“There are laws against kidnapping and murder, aren’t there?”
“Sure.”
“Well, Guerrero sure broke those laws, and to my mind these people are just performing a citizen’s arrest. That’s perfectly legal.”
“Not when you throw in crossing a border.”
Keller waved his good hand dismissively. “Now you’re not talking about law, Roy, you’re talking about rules and regulations. And you know who makes those? I’ll tell you. A bunch of candy-ass politicians and bureaucrats make those rules.” Keller shook his head. “The law ... the law I believe in and swore to uphold ... says those girls should be freed and Guerrero and his goons deserve to have their asses shot off. I care more about that law than I do about a bunch of pissant rules.”
Rodgers looked like Keller’s argument had swayed him, but he just said, “We’ll wait and see how it all turns out.”
Tom left them there and walked outside. He found a quiet spot on the porch of the old ranch house and pulled out his cell phone. A push of a button sent a call through to Bonnie.
She answered on the second ring. “Tom?”
“Hi, darlin’. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine. What about you?”
He smiled, even though she couldn’t see him. “Ready to go.” He didn’t say any more than that, not wanting to go into detail over the phone. He was pretty sure the FBI wasn’t trying to tap into his cell phone conversations, but on the other hand, he wouldn’t put much of anything past Agent Morgan. “Where are you tonight?”
“I’m still at the hospital. I’ve been here all day. Kelly’s going to undergo a psychiatric evaluation, and I want to be here for her, as much as the doctors will let me.”
“Don’t wear yourself out,” Tom warned. “You’d better go back to her house pretty soon and get some rest.”
“No, I thought I’d stay here until ... until it’s over.”
He knew she wasn’t talking about her sister’s psychiatric evaluation now. She was referring to the raid on the old mission that would result either in freedom for those kidnapped girls ... or more death and tragedy for everyone concerned.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Do whatever you need to do, honey. And so will I.”
“Yes. I know you will. Tom?”
“Yeah?”
“You know I love you more than life itself?”
He smiled again. “Of course I know. And I love you the same way.”
There wasn’t much to say after that. She told him to take care of himself, and he promised that he would. They said their good-byes with a slight awkwardness that was unusual in two people who had been married for so long. But each of them knew that they might be saying good-bye for the last time. That possibility loomed in the backs of their minds, and there was nothing they could do about it.
After Tom had folded up his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his work shirt, he stood at the edge of the porch, leaned on the railing, and looked out at the barn. The rumble of the generator that provided light inside the rambling structure was the only noise he could hear.
But he could see the shadows of the people moving around inside, and as he watched them, he thought about how the plight of forty helpless girls had brought such a wide variety of individuals together in an attempt to help them.
Inside that barn were a lot of average, everyday men and women who had thought that their lives would go on peacefully for years to come. They had had their moments of facing danger, many of them, as they served in the military in various clashes around the globe, but those times were supposed to be past. And surely they had never dreamed that a new enemy would venture boldly onto American soil and threaten everything they held dear.
Then there were the men such as Charles Long and his fellow lawmen, men who, like Brady Keller, subscribed to a higher law than that laid down by timid politicians. Their frustration with the flaws of the system had led them to risk not only their careers but their very lives in defense of that higher law. Men such as them were prepared to live with the smaller injustices—the criminals who got away with their crimes because of some technicality, a procedural error or something like that. Such was the price that a civilization sometimes had to pay for its continued reliance on its legal system. But some wrongs were so huge, so evil, so monstrous, that they had to be addressed no matter what the technicalities and the procedures said. The invasion of their country, the wanton slaughter of innocents, the kidnapping and degradation of defenseless children ... those were things that could not be tolerated, no matter what.
And finally there were the men like Terry Jennings and Wild Bill Elliott, men who could be called mercenaries because they were paid to fight. Tom knew there was more to them than that, however. He could see it when he looked in their eyes. Wild Bill had probably fought in countless brushfire wars around the world, but Tom would have been willing to bet that in each clash, he had taken the side of the underdog, the people who wanted to set things right and were willing to fight and die for their cause. Those were the sort of men who now worked for Hiram Stackhouse.
Tonight, they were all united with one goal: to free those prisoners, no matter what it took. Revenge was not uppermost in their minds, although Tom was sure that any of them would be more than happy to line up Colonel Alfonso Guerrero in their sights. That would have to come second, though, after the primary objective was achieved.
So, in approximately twenty-four hours, hellfire would descend on that old mission. Where once humble men of God had brought a message of love and peace, desperate warriors would deliver a different sort of message. . . a message of fire and death to the evildoers who now trespassed there. The eternal struggle, it was sometimes called.
Tom closed his eyes for a moment and pressed his fingertips to his temples. He didn’t care about eternity right now. He just wanted those girls reunited with their families. He wanted to see the joyous embraces, to hear the sobs of happiness and relief as those who had been lost were brought home.
That was all the reward he wanted, and if in the end it cost him his life ... then so be it.
Thirty-three
Colonel Alfonso Guerrero looked at the trembling, frightened, yet still defiant girl who stood in front of him and said to her, “Please, Angelina, you must understand.”
The words came hard to him. He had never begged anyone for anything in his life. Every since he had been a child, he had realized quite clearly that if he wanted something, it was up to him to take it. No one was going to give it to him.
And yet now, the one thing he wanted the most had to be freely given. He couldn’t wrench it away from the one who possessed it.
He wanted his daughter to love him and to admit that she belonged with him, rather than with her witch of a mother. He should have killed that slut a long time ago, he thought. When she first left him and ran off to Laredo, taking the child with her, he should have gone after her and taken the appropriate measures. Instead, out of some misguided vestiges of affection, he had allowed her to live and to keep him separated from his daughter. Even though it had been difficult, he might have been able to let that situation continue.
But then he had discovered that she was moving away and taking Angelina with her, and Alfonso Guerrero—not the colonel, not the commander of the fierce Night Wolves, but rather the father—had known that he could never allow that. Using his men, his Los Lobos de la Noche, for a personal mission was also difficult for him to do, even though he was attempting to justify it with this auction of the captive girls, but he’d had no choice. He had to get Angelina back while he still had the chance.
Now she was with him again, as it was meant to be, but she was being stubborn about recognizing the reality of the situation.
“I don’t have to understand anything,” she said with a pout on her pretty face. “You’re just as bad as Mama said you were. I hate you and I don’t want to have anything to do with you!”
No one dared to speak to
him like that. He had had men killed for less.
But she knew that he could never harm her. Of all the people in the old mission compound, Angelina was the only one safe from his wrath.
His anger and frustration got the best of him for a moment. He slammed his open hand down on the polished top of the big desk. “You refuse to see that what I have done, I did for you!” he shouted. “I had to get you away from your mother, so that I could protect you!”
“Protect me?” she echoed. She gave a hollow laugh. “You could have killed me when you hijacked that bus!”
He shook his head. “My men were extremely careful. They had their orders.”
“If it was so important to you, why didn’t you just take me off the bus and leave the other girls there?” Her voice caught. “Why did you have to kill Sister Katherine?”
Guerrero grimaced and waved a hand. “The nun’s life meant nothing. Her death served as an example to the others, so that they would know to cooperate with me or risk the same fate. As to why I had to take them, that is none of your business.”
“But they’re my friends!”
“No!” Guerrero thundered. “They are not your friends! I have proof of their wicked ways. Sooner or later they would have led you down the same sinful paths. Did you know that fully half of them suffer the shame of no longer being virgins, even at their young age?”
Angelina stared at him for a long moment, then, surprisingly, she began to laugh.
Guerrero frowned. “What is wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Y-you!” she managed to say as laughter almost choked her. “You can’t be serious. You murder nuns and kidnap people, and you talk about sin! And then you turn around and think it’s horrible because some of the girls aren’t virgins! Well, I’ve got news for you, Papa—”
“No!” Guerrero came to his feet and started around the desk. “Say no more!”
“I will say it!” she spit at him. “I’m not one of your precious virgins, either, Papa! Hell, I’ve been screwed by half the boys in school—”
His hand lashed out and cracked across her face in a vicious slap. She cried out in pain and staggered backward.
“You lie! You evil, lying girl!” He was shaking from the rage that gripped him.
Angelina lifted a hand to her face, which glowed bright red where he had struck her. “Oh, it’s true, all right,” she said. “Your precious little girl is nothing but a tramp!”
Guerrero wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, as if he could shake all the evil out of her. But he knew that would do no good. She was what she was. He could have the doctor examine her to determine the validity of her claim, but he knew in his heart there was no point in it. She had told him the truth.
It had all been for nothing, he thought despairingly. She was already ruined.
Then he thought of the auction that would take place that night and the ten to fifteen million dollars he expected to make for the Night Wolves before the night was over, and he felt a little better.
His daughter’s innocence was gone. He had been too late to save it. But at least he would be richer.
Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm the emotions raging inside him, he turned to the desk and pressed a button on it. A moment later the door opened and Major Cortez came into the room. “You summoned me, Colonel?”
“Yes, old friend,” Guerrero said. He forced himself to keep his voice flat and hard as he went on. “Take this girl and put her with the others.”
“Colonel?” Cortez couldn’t contain the startled exclamation. At the same time, Angelina said in an anguished voice, “Papa, no!”
“You heard me, Major. Put her with the others. The ones who are ... available to the men.”
Cortez nodded. “As you wish, Colonel.”
Angelina began to scream as Cortez grabbed her arm and began tugging her toward the door. A couple of guards had followed him into the room. At his command they took hold of Angelina, as well. She continued to struggle and cry out.
Guerrero almost weakened before they got her out of the room and the thick door swung shut, muffling her terrified screams. It would have been easy, so easy, to call them back and order them to let her go. But he couldn’t allow himself to do that. She wasn’t the girl he had gone after. That girl was gone forever. She had changed, and she no longer had a place in his life. Therefore, her fate was sealed.
If she wanted to be a whore, then a whore she would be.
Ricardo could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Major Cortez and two other men drag Angelina Salinas into the rear wing of the old mission where the prisoners’ cells were located. She was screaming and fighting, but she was no match for the men who held her. Her long black hair whipped around her head as she jerked from side to side, to no avail. Ricardo was so startled that he couldn’t hold back a question.
“Major, what is this?”
“This girl is to be put with the other prisoners,” Cortez answered stonily. He pointed toward the far end of the corridor, where the cells were located that contained the girls who were fair game for the men. “Back there.”
Ricardo was even more stunned by this. He recognized the girl and knew that she was Colonel Guerrero’s daughter. She was the reason the Night Wolves had invaded the United States and hijacked that school bus and its passengers. And now Guerrero was, well, throwing her to the wolves, so to speak?
It made no sense, but it was obviously happening. The guards pulled the struggling Angelina past the first cells. A couple of other men unlocked one of the chambers and forced its occupants back at gunpoint. Roughly—but not too roughly, because none of these men could completely forget who the girl’s father was—Angelina was thrust through the open door into the cell. Then one of the guards grabbed the door and slammed it shut.
Ricardo glanced at the nearest cell and instantly knew he had made a mistake. The fair-haired girl, the one called Laura, stood there with her companions, gripping the bars, pressing their faces against them so that they could look on in horror as Angelina was dragged past. Ricardo wanted to pull his dark eyes away from Laura’s blue ones, but he could not. Their gazes locked together, and he felt the powerful impact of the fear he saw there, along with the hope that for some reason she still clung to. Had she not figured out by now that he was unable to help them? He wished he could explain about all the time and effort he had put into infiltrating the Night Wolves, not to mention the blood that had been shed.
But even if he could, that wouldn’t make any difference to her. Her life was at stake. She didn’t care about deep-cover operations. Of course she wanted to live and to be free.
Her mouth moved, and he heard her say something over the noise Angelina was making as she began to shriek curses at the guards. “All for nothing.” That was what it sounded like.
All for nothing.
And God help him, he knew exactly what she meant.
“What’s going on?” Carmen said as she clutched at Laura’s arm. “That was Angelina!”
“Why is she here?” Stacy wanted to know. “I thought you said she’s the daughter of that guy Colonel Guerrero!”
Laura nodded. “She is. The fact that she’s here now, with us, must mean that he’s given up on her. He kidnapped her—and us—so that he could force her to live with him and love him again, like he thinks she should. But she wouldn’t, and now she’s paying the price for it.”
“Yeah, Angelina was always one stubborn bitch,” Carmen said.
Stacy added, “But I wouldn’t wish this on her. I can’t believe her own dad would ... would throw her in with the ones who are being ... raped.”
Laura didn’t say anything to that, but she figured that Angelina was relatively safe for the time being. Even though Guerrero’s men apparently had permission to do whatever they wanted to Angelina, she thought most of them would be leery of actually attacking her, just in case the colonel changed his mind later.
But if he didn’t change his mind—if Angelina was
included in the auction that would be taking place in just a few hours—she would be sold off to the highest bidder and then there would be no saving her.
There would be no saving any of them. Time was rapidly running out, and once the auction got under way, it would be too late. Their dismal fates would overtake them like a runaway freight train.
It seemed now that their only hope was Ricardo Benitez. Laura had caught his eye as Angelina was being dragged past, and she thought her anguished expression and mental pleading had struck a nerve in him.
But she had thought that before, and still he hadn’t done a damned thing to help them. He might sympathize with their plight, but he wasn’t going to cross Colonel Guerrero and the rest of the Night Wolves.
Sympathy wasn’t going to do Laura and the others a damned bit of good, not now. There wasn’t time anymore to play on his guilt. Ricardo had to make up his mind, once and for all, about what he was going to do, and Laura had the sinking feeling that the decision had already been made.
She had pinned her hopes on him, and he had let her down. Now she and the others would pay the price.
Suddenly, Carmen’s suicide idea didn’t look so bad after all. There might still be time to cheat Colonel Guerrero out of his profit. That was the only blow they could strike against him.
But somehow, no matter how much she wanted to give up, a tiny flame of hope still flickered deep inside Laura... .
Thirty-four
Tom saw the cloud of dust first, spiraling up into the hot, dry, late-afternoon air several miles distant from the old ranch. Here in this mostly flat terrain, such things were visible for a long way. Frowning, he stepped over to the chopper where Terry Jennings was going over a last-minute checklist with Sonia Alvarez and asked, “Captain, do you happen to have a pair of binoculars handy?”
Jennings said, “Sure,” and reached into a compartment inside the little helicopter’s cockpit. He brought out a pair of military binoculars and handed them to Tom.
Invasion Usa: Border War Page 22
