reality was terror. The certainty of her death.
When the hand came down on her shoulder, then, she screamed and whirled around for her last fight.
Her attacker was shorter than she’d expected. And lighter.
And female.
“Maria, stop!” the woman insisted. Her tone and her gestures told Maria that she’d been saying those words over and over, but Maria had not been hearing them
“It’s me,” the woman said. “It’s Veronica. You’re all right. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Realization-and reason-came slowly. How was this possible? “How did you get in here?” Maria asked.
Veronica placed her hands on both of Maria’s shoulders. It was a gesture designed to calm her. “That’s not important,” she said.
Are you insane? “Do not tell me that it is not important,” Maria yelled. “You are in my home!”
“I am here to help you,” Veronica said. She wore her dark hair long, and tied with what looked like a decorative rubber band in the back.
“You are in my home!” Maria insisted. Whatever else was happening, whatever power the Federal Bureau of Investigation might have, this was an important point. Despite the stakes and the danger-despite the fact that Veronica was the very person Maria had been hoping to see-she needed to acknowledge that this was Maria’s home. It was a private place, and Veronica had no right being here.
“Your escape tunnel works both ways,” Veronica said.
Maria’s jaw dropped. “What escape tunnel? I don’t have an escape tunnel.”
Veronica looked confused. “Are you serious?”
“What escape tunnel?” Maria asked again.
“That panel in your bathroom. Under the sink. Did you really not know that it was there?”
Maria felt a sense of dread washing over her. “Where does it lead?”
“To a storm sewer behind your house. How could you not know it was there?”
Maria pushed past Veronica into the living room. “Felix,” she said. Now it was all so obvious. She dropped onto the sofa. “He put in the security for me. The locks, the walls, everything.”
Veronica sat next to her. This sofa, like everything else in her house, had been purchased with her own money, and it had been cleaned and maintained by her own hands. It was a point of great pride that she had refused every offer from Felix to furnish the place and staff it with a housekeeper. It was one thing to sleep with the man she hoped one day to kill, but it was something else entirely to have things of his nearby when she was alone.
Veronica asked, “Why put in a tunnel and not tell you?”
Maria looked at her, waiting for her to get in on her own. “It wasn’t about me getting out,” Maria said, finally. “It was about him getting in.” She brought her hand to her head, as if taking her own temperature. “You need to get me out, Veronica. Felix knows-”
Veronica’s face lost some of its color as she raised her hand and gently placed two fingers over Maria’s lips for silence.
Veronica sifted through the accumulated papers and magazines on the coffee table, searching for something.
“What are you looking for?”
“The remote control for your television.”
“Why?”
“I want to watch it,” Veronica said, but her face said, Give me the damn remote control.
Maria reached behind a throw pillow. She found the remote and handed it over.
Veronica thumbed the television to life, and then cranked up the volume.
Maria brought her hands to her ears. “What are you-”
Veronica held up a hand to silence her, and then sat on the sofa, pulling Maria down with her. “If they have access to your home,” she said softly, “you have to assume that they’ve installed listening devices.”
That sense of indignant horror returned, hitting her like a punch to the stomach. “This is my home,” Maria said again.
“Not for long,” Veronica said. “Tell me what Felix knows.”
“Everything, I think. He knows that someone close to him is feeding information to the Americans. He hasn’t traced it to me yet, but I know he suspects. He all but accused me today.”
“If he thought you had betrayed him, you wouldn’t be here right now,” Veronica said.
“I took the offensive,” Maria explained. “I got angry at him that he could even think such a thing, and I stormed out. He didn’t stop me because he was too startled. I can’t go back.”
“You won’t have to,” Veronica said. “You’re getting out tonight.”
Maria stood. “I’m ready.”
Veronica pulled her back down. “Not now. Later tonight. In a few hours.”
“I can’t wait a few hours. You said that Felix is listening. I never listen to the television this loud. That alone will tell him that something is wrong. Besides, he already heard you-”
“No,” Veronica said, cutting her off. “I doubt that anyone listens in real time. If Felix is recording you, he’s recording many others, too. It’s not possible to listen to so many all at once. You should have enough time.”
“I should? Suppose I don’t?”
“I’m sorry, Maria, but that’s the best we can do.”
“Why do we have to wait? What will be different in a few hours?” It was so easy for American spies to tell others to be patient when the endangered lives weren’t their own.
Veronica took a few seconds to frame her answer. She put her hand on Maria’s. “Tell me that you were not bluffing about the smuggling tunnels,” she said.
The sudden change in subject startled her. “I don’t understand.”
“The smuggling tunnels,” Veronica said again. “The ones that you have been holding out as an incentive for me to get you out of Mexico. Are they real?”
“Of course they’re real.”
“Then tell me where they are.”
This wasn’t right. Something in Veronica’s eyes gave away a bad intent. The rules had been the same from the very beginning: Maria would reveal the location of the tunnels after she had crossed the border into the United States. It was her only bargaining chip, and she dared not squander it.
“There are many of them,” Maria said, stalling for time.
“How many?”
“Veronica, this is inappropriate. First you tell me that I cannot leave the country, and then you tell me that I have to wait a few more hours. Now you want the one piece of information that I will not give you. You know our rules.”
“Your cover’s been blown,” Veronica said flatly. “This is a new day, and it comes with new rules. Unless you tell me where they are, we will not be able to protect you as you use them.”
Her words launched a chill. “What do you mean, as I use them?”
As Veronica shared the details of the plan, Maria felt her life caving in on her. She was to wait for strangers to arrive, and then those strangers would get her out of the country. It all seemed unnecessarily complicated.
“I don’t understand,” Maria said after Veronica was finished. “Why can’t you just drive me across the border? For that matter, why can’t you just drive these other people across the border, too?”
Veronica gave her a long look before responding, “That’s very complicated.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” Veronica seemed to be struggling with what she could and could not say. “Let me put it to you this way,” she said. “What is happening here tonight is not officially sanctioned by the United States. In fact, if you are caught in the process, you will be on your own. At best, if you are caught by the police or the Army, you will be arrested. Obviously, if you are caught by Felix Hernandez’s men, you will be killed. For political reasons, I cannot provide you with any assistance until you are on the other side of the border.”
Maria’s head swam. “For political reasons? What does that even mean?”
“That’s the complicated part. These people you’ll be with are being hunted by the Mexican government as murderers. I’m told by my supervisors that they are innocent-that they are the victims of a conspiracy devised by Hernandez-but what is important to Hernandez is also important to the police. It is equally complicated on my side of the border, where the return of these people you’ll be meeting, and your testimony against Hernandez, will bring very bad news to some very powerful people.”
Maria listened intently, hoping that these details would start to make sense. Then, when they did, she wished that they didn’t. “So, when you say we’ll be on our own, what you really mean is that we’ll have no allies. None at all.”
Veronica’s face turned grim. “Exactly. Until you get to the other side. If you give me the address where the tunnel ends on the American side of the border, I can be there waiting for you. I can take you into protective custody and then we can sort it all out.”
This was impossible. The whole idea was impossible. Each of these tunnels was over a mile long, and they were more than mere passageways for the transfer of drugs from one side of the border to the other. They were guarded, and they contained stockpiles of materials. Maria had never visited them personally, but she’d heard from others that processing operations were performed inside some of the tunnels.
“No,” Maria said. “I won’t do it. This is suicide. I will take my chances with Felix.”
Veronica’s entire demeanor changed as her posture hardened. “You will do this, Maria. You must do this.”
“But you’re asking the impossible.”
“Everything is possible. These men who are coming will protect you. I’m told that they are very good at what they do. They will get you safely to the other side.”
“The murderers, you mean?” Maria laughed bitterly. “If my testimony is so important, then you drive me out of the country with dignity.”
Veronica leaned in close. “Understand this, Maria,” she said. “As much as I have come to like you over the years, and as important as your testimony is to our case against Felix Hernandez, these people you’ll be helping across the border are far more important to my boss. I don’t even know why, but that really doesn’t matter.”
Maria laughed again. This woman was bluffing. Ever since the beginning, the story had always been the same: Felix Hernandez was one of the most sought-after criminals in the United States. He’d killed federal agents, after all. There was no way-
“Lose that grin, Maria,” Veronica ordered. “I would prefer that you do this out of the love of the family members you’ve lost at Felix’s hand. I would prefer that you do it because it is the right thing to do. But if those motivations are not enough, understand that if you don’t do this, I will personally deliver your name to Felix Hernandez. You need to decide if it’s better to risk death by helping others, or face the certainty of death in one of Felix’s torture chambers.”
Maria felt suddenly nauseous. This woman next to her had always been so gentle, so accommodating. Could this monster with the blazing eyes be the same person? “You couldn’t do that to me,” she said.
“I could, and I will,” Veronica replied. “I’ve read reports that Felix can keep his enemies alive and in agony for weeks. They pray for death in the first moments, and the screaming never stops. Imagine how he would treat a woman who he thought was in love with him.”
Maria’s eyes burned as her heart pounded. “I hate you,” she choked.
“That’s fine,” Veronica said. “I need that address.”
The speed and power of the punch were unlike anything Tristan had ever seen. His burst of profanity had erupted out of nowhere. It was just so… startling.
Tristan marveled yet again at the dichotomy that was Scorpion. After that savage punch to the head, Scorpion moved quickly to catch the unconscious mechanic before he could hit the ground.
“He’ll be all right,” Scorpion said. “His jaw will be sore, and it’ll swell, but that’s what he wanted.”
“How do you know you didn’t break it?” Tristan asked.
“Because I didn’t feel it break. You can tell.”
After Scorpion laid Oscar on the ground, the Big Guy rolled the kid over onto his stomach, pulled his hands behind his back, and bound his wrists together with one of those ratcheting plastic ties you see cops using to arrest protesters.
Tristan just stood and watched as his rescuers moved on to the rest of their jobs. The Big Guy messed with the control surfaces of the airplane while Scorpion loaded stuff into the back of the plane. Their bulky backpacks went in first, followed by the other two rifles they’d taken from the dead Mexican soldiers.
The two of them moved with a precision that seemed to be practiced, though it wasn’t possible that they’d stolen a lot of airplanes together. Or maybe they had. Given the way the last few days had gone, absolutely nothing was out of the question anymore.
It was almost as if the two men thought each other’s thoughts. Tristan envied that kind of friendship.
Oscar stirred. Then he moaned miserably. Tristan went to him and kneeled by his side. “You okay?” He spoke at a whisper, but he had no idea why.
Oscar groaned, “Ungh. What did he hit me with?”
“His hand,” Tristan said. He tried to keep the admiration out of his voice. “Really, his hand. Not even his fist. You’ll be okay, though. Scorpion said your jaw didn’t break.”
Oscar moaned again, and his shoulders twitched as he tried to move his hands. “Handcuffs are a nice touch,” he said. “They’ll help sell the story.”
“What about your backpack with the money?” Tristan asked. “Do you want me to hide that somewhere for you?”
Oscar shook his head and winced. “Shit, it’s like my brain is bruised,” he said. “No, leave the backpack where it is. I always have it with me. If it was missing, they’d be suspicious.”
A shadow fell over them, and Tristan knew without looking that it was Scorpion. “Hey, kid,” he said. “Howya feeling?”
“Like you tried to kill me and missed,” Oscar said.
“Yeah, well, your face looks like hell,” Scorpion said. “In a half hour, I doubt that you’ll be able to see out of your left eye. Don’t worry about it when it happens. It’s just the swelling. I don’t think I broke anything, so if you can handle the headache, you shouldn’t need any medical time at all.”
It seemed like the appropriate time for Oscar to say thank you, but Tristan understood that that would have been weird.
“You ready to go?” Scorpion asked Tristan.
“Sure,” he said. As if any other answer was possible.
“All right, then,” Scorpion said. “Mount up.”
Tristan rose from his haunches and waited for a few seconds for Scorpion to come with him.
“You go ahead,” Scorpion said. “Give me a minute with Oscar.”
Tristan felt himself blush. He didn’t like being dismissed like that. What did Oscar do to deserve alone time? He realized that it was foolish to think such things. He should be champing at the bit just to get the hell out of here. It shouldn’t matter to him who Scorpion talked to or what he said when he did. Still, what made Oscar special?
He approached the airplane from the front, but stopped when he saw the Big Guy’s arm waving at him through the open cockpit window, motioning for him to go around the back side to get to the door that was on the opposite side-the right-hand side-of the airplane.
Readjusting the body armor for the thousandth time, Tristan followed directions. He’d only gone a few steps when the engine started to turn, and the propeller caught, launching a hurricane of dust and grass back at Tristan.
The inside of the airplane looked like the backseat of an old car that had been packed for a long vacation. Tristan’s seat was too small with all the shit they made him wear. He had difficulty getting his seat belt fastened. Up front, the Big Guy made the pilot seat and the controls look like they’d been designed for a child.
“Put your seat belt on,” the Big Guy instructed.
“Already done,” Tristan said. “How long a trip is this going to be?”
“A little over five hours. Call it five and a half. More, if the winds don’t cooperate.”
Tristan scowled as he remembered a previous conversation. “And how much fuel do we have?”
“Barely enough.”
Tristan considered letting it go, but in the end, he couldn’t. “Doesn’t that mean we’re going to run out?”
“That’s a possibility.”
“It’s a probability, isn’t it?”
The Big Guy caught Tristan’s eyes in the mirror. “The boss says we only tell the truth, so are you sure you want to hear it?”
No, he thought. “Yes,” he said.
“I give us a forty percent chance,” Big Guy said.
“Of landing or crashing?”
He responded with just a look.
“Oh,” Tristan said. “Shit.”
“Cheer up,” Big Guy said. “It ain’t worth doing if it ain’t exciting. And relax. It’s not like we have a better option.” He reached onto his lap and lifted his night vision goggles onto his head, with the eyepieces tilted up out of the way.
Off to the right, Scorpion arrived at the door and climbed in, closing it behind him. With only one door for everyone to climb in and out of, it took some maneuvering for him to make his way to the right front seat. All the weapons didn’t make it any easier. Once he’d settled, it took him maybe two seconds to read the mood in the plane. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“The kid asked about the fuel situation,” Big Guy said. “So, I told him the truth.”
Tristan thought he saw the boss’s jaw twitch, but it was gone in an instant.
“Oh,” Scorpion said. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”
The Big Guy reached forward with his right hand. The engine noise built to a crescendo, and they started to roll. “Thank you for flying Rescue Airways,” the pilot yelled over the noise. The runway, such as it was, was made of grass, and the plane bounced like an old stagecoach as it gained speed. Bright lights from the wings illuminated their path as they sped toward the line of trees that blocked the far end of the runway.
“Our cruising altitude this evening-if we ever get this piece of shit off the ground-will be about thirty feet, at a cruising speed of one hundred eighty knots.”
The wall of trees approached at an alarming rate, and as the plane moved faster, it didn’t seem to be getting any lighter. Without thinking, Tristan pressed himself deeper into his seat. Up front, he could see Scorpion doing the same thing.
It’s hard to judge distances at night, but on the approximate scale of close to very close, Tristan had them pegged at a distance of holy shit when the wheels finally lifted off the turf and they gained altitude.
As they closed to within holy freaking shit the trees still had more altitude than they did.
Just inches short of holy freaking shit, we’re all going to die, the plane finally found whatever it was that planes found to give them real altitude, and they were airborne.
For the better part of a minute, no one said anything.
The Big Guy broke the silence. “Okay,” he said. “That was exciting. Now, sit back and enjoy the flight.”