by Val Welch
Walter shook his head and pointed toward Pup who was whining and running through the scrub brush off to the right of them. Carson jumped off the big bay and ran towards the area Pup was working.
Gabe grasped Walter by the shoulder. “Let him go.”
Walter turned Moses loose. He lunged into the brush and promptly rolled over onto his back.
“Okay, call him out.” Gabe said. He waited until Moses reluctantly returned to Walter and then crawled into the brush and searched the area. He found a rose petal, picked it up and shoved it into his pocket. He glanced at Carson who was watching Pup as he howled and circled in the brush.
Walter was waiting as Gabe climbed out of the brush. “Let’s go see who Pup’s found.”
Gabe’s gut clinched as they walked over to where Carson stood watching Pup nose a patch of recently disturbed soil.
Walter turned on his heel and started back to the mules. “I’ll go get the shovel.”
Carson’s face looked like pure hell. Gabe laid his good hand on his shoulder. “It’s not her. Moses would be on it,” he said, surprised by how confident he sounded.
Carson shrugged his hand off. “What did you find over there?”
Gabe slowly shook his head. “Nothing.”
Carson tore off his sunglasses and glared at him. “Empty your fucking pocket.”
Gabe shrugged and pulled the rose petal out of his pocket. “It’s a hybrid called Scarlet Moss, you can’t buy them commercially. They have to be grafted. I probably have the only bush in the state. When was she in my house?”
Carson looked at it and exhaled. “We were there right before they took her. It was her idea. We were looking for evidence you were involved with EFA. We had sex on your bed and the rose petals were a memento.”
Gabe forced a calm nod. This was not the time for this discussion. He put the petal back in his pocket as Walter returned with the shovel and handed it to Carson.
The grave was very fresh and shallow. In less than two feet they found the body of a white male. He’d been shot execution style behind the right ear. Despite the exit wound on his lower jaw, Gabe recognized him as one of Ben Hawkins’ game rangers.
“Do you know him?” Walter asked Gabe as they looked down at his face.
“Yeah, I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him with Ben Hawkins. Carson, how long do you think he’s been here?”
“Rigors gone, probably a couple of days,” he said, squatting down and looking at the partially exhumed body.
Gabe started pushing soil back over him with his boot. “All right. Let’s cover him up, mark it and hit the trail.” Carson took the shovel and quickly finished the job as Gabe tied streamers of police tape on the bushes surrounding the body.
Nobody said it, but finding the body had scared all three of them. Given the obvious cold-blooded murder of the game ranger, Gabe no longer believed that Troy and Joaquin could take care of Shelby. He was filled with a deep dread of what they were going to find on the trail ahead, along with the urgent need to hurry.
Moses must have felt the need to hurry as well, because as soon as Walter gave him the scent he bolted from the clearing. It was a breakneck pace for the footsore old dog. When they heard the roaring of the river, Walter called Moses back. He resisted and whined about it, which made all of them believe they were damn close to Shelby.
Gabe and Carson dismounted and quickly went to work readying their gear for the walk into the mine. Walter walked over to them and handed Carson a rifle. “Here, use my backup rifle, G-man. That handgun you’ve got is not going to be much use where you’re going.”
Carson took the Winchester 30-06 and looked through the scope. “Thanks. Has it been sighted in?”
“Yeah, it’s dead on at a hundred yards,” Walter said, turning to spit and wiping the back of his tobacco stained hand over his mouth.
Carson slung the rifle over his shoulder. “I’ll get it back to you.”
Walter handed him three boxes of shells. “Listen up. I know that you being a badass Marine you’ve probably seen some action. But, you two are walking straight into a den of rattlers who’ll kill you quicker than snot. Keep your heads down and work together. I don’t want to be packing your sorry asses out of here slung over my mules.”
Carson laughed and glanced over at Gabe, who smiled and just shook his head. “Come on, Pilgrim, let’s hit the trail.”
Carson grinned and picked up his pack. “What’s your favorite John Wayne movie?”
Gabe waited for him and they fell into pace together. “Rio Bravo. Doesn’t Walter remind you of Stumpy?”
“God yeah, he’s a dead ringer for Walter Brennen.” Carson laughed. “Shelby always accuses me of going John Wayne.”
“Yeah? Well, today I get to be John Wayne and you’re bringing up the rear. Because Shelby would kill me if anything happened to you.”
Carson shook his head. “Nope, you’re not rescuing my girl.”
Gabe stopped in the trail and looked at him. “Carson, hell, I know she’s your girl. I just want all of us, including my chicken-shit cousins, to come out of this alive.”
Carson looked ahead up the trail. “We’re partners. We go in together and cover each other’s asses. Okay?”
“Yeah,” Gabe said as they started walking again. “I think we should move up into the tree line for cover before we round the next bend.”
“I think you’re right. It’s going to be harder going, but we need to maintain the element of surprise as long as possible.”
“What kind of training has Shelby had that will help her in this situation?”
“She’s probably the best equipped agent in the unit to deal with this. She routinely kicks our butts in close quarters contact and she still holds the record for the fastest walk-out in survival training. I was second and came in two hours after her.” He laughed. “I found her sitting in the hotel bar doing shots of tequila with the guys from homeland security.”
Gabe laughed too. “I can see that happening. I wonder how Troy and Joaquin are getting along with her.”
Thirty-Four
Joaquin watched paralyzed as Shelby closed the mine door. Too late, he sprang for it and tripped over Troy who was still doubled over on the ground. When Joaquin heard the latch drop into place, he yelled, “Oh shit, we are so fucked,” and started pounding on the door.
“Joaquin, stop,” Troy groaned. “Let her get away, for God’s sake.”
He knew he should listen to Troy, but what would happen to Rebeca and the children if he let her go? He’d put all their lives at risk and the situation just kept escalating out of control. The fear for his family was almost overwhelming. When had he become the kind of man who was afraid to do the right thing?
He stepped back over Troy in the dark and heard the first buzz. He froze.
“Oh shit, where the fuck is it?” Troy groaned, slowly rising to his feet and digging a book of matches out of his pocket. He struck the first one as the buzzing seemed to retreat. “There it goes,” he said, pointing out the four-foot timber rattler slithering further into the mine.
Joaquin stifled a scream and high-stepped it over to a rock ledge about five feet above the floor as the match sputtered out. Troy lit another one and checked on Russ who was sitting down with his back against the wall, still dazed. “Russ, get up on the ledge before a rattler bites you,” Troy said, moving toward the ledge.
It took four of their precious matches to get all three of them and the sleeping bag up on the ledge. “How long are we going to give her before we bust out?” Russ asked, sitting between the two beefier men.
“As long as we can,” Troy said. “In the meantime, let’s talk about how we’re going to get out of this compound alive.”
Joaquin tugged the sleeping bag toward his end. “I can’t believe she left us in here.”
Troy tugged the bag back toward him. “We were going to do it to her.”
“Yeah. But we were going to get her out eventually.”
Russ pulled t
he bag up to his chin. “God, she’s hot.”
Troy laughed. “Hey, watch it. That’s my future cousin you’re talking about.”
Russ sighed. “I’m sick of this place and these people. Everyone just wants it over, but is too scared to do anything about it. In the meantime, things are going from bad to worse. Dante shot a game ranger that stumbled in here the other day … just walked right up, put the gun behind his ear and shot him.”
“The whole shooting down airliners with hundreds of people is way over the top. We’ve got to do something to stop that,” Troy said.
“What happens now?” Joaquin asked. “Do you think he’s going to kill all of us?”
“Oh yeah,” Russ said. “He needs the two of you to collect the ransom for Shelby. But I’m dead. I was supposed to be keeping her under control.”
“Yeah, well, we all three failed miserably at that,” Joaquin said. “Damn my nuts still hurt.”
Troy laughed. “Mine too.”
“Okay, let’s light a match and see what time it is. We need to sound the alarm pretty soon,” Russ said.
Troy lit a match and checked his watch. “Let’s go. She’s had half an hour. See any snakes down there?” he asked as they all peered down at the darkness at their feet.
“Nope, don’t see any,” Russ said, sliding down from the ledge.
Troy struck another match and held it as Joaquin put his pistol to the back side of the latch and shot it out. The door slowly opened and the fading light of the day spilled into the opening of the mine. They walked across the camp to the mess hut and waited while someone went to get Dante. He crossed the compound with his two thug bodyguards. He looked dispassionately at the blood running down Russ’s and Troy’s face. “Where is she?”
Troy stepped forward. “She’s in the river.”
“She got away from us. We chased her down and she jumped before we could stop her,” Joaquin said.
Russ bent over, threw up and then looked at Dante. “She said she’d rather take her chances in the river than go into the mine,” he groaned, gingerly touching the gash where his head had connected with the mine wall.
Dante stood looking at the three of them and shaking his head. “Well, at least she saved us the bullet,” he said before turning to the two bodyguards. “Disarm them and take them to the warehouse. If they escape, you’re dead.”
“She’s dead, but we can still get the money,” Joaquin said, while one of the bodyguards patted him down and took his handgun.
“Oh, we’ll get the money. I’m not worried about that. I’m just keeping you safe until I have insurance that you’re going to cooperate when we go into the next phase of our mission.”
Joaquin froze. “What do you mean ‘insurance’?”
Dante smiled and looked around the group of men. “I think it’s time for all of you to firmly understand what can happen to those you love if you make a mistake.”
Thirty-Five
First light and Shelby was still on her feet and still moving. She was in marathon mode now, her mind had retreated and her body repeated the same autopilot move over and over.
She’d left the drainage an hour ago and was skirting around the perimeter of the mountain aiming toward the transition onto the Mogollon Rim. She was hoping to get a cell signal as soon as she got out from behind the mountain peak.
She paused when she saw a thin column of smoke, lazily rising in the freezing morning air and wondered if she should divert toward it. Distance was hard to determine, but it was definitely closer than the rim. She watched it for several moments, considering her options. In spite of the parka, she was cold all the way through and exhausted. Though she hadn’t made a conscious decision, when she started walking again she’d subtly changed course toward the smoke.
Three hours later she was still walking toward the area where the smoke had been. She was so close she could smell it. She just couldn’t see it anymore. She looked at her watch, it was almost eleven. Whoever had started the fire was now probably gone.
She climbed up onto a boulder, sat in the sunlight and took the cell phone out. When she powered it up, there were two small thin lines indicating a signal. She held her breath and punched in Doc’s number. It rang, there were a couple of clinks and he answered. “Dad, it’s me. I got away, and I’m on the side of a lone peak next to the Mogollon Rim. The EFA camp is at an old mine next to a river running through a gorge at the base of this mountain.”
“Shelby, baby, are you okay?” Doc asked, his voice breaking, and she knew he was barely holding on.
“Yes, I don’t have a good signal or a lot of battery time left. Send in a chopper. Nick Malone is Dante. Eden is still heavily involved and has been all along. They are going to attack airliners with the missiles very soon. I’ll call back in twenty minutes. I love you, and Carson,” she said, rapidly pouring out the words before she signed off. She just prayed they were recording the conversation.
She sat on the boulder, checking her watch repeatedly and making herself wait the entire twenty minutes before she powered up the cell and dialed Doc’s number. It rang, there were the clicks and this time Morgan answered. “Shelby, it’s doubtful we can locate you via the cell phone. The towers are too far apart to triangulate. We think you’re on Cibecue Peak. Gabe and Carson are near there looking for you. We’re sending choppers for all of you, there’s a storm coming in. Call us back in one hour or if you see a chopper sooner.”
“Do not let Gabe and Carson walk into the EFA camp. It would be suicide. There are snipers all over the mountainside,” she screamed into the phone.
“Okay, okay. We know their location and will divert one of the choppers to them immediately.”
“Get the missile info out of Eden.”
“We can’t, she walked away from the halfway house last Friday.”
“Damn, she could be anywhere by now.”
“Shelby, stay put and be careful. Help is on the way.”
“I’m losing battery. I’ll call back in an hour,” she said before reluctantly ending the call.
Her body finally gave in to the exhaustion and she curled up on the sunlight warmed boulder and watched the dark clouds continue to mass in the north.
Three hours later, the first of the rain woke Shelby. “Oh shit, shit, shit,” she screamed, looking at her watch.
With shaking hands, she picked up the cell phone, turned it on and dialed Doc’s number. This time the call didn’t go through. She checked her resources, half a battery bar and two small signal lines. She powered it off, slid off the boulder and started walking toward the area where she’d seen the smoke.
Her entire body ached and she was severely dehydrated. She knew it was just a matter of time before the light drizzle would turn to snow. If a chopper didn’t show soon, she’d have to find shelter to survive another night in the wilderness.
Thirty-Six
Troy and Joaquin were being held in the storage room. One of Dante’s goons had come from Russ earlier and now they were worried about him as well as Shelby.
“At least there haven’t been any shots,” Joaquin said for the third time.
Troy looked at his watch. “It’s almost four o’clock. Russ has been gone for hours. This is so fucking ugly.”
Joaquin got up off the floor and began to pace the room again. “Do you think Shelby made it up the trail?”
“Hell yes, she made it.” Troy laughed. “She’s too damn mean not to.”
Joaquin paused, listening as rain drops began pelting the metal roof of the storage room. “Damn, I hope she did, because I think the storm just hit.”
Troy got up and walked the perimeter of the room stopping to inspect the heavy wooden door again. He started pounding on the door. “Hey I’ve got to take a leak, asshole.” There was no response, just the same eerie silence since the enforcer had left with Russ.
“Where is everyone?” Joaquin asked, sitting on a wooden crate.
Troy had had enough. He grabbed the door knob, viole
ntly pulling on it.
“What are you doing? They’ll shoot you right through the door,” Joaquin hissed, moving back.
Troy knew that Joaquin would follow him if he broke out. “They’re gone and I’m getting the fuck out of here,” Troy said, kicking the door and sending it flying open. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
Joaquin followed him into the outer room and they crept to the window overlooking the compound. “They’re all in the bunkhouse.” Joaquin looked toward the lights across the compound. “What’s your next brilliant idea?”
Troy grinned. “We’re going to climb out the back window, go get in the jeep and coast out of here.”
“You want to coast all the way across the compound and down that bullshit excuse for a road, in the rain, with no engine, are you fucking crazy?”
Troy slid the window open and perched on the sill. “Why do you think I always back the jeep up on that incline? Grab your backup gun from the wheel well when you get to the jeep, and hold on,” he said, before dropping to the ground.
Joaquin climbed out after him and together they crept along the back of the storage room, checked around the corner and then ran for the jeep. Joaquin grabbed one of the nine millimeters hidden in the wheel well and climbed into the jeep mere seconds after Troy.
Troy put the transmission in neutral, slipped the hand brake off and they both put one foot out their doors and pushed the jeep off the incline. The jeep slowly moved forward and began to gather momentum as Troy maneuvered it down the incline and through the late afternoon shadows. Neither of them dared to breathe until the lights of the bunkhouse were behind them.
Joaquin looked over his shoulder at the bunkhouse and whispered. “Damn, this just might work.”
Troy had to brake as they rounded the bend to the narrow ledge where a sheer drop of hundreds of feet waited for them. He made the turn, flipped on the lights and started the engine. He hugged the canyon wall and sped up as fast as the road and rain allowed. The final bend in the road was in view when the first shot whizzed between them and shattered the windshield.
