The Territory: A Novel

by Tricia Fields

  As he reached his car, two men in navy suits exited a dark gray Crown Victoria parked three cars away from his patrol car.

  The taller man stopped walking and pointed a gun directly at him. “I’m Detective Marcus Hammond with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my partner, Bill Smithers. You are under arrest. Set the case on the ground and raise both hands in the air.”

  The shorter of the two men wore a grim expression and continued toward Bloster with his badge held up for Bloster to inspect. Bloster saw the driver of the van standing in the parking lot, taking pictures.

  Bloster looked back at the agent.

  “Put the case on the ground and raise your hands in the air. Now!”

  His hands were numb, his body in shock. He slowly sat the case down beside him. What he had taken for luck was a setup by the feds. He noticed several National Guardsmen across the street watching his arrest and feared he might vomit.

  The shorter agent took the case and walked away while the taller man cuffed Bloster and turned him around toward the van. The agent read the list of crimes he was being charged with and mirandized him as he watched the driver enter the van with the prisoners and drive off. Bloster realized he had just prepared an actual transport for the feds. That was why it had looked legitimate. Because it was.

  * * *

  Josie was driving sixty miles per hour in the dark with her lights off on a road that was paved but pockmarked and washed out down to gravel in some areas. She was three miles from the courthouse in Artemis when Escobedo reached her on his cell phone and said he had just pulled out from the jail.

  “The four cars are probably five minutes from you. They have to have a lookout posted next to the jail, watching for the transport van,” she said.

  “I just hope it wasn’t someone in the sheriff’s department.”

  Josie blew air out in frustration. She thought he was wrong about Sheriff Martínez being involved.

  “I think we need the sheriff’s men out here. We can’t handle four cars,” Josie said.

  “Absolutely not. There’s too many unknowns with him. You’ve got DPS and Border Patrol on their way. Correct?”

  “I’m afraid they won’t make it in time. If you stay on River Road, you’re about thirty minutes from Highway 67. We need to get these cars stopped before we reach the highway. Are you familiar with the Arroyo Pass?”

  “I’ve taken it a few times,” he said.

  “You think your van could make it?”

  The Arroyo Pass was a dry gully that could flow like the Nile during heavy rains and flash flooding. It led from River Road in Artemis to Highway 67, and cut off about ten minutes of drive time. The dirt road was no problem for the locals, but it was rough without four-wheel drive, and the blowing dust would make it harder to navigate at night.

  “I don’t know. These vans are about worthless on anything but paved road.”

  “The arroyo has quite a bit of rock in the bottom of it,” Josie said. “I think you’d be okay. And it might throw the Mexicans off your trail.”

  “Might be worth the risk,” he said, his tone doubtful.

  “We’d be isolated if things turn bad. If you made it all the way to the highway before Medrano’s men caught up to you, we’d be home free,” Josie said.

  “I can make it. Get dispatch to set up a roadblock before we reach 67. Call Presidio PD and see if they can send officers. We need every car they can find. I’ve got only one deputy with me in the back with the prisoners. Any idea how many people are in the cars?” he asked.

  “I can’t tell. I’m about a half mile from them. When we drive through Artemis, I’ll catch up and scope them out under the streetlights in town.”

  She shut her cell phone and gave Dell the phone number to the police station.

  “Call Lou and have her tell Otto and Marta we need them at the Arroyo immediately.”

  Josie called Don Steele, the Presidio chief of police. He said he had one car already on 67. He promised two more units within ten minutes. Lou, over at dispatch, signaled Josie on her portable radio and said DPS and Border Patrol were en route to destination, but she couldn’t tell Josie how many cars or how soon.

  River Road passed through the center of Artemis, directly past the jail, and connected with the Arroyo two miles out. Escobedo called and said he had turned off, and the dust and wind were causing poor visibility. He was worried about staying on the road.

  Josie pulled behind the four vehicles at the lone red light in downtown Artemis. Under the streetlights, she discovered each of the cars appeared to carry at least four men.

  She told Escobedo, “We’re talking at least sixteen men, most likely armed, coming up against three officers,” she said.

  “I hope we didn’t make a mistake coming down this pass. I’ll check back in. I need to focus on the road. The wind is really picking up.” Escobedo, clearly unnerved, disconnected again.

  Dell unzipped the duffel bag on his lap. “Count me in as a fourth, Josie.”

  “You can’t use those guns. You’ll end up in jail over a fight that’s not yours. Just stay in the car and cover me if things go wrong.”

  Josie could feel Dell staring at her from the passenger seat. “The last standoff with the explosives? They lost that round. Those boys don’t intend to lose this one. You better use every resource you have.”

  Josie’s stomach was on fire. It would kill her if something happened to Dell. She never should have brought him with her.

  Once through Artemis, the four cars picked up speed dramatically until they reached Arroyo Pass, then slowed down abruptly, trying to decide which route the van had taken.

  The dust was blowing so heavily now that the van’s tracks had vanished. Arroyo Pass was visible only because of the green sign that designated it a road. The pass was approximately twenty feet wide, and it ranged from three feet to about five feet deep, making it very hard to drive up and out of the arroyo once a car was in it. The bottom was covered with small rocks and sand, which Josie hoped would be easier for the larger van to navigate than the cars the Mexicans were driving.

  Apparently familiar with the area, the two lead cars headed straight into the Arroyo and the two behind them veered off down Highway 67. Josie followed the cars down into the Arroyo, but within minutes, the other two cars had turned around and were behind her.

  Josie was starting to panic. The red lights were barely visible in front of her now, and the white headlights were directly behind her. It was a terrible position to be in, sandwiched between the four cars. She had miscalculated.

  “Hang on, Dell. None of them have four-wheel drive. I’m going to peel off and circle back behind them.”

  Josie heard Dell cock the gun he held. “Just give it plenty of gas or you’ll slide backwards.”

  Josie cut a sharp right into the desert just ahead of where the arroyo cut deep into the earth. She shut her headlights off so the other cars wouldn’t know her location. She knew the area well but inched forward, driving in complete darkness, turning her car to follow the brake lights of the others, barely visible in the blowing dust. The lights of the cars stopped, but she knew without four-wheel drive they could never make it up the embankment as she had. She wouldn’t be followed, and for a moment felt relieved. Then she heard the gunfire.

  “Get down!” she yelled to Dell.

  Dell leaned below the dashboard, his hands covering his head.

  Josie bent down as well and focused her attention on getting her tires to grab hold of something. She didn’t dare drive straight into the desert, where the sand was hilly and treacherous. Without lights, she could easily flip her jeep. The gunfire faded as the cars took off again, struggling to keep up with Escobedo’s van. They were obviously more interested in the prisoners than in her.

  “Call Lou and find out where Otto and Marta are.”

  Josie turned her headlights back on and slowly drove over the edge of the embankment and down into the arroyo, the jeep rocking from side t
o side as it bottomed out. The red taillights were about fifty feet in front of her, and she turned on her flashing lights and turned her headlights on bright to disorient the driver in front of her. “This time, they made the mistake,” she said.

  Dell used his own cell phone to call Lou, who said Otto and Marta were both driving their jeeps and were both just entering the pass behind them.

  “Let me talk to her.”

  Dell handed his phone to Josie.

  “Lou, I need you to get the National Guard contacted. Tell them we need backup ASAP. We’ve got big problems. I tried to reach Moss several times, and he isn’t answering. I can’t wait on him to be the contact. You call and get them here now.”

  Her cell phone rang. It was Escobedo. “I can see their lights. They can’t be more than half a mile from me.”

  Hearing the worry in his voice, she hesitated, and then explained they had already fired at her.

  “Whatever you do, don’t let them stop your van. You’ll be a dead man. Lou just called and said Otto and Marta are both right behind us. In four-wheel drive, they ought to be up with us in three or four minutes,” Josie said.

  “I figure I’ve got about two miles before I’m at the highway. Presidio called and said they have four cars set in a roadblock with DPS and Border Patrol ETA in five minutes. Their cars are on Highway 67 headed south. The wind is blowing so bad, though; I can’t even tell if I’m on the road or not anymore.”

  Josie heard gunshots, and Escobedo cried out. “They’re hitting the back of the van!”

  She tried to ignore his panic. “You have to stay in the pass no matter what! Keep pushing through. You’ll be able to tell if you’re veering off the pass. From where you are, there’s about a three-foot incline on either side until you reach the highway.”

  He began to reply, but the gunshots were so loud, they distorted his voice. All she could hear was static. The line went dead.

  Headlights appeared in her rearview mirror, and she called Otto. He confirmed he was behind her.

  “They’re shooting at Escobedo,” she said. “I’m going to try and get up top and catch up to the lead car. I’ll try and shoot out their tires. Be prepared if I do, though. They could come out shooting. Escobedo said he’s only about two miles out, then we’ve got help from Presidio PD and hopefully Border Patrol.”

  “Get up top. I’ll call Marta and tell her we’ve got the back two cars. Think you can take out both the lead and the second car?”

  “I’ll give it my best.”

  She put the jeep into low four-wheel drive and attempted the embankment to her right, having to take it at an angle instead of straight on, which would have been safer. Her front right tire spun and spit dirt. She stopped and backed up a few feet, taking the bank head-on. From behind her, Otto’s headlights lit up the sandy bank, and she gunned her engine. The front tires lost contact with the bank and almost flipped the jeep backwards. Josie gave it full gas, and the back tires propelled them forward. She and Dell instinctively leaned toward the dash, trying to push the jeep up out of the pass by sheer will. The tail of the jeep spun left, then caught on a rock and spun them up onto the desert floor. The ground wasn’t as sandy as the dunes, but it was strewn with rocks and boulders.

  “Are you okay with using a gun as we drive?” she asked Dell.

  “You bet,” he said. He held a semiautomatic Luger up to show her.

  Josie called Escobedo and was relieved to hear his voice. He said the lead car had slowed behind him, bogged down by the sand, but was still pushing forward.

  She explained the plan to Escobedo as she drove around a boulder that was now surrounded by swells of dirt moving like ocean waves.

  Escobedo yelled into the cell phone, “They’ve shot up the back of the van!”

  Josie listened to static and commotion in the background for over a minute. Finally Escobedo came back on the line. “An officer in the back of the van said one of the prisoners was hit but he’s alive. They don’t dare stop me. They’d never get a car around the van. The road’s not big enough. They’re waiting for the Highway. You call me back when the lead car is stopped. I’ll let you know as soon as we see the roadblock. I have to be close now.”

  Josie had turned her flashing lights off and was now making better time on top of the arroyo than the cars below her, which were bogged down in sand. She spotted the headlights of the lead car and second car as they bounced and swerved along the arroyo below her. Dell was a good shot, but the odds of him hitting the tires from a hundred feet in near brownout conditions were slim. Driving five miles per hour, Josie had about thirty feet of visibility.

  Dell climbed into the backseat to use the driver’s-side back window. The lead car was just in front of them to the left. It gave him a cleaner shot than sitting in the front passenger seat. Josie was worried about return gunfire and the possibility of the back two cars catching up with them.

  “Are you set up yet?” she called back to Dell.

  “I’m ready.”

  Her cell phone buzzed against her chest, and she answered. Otto said, “We got number three and four cars stopped! I got one tire on the number three, but it was enough to get them buried in the dirt. Marta left her jeep with her lights and siren on directly behind them. The National Guard knows her position. They’re just a couple minutes behind but will provide backup. Marta is with me. We’re coming on top of the arroyo, headed—” His voice cut out, and the call was dropped.

  Josie shut her phone and hollered back to Dell. “The third and fourth cars are dead. Two left. Otto is coming up top.” Her car was full of dirt and dust, and the wind howled through the window in the backseat, making conversation almost impossible.

  She tried to steady her driving as much as possible. She was now five feet behind the lead car and about the same distance above it. The car was a dark brown lowrider Mercury. The second car was within ten feet of the first. She could see Escobedo’s brake lights just ahead. Her fear was that once Dell started shooting and the Mexicans discovered her location, they would fire back and it would escalate into full-on war.

  Within a half-dozen shots, Dell had taken out the right rear tire and then shortly after hit the front window on the passenger side, blowing out the glass. Once the car stopped, the driver immediately turned his headlights off. The second car did the same.

  “Way to go, Dell!” Josie shouted.

  Her excitement was short lived as her right front tire got hung up on a large rock. Josie felt her jeep lurch forward and then stop. Gunshots were fired, and they felt bullets ring the back end of the jeep.

  “We have to get out of here,” Josie said. She shut the engine off, and she and Dell got out of the jeep and ran to the back for cover. It was pitch black except for the headlights of the car in the arroyo. Behind the jeep, Dell placed his duffel bag between them and they both huddled together, trying to block the sand from their faces.

  “They could be circling around our car right now.” Josie pointed into the darkness. “I don’t want to get out in that dust storm, but we can’t sit here.”

  Dell dug through his duffel bag and handed her a pair of goggles. He found another pair for himself. “I knew the way that wind was blowing earlier, this was coming. At least you’ll keep the dirt out of your eyes.”

  Josie pointed behind Dell. “We passed a large boulder before the jeep got hung up. It’s about fifteen feet back. Stay behind that boulder until backup gets here. I’ll take cover on the other side of the jeep, where I can see their car.”

  Dell reached over and squeezed Josie’s arm before she stood up. “You be careful out there.”

  Twenty feet away from the car, Josie crouched behind a large rock. From there, she could see both her police car and the car below in the arroyo. The second and third cars were both stopped now, unable to move between the car that Otto shot out and the car that Dell had disabled. Marta was parked in the pass. Josie and Otto were both parked on top. In order to keep from drawing fire, all the officers a
nd Dell were now taking cover in the desert until the Guard arrived to light up the area. All four of the Medrano cars were empty. The cartel members were either hunkered down in the desert as well, possibly waiting for reinforcements, or had already taken off on foot. The standoff had reached a critical impasse.

  FOURTEEN

  By choice, Dell lived a solitary life. He wanted no part of the wives and kids and friends that settled over middle-aged men like a shroud. He was mostly a silent man who preferred his own thoughts to those of the people around him. It wasn’t that he found women mysterious or unapproachable; he thought they were a pain in the ass. They worried about handbags and fabric colors. Of late, he had noticed the disease spreading to the male species as well. And then Josie Gray, a kindred spirit, came along and he had let his guard down. She was the daughter he had never wanted; she was his friend. He was terrified for her safety and where she might be at that moment.

  These thoughts cluttered up his mind and kept him from focusing on the pain in his knees as he crouched behind a boulder in the dark. The wind had grown fierce, and sand and debris pelted his face and arms, stinging like fire ants. His head was tucked down into his chest, and he felt guilty he wasn’t guarding the car or keeping an eye out for the men who might have been circling around him in the dark while he hunkered down, Josie left unprotected. But the exhaustion that had suddenly overtaken him was like nothing he had ever experienced. He lost track of time, not sure if it had been minutes or hours he had spent crouching in the dark, and eventually his thoughts whittled down to nothing more than the wind roaring through his brain and the endless whine of police sirens in the distance.

  The surprise of being pulled to his feet was soon replaced with an intense, stabbing pain in his knees and feet as blood began to flow again to his extremities. His arms were wrenched behind his back, his hands tied roughly with rope. His goggles were covered with a thick layer of dust, so he couldn’t see who had grabbed him, but he could hear at least two men speaking Spanish, hissing instructions at him that he couldn’t understand.