Aim And Fire r5-3

by Cliff Ryder

  “¿Que?”

  “I said—” Nate hooked two fingers in the man’s nose and lifted, making him stand on his tiptoes and grunt in pain, tears filling his eyes “—take off the goddamn shirt, or else I make you strip bucknaked out here.”

  “Nate—” Tracy began, but was stopped by his curt head shake.

  The zeta waved his arms helplessly. “Sí, sí. Just stop!”

  Nate set him back down, wiped his fingers on the man’s shirtsleeve.

  The zeta stared at him now, his dark eyes filled with hatred. “¡Pinche cabrón!”

  “Yeah, yeah, let’s go, show that skin.”

  The man slowly took off his shirt, revealing a wealth of tattoos, including the one Nate had been looking for—the Aztec warrior head, this one with no feathers—etched on his chest, above his heart. “All right, Montezuma, you can put it back on.” He was about to find someone and commandeer their ride when Tracy cocked her head and looked over at the abandoned house.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Nate frowned as he stared at her. “I didn’t hear anything.

  Come on, we need to get back.”

  Tracy, however, ignored him, walking to the agent watching over the group. “Was the back of the house cleared?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Just a sec, Nate.” She trotted toward the side of the house, listening intently for the noise she swore she had heard. As she approached, she heard it again—the whimper of a child.

  “Nate, I’ve got someone back here.” She ran around to the back, but didn’t see anything but overgrown scrub brush. “Hola, where are you?” she called out.

  The whimpering continued, and Tracy homed in on the noise, spotting a thin, crushed trail of brown grass near the corner of the house. Kneeling, she peered into what looked like a narrow crawl space under the house, where the noises were coming from.

  “¿Hola, chica, quien es?” Tracy moved closer to the black hole, trying to see inside.

  The face of a small girl, maybe about Jennifer’s age, appeared in the opening, tears running down her cheeks as she answered Tracy in Spanish. “My mama…she told me to hide in here…now she won’t wake up.”

  “Okay, sweetheart, we’ll take care of her. What’s your name?”

  “Julia.”

  “Hi, Julia. My name is Tracy, and I’m going to help both of you. But first, can you come out of there?”

  The girl drew back into the darkness. “I won’t leave her!”

  “All right, then, if you don’t come out, I’ll have to come in.” Tracy got down on her hands and knees just as Nate rounded the corner.

  “What in the hell are you doing?”

  “There’s a girl in here, and her mother has passed out, probably from heatstroke.”

  “For God’s sake, hold on. There might be rattlesnakes or scorpions under there, or who knows what. Jesus, I’ll be right back.” Nate took off around the house.

  “Just stay where you are, sweetheart, we’re coming.”

  Tracy stayed by the opening until Nate returned with a large flashlight. He shone the beam inside, revealing a stick-thin girl crouched over the still form of her mother, lying on the ground facing away from them.

  “Don’t see any rattlers, and I don’t hear any, either, but let’s get ’em both out of there right away.” He squatted down and moved toward the entrance, but the girl shrieked, a high, piercing sound that cut right through Tracy’s ears, and scurried away from him.

  “Nate, maybe you’d better let me handle this. I’ll get the girl out, and once we’re clear, you get the mother.”

  Tracy edged him aside and got on her hands and knees.

  “Keep that light on me.” She crawled into the space, gasping at the intense heat.

  Julia edged farther away, torn between her urge to hide and her desire to protect her mother. Tracy tried to calm her down by speaking in Spanish. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s all right. Can you come over to me?”

  “Help my mother, please.”

  Tracy held out her arms. “If you can come over here, then we can get out of here. The other agent can get your mother out of here, but we have to get out of the way first.” She nodded back at Nate, bent over at the entrance and smiled.

  “He’s too big, so we have to leave before he can come in.”

  The girl peered past her at the opening. “Promise he won’t hurt her?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “And hope to die?”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Come on, sweetie, you must be thirsty.”

  The girl hesitated a moment longer, then scrambled into Tracy’s arms, who hugged her tightly, feeling her ribs underneath the soiled shirt, and her hammering heart underneath. Her skin was hot and dry, and Tracy was sure the poor thing was dehydrated, too. Still holding her, she crawled backward on her knees, uncaring of the dirt being ground into her slacks. When she got outside, the air felt at least twenty degrees cooler.

  “Here.” Nate passed her a chilled bottle of water.

  “Slow sips, not too much, or she’ll get sick. I’ll get her mom.” He disappeared under the house, leaving Tracy to cradle Julia on her lap and dole out small swallows of water. A few seconds later, he reappeared, moving slowly as he dragged the mother out from the blackness. “She’s in bad shape. We need to get her to a hospital right away.”

  As soon as she was clear, he scooped her up in his arms.

  “Come on.”

  “Hold on to me, honey.” Tracy picked up Julia, shocked at how small and light she was, and followed Nate out to the rest of the agents.

  “Hey, I need to get this woman into a hospital ASAP, so I’m borrowing your truck. Got any liquids inside?”

  Nate grabbed the keys that were tossed to him and opened the back door, laying her on the bench seat. “Sit next to her and keep a blanket handy. If you can, try to get her to take some water. Once her temperature starts to come down—”

  “She may go into shock, yes, I know the symptoms,”

  Tracy said.

  “Good.” He slid into the driver’s seat, cranked the air conditioner up to regulate the temperature, turned the truck around and kicked up dirt as he headed down to the road.

  Once there, he got to the nearest highway that led back to El Paso, then headed for the south side of the city.

  In the back, Tracy alternated between giving Julia sips of water and trying to get some liquid into her mother.

  When the girl began to shiver from the temperature change, she had Nate turn down the air conditioner, and wrapped her in the blanket.

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the emergency entrance of Providence Memorial. The SUV had barely stopped when Nate got out and was pulling the mother out of the backseat, carrying her through the double doors.

  “Got an undocumented alien with heatstroke and dehydration, suggest IV fluids and observation,” he said.

  Tracy noticed that the nurse who took charge of the patient, a chunky bottle blonde, looked startled when Nate came in, but covered her surprise under a professional mask and got a gurney ready to take her into a room. Nate and Tracy followed, and got information from Julia to fill out the necessary forms to admit her mother to the hospital.

  When that was done, the nurse—she introduced herself as Sharon—asked to examine Julia in the back, leaving Nate and Tracy in the crowded waiting room.

  “How long are we going to wait here?” Tracy asked.

  “Well, we’ll make sure she’s all right—I imagine they’ll want to watch her overnight—and then tomorrow both she and her daughter will have to be collected, processed and returned to wherever they came from.”

  “Isn’t there any way to keep them here? I’m sure they don’t have a lot to look forward to going back.”

  Nate turned to look at her, his face neutral. “Look, I know this is your first hands-on experience with this, but we’re going to follow procedure just like every other UA we apprehend, whether they’ve got o
ne child or a dozen.

  Like as not, as soon as she gets back, she’s gonna turn right around and head north again, and keep tryin’ until she either makes it across or dies in the attempt, just like tens of thousands of others every year.”

  Tracy couldn’t believe her ears. “Jesus, you sound like you’re herding cattle. These are human beings you’re so casually dismissing.”

  “Yeah, human beings that are breaking our laws to enter this country.” He waved at the people in the waiting room, more than half of whom were Hispanic. “How many of these people do you think are here legally? When they get medical care—care they’re not entitled to and have no way to pay for—the hospitals have to eat that cost. There’s no reimbursement from the government or anyone. There are medical centers all over Texas and throughout the Southwest going broke because they can’t keep up with the flood of illegal immigrants coming through their doors.

  When they close, they don’t just stop treating illegals— they stop treating the surrounding communities, too.”

  Nate glanced around again, but Tracy wasn’t sure if he was checking to see if anyone heard him, or if anyone was going to challenge him. “UAs get their forged papers and green cards, get jobs here with companies willing to hire them without doing the proper checks, and have their kids educated—also paid for by the state and federal governments—and most of the money they earn goes back to their family in Mexico. A good cause, sure, but every dollar sent comes out of our economic system. And I haven’t even mentioned the criminals that flee to America to commit more crimes against our citizens, or the ever popular and increasing drug trade that flows across our border, as well.”

  Tracy brushed a lank lock of hair out of her face, more aware by the minute that she hadn’t had a shower since early that morning. “I know the issues the Customs and Border Protection faces down here, Nate—”

  Nate rubbed a hand over his eyes, which came away coated in dust and sweat. “Spoken like a true bureaucrat.

  Maybe that’s the real difference between us and you. Up there you call them issues. Down here we call them problems, and they’re gettin’ larger every single day.”

  “Well, of course we can’t have criminals coming here, but still, the INS system should be corrected—it’s ridiculous to make people wait for six or eight or ten years to immigrate to America.”

  “I agree, but that isn’t my problem—sorry, my issue— down here, but something for you folks in Washington to chew on. However, if you come up with a quick, easy, fool-proof way to solve the immigration process, I’m sure INS would love to hear it. My only problem at the moment, along with the rest of the CBP, is to find a way to locate and detain anyone crossing the border into America who doesn’t have the right to be here, and if we could, to figure out a way to make them stay on their side of the river until they can come here legally.”

  Tracy gritted her teeth, trying to rein in her temper.

  “You keep saying ‘you’ and ‘I’ like we’re two different groups. Last I checked, we were still on the same side.”

  Nate shook his head. “Maybe so, but not in the way you and I see those issues of yours.” He looked around her.

  “Nurse’s comin’ back.”

  Sharon walked over to them. “Mrs. Martinez is resting and taking intravenous liquids, so she should be all right for now. We’ll monitor her overnight, just in case.”

  “Good, we’ll check on her tomorrow, and someone from the agency will be by to pick her and her daughter up later, assuming she’s ready to travel,” Nate said.

  “Call about midmorning—we’ll know more then.” The nurse looked as if she wanted to say more, but didn’t.

  Nate nodded. “Thanks. Someone will be in touch later.”

  He turned on his heel and headed for the doors, leaving Tracy behind.

  “Are you his partner?” the nurse asked, her expression neutral, although her seemingly nonchalant tone was anything but.

  As soon as she heard the question, Tracy figured out what was going on between the two of them, but was too tired to blush at the inference the nurse had drawn. “Just temporarily.

  I’m from out of town, here on assignment. Besides, I’m not sure I could handle being his partner for more than a few days.” She offered a wry grin, and got a small one in return.

  “Yeah.” Sharon’s eyes hadn’t left the doors Nate had walked through. “Is that why you’re still standing here?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I just like pissing him off.” Something slammed against the glass, and Tracy looked back to see Nate standing there with a “what the hell are you doing?” look on his face. “Duty calls. Thanks for looking after them,” she said.

  “Oh, sure, at Providence the revolving door is always open.” Sharon shook her head. “They’ll be all right—until the next time they try to cross.”

  Tracy watched her walk away, then she turned to catch up with Nate before he decided to really leave her at the hospital.

  “You girls have a good time catching up?” Nate said snarkily.

  Tracy considered teasing him about the nurse, but stole a look at his face that told her it wasn’t a good idea. Instead, she dug the phone out of her purse. “I’d better check in.”

  She waited until they got back into the truck before flipping it open, bracing herself against the door as Nate tore out of the hospital driveway on squealing tires.

  Kate looked as if she was sleeping in her chair, tilted back with her eyes closed. In reality she was deep in thought, letting all of the sketchy data she had flow through her mind while she brainstormed. She was searching for a logical connection that might give them a lead, anything to go on.

  The problem was that the trail was already cold when Kryukov got the bomb—well, what he thought was the bomb. They had researched the arms dealer’s extensive list of associates, searching for the missing link between him and al-Kharzi. Although they had connected him with several other terrorist groups, they hadn’t come up with anything connecting the two men.

  Of course, it’s not like I could just log on to www.terrorist.com and find whatever I’m looking for, she thought.

  Although the various U.S. intelligence agencies had made some very good strides, they still had a long way to go.

  Getting accurate, timely data was still difficult at best.

  With the 9/11 attacks, there hadn’t been any excuse for intelligence agencies dropping the ball—there had been a clear, definitive chain of ignored or passed-over evidence.

  But if a day ever came where a terrorist group managed to stay off America’s radar until they struck, then she didn’t want to see what would happen in the aftermath. That’s one of the reasons I’m in this job in the first place, and supposed to be good at it. But all I’ve got is three men, a truck and a nuke to go on…a truck…

  Something about the truck bothered her, but before Kate could grasp it, her computer chirped, signaling an incoming call. Let’s see, who am I this time? she wondered. It was from Robert Lashti. Hmm, I hope this is interesting.

  Kate tilted her chair forward and slipped on her wireless headset. “This is Primary.”

  “Primary, this is Alpha. I’ve got some information on that switched package you’ll find interesting.”

  “Go ahead, Alpha.”

  “The acquaintance I made recently was very informative. He said that one of Kryukov’s men had run a side deal with a man claiming to be with a group known as the Fist of Allah. The buyer paid Kryukov’s man at least two million for the suitcase and its contents. They mentioned a ship going to Mexico in front of the seller, not knowing that he spoke Arabic.”

  “Mexico? He’s sure of that, Alpha?”

  “If you’ve ever watched the Chinese interrogate someone, you wouldn’t ask that question, Primary. Mexico is confirmed as the suitcase’s destination. He didn’t know anything beyond that.”

  “Great work, Alpha. Time to come on home.”

  “With pleasure, Primary. Just one thing—when Kr
yukov pops up on our radar again, I want a shot at him.”

  “I can’t guarantee that, but we’ll see what we can do.

  Primary out.”

  As Kate disconnected, her computer chirped again. It was Tracy. That girl must be psychic, she thought.

  “Agent Stephanie Cassell,” Kate said.

  “Stephanie, it’s Tracy.”

  “It’s good to hear from you. Are you all right?” Kate already knew the answer—although from what they had heard during the chase, she and Denny had had their doubts until it was over—but she couldn’t mention that at the moment.

  “Yes, apparently I got a less-than-traditional border welcome here.”

  Kate heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort or guffaw in the background, and a quick check of the camera revealed that they were in a truck of some kind.

  “What did you find out?” she asked.

  Tracy took a few moments to fill her in on what they had discovered, which wasn’t much. “The best thing we can say is that there was definitely something radioactive in that barn in the last two days, but that’s it. I’ve got the team staying up all night analyzing the soil if they have to, but it’s doubtful they’ll come up with anything useful in the next twelve hours.”

  “Okay. I’m pleased to let you know we’ve confirmed that the device was delivered to Mexico, but after the killings in the desert, the trail goes cold. We’ve been crunching data here, as well, but haven’t come up with anything else. We’ve been concentrating on nontraditional vectors, but there’s way too many of them to evaluate quickly, even just in the area. What about your partner, does he have any ideas?” Kate asked.

  “Oh, he’s got ideas, all right. It’s just that he’s a bit re-luctant to share them.”

  “Well, now isn’t the time to be holding out. Shall I talk to him?”

  “I don’t know if that will do any good, but…” Kate heard muffled voices in the background.

  “Yes, Special Agent Cassell, how may I help you?”

  The file Kate had reviewed on Nate Spencer had indicated that he was a cowboy, in law-enforcement parlance—aguy who got the job done, but who took unacceptable risks compared to the results. He was a good agent, but one that chafed under authority. Kate could relate. Figuring the quickest way to get through to him would be with brute power, she didn’t mince words.