“Why are people more content? Why don’t more run?”
“I’m not sure, sweetie; my guess is the government’s been more effective at keeping outside information away from the people.”
Mia thought about the article. They weren’t doing a foolproof job.
“What happened to her? Your Steffy?”
“I’m not sure. Hopefully she made it out of the country. It would be too dangerous if she tried to contact us.”
It was clear to Mia this was a sore subject for him. Her instincts told her to reach out and give him comfort, but she still wasn’t convinced of his intentions.
“Why don’t you just adopt a boy?”
“It’s hard; the government wants babies turned over. We’ve taken in older boys who we thought of as sons, but they never want to stay. They’re too programmed not to accept love.” Alex reached out and grabbed Mia’s hand. “But will you let us help you? For Steffy?”
His last comment resonated through her. She wasn’t sure if it was because of his charm, because she felt bad for him, or because she had no other option, but Mia began to nod her head. He squealed with excitement, hugged her, and inadvertently placed his hand on her injured head.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said. “At least it will make you look a little more like a boy. Let’s go tell Frank!”
Before Mia could respond, Alex had her by the hand and was pulling her out of the room, yelling for his partner down the stairs. Mia found his enthusiasm infectious. As they rounded the bottom of the stairs toward the kitchen, both of them stopped, stunned. Frank was sitting at the kitchen table with a calm look on his face while a knife blade was being pressed against his neck.
Standing right behind him was an enraged Andrew. It was the second time Mia had seen that look.
Chapter 33
It is common for wives to take on some traits of their husbands—after all, it is the woman’s responsibility to know what her husband likes, in order to please him—but a good wife will ensure she retains her delicate feminine traits.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
Let her go or I’ll kill him.” Spit flew out Andrew’s mouth with each word. Mia was so taken aback that she forgot Alex was holding her hand. She shook it free and went toward Andrew.
“Put the knife down!” she said. He did not look happy.
“Put the knife down, now!” Mia said more loudly. Andrew looked down at his hand, then back at her.
“I can’t,” he said. “If you don’t want to kill them that’s fine. We have to at least tie them up and get a head start.”
“No.” Mia was growing frustrated and so was Alex. He let out a long wail. Mia hoped to get this situation under control before anything happened. Andrew had made it clear that he had no issue with disposing of either of these two.
“They want to help us. Let him go.”
The sole sound in the whole kitchen was Alex’s cry. Mia feared he would charge at Andrew any second.
“Help us? Are you out of your mind?” Andrew said. “How can I trust they aren’t tricking you?”
“Don’t. Don’t trust them, trust me.” At this point Mia was right next to Andrew, placing her hand on his arm, trying to get him to lower his weapon. He looked straight in her eyes; she could see the indecision in them. She felt heavy with pain for Andrew; he was so damaged he didn’t know how to trust. She needed to guide him through this. She let her face relax and nodded her head slowly, never breaking eye contact. His face responded to hers and he let her push his arm down. She heard Frank breathe a sigh of relief and run to Alex. The couple wrapped their arms around each other. Mia was uncertain just who was comforting whom.
She turned her attention back to Andrew. She realized they had never intentionally been this close before. Seeing Frank and Alex together made her want to embrace him. She had never felt a romantic inkling toward anyone in her life and didn’t know what to do. She hoped he would pick her up and hug her out of relief. She wanted to tell him they would be all right, that he would survive. He looked right back at her, his eyes unflinching, and his face went from cold to warm, like he was falling into her. Their trance was broken when Whitney spoke, her voice shaky.
“What’s going on?”
The moment between Mia and Andrew passed. She turned her attention back toward Alex and Frank, hoping the situation with Andrew hadn’t changed their minds.
“We are going to help your friend,” Alex said with pride. Frank nodded his head in agreement and the two hugged again. Alex rested his head on Frank’s shoulder. Mia assumed they were both thinking of their Steffy.
“And you too, Whitney,” Mia said. It had never occurred to her that the men didn’t realize Whitney was a girl, too. Whitney seemed reluctant to accept their help; she did little to hide her fear.
“Maybe even the warrior, too,” Frank said, looking at Andrew. Mia was relieved. She had a feeling all was forgiven on Frank’s end. Andrew, on the other hand, still looked a little uneasy. It didn’t matter; Mia was happy. With the Piozzis’ help, Mexico would no longer be three weeks away.
The new friends all sat down to a lavish dinner prepared by Alex. It was a chicken dish served on fine china. Mia knew this was a fancy dinner. Her mother had spent long hours teaching her how to cook, but Mia did not think she was capable of creating such elegance.
She picked up her fork and knife and sampled a small piece. The flavor of the cream sauce was light and intense at the same time. She sighed with pleasure. It was clear not everyone felt the same way. While Whitney was enjoying her food, Andrew was having a difficult time with the fork and knife. He looked awkward and uncomfortable. She doubted he had received much training in sophisticated dining.
Always the polite host, Frank dropped his fork and knife and began picking off little pieces, sliding them through the sauce and popping them in his mouth. Even grumpy Andrew smiled at his gesture. Mia wondered if Andrew felt bad about the earlier events but doubted he wasted his time on regrets.
Mia was so eager to learn about her new trail to Mexico. The Piozzis wouldn’t present their plans until after dinner, but the anticipation was driving her crazy. Mia wished Whitney would act inappropriately and broach the subject, but Whitney still seemed stunned by the day’s events. Mia had to try to bring up the subject. Swallowing a bite, she made her opening remarks.
“So, will you two take us to the border?”
Everyone continued to look down at their food. Neither Frank nor Alex made an attempt to answer, but it looked like Alex was holding in laughter and trying not to spit out his food.
“We don’t have a death wish, sweetie,” Alex managed to say without laughing. “You need a trained professional to get you over.”
The border was long on Mia’s map. She was sure there would be at least one spot where they could just march right across. It would be impossible to guard the whole thing. She looked to Andrew for support, but he didn’t have any to offer.
“The whole border is protected by an electric fence now. The Mexicans don’t enjoy escapees coming into their country,” Frank said. “And after we sent our army to stop the drug cartel wars, they agreed to never allow any unserved men over, which is what you are trying to parade around as.”
While Mia and Whitney might have been posing, Andrew actually was an unserved man. She was hoping to read his face for some response. She was still unsure how far he was planning on accompanying them, but he stayed unflinching. Mia forced any notion she had about Andrew’s crossing over out of her mind. His priority had always been reporting for duty, and she was sure that hadn’t changed. He just wanted to make sure they made it to the border safely. It was a waste of her efforts to think his coming was a possibility.
“But they don’t send you back, right? That’s the whole reason we picked Mexico over Canada.” Anxiety was overtaking Mia.
“No, there is no formal agreement about girls crossing over. They don’t care. They have enough problems of their own, but bounty hunte
rs might try to stop you. They’re private people paid for by your father or husband to track you,” Frank said.
Everything was always harder than she had anticipated, but it was still worth it. She would rather work hard for her freedom than live as a lazy prisoner.
“Maybe we should just go back and apologize,” Whitney said quietly.
Mia had almost forgotten about Whitney. She was being reserved. Mia gave her friend a little kick. They had discussed this before; Mia couldn’t risk losing her. Whitney didn’t seem to grasp the full implications of Corinna’s message, the photo of the woman in white at the man’s feet. Mia assumed seeing Andrew with the knife this afternoon had jolted Whitney, and she needed to refocus her friend. Even if Mia was willing to risk Whitney’s return, it wouldn’t be fair to Andrew. He was in too deep now, and Mia owed him. If any of them went back, it would mean lots of trouble for him.
“What’s been said about us on the news?” Whitney moved on to a new topic, rubbing her leg. No one else had heard her previous comment.
Mia gave Alex a pleading look. She was aware that nothing had been mentioned about Whitney. It was almost as if she’d never existed. Nobody missed her or cared. Lucky for Mia, Alex caught on.
“They say you’re clever and will be hard to spot.” Alex smiled.
Whitney tried to hide her pride at Alex’s last statement. Mia found the whole thing disgusting, but Whitney still bought into certain aspects of the system. Including the idea that being desired by a man was the most important thing in life.
“I know Alex wanted to wait until after we finished his marvelous dinner—thank you again—but since we are on the subject already, I found someone who’s willing to help you. This whole thing is cryptic, and we’ve only done it once before. I was surprised to get a response so fast,” Frank said.
“Is it safe?” Andrew asked. Mia thought he was having a difficult time handing over the reins to someone else and expected to hear some protest from him. “I like to know what I’m walking into.”
“It’s never one hundred percent safe, but I think this is our best option. I’m sure you don’t need reminding that helping you puts Alex and me in a dangerous situation. If we’re caught, we’re looking at death, or life in service. The person who is going to help you next is in the same position. In the event we get caught, they don’t want us to turn them in, so all I have is a drop point and some instructions for you.”
“How do you know it’s not a trap?” Andrew asked.
“I don’t. It’s all been set up online, but based on the language used I am pretty sure this person is legit and safe,” Frank answered.
“No. We can fare better on our own,” Andrew said.
“When will we be leaving?” Mia asked over Andrew. She appreciated his concern, but she knew this was their best shot. “You agreed to get us to the border. This is how we will cross,” she told Andrew.
“You’re not thinking rationally,” Andrew said. “We’ll stick to my plan. Make money to get down there. Then worry about the next step.”
“Sorry, but the whole reason I am doing this is so I don’t have to take orders my whole life. I am making a decision and going this way. You can come or not. Besides, if we stick with your plan, what happens when you need to report for service? Where will that leave Whitney and me?”
Mia wanted Andrew to say he would cross too and that he wouldn’t leave her. But she knew he wouldn’t. She could feel the nerves in her body disintegrating. Even though she longed for his company, for the first time in her life she had spoken to a male as if she were his equal. She had to keep herself from smiling. As soon as the dumbstruck look faded from Andrew’s face, he nodded his head in agreement.
“So, when will we leave?” Mia asked again.
“In a couple of hours,” Frank said.
Tension refilled the room. Mia had never thought it would be that soon. She had assumed it would take a week or so to get things into play. It was apparent she wasn’t the only one who was surprised. Alex’s mouth hung open.
“I know you wanted more time with them, but this isn’t about bonding. I found someone willing to help, and we need to move.” Frank spoke to Alex with authority. “Why don’t you take the girls upstairs and give them some new clothes, roughen them up a little? Andrew and I will take care of the dishes and get their packs ready.”
Before Alex could protest, Frank started clearing the table. Andrew didn’t look too pleased with his latest assignment, but Mia was sure he had more practice with washing dishes than he wanted to let on. Alex threw his napkin down and signaled with his head for the girls to follow. Mia had no clue where they were going next, but she felt a sense of control, false though it might be. It felt good.
Chapter 34
Respect, honor, obey. These are the promises you make to your country. While these promises stay intact until your death, you will reap the rewards of your oath postservice.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
Dust was everywhere in this area, Grant thought to himself. He was starting to hate gravel and rocks. He wanted to get back to civilization with paved roads. It was nighttime, but the dust was still visible in the headlights of the black SUV. He had decided it was best to ditch his chopper for such a short drive.
Leonard pulled into the parking lot. The crummy little bar had no sign. The only indication that it was open was the crowd in the rear.
Toward the back of the lot, tear-down bleachers had been set up. Some holiday lights lit the area as men screamed. Grant guessed there was a fight going on. He had never understood the country lifestyle; even in his younger days he always found work within the city limits. This was barbaric, even to him.
While Grant had an air of sophistication to him, Leonard and the young Agent Ross did not. Ross looked fresh out of service, younger than Grant, with short black hair and pale skin. He wasn’t intimidating in the least. Both men wanted to go check out the fight. Grant shook his head. He couldn’t imagine either of them as fighters in their youth. If they had been, Grant, the city boy, could have dispatched them with ease.
Grant held open the door to the dusty, dirty bar and ushered Leonard and Ross inside. Both of his comrades were surprised he didn’t want more men on the case, but Grant had his personal team on standby if they were needed. All that mattered to him right now was to have a couple of men to bounce ideas off of. Leonard and Ross would do just fine.
The interior of the bar was just as empty as the outside was crowded. Not a soul but the bartender, yet he was as swamped as ever, filling glasses at a frantic pace. He was preparing them for the men watching the fight outside. Grant had a seat and decided to give him a minute before ordering.
Once things calmed down a bit, the bartender yelled toward them. “What can I get you?”
“I have some questions for you,” Grant said.
The worker looked like he didn’t want to waste his time on stupid questions when he could be serving drinks. Grant decided not to wait for the chance to hear an objection.
“We’re looking for three kids. Did you see any new faces around here today?”
“I don’t talk if you don’t drink. Rules are rules.” The bartender walked over with three mugs and plopped them down. “Six dollars, please.”
Grant sneered at the gross liquid in front of him. He had a feeling the main ingredient was muck. He pulled out his wallet and removed a hundred-dollar bill. He was not in the mood for games. He slammed the bill down, drawing the bartender’s attention. The bartender stopped and looked at Grant and his group. His expression changed.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize. RAG agents. I have the utmost respect for you guys. Appreciate what you do; beers are on the house.”
Grant was always amused at what respect a uniform could gain. For all this bartender knew, Leonard and Ross were psycho killers, but with their badges on, they got instant respect. Grant had begun to slide the money back into his wallet when the bartender grabbed it.
“Yo
urs is still two dollars.” He gave a sarcastic smile and grabbed the cash, walking over to the register and changing it out. Grant had a feeling this place wasn’t hurting for money. “I didn’t see any groups of three at all. Can’t tell you the last time that happened. There are groups of one, maybe two.” A man came in from outside and picked up a tray the bartender had prepared, dropping off a stack of cash and a new list. Without missing a beat, the bartender prepared more drinks.
“It is impossible to have a group of one,” Grant said. “If there’s just one person it can’t be a group.”
Neither Leonard nor Ross smiled at his correction. Grant had a feeling the bartender’s compliments were going to their heads.
“What about just a single new kid?” Ross asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“Sure, about two or three of them. I think one is already dead and the other two aren’t fighting until later.”
Leonard beamed at Ross, eager to watch the night’s festivities. Grant knew Andrew wasn’t one of the fighters. If a teenage boy was protecting two runaways, it would be unthinkable that he would enter a fight.
“This young man, he wouldn’t be looking for a fight. He would want real work, or even just a ride,” Grant said.
“None like that, but I work one o’clock to one o’clock. You’ll have to ask the other bartender.”
“Could you call him?” Leonard asked.
Grant noticed Leonard was quick to request this before Grant had the chance. Grant had imagined that the bartender would make another wisecrack and Grant could crack his head open on the bar. Now Leonard had spoiled some of the fun.
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