Border Alert- Terrorist Penetration

by Glenn Ball

  These walls had their shackles and chains, and a number of torture devices used during the Inquisition. His eyes rested on the Judas’ cradle standing in the center of the room. He reserved this for his prostitutes that opposed him in one way or another. Those that did not turn over all their earnings, refused a customer, tried to escape, or committed any other such crime was subject to this torture.

  For the Judas’ cradle he invited all his men to watch whenever they cared and were free from other duties. The shame of being hung naked before their gawking eyes was part of what made this torture so effective, and the men got a good show out of it. The horrendous pain it caused its victim during her slow death discouraged the other prostitutes from disobedience too, so they were forced to watch. Any that had given him trouble he had chained to the walls, often stripped naked to add to the show, and there they not only watched in utter terror, but anticipated their upcoming turn. That usually did the trick he snickered.

  “You are a beast!” Espinosa’s rebuke still stung him like a slap on the cheek. He had just begun to feel completely better till the memory of their fight came back to aggravate him. He never could figure out what her problem was. She had simply lost it.

  Why couldn’t she understand that it was absolutely necessary that she watch, even if it was one of her friends hanging over the Judas’ chair? Her insolence had this way of upsetting the crap out of him. It had been all he could do to muster the control over his emotions to not name her as the next Judas’ cradle victim. Fortunately for her he had his heart set on making love to her that night and her death would have spoiled the opportunity. She came that close, he mused. Instead he had his way with her on the rack. Things had never been the same between them after that night. She became like ice. He never did understand why.

  Perturbed that his visit to the dungeon had not conciliated him as he had hoped he began the climb back up toward the roof. He still had not heard back from the back-up trailer-truck. Just at that moment his cell sounded.

  “We got your message and we’re on our way …Should be there in less than half an hour.”

  “Okay, good. Alejandro is there already cleaning up the mess. Just make sure you get all the chemicals, and that they’re properly placed and concealed as in the original. We can’t have any slip-ups.”

  At least something was coming back under his control. “Alicia, your turn will be next.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Jaws of Death

  With renewed pace Pedro began down the hillside. For several minutes the trail seemed to be leading him right where he needed to go. Then it ended. There were several boulders above him and below him. He looked around for the best way down. Spotting where the drop-off was not steep and ended in grass with some pines just beyond it, he made straight for it. As he did so that strange sensation came over him again of being observed. He looked over his shoulder but could see nothing there.

  Moving among the trees once again he felt strangely more secure. He was making good time, seemed to be going straight for the powerlines, and though there was no longer any trail he found the going pretty easy. The fresh scent of pine rose up into his nostrils. It was a pleasant smell. It gave him hope. He would look for a hiding place in town and hopefully find help.

  Passing a stout oak tree, a dark blur came down upon him. There was a flutter, a whirling of air and a horrifying screech. He stopped dead in his tracks. His pulse spiked. Almost at his feet, just to his left a large owl had dived upon some rodent and was now beating its wings upward into a nearby tree.

  Perhaps that had been the shadow that had moved overhead earlier he said to himself. Yet strangely enough his skin was crawling again. His nerves were not to be calmed.

  As he moved swiftly through the trees, he could have sworn he saw a shadow at times moving in step with him off to one side. It was elusive. He would see it one moment out of the corner of his eye but looking toward it there would be nothing there.

  He came to the second drop down of the hills’ natural terraces. “Should just be one or two more,” he encouraged himself.

  At that moment the shadowy form he kept thinking he had been seeing made an unmistakable appearance. It was a large cougar. It bounded up one boulder and up onto the next in seamless motion. It was now situated exactly above the place where Pedro intended to drop down to the next terrace. With the moon directly behind, its silhouette was both majestic and frightening. The cat was preparing to pounce. Even in the dim light the ripple of its muscles was visible as it bared its long white fangs.

  Pedro froze. His heart stopped. There were a few tense moments as beads of cold sweat ran down his temples. One drop of salty sweat entered his eye and stung, blurring his vision for an instant. All of his rising hopes had come crashing down into a death pit with claws and fangs preparing to cut his flesh, to fillet him and eat him. A chilling breeze with the animal smell blew past him at that moment as his finality rose unstoppable before his eyes: his bones would be picked by vultures here in the wilderness. His family would never know what had happened to him.

  The silhouette made one last stir, getting its posture just right for the pounce.

  ********

  In those moments close to death the important memories flash before our eyes. Thus, it was with Pedro. He could see his entire life in a whole new light. A prayer actually escaped his breath at that moment, like a bird long caged. Funny how all his life he’d thought he had no time for God, that prayers were long-winded religious rites that took dedicated time, and probably priests were the only ones who really had time to pray to God. But in that instant, with the cougar ready to leap on him and cut his life out of him; in those seconds he discovered how utterly life-changing a prayer can be.

  “God, if you get me out of this, I’m yours.” He’d heard people say that even atheists pray to God in their dying breath. Maybe he wasn’t an atheist but facing death square in the face he felt sure everyone would pray to God in a moment like this one.

  The prayer hardly passed his lips when a thunder-crack shattered the silence. At that same instant the rock just to his left whined from a bullet strike.

  His eyes had been locked on the cougar, but it leaped down on the far side.

  The shock left his mind unable to make sense of what had happened at first. Then a second shot rang out. This time the bullet pinged off a rock above him. In a flash it came to him what was happening. He had gone from being dinner for the big cat to the hunted victim of the death squad.

  CHAPTER 15

  Snow: A Pearl Cast from the Sky

  I saw you in a dream one night.

  The clouds were at your feet

  As you skimmed upon the mountaintops.

  Gracefully you swirled on air

  Gliding, spinning, twirling

  In a ballet of ice,

  That told your story of a distant land.

  You were a pearl

  Floating down from heaven,

  Royal, pure, untainted beauty.

  How delicately you dressed your maidens

  In lace of white,

  As they stood for your arrival

  The day of our wedding.

  I watched in awe of perfect beauty,

  Of snow-white glory

  Descending from a lofty throne

  Exalted in the heavens,

  Where your face so pure, so white

  Had outshone all the stars

  In that land so high above

  The things I knew.

  For ages I had longed to touch

  That face that shimmered

  Full of love,

  Full of the treasures of a land

  I could not reach.

  For ages I had longed for more

  Than sweat and pain and loneliness,

  Than to be but soil.

  My heart was moved that you had come—

  A fragile flower of the air—

  To make your home

  Where winds could blow,

  And
boots could crush,

  And Earth could smear in mud.

  My heart was moved the day we kissed,

  And the heart of the Sky was ripped in two.

  I saw his tears,

  As he bent down to watch the Pearl he lost

  To Earth that day.

  I saw the cost of agony,

  The flash of pain

  Upon his face,

  As the Pearl he cast to Earth a seed

  Had left his heart an open wound,

  Empty.

  It was not until we spoke our vows,

  And joined in holy union,

  That I saw the darkness of the Sky

  Turn to sunshine, and his tears

  To joyous warmth.

  For he and I, the Earth and Sky

  Now were family.

  It was then, when you melted into me,

  I knew we joined forever

  One

  In the warmth of our Father.

  Susanna Perle’s eyes roamed across the poem on the back cover of her wedding album. It was Adam’s poem specially written for her. Her bridesmaid Sonya was a professional writer, and he collaborated with her, getting his thoughts into poem. The poem had the expressive sweetness of Sonya, yet it also had Adam written all over it.

  Tap, tap, tap…. The sound came through the vents. It gave her a chill. The whole house was quiet, like it was listening to that metallic sound. The rain had stopped; the thumping on the roof had stopped; Susanna's breathing had stopped -- to listen. Tap, tap, tap…. Was it an actual sound, or just her imagination? It was so faint she couldn't tell for sure.

  She crept across the room, stood under the vent, and cocked her head with her ear toward the vent. Tap, tap, tap ... Yeah, she heard it all right. It sounded like it was coming from the attic.

  She went back to the sofa. It was just water dripping from the air vent in the roof, she told herself. It must be dripping on the central air unit.

  She turned past the wedding to the honeymoon, where the holy union was consummated above the clouds, in a land of winter white. For days they played like children in that land, free from the cares of life. She thrilled to all her favorite sports, skimming down the slopes of mountains on skis, skating her ballet on ice and hiking in the mountains. She was a girl stepping into a fairy tale, where icy branches of trees glittered, and stars danced on the rippling streams.

  By night they snuggled in front of a fire. It was cozy in that little cabin with the snow falling in peaceful silence outside the window, and the fire crackling inside. It was just the two of them, cuddled up inside a painting on a Christmas card.

  Susanna Perle was staring at the photos, no longer aware of the room around her. It had faded from her mind, while she went back in time to a night she would never forget. It was the last night of the honeymoon.

  She could hear the popping of the fire. And she could see Adam’s face. It was glowing with a soft flickering light from the fire. She felt the strength of his hands as he placed them on her shoulders, his eyes sparkling like they had diamonds in them. She could actually see love, like she'd never seen it before, gazing into her eyes. The love was so real she could even feel its warmth, as his lips came closer.

  For hours there was no other touch but his, no other sound but the gentle smacking of the fire echoing their heated kisses. There was no light but firelight, gliding and whirling about on the walls, as if it were waltzing. Perle felt like she was inside of her musical jewelry box, where the light played through the crystals, as a miniature statue of bride and groom turned in a circle to a waltz melody. She had gazed at that box for hours as a girl, dreaming of the day she would be married. Now she was living inside of her dream.

  "Oh Adam, tell me this will never end." Her lips were next to his as she spoke. "Tell me we will always feel this way about each other.” In her mind she could still hear him softly quoting that poem to her.

  “It was then, when you melted into me, I knew we joined forever, One.”

  She rose to her feet in a trance. In the back of her mind she was thinking there was something in the attic that she needed to get. What was it? She couldn't remember. All she could think about was Adam. She didn't even hear the thunder, as she climbed the stairs toward the attic.

  ********

  Pedro continued to hear them faintly in the distance behind him, but it seemed they were falling further and further back. It was imperative that he make it to town and get into hiding before daylight, or they would surely spot him coming out of the woods.

  For a brief moment he came out into a rather open place with somewhat of a ledge. From there he could see that he was now not far from town and that this was the last drop-off. By grabbing a tree branch, he was able to swing down and was again racing as fast as his heavy legs would carry him.

  All around him the forest held its breath, as if it was watching an intruder invading its domain and was seething in silent fury at the effrontery of the trespass. The very air was still like a stalking cougar preparing to pounce on its prey unawares. From his life at sea Pedro was as familiar with this phenomenon as the smell of his own breath. It was the calm before the storm.

  The absolute stillness all around him made him nervous. Try as he might to make no noise it was next to impossible running through such rugged terrain where he had never before set foot. He was sure the death squad would be able to hear such a raucous. He felt like a sailboat stuck at sea with no help from the wind, knowing that a torrent was about to rise up and smother it but with no impulsion to escape it.

  Some say it is always darkest just before the dawn. With legs dragging, heart throbbing from fear-shaking weariness, lungs busting in their tremendous strain, this was definitely true for Pedro. Just when he thought he could go no further he broke out into the open. The air instantly became fresh, with a cool wind beginning to blow. The moon had disappeared. It was the darkest it had been all night.

  “As dark as it is now, I can follow these powerlines pretty much out in the open and not be seen,” he murmured to himself. It was not far at all to the town. He was there in barely a minute. With his obscure entrance to the town the storm came thundering up behind him, riding on his shoulders like an uninvited monkey.

  Hearing wind chimes he noticed that the nearest house was a full block closer than the rest of the houses in town. The chimes hung inside of a long porch that ended at the corner of the house nearest Pedro. The porch apparently wrapped around the front of the house. Looking upward to the roof he noticed a rooster swiveling like an unmanned sail in the wind. It was a wind vane announcing the coming of the storm. The house was an attractive two-story farmhouse, with a roof shaped somewhat like a barn. On the backside of the house he could see some thick bushes inviting him to hide within them.

  Within seconds he was ducking inside of the bushes where he knew he could not be seen. Once situated there he scanned the backside of the house and something got his attention. It was a patio door sitting wide open. He took a quick glance around and seeing nobody he made a dash for it.

  Once inside he realized that he honestly did not have a plan for what he would do once inside a home. He only knew that the death squad would be less likely to search the insides of houses for him for fear of being discovered themselves.

  Finding a closet, he stepped inside with the door just slightly ajar. Then he felt the walls vibrate. Suddenly the heavens let loose, and there was a mighty downpour. At that moment a door slammed. Apprehensively he waited in silence. Shortly he heard a woman’s footsteps and the glass door by which he had entered the house was shut.

  It seemed she must be alone, because she did not talk to anyone else, and there were no other sounds except those coming from where she was. He made up his mind he would get upstairs and find a better hiding place once he was sure she would not see him.

  He waited some time anticipating the moment he could make his move. All seemed to be quiet, almost as if she were sleeping. Ever so quietly he crept past the living
room to the stairs. His pulse skipped a beat when he saw her on the sofa, but her head was basically turned away from him. He did his best not to draw her attention. He went swiftly up the stairs, found a large walk-in closet and buried himself, shutting out the world in hopes that the death squad would never find him.

  ********

  Oscar and David were standing at the edge of the woods. They were looking up from the woods toward town. A wind chime was banging out its chaotic notes as if in defiance of the storm. As they looked toward that sound what met their eyes was a large house with a wind vane on its roof.

  They had finally discovered the footprints of Pedro after patiently following the border of the woods all the way to the powerlines. They were sopping wet, as was the ground, but the prints were still clear enough to follow to the bushes behind the house. From there they deduced that there could be only one direction he could have gone: the house. They found his footprints as they searched that side of the bushes, and the prints led to the patio behind the back door.

  CHAPTER 16

  Zika: Dark Secrets Brought to Light

  Antonio hung up; the flicker of a smile at one corner of his mouth reflected the good news he had from Alejandro about the semi’s timely arrival. There was a semblance of control settling in, and that lit up his hopes. It also inflamed his passion to control Alicia and the mess she was causing.

  It was time he paid his sorceress a visit. It was precisely for occasions like this that he kept her in the castle. It seemed the only time he ever paid her a visit was in these weary hours of the morning when he could not sleep. This was actually a good thing, because that way her presence there was kept secret. She was an extremely useful weapon, but had the secret gotten out, her usefulness to him would be seriously crippled. The ability to manipulate others by using her was magnified by their secret access that allowed for the passing of information unbeknownst to their victims.