Blue Steele Box Sets 2

by Remington Kane

  It was a stand-off, and it would be decided by the groups fighting outside the safe room.

  If the cartel members won the battle I was a dead woman. If the task force members won, Mia was going to prison for life.

  “Hey,” Mia said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why did your people send a chica like you after me?”

  “Probably for the same reason that your people use you as an enforcer.”

  Mia grinned. “I track down people and make them sorry they ever crossed the cartel. You do the same for your cartel, eh?”

  “I don’t work for a cartel. I work for the United States government.”

  Mia laughed, and as she did so, she shifted her gaze momentarily to take in Graboro.

  “Blue Steele, the United States government is the biggest cartel of all.”

  I didn’t respond to that. I wasn’t going to allow her to bait me into a political debate.

  Mia matched my silence, time passed, and the shotgun in my hands grew heavier. I groaned internally as I pondered my situation.

  How did I wind up here?

  Chapter 46

  FORT WORTH, TEXAS, FOUR DAYS EARLIER

  Sitting on my back porch as dawn blossomed, I looked around at my surroundings and slowly shook my head in wonder.

  I was happier than I could ever remember being and all my dreams had come true. I had a loving husband, a beautiful baby, and was the proud owner of a horse ranch.

  Our horses once numbered only two, a quarter horse named Willow, which I rode, while my husband Ramón preferred to ride an Arabian named Midnight. We now had over a dozen horses. We had bought Midnight and Willow from a pair of elderly friends named John and Candace Miller. They had been the owners of a farm that bordered our property.

  About a year ago, John passed away from a heart attack; a few months later, Candace Miller was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Her illness convinced her to consider selling her home and moving to Austin, where her daughter’s family lived. She did so, and Ramón and I bought the farm.

  We’re in the process of converting it into a horse ranch. A dream I’d had for most of my life had come true and I owned a ranch where I could raise quarter horses. I also had four employees, huge veterinarian and feed bills, along with one heck of a mortgage, but no one said that dreams come true for free.

  Despite all this, I felt incomplete at times, but at least I knew what was causing it. I had not worked in months due to my pregnancy and regardless of all the other exceptional joys in my life I missed being on the hunt.

  My specialty was tracking down dangerous fugitives and other violent criminals on the run. Going up against such people was an activity filled with peril and challenges, where at times I was forced to the limit of my abilities. After months of domestic bliss and tranquilness I craved such a contest.

  At first, I denied it, thinking it to be a perverse desire. I had everything I’d ever wanted, so why risk losing it all, risk losing my life, by tangling with some desperate soul who didn’t care if they killed me or not?

  But then, I remembered something my daddy once told me as a child when I asked him why he was a lawman. He said that he was different from other people, and that I was different from others as well. Even at a young age I had shown a willingness to fight instead of run, to stand up for what was right. As a Texas Ranger, my father had also been a hunter of criminals. He had undergone extensive training, yes, but it was his heroic soul that led him to do what he did. He had placed his life on the line to protect those who were ill-equipped to do the same. I lived each day of my life holding up that man as an example of how to live a good life. I hope I’ve done well.

  I could stop chasing dangerous fugitives, but I can’t stop being who I am. As full and joyous as my life had become, a part of me would be miserable if I quit doing what I loved to do.

  I had been a bounty hunter for years. While I no longer collected bounties, I would always be a hunter.

  Word had come the night before that my skills were needed once more. Soon, I would be back on the hunt.

  While Ramón was opening the front door to let Thomas Lawson into our home, I was settling our sleeping daughter into her crib.

  We’d spent weeks thinking we were going to name our child after me. We were going to name her Azure Acero, which in Spanish meant, Blue Steel. After we both came to the conclusion that it was a bit too cutesy, we agreed to name her after a woman who meant a lot to me.

  Our daughter was named after my mentor, the woman who trained me to be a bounty hunter, Ruby Wheeler.

  My little Ruby cooed in her sleep as I laid her down. She was three months old and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She favored me more than she did Ramón, but she had her daddy’s darker skin coloration to go along with my green eyes.

  After kissing my precious baby, I went downstairs and found that Lawson was looking at Ruby by way of our video baby monitor.

  I greeted Lawson with a kiss on the cheek and he sent me a wide smile.

  “That is one beautiful baby, Blue.”

  “Thank you. We named her Ruby.”

  “I like that name,” Lawson said.

  “I’ll let you two talk in private,” Ramón said. “Besides, I need to see to our horses.”

  Lawson and I settled together on a sofa in my living room and he removed a file from his briefcase.

  “First, let me apologize for putting you back to work so soon. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t need your expertise.”

  “There’s no need to apologize. After all, my maternity leave technically ended weeks ago.”

  “I know, but I was hoping to give you a bit more time. I’ll say this, you appear to be in good shape.”

  I smiled. “Are you checking out my figure, Thomas?”

  “Solely in the interest of your health and welfare. If you weren’t in shape I wouldn’t put you back in the field.”

  “I’m fit all right. I made sure I was. I would never risk myself on an assignment because I was too lazy to work out. I have much to live for.” After speaking I looked over at the baby monitor. Ruby was sleeping like an angel.

  Lawson removed a picture from the file and passed it over to me. It was the photo of a young, good-looking woman. Her skin was brown, and she had Hispanic features.

  “That’s Mia Ortiz,” Lawson said.

  “What is she on the run for?”

  “Mia Ortiz is an enforcer for a Mexican cartel. If someone breaks the cartel’s rules and goes on the run, it’s Mia they send to track them down.”

  “Track them down and kill them?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Who did she kill that brought her to your attention?”

  “Mia murdered an undercover DEA agent named Ruben Corteron. Agent Corteron also happened to be the nephew of the former Governor of the Mexican state, Veracruz. The agent was born in Mexico and came here when he was a teen. He was exceptionally good at his job, but he was framed for a theft by a rival in the cartel he was investigating. Corteron killed the men sent to question him, then, fearing his cover had been blown he fled back here to the states.”

  “He headed back here on his own? What about his handlers?”

  “Not knowing how he had been compromised, Agent Corteron decided to trust no one until he had more information. He finally made contact with a superior after crossing the border in San Diego, but he was murdered in a restaurant bar while awaiting pick-up.”

  “This woman, Mia, he must have thought she was harmless and dropped his guard.”

  “Yes, the cartel leader, Juan Graboro, he sent Mia off to make an example of Corteron. Agent Corteron died from ingesting poison that had been slipped into his drink.”

  “Does the cartel suspect he was a DEA agent?”

  “They must know by now. We’ve learned that the man who started all this by framing Agent Corteron was tortured and killed.”

  “Is Mia still in the San Diego area?”

  “That’s unknown, but
it might be the best place to start.”

  “Okay, but if she’s fled into Mexico, what then?”

  “The United States and Mexico have formed a joint task force to take down Juan Graboro. They’re gathered in Tijuana while plans are being solidified. They’ll soon be making a move on the cartel leader’s compound. Graboro has a home on a beach in Ensenada, Mexico.”

  I was surprised by where I assumed Lawson was heading.

  “You want me to join the task force? I thought you liked me to operate under the radar?”

  “You’ll accompany the task force as an observer only as a last resort. You have two days on your own to locate Mia, but I fear she’s crossed the border.”

  Lawson went on to fill me in about the progress the FBI and DEA made in tracking Mia’s movements. It wasn’t much, but I saw a possibility that might be more than it seemed.

  “I take it you need me to leave right away?”

  Lawson looked over at the monitor and smiled at Ruby’s angelic image.

  “First thing in the morning will be fine. Mia Ortiz either made it out of San Diego or she’s in hiding. If she’s still in hiding, she won’t make a move until the border security slackens off.”

  “If she’s in hiding, I’ll find her,” I said.

  Lawson smiled at me.

  “No one is better at it than you, Blue. It’s good to have you back.”

  Chapter 47

  Lawson arranged to have a small jet on standby at the airport for me and I flew out of Fort Worth just before seven a.m.

  During the flight I looked over the file on Mia Ortiz again, hoping to find something I missed earlier. The truth was, there wasn’t much in the file. It was a list of assassinations that the DEA and FBI suspected her of committing, along with the methods she used to kill. While Agent Corteron had been murdered with poison, Mia normally used a shotgun. There was also an instance where she beat a man bloody with a baseball bat, then set him on fire. That man had raped the eight-year-old daughter of a cartel member.

  Not only had Mia killed often, but she was a skilled tracker and hunter. It appeared she was often called in when someone went on the run. If Mia Ortiz had a personal life, she kept it hidden.

  After landing, I acquired a rental car, then drove into the city. There was no point in indiscriminately showing Mia’s photo around at bars and restaurants. The FBI and the local police would have done that already. I only had one lead to check out that I thought should have been given more attention.

  It was a hostel whose owner was known to have been a cartel member in his youth. The DEA had put the place under surveillance for three days. When there was no sign of Mia, they moved on. However, the report stated that the surveillance was only performed externally.

  In my opinion, they should have sent in an undercover agent. Had Mia been staying there at the time, she certainly wouldn’t have been foolish enough to be seen outside the hostel.

  To make matters worse, after a fight broke out between four young men in front of a nearby bar after midnight, someone called the police. This happened a day after the FBI ended their surveillance. If Mia had been inside the hostel, the sight and sound of two police cars arriving in the area would have sent her scrambling out a window.

  The cops didn’t enter the hostel. There was no need to do so. They just dragged the four drunken fools away from the bar, but the damage would have been done and Mia would be in the wind.

  However, if she was there at the time and unaware of the police activity that transpired nearby, perhaps because she was asleep, she might still be there. If that were the case, she would be mine.

  I had packed along a pair of my oldest jeans and a Dallas Cowboys’ T-shirt I’d had since high school. Both had seen their share of wear and tear and would help me blend in as someone looking to economize by staying at a hostel.

  To enhance the look, I ditched my handbag and bought an old backpack at a second-hand store. It was perfect, as it was covered with decals and stickers from cities around the world. At first glance, people would take me as a vagabond.

  While we were both far from old, neither myself nor Mia Ortiz could pass for college students. Fortunately, the average age of a guest staying at a hostel had gone up over the last decade or so, with senior citizens leading the charge. Some hostels did enforce age restrictions, but they were in the minority.

  I sat in a coffee shop across the street from the hostel I would be staying at and watched the place for a while. The guests who were coming and going looked normal enough and I saw nothing that jumped out at me.

  I had called ahead and knew they had vacancies. After getting my look at the place I walked over and checked-in. As much as I would have liked a private room, I opted instead for a twin room. That meant that I would be sharing accommodations with another guest.

  The girl who checked me in said that my roommate’s name was Megan, and I was pleased to hear that Megan was a long-term guest.

  She may have been a long-term guest, but Megan turned out to be only nineteen. A petite brunette, she was originally from Delaware, but she traveled to San Diego with a boyfriend who had a try-out with a local professional sports team. When the boyfriend failed to make the cut, he decided to go back home and sell cars at his father’s dealership.

  Megan wished him well, but she had fallen in love with San Diego and decided to stay. She worked odd jobs while looking for something more permanent.

  I ingratiated myself to her when I offered to treat her to a dinner of Chinese take-out, and she reciprocated by supplying soda to wash it down with.

  Once we were comfortable with each other I asked her about the other guests. I had a picture of Mia that I could show her, but I refrained from doing so. She might think it odd if I began questioning her about a certain person, and so I kept things casual.

  Megan was a gossip. When the subject of the conversation turned to the hostel’s owner, Pablo, a smile came over Megan’s face.

  “Why the grin?” I asked.

  “Pablo, he’s not much to look at, but you should have seen that secret lover of his.”

  “A secret lover?”

  Megan nodded.

  “Um-hmm, he doesn’t know I saw her, but I was sitting at the top of the stairs one day after I’d broken a heel. When Pablo opened his door, I saw a woman’s reflection in a mirror.”

  “Did she see you?”

  “No, she was staring at the door, but oh man was she beautiful. You know, she looked a little like you, but exotic, and with darker skin. I think she must be married or something, or maybe on the run from the cops.”

  I forced a laugh.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “She never left his room, not once, but I think she’s gone now. Pablo doesn’t bring food to his room anymore.”

  I changed the subject so that I didn’t seem to be too interested in Pablo. A short time later, I was on the phone with Lawson.

  “Excellent work, Blue, but do you think Ortiz is still there?”

  “I would doubt it, but Pablo might know where she’s gone.”

  “I’ll send a team in tomorrow morning to raid the place. You might want to be somewhere else.”

  “Okay, but one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “The woman I got the information from, Megan. She’s young and might not be wise enough to keep what she knows to herself. I’m not talking witness protection or anything that involved, but is there some way you could move her to a safer place.”

  “Does she have family nearby?”

  “No, and she wants to settle in San Diego, but she can’t find full-time employment.”

  “I’ll arrange for her to receive a job offer from a government agency. As for the hostel, we’ll likely be shutting it down for harboring criminals. Your informant should be safe.”

  “You’re the best, Lawson. I’ll check back in tomorrow.”

  The raid failed to turn up Mia, but it did uncover evidence that she had stayed there
. A photo was found in Pablo’s room.

  It had fallen off a night stand and was between the table and the wall. It was a photo of Mia holding a child that was about a year old. The little girl resembled her, but the child had much lighter skin. Perhaps Mia had a personal life after all.

  Other than the photo and a few fingerprints, there was no trace of Mia. Pablo refused to talk, and I seemed to have reached a dead-end. It was time to contact the task force and hitch a ride into Mexico.

  Chapter 48

  DEA agent Ronald Connors was not happy to see me and furious that yet another person had been informed about the upcoming raid on Graboro’s villa. I met with him and a second agent named Del Richards inside a conference room.

  I was seated on one side of a long table while the men stood together on the opposite side.

  Connors looked at me with an expression that displayed his annoyance. Agent Richards’ stare was different. He was checking me out as if I had arrived for a blind date. Judging by his suit, the styled hair, and the cologne, I guessed that he thought of himself as a ladies’ man. He was tall, dark, and handsome, but I had already found Mr. Right.

  “What agency are you with again?” Connors asked.

  “I work under the authority of Homeland Security, Agent Connors, and I have no intention of interfering with your raid. I simply want to tag along so that I can apprehend a cartel assassin who murdered one of your DEA agents.”

  That got his attention.

  “Are you talking about the bitch who killed Ruben Corteron?”

  “You knew him?

  “He was a friend. That female assassin, Mia Ortiz, you believe she might be inside Graboro’s villa?”

  “Possibly, or she may have already moved on. That’s what I need to find out. Your raiding party would be my ticket into Graboro’s compound.”