The Beasts of Juarez

by R. B. Schow

  “Sounds, good,” Scotty said.

  “How important is it that you chase that last lead?” Leopold asked.

  “Hard to say,” Scotty said. “I think if we pull enough threads here, we may find something to go on. It’s loose though, mostly us hunting and hoping.”

  He nodded his head and said, “Thanks, Scotty. Do you have anything in the pipeline outside of this job?”

  “Honestly, not really.”

  “Okay, then,” Leopold said. “I may or may not have you jump back on this. I haven’t decided yet. But if I put you back to work right away, it will be for the duration.”

  “That would be good, sir. It really sucks not being able to get closure. She may be Atlas’s little girl, but she’s starting to feel like ours as well.”

  “I have been feeling the same thing,” Leopold said. “I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

  “Thanks, Boss.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  ATLAS HARGROVE

  Atlas used what Zoey had remembered about the street signs to hone in on a rough location. It took a little driving around, but eventually Zoey got them to the warehouse where she and Maisie had been forced to work.

  “Are you ready?” Atlas asked Kiera. She nodded. “Zoey?”

  “Yes,” the twelve-year-old said.

  “I’m coming, too,” Sydney said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

  “You’re not going to want to see this,” Atlas warned, “and even if you do, what’s about to happen, that’s not good for Maisie to see.”

  After a moment, she seemed to be okay with this. Atlas assured her of their safety, something that took a long minute to accomplish.

  When they entered the factory, Zoey walked the two of them inside and pointed to the man’s office. Kiera kicked open the door, shot the guard in the face, then looked at the boss where he sat behind an old desk.

  Atlas had Cira’s XD9 in hand, ready to put this bitch to bed when Zoey stepped forward and said to the man, “I want to tell you a story. There was this jerk who worked kids too hard, didn’t feed them enough during the day, and told them scary stories. He died. The end.”

  She looked up at Atlas and Kiera, nodded, and then stood back while Atlas emptied half his mag into this human stain.

  Atlas looked at her and said, “I thought that was a nice story.”

  “I liked the ending best,” Zoey said.

  When they walked out onto the factory floor, Atlas said, “El jefe is dead. If you don’t want to work, you don’t need to.”

  They all met back at the hotel where Cira was arranging to rent an extra room for Sydney and the girls. Leopold said, “It’s not a nice place, but that’s the point. I hope you understand.”

  “I do,” Sydney said. “Thank you anyway.”

  Inside Santiago’s house, they had found cash, weapons, and clothes. Leopold handed the cash to Estella then looked at Atlas, Kiera, and Yergha. “The four of you will need that money to cross the border.”

  “Why can’t we just come with you?” Yergha asked. “I don’t understand why you’re making us do this.”

  “He just doesn’t want to get his hair wet,” Esty said under her breath.

  “I’m not a good swimmer,” he said.

  Leopold audibly cleared his throat then said, “All four of you have issues that would get flagged at the border. Some of you aren’t technically alive, one of you is supposed to be somewhere else entirely, and all four can be tied to the Fox family if we’re traveling together. This cannot happen. Even if we can get an escort at the border, they will surely check our IDs.”

  “Coming back isn’t the same as going in,” Atlas said like he wasn’t all that excited about illegally crossing the border.

  Leopold looked at Atlas and said, “When you get to the other side, I have some important news for you about Alabama. There has been some significant progress there.”

  “You’re just trying to keep me from running,” he said. “I won’t run, though. You have my word.”

  “If you behave the way you say you will, then I will give you another gift as well, one I didn’t think I would ever get the chance to offer.”

  “Why would you change protocol now?” Atlas asked.

  “Because I see now that this business looks different from the inside, being part of the op, not just overseeing it.”

  “How so?” Atlas asked.

  “It was hard, scary, invigorating, heartbreaking, flat-out raw, and nerve-racking. For those reasons alone, I have a new appreciation for what all of you do. I want to show you that appreciation.”

  “Okay by me,” Atlas said. “But as I said, I won’t run.”

  “I believe you,” Leopold said, his word genuine.

  “You told me when we started this that you would find Alabama if I would toe the line. At the time, all I cared about was that little girl.” Looking around, he said, “The crazy thing is, I’m starting to care about you guys, too, especially you, Estella.”

  When he winked at her, Esty punched his arm.

  “What’s with you and hitting people?” Yergha asked. Esty’s answer had been to hit him, too. This time he blocked her shot. Then, with both lightheartedness and laughter in his voice, he said, “Look at you, chica. You’re totally off your game.”

  The rest of the group laughed even though most of them felt like there was nothing worth laughing at, not when they had failed to save Callie.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  LEOPOLD WENTWORTH

  When Camden Fox called Leopold, the Congressman told him they were going to be using the FBI at the West Texas Anti-Gang Center to escort the family back into the United States. He said they’d meet them at The Bridge of Americas (TBOA) entrance.

  “We have nine people we need to get through,” Leopold said.

  Camden paused for a moment. “Our FBI liaison will need either a passport or a current US ID to clear them for passage. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Leopold drew a deep breath, blew it out then said, “Yes, Camden, it’s going to be a problem.”

  He knew there would be an issue long before this call but he wanted to see if Camden could be forced to be more creative. He also wanted to gauge the honesty and integrity of the Fed picking them up.

  “I think I may have a solution,” Camden offered. “As you know, the border is wide open for crossings.”

  “First off, no it’s not,” Leopold said, challenging the man.

  “You may think that, and much of America may think that, but it’s wide open. Trust me, Leopold. This is what I do, it’s what I stand for, and it’s what I’ve been in the spotlight trying to stop regardless of your political opinion, your feelings, or the news you watch. That’s why I know where you can cross.”

  “You’re not suggesting they cross into America with a bunch of undocumented migrants, are you?”

  “I’ve been with Border Patrol when they bring these people in,” Camden said. “You have a seven-hour turn-around time right now with the new surge of migrants. They don’t even have to have ID.”

  “Bullshit,” Leopold said. “I’m not risking my team on some conspiracy theory you can’t even begin to prove.”

  “Please, with all due respect, Leopold—and I have a lot of it for you—shut the hell up. I told you I had a way in and I’m going to get your team through. Or you can leave them in that garbage dump of a city you’re currently stuck in. What’s it going to be?”

  “If they get caught or detained, I will kill you, Camden. I will personally wrap my hands around your throat and squeeze the very life from you.”

  “I feel good with my intel,” Camden said.

  “They can’t get detained,” he said. “Even if they’re not identifying them, my team cannot be detained.”

  “That’s on them,” Camden said. “I can tell you where to go, but they’ll need to hire a coyote or a lookout and that’ll cost them. Usually, it’s a grand per person to arrange for crossing. Maybe fifteen hundred if these coc
ksuckers are greedy. Do you have that kind of cash?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Okay then,” Camden said. “My contact and I will arrange to pick up you, Sydney, and the girls at TBOA. I’ll text you with the details when I have them.”

  “Roger that. Oh, and Camden?”

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry about Callie.”

  The Congressman was exceptionally quiet, then, “I can’t even say her name without going to…without going…to pieces.”

  “You crawled in bed with vipers and you got bit,” he said.

  Leopold now knew what happened. He and the team managed to piece it together. Sadly, the congressman wasn’t even denying it.

  “I feel sorry for your family and for what Callie must have gone through, but all of that pain you feel—that crushing heartache that just won’t go away—that’s your penance and I hope it hurts. No offense, but you really screwed the pooch here.”

  “I know,” he said, sniffling. “Just look for my text.”

  Leopold started to say goodbye when the line went dead. He looked at the phone’s screen and saw that Camden had hung up. Shaking his head, he went to break the good news to Sydney and the girls. They were going home.

  Leopold, Cira, Sydney, and the two girls took the Audi to the border. Leopold parked where he could, wiped the car down, and then he and the family walked across the bridge with a large group of migrants. Leopold was the first to see Camden. “There’s your dad,” he told the girls.

  When Sydney said they could go, Zoey and Maisie broke into a run, practically bowling their father over with hugs.

  While the team had waited for Camden to arrange for the official crossing, Sydney had buzzed her head completely and purchased new clothes. Leopold glanced over at her. There was strength to her features he hadn’t seen in a woman of her stature, a steely-eyed gaze that spoke to her true character.

  “No matter what happens in the future,” Sydney said without actually looking at him, “I want you to know that I am more grateful to you and your team than you will ever understand. Thank you for what you did for us.”

  He nodded, tearing up for some reason. Later, when he looked back at that moment, he would realize that he seemed to be feeling her pain. This was a woman who was taken from America with three daughters but returned to a husband she no longer loved with only two of them.

  “We have an SUV waiting,” Camden said when they reached him. He looked Sydney over, saw the abuse she’d endured then leaned in to kiss her. She dodged the kiss, taking Maisie’s hand instead.

  Leopold glanced at Cira who raised an eyebrow. Yeah, Leopold thought, she’s going to eviscerate him on a soul level, if not physically.

  The group met the Fed a moment later. His physique was a bit slovenly, but his uniform, his hat, and his shoes were in good order. For all the laws Leopold’s team had broken, for the many lives they’d taken, and for the stealing and drug dealing that it took to get there, he prayed to God he wasn’t getting cuffed and thrown in the back seat.

  Instead, the FBI Agent tipped his hat and said, “This way, folks.”

  They all piled into a large black Suburban. The Fed took the driver’s seat while Leopold sat up front in the passenger seat. The girls climbed back into the third-row seat allowing Camden, Sydney, and Cira to take the second-row bench seat. Whether Cira sat behind the Fed on purpose or not, Leopold didn’t know. Either way, he was glad she did. Tactically, it was a smart move.

  “Thanks for arranging for this,” Leopold said to the agent.

  “My pleasure,” he replied. “That’s a hell of a thing you did for this family. We have been able to keep things relatively sane on this side of the wall for a long time but it’s spilling over and, to be honest, it ain’t getting any easier.”

  “This is true,” Leopold said.

  “What are you going to do, though, right?” the Fed asked jovially. “I just put on the uniform, show up, and do the best I can.”

  “For sure,” Leopold said. “But you have to admit, it’s always nice when you can get one over on these scumbags.”

  “Scumbags, is right.”

  Leopold was still worried about his team crossing the border, but for these anti-gang guys to have his back despite what they just did in Juárez…talk about a great feeling! As he felt himself beginning to unwind, he couldn’t help but reflect upon the tremendous amount of respect he had for guys like their liaison. This man put his life on the line every day to protect this country.

  “Do you have family here?” Leopold asked.

  “A daughter,” he said. “Had a wife too, but you know how law enforcement and marriages go. Some relationships have legs while others just fold and close up shop. My old lady booked it a while back.”

  “That’s tough,” Leopold said.

  It suddenly occurred to him that this man’s wife not only left him, but she also left their daughter.

  Wow, he thought, that’s messed up.

  “What’s your name, by the way?” Leopold asked thinking maybe he could use this man as a connection later on down the road.

  They came to a stop at a light. The Fed turned and said, “I’m Agent Otis Fykes. And you?”

  The name jumped into his mind but why did it sound so familiar? He shook the FBI man’s hand and said, “Leopold Wentworth, pleased to meet you.”

  “You as well.”

  They drove to the next light, stopped again, and that’s when the answer hit him like a wrecking ball straight to the gut. The guard who let the kidnappers take Sydney and the girls through the border, Gill Franklin, said he knew the name of the guy who arranged this. He said the guy was a Fed, Agent Otis Fykes.

  “Didn’t you make some huge bust a few years back?” Leopold asked.

  Fykes gave a bit of a smile. “I try to be modest but yeah. Our task force has hit some pretty big scores over the years. It sure takes the wind out of these guys’ sails, but you know how it goes—cut the head off of one scumbag and two more grow back. Sometimes it feels like a losing battle, especially in this new climate. It’s like we’re just treading water here, you know? Like one day you’re going to get so tired you just give up, sink to the bottom of the ocean, and let the water hold you until the end of time.”

  “That’s pretty pessimistic,” Camden said from the back seat. With his politician’s voice, he said, “Hopefully I can help change some of that with some policy that works.”

  “We’re sure rooting for you, Congressman,” Agent Fykes said.

  While this conversation between Camden and the agent went on, Leopold was busy texting Cira.

  THIS AGENT HELPED ORCHESTRATE THE KIDNAPPING. HE IS A BAD GUY. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO MAKE THE TEAM.

  He sent the message, heard the text alert on Cira’s phone then felt a sudden stillness in the air where Cira stopped breathing.

  At the next light, Cira unbuckled her seatbelt, sat up fast, and hooked her arm around Fykes’s throat. She pulled it as tight as she could, trapping him in a seated noose. The struggle was instantaneous and violent. But then he started to work his fingers in between the seatbelt and his neck, which would allow him breathing room. Leopold unbuckled his seatbelt and went to work on him. He threw ten or twelve vicious punches, each of them landing on the side of Fykes’s head.

  “What the hell?!” Camden was shouting. The girls were crying now and Sydney was trying to calm them.

  It didn’t occur to Leopold that they were beating a Federal agent to death at a stoplight in America, but it didn’t matter either. All he could think about was Callie.

  The man finally lost consciousness and fell forward into the steering wheel. For good measure, Leopold did what any of his team would have done: he slammed the man’s head into the steering wheel about four or five times just to be sure he was out.

  Turning to Camden, who was practically in shock, Leopold said, “Otis Fykes is the man who helped facilitate the border crossing. He paid for it and arranged it with both the
courier and the border attendant, Gill Franklin.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Sydney hissed. She turned and fired Camden a look. “You stepped into a pile of crap you are never getting out of!”

  He shrunk from his wife, almost like he’d never seen her raise her voice before. Leopold looked back and that’s when he saw it—the deeper awareness. Camden now knew that Sydney knew what he had done. It didn’t help that Leopold told her everything they had figured out for themselves. To her it made sense. But for Camden, this was going to be as bad as a life sentence in a prison from which he would never escape. Given the chance to switch places with the man, not even Atlas would have taken that deal.

  Horns blared behind them. Leopold activated the hazard lights and then he and Cira pulled the agent into the passenger seat so Leopold could take the wheel and get them out of there.

  “Time for a Plan B,” he said as they drove through the yellow light right before it turned red.

  Sydney attended to the girls by telling them that this man who just got beat up, had helped them get kidnapped.

  “Leopold and Cira saved us again,” she said as she crawled back into the third-row seat to be with them.

  “How do you know this man?” Leopold asked Camden.

  “He contacted me as the FBI liaison for the anti-gang task force right when Sydney and the girls were taken.”

  “So you’ve never met him before?” Leopold asked.

  He shook his head. “I thought he was reaching out as a courtesy.”

  “Cira and I need to head to the border and wait for the team to make it across. We’ll take you and the girls back to the hotel.”

  Just then, Leopold’s phone rang. He was about to ignore the call when he saw it was from his great uncle. Oh, hell no, he thought. He dismissed the call. The phone rang again; he hung up again. When it rang the third time, he cursed under his breath, then picked it up and put the phone on speaker.