Justice for Miranda

by Reina Torres

  It wasn’t so much that she was tired, just a little bit under the influence.

  If she wasn’t trussed up like a turkey in Home Depot restraints she might have laughed.

  Just a little.

  And with the hazy cloud in her head she’d almost managed to fall asleep like her arms had done. Before the phone rang.

  The first burst of ringer was followed by a chorus of angry voices and even though she could understand what they were saying before, the oppressive heat and the stomach-churning stench weren’t doing a thing for her concentration.

  Something landed on the side of the camper top and the truck rocked from the impact. Wincing, she waited to hear more.

  A little bit of scuffling followed a thud about a foot closer to the cab above her head. The pot probably wasn’t helping matters and the men seemed to tire easily.

  With the ensuing quiet she could hear more of the phone call. At least the tail end of one half of the conversation.

  But anything was good. And it gave her something to focus on.

  She tried to repeat the bits and pieces of salient information, trying to fix it in her memory.

  The boss wasn’t happy.

  Killing the boy was not what he wanted.

  He wanted her released.

  The phone call ended abruptly and the bit of hope that had sparked inside of her, hissed out like a match thrown in a cup of water.

  Pushing down the fear she followed that disappearing train of thought.

  The attorney they’d hired. A new, up and coming shark from Miami. Even if these men were planning to expand into drugs and other criminal activity, the chance that they’d had the kind of cash laying around to even pay her retainer, was a far cry from reality.

  There had to be money coming in from a bigger source. The boss. What had they called him? She couldn’t quite remember. But he didn’t sound happy. He was mad about the boy being killed.

  She was too. Sure, the boy had been with them when they were hunting illegally, but he’d tried to help. Tried to warn them. He’d been one of those kids who had gotten in a bad situation but could have changed their lives around.

  And he’d tried.

  But what did it get him?

  Miranda squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. She didn’t want the men to see that she was crying. Weak when she was already at their mercy? No thank you.

  She wanted them more than a little worried about what she could do if given the chance.

  Still, her options were limited.

  Flexing her foot, she felt the sharp edge of the GPS bracelet under her heel. The pain was welcome and knowing that it gave her a chance to be found?

  Priceless.

  She wanted to giggle at the commercial she had playing in her head. Goodness. She was getting high.

  Or silly.

  She didn’t know which one was worse.

  Either way, she needed her wits about her because night was coming, the dark chasing the light over the horizon, and with that night was her best chance for a rescue.

  “Trace.” She whispered the word so softly that she couldn’t actually hear it herself, but she felt it deep down and that was enough.

  Less than an hour ago, they’d used their computers and apps on phones to gather together all the various officers and agencies that were in on the plan to bring Miranda home. Trace had listened as Conor and Hayden laid out all of the plans that they’d put in place. When they were nearly done, Conor gave Trace the floor.

  It took him a minute to speak, but when he did the words rushed out. “I won’t take much time, but I wanted to just say that I’m grateful that everything came together so quickly. Not a single person or agency quibbled over jurisdiction or who’s the top dog in this situation.

  “I know that some of you, a good number in fact, are doing this on your own time. The most important thing that I’ve learned working for the State of Texas as a game warden is that there is no other place I would want to live in. You all make me exceedingly proud to be a public servant to the people of this state.

  “And some of you might not know Miranda personally but we all would lay down our lives for each other, and make no mistake, but Miranda Jimenez is one of us.” His throat closed up and his last words were forced through on his will alone. “She’s family.”

  Murmurs moved through the room and the connected phones and devices. All were in agreement.

  Conor was at his side, a hand on his shoulder.

  “We’re going in using darkness as our cover. I’ve talked to Trace and we’ve divided up the jobs that need done and the areas that need cover. We owe each other our loyalty because of the jobs that we’ve all chosen for ourselves. This goes beyond blue, brown, green, what have you. We’re going to get her back and stop a bunch of bad guys from doing even more damage to the people of our state.”

  Leaning closer to the screen of the desktop before him, he looked into the camera.

  “Chief Blaise?”

  Trace watched as the screen shifted to a lonely road. They could all see a bunch of firemen in half of their turnout gear. Some of them had smoke and sweat still streaked across their faces.

  The man in the center was wiping at his neck with a cloth, streaking smoke across his tanned skin. “Chief Ethan Blaise from Station 7 in San Antonio. We just finished with a house fire, but now we’re yours.

  “Trace,” the chief looked straight into the camera as if he was looking right at him, “one of my men is married to a woman who has some seriously amazing skills.” As he spoke another man walked up beside him and set a drone down on a makeshift table. “With the GPS coordinates that the University gave to Conor, we’re going to send a drone over and get a better look. It’s got its share of extra gadgets and programming by Beth. We’ll have infrared images and more information before everyone is in position. You’ve got us here for you and we’ll be here until we have Miranda back where she belongs.”

  The other firefighters from Station 7 all nodded and murmured their agreements along with their chief’s reassurances.

  “All right.” Conor clapped his hands together. “You all know your assignments. Let’s go!”

  She was going to be sick. Again.

  But she hoped that there wasn’t anything left in her stomach to come back up.

  Miranda managed to wiggle down toward the tailgate, trying to get some better air to breathe.

  Just as she flattened her feet against the tailgate so she could shift around, someone banged on the outside of the camper top.

  “You still alive in there?”

  Just the thought of opening her mouth to speak turned her stomach.

  Someone pounded on the outside again. “Hello!”

  “I’m. Alive.” She bit out the words because bile had climbed up onto the back of her tongue.

  There was a grumbled conversation, voices raised and then a fight seemed to break out again. Voices were muffled as well as the soft thumps against the side of the truck. A fight for sure, but with her headache firmly established and throbbing just under her skull she couldn’t tell who or how many of the men were involved.

  When the noise went quiet, Miranda opened her eyes and tried to make sense of the silence, but it didn’t last long.

  The tinted glass hatch just above her feet lifted up with a squeak and just as she moved her feet back from the tailgate it fell down and landed with a heavy, unforgiving thud.

  A flashlight flared to life and Miranda turned her head away, but the powerful LED caught her unawares and set off fireworks in her eyes.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  Before the words sunk in, someone grabbed the ties that were wrapped around her ankles and pulled.

  On her back, her fingers and knuckles scratched and dragged across the metal in the bed of the truck. Old paint flecks snapped off and when she turned to take the brunt onto her shoulder it brought her head in contact with what remained of the deer carcasses.

  Thickened
blood slicked across her skin and into her hair.

  Again, bile rose up into her mouth and she barely managed to keep it down. Thankfully the rush of fresh air helped her in that regard and the moment of panic she felt as she neared the end of the tailgate disappeared when someone grabbed her wrists and lowered her down to the ground.

  It didn’t matter how hard she fell into the grass, at least it hadn’t been metal.

  “Hey!” Someone yelled at her. “Hey!”

  Maybe she didn’t turn fast enough for him or maybe he just wanted to be an ass, but her new worst friend in the world grabbed the long hair at the back of her head and turned her around so she could face the fire.

  It felt like fire on her scalp and she was sure she’d lost a good chunk to his clawing hand, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of calling out in pain.

  He’d have to work harder than that.

  Blinking rapidly, she managed to see the area just outside the fire. Her vision was better but the edges swam and embers popping the fire burned like bombs leaping from the flames.

  One man sat with his face in his hands, grumbling under his breath. Likely the dissenter from the fight, he didn’t look up as someone started talking.

  “It’s your fault,” he hissed in her ear. “You’re the reason why we’re all here.”

  Sure, buddy. Whatever- OW!

  He tugged on her hair and she had to clamp her teeth together to keep from yelling.

  “We were hunting, having fun before delivering the drugs. That stupid decoy deer! A decoy! What a waste of money.”

  She didn’t want to say what was on her mind, she was angry, not suicidal.

  “And if the idiot had just killed that deer we hit, they wouldn’t have called you. You wouldn’t have seen the bag. That’s why,” he looked away from her and by the way some guys lowered their gazes, he was glaring at them in turn, “we’re out here tonight.”

  “You’re making things worse for yourself,” she murmured, “this is witness tampering, unlawful imprisonment. If you carry me over state lines the FBI gets involved. You don’t want them to get you in their crosshairs. You’d be much better off keeping this in the local courts.

  “I could care less about pressing charges. Right now,” she tried to tick off her mental tally of offenses, “you’ve got three poached deer- hey!” She turned her head to the side, trying to ease his hold on her hair. “I’m being honest here, okay? The three deer, that’s three tickets and some reparations to the state.

  “I’m willing to suck up the property damage at the rehab. So that’s off your list of worries.”

  He got down on one need beside her and glared into her eyes. “My list of worries? I’ve got more worries than your stupid ass animals and some property damage. What you did by seeing what you did was lose us a ton of money, guns and product.

  “We were on the verge of making our first big deal, puta. Putting our crew on the map. Making a name for ourselves. All we have left is that our boss knows we’re willing to kill to protect ourselves. He just doesn’t think we went about it the right way.

  “We killed my cousin to protect him and now he’s mad that we took you. He said he doesn’t want you around to talk, but he says if I kill you, he’s done with us.”

  A quick exhale of relief slipped from her mouth before she could stop it and he dropped her head down to the grass with a curse.

  “Did I say you were safe?”

  She froze on the ground, suddenly looking for the next danger.

  “He just doesn’t want you dead.”

  He turned and looked at one of the other men who was talking on his phone. When he noticed the expectant look, he nodded and gestured at the phone.

  “Junior knows a few people with less morals than money to spend. They come back and forth across the border looking for fun. And you,” he made a strange sound in his throat before spitting in her eye, “you’re going to be fun.”

  She couldn’t even blink her eyes to get rid of the spittle that made its way past her lashes. Miranda’s mind swam with fear. They were close enough to get to the river in an hour… or two.

  Boats crossed over all the time; they wouldn’t even need to take her through the checkpoint if they didn’t want to. Even if Trace had gotten to Jun quickly, it didn’t mean he’d figure out how to track her. And other than that, with less than 600 Texas Game Wardens stationed all over the state, they could hardly cover enough ground to find her.

  Given the excitable and relieved grin from Junior across the fire, he’d gotten ahold of someone who’d be willing to take her.

  Yeah. She needed things to hurry along with a rescue.

  It wasn’t doubt.

  No, it wasn’t. She was afraid, but it wasn’t that she wouldn’t be found. She just wondered what condition she’d be in when it happened.

  She didn’t want Trace to suffer. He’d think it was his fault. He’d take that on his shoulders. She could handle pain. She could handle whatever these men threw her way, but the one thing she couldn’t handle was Trace looking at her like she was broken.

  Miranda knew she’d never survive seeing pity in his eyes.

  Chapter 12

  Powering up the tablet that Conor had shoved in his hands, Trace opened the video conference and they all saw the area in mostly stark green and black. The reds, oranges, and yellow were the colors that drew his eyes.

  From the speakers he heard the soft voice of a woman.

  “They have a fire going. I doubt they think they’re in an area where they can be found, so that’s going to work for us. Based on heights and weights that I gleaned from their booking records, I’ve tried to identify the various suspects.”

  The screen changed and names were suddenly imposed over the figures. White text with first names suddenly lit up the screens.

  MIRANDA

  She was prone.

  Laid out on the ground, with one of the men kneeling behind her.

  Trace saw red and fought down the urge to smash the tablet against the first flat surface he could find. Now wasn’t the time to lose his shit.

  He had to get to her.

  “Heat shows that they’re all alive.”

  Trace knew that had mostly been for his benefit. Everyone had been handling him with kid-gloves. Whether they knew that he was head over heels for her or just that there was more between them than friendship didn’t matter.

  Hell, he didn’t care who knew as long as they got her back safely.

  “Get yourselves in place and I’ll give you any updates before you go in. And Trace?”

  He saw the others around him powering off their devices, leaving him alone with Beth.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  He could almost hear a smile through the digital connection. “We’ll get her back, don’t doubt that. Just be there for her. She’s a strong woman, she couldn’t have been a game warden if she wasn’t, but she’s going to need your strength. Give her space if she needs it, but don’t walk away. Not if she’s it for you.”

  He swallowed down the knot in his throat and felt the raw scratch of his feelings. “Oh, she’s it for me,” he assured her, “she’s been it for me for quite some time. I’m just glad she didn’t let me get away. I owe her whatever she needs from me and more.”

  “All right then.” He heard her draw in a shaking breath. “Now go get your woman.”

  When the connection kicked off, he looked at the makeshift staging area that they’d decided on. A local landowner who had needed help with poachers a few years back had given him a handshake and a promise for help some day.

  Trace had called in the marker and they had a whole bevy of various agency vehicles and private as well. Jun was at the edge of the ‘camp’ with the EMTs and Firefighters from 7.

  There hadn’t been any arguments from Trace. Jun was steady enough on his feet, but he came to Trace as the family’s representative and they’d given each other a hard, wordless embrace.

  Several possible egress p
aths had been identified and enforcement personnel were deployed to cover each and make sure the men couldn’t manage to remove Miranda to another site.

  And then there was the group that was going to approach the site. They met on their own mainly because there was a lot of ways that this could go wrong and the last thing they needed was to have those not directly involved to worry about the worst possibilities.

  “You shouldn’t either, Trace.”

  He didn’t lift his gaze to meet Conor’s.

  “We’re not going to do this. I need you to have my back, not to leave me behind.” He looked at the group around him.

  “I have one concern in all of this and to be honest with all of you,” he nodded slowly as if needing to show them how earnest he was, “the only thing I care about is Miranda. If it was up to me, I’d kill the men on sight, just for breaking into her home. But knowing they’ve terrified her and probably hurt-” he swallowed hard and forced a breath into his lung, “hurt her, they’re already dead to me. So just make sure you don’t get between me and these men. Do what you want, but don’t make yourself a target. I don’t think I’ll be thinking beyond making sure she’s alive and getting her to safety.”

  He could barely hear the sound of his own voice, but he felt the painful path it made up through his throat and welcomed it.

  “Hey, Trace.”

  He didn’t turn toward the voice, but he knew who it was. Bill Porter, a man who’d been a warden during his time and respected Miranda’s work.

  “Don’t worry about us. You bring our girl out and we’ll deal with the rest. I’m willing to put them behind bars, but I’m more than happy to save the government the expense of a trial if they don’t give up.”

  “You know we’re here, Trace.” Ronald Williams was there as well. “Just remember this, man. You trained me and you trained Miranda. We’ve all worked with her and know how strong she is. If there’s someone who’s going to come out of this all right, it’s going to be her.