by Liliana Hart
Zero six forty-five hours.
Elena was almost spot-on with her calculations for finding the golf carts. She’d gutted it out to come in under the two hours. It was a much tougher run than any marathon or triathlon she’d ever completed. She felt the swelling erupting over her hiking boot. Soaked from the morning’s dew and her sweat, shivers of cold attacked her as cool wind blew over her skin. She rummaged through the supplies to find a blanket and patted herself off.
Elena hopped in the golf cart closest to the path and finally took a breather. It was short-lived as worry set in. Her worry gave way to fear and eventually thoughts of failure. There were no keys in the ignition. What could she have been thinking? Why would there be keys just sitting there?
Her first thought was to call Brady and ask him where the keys could be found. Then she realized the absurdity of even imagining he’d help her.
She looked east to see the jagged fingers of pink and orange rake through a dark onyx sky. Sunup was close. She was not. Elena circled the golf cart and began to frantically run her hands over and below the carriage of the vehicle. She’d seen enough movies to know that hiding keys was usually the best way of protecting them. Besides, what choice did she have?
She looked at the motor with a curious glower.
“Maybe I could hotwire it,” she said, but then laughed in despair—she had no clue how to do that.
She fell to her bruised knees and ran her hands below the rhino-coated bottom like she was caressing a newborn.
“Got it.” She waggled the keys above her head.
Elena sent a message to the cartel once she got into the roadway. She wanted to keep them calm until she got close to their location. She maneuvered onto the highway, Mexico 307, and set her focus on the seven-hour drive to Calakmul. The tiny town would give her a place to set up shop while still being far enough away from the cartel’s fortified base inside the commandeered Mayan temple.
Without issue, she figured to arrive around two. Afternoons in July would really stink, but not making it at all would stink worse. She plugged her cell into the golf cart’s direct battery recharger, thankful that she’d be able to communicate with the cartel when needed.
There were no cars on the highway, except that she had noticed a set of headlights when she first pulled onto the highway while it was still dark. There wasn’t much in the way of anything along 307. It was only a means of getting from abject poverty in the country to extreme wealth at the beachside resorts.
Her cell phone powered up and immediately the ringing mixed into winds that bustled across the open-topped vehicle. It was Brady. She let it go to voicemail and stuffed the phone beneath her thigh. There was already a small pool of moisture on the seat as the earliest of the morning sun was raging its vehemence against the earth. The phone continued to ring.
Zero seven twenty hours.
She shaded her eyes from the glare that bounced around the interior. In her haste, she’d also forgotten sunshades and a hat. She bit at her lip and thought maybe she should’ve given this entire scenario the consideration Brady suggested.
Where the hell are you Brady texted.
Going to get my niece
You are going to die. Stop where you are and wait for me
No
How will you get through the highway checkpoints? You left your passport in the room. I’m begging you to stop where you are. I will meet you.
“Dammit,” she said, beating the steering wheel with her palms.
Screams hitched in her chest as she wheeled the vehicle onto the highway’s shoulder and stopped. It continued to add up to an impossible situation. She had no clue how to avoid the checkpoints, much less where they were. She remembered when she lived on the peninsula that the corrupt federales would intensify the number and location of roadblocks as she drew closer to the cartel’s home base.
Her throat was sticky. She grabbed for a bottle of water in the console. It was empty. She’d also forgotten to carry water. She tossed the plastic container in the back of the golf cart and twisted to look for a jug.
“Surely Audrey thought to pack for hydration,” she hoped.
Her eyes blinked back the sweat from the encrusted lids that weighed heavily from the morning’s exertion. She sat up rigid and then crumpled behind the foam-padded seat. Was that the same vehicle she’d spotted earlier? She began to wonder why it hadn’t overtaken her since she’d started her trek. She kept purposefully below the speed limit to avoid police detection, so any legitimate motorist would’ve gained on her by that point. Her heart pounded at the thought of being followed.
She fumbled for her phone and hit redial.
“Brady?” She began.
“Elena, what are you doing? This is suicide.”
She peered into her rearview mirror. There was indeed a vehicle in the distance. It seemed to have been there since she had first taken off from the grove of trees. Now she was certain.
“Brady, I think they’re following me.” She owed him an explanation, but there wasn’t time.
“Elena. Do not let them stop you. Drive over them if you have to.” His voice ticked up in emphasis.
“They won’t stop me and neither will you. I’m going to do what is right. I don’t care if it costs me my life.”
“Listen to what you’re saying,” he pleaded. “Dying will do no one any good. If death is your goal, then save everyone the effort and drive that golf cart off a cliff. Otherwise, listen to me.”
“What if they’re following me?”
“Focus, Elena. You’re driving into the shark’s mouth. They won’t stop you. They’re just making sure you continue moving forward. Like corralling a lost calf. Please understand what I’m telling you. They’ll stay back and wait until you get to a checkpoint. Then the guards will quietly remove you and no one will ever know you existed.”
“Why?” Panic started to eat at her.
“It’s too messy trying to stop a moving car. What if you crashed or lost the flash drive? Just keep driving slow and they’ll stay back.”
“Drive? I’m parked on the shoulder.” Her eyes frantically scanned every direction with an anticipation of doom.
“No, don’t park,” he ordered. “You’ve got to get moving. Preferably away from the cartel headquarters.”
“What about Marguerite?” Her heart was pounding so fast the thump was almost painful in her chest.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Marguerite is not the issue right now.”
“The hell she isn’t,” Elena said.
“Woman, I love you, but I need you to understand this right now. Get back on the highway and drive. If they capture you, Marguerite is dead. Do you understand me?”
She started to reply, but then realized what he’d said. “You’re picking now of all times to tell me you love me?”
Brady knew his timing was wrong, but his feelings were right. If she was on a suicide mission, he needed to give her something to live for. He gathered his thoughts, willing her to stay strong, but before he could utter a word, he heard a crash and the whoosh of Elena’s breath.
Screams and angry voices filled the phone.
And the line went dead.
Chapter Eleven
“Declan, we’ve got problems,” Brady said into the satellite phone.
“We’re in the air. What’s the issue?”
Brady pointed directions for Archer, who steered the second golf cart like a ten-year-old at the bumper car park.
“Elena decided to go solo and bugged out before we realized she was gone. I had her on the phone, but it sounded like she was taken by force.”
“Shit,” Declan said. “Do you know where she went down?”
“No, but she was on her cell phone. We should be able to grab a triangulation on her last signal ping. At least we’ll know a mile marker.” Brady pulled up the contact information for Willa at HQ.
“We’ll be there around seventeen hundred hours,” Declan said. “We’ll chopper
to wherever you are. I’m calling all hands on deck for this one. Brady, you’re at the tip of this spear. Make sure you go deadly, but cover your tracks as long as possible. Once the cartel places that region on red alert, we won’t be able to take a piss without getting our dicks shot off.”
“Roger that. See you soon.” Brady clung to the suicide bar as Archer veered off the highway to avoid a truck full of livestock.
“You should have handcuffed her,” Audrey said.
Brady yelled over the wind. “Maybe under better circumstances. Can you rally Mossad resources in the area?”
“I’m afraid not. Most are locals sympathetic to the Israeli people’s plight. Getting the golf carts and arsenal was a task. I wouldn’t count on any of them to even know how to fire the weapons they provided.”
“Gotcha,” Brady said.
“Any idea how far along this road she was?” Archer asked.
“No clue.” The phone was still ringing for HQ, and he let out a sigh of relief when Willa answered. He’d lost track of the time back home.
“Willa?”
“Well, well. If it isn’t Lieutenant Hottie. I was expecting your call. Declan sent the order for an all-call alert. I’ve activated Darcy and Brant.”
Brady sighed and shook his head at the nickname. At least she didn’t call him that in front of his men. He hoped. Willa was unpredictable. But to correct her was futile. She was a perpetual ray of sunshine, which was a nice change of pace considering the seriousness of their jobs, and all she had to do was bat those baby blues and let her dimple flash, and everyone—men and women alike—would fall all over themselves to help her out. She had a gift.
“How did you get in contact with my brother so fast?” he asked.
“He and Darcy flew in a couple of days ago so he could handle a board meeting while Declan is out of country,” she said. “I saw him standing in the cafeteria waiting on food and I said, ‘Hey, Brant, your brother needs you.’ It really wasn’t that hard to get him on board. Apparently, he feels some kind of loyalty to you. Unlike my evil twin Martie, who has made it her life habit of sleeping with every man I’ve ever had an interest in.”
Brady rolled his eyes and couldn’t help but smile. “Focus,” he said. “Who else?”
“The Devlins checked in and confirmed the assignment. They’re chartering a flight out of Reagan as we speak.”
“Perfect,” he said. “The Devlins were with us when we dealt with the cartel the first time. They’re familiar with their habits and the area.”
“I’m still waiting on Cade to respond. He’s been tied up at the Dallas office, but I should hear from him at any time.”
“Great job, Willa.”
“Anything for you, sugar. You can pay me back by setting me up with that long, tall drink of water you came in with. I think his name is Mick.”
“He’s also married with three kids,” Brady said. “And I keep telling you, I’m not running a SEAL matchmaking service.”
“I don’t see why not,” she said, her sigh audible. “You’re missing out on a hell of a financial opportunity. Women would pay big bucks for that kind of access.”
His lips twitched. “I’ll bring it up at the next board meeting.”
“That’s all I ask. What else do you need from me?”
“I need a location on Elena’s cell. We were talking when it went dead. It sounded like it was hung up instead of the battery dying or destroyed. See if you can…”
“I’m on it. I’ll get you a last ping location and an active track of her phone if it’s still transmitting.”
“What are you? A mind reader?” Brady asked.
“I’m a millennial, Lieutenant Hottie. We rock technology.”
“Let me know as soon as you get anything,” he said.
“Will do. Anything else?” she asked.
“Yeah. Stop calling me Lieutenant Hottie.”
“Is Lieutenant Hot Buns better?”
He sighed, knowing he’d probably asked for that one. “No, definitely not.”
“Bummer. I liked the sound of it,” she said. “HQ over and out.” And then she disconnected.
Brady looked at Archer. “That Willa is something else.”
“Of course she is. She’s my niece.” Archer’s lips twitched. “Audrey and I are really proud of her for turning her life around. She was headed on a path of destruction—alcohol and drugs—and then she got pregnant. She and my daughter are only a couple years apart. Declan took a hell of a chance bringing her on when we asked him to, but she’s got a brilliant mind. We just needed to get her out of the environment she was in and show her she had other choices for her and her son.”
“She’s a hell of an asset to the team,” Brady said. “We’re all proud of her. Speaking of,” he said as his phone beeped. “We’ve got incoming.” And then his phone buzzed and he saw it was Willa.
“What’s up?” he said.
“I just sent Elena’s location to your phone. Did it come through?”
He lowered the device and quickly studied the map. “Got it. It looks like we’re about five miles out if we stay on this road.”
“It’s an estimate,” Willa said. “I grabbed a ping from her cell during the last call to you, but that ended once the call did. Fortunately, but stupidly, she has a run tracking app on her phone. I keep telling her there are safer ways to keep track of jogging because it’s on an open platform. That means she can share her runs real time or post runs, but even if she sets the app to private, the device continues tracking her through the phone. It’s information anyone with average technology skills could figure out.”
“Why does it keep tracking?”
“Just in case she finishes her run and decides to post it later,” she said. “Nothing is truly private. I told her, Brady, but you know how stubborn she can be.”
“Well, let’s be thankful for her stubbornness this time around. Where is she?”
“Actually, she’s moving at a steady pace. I overlaid her route onto a topical map based on her latitude and longitude coordinates. Best I can tell is she’s about a half mile off of the highway and heading uphill.”
“Is there a road or trail?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Appears to be on foot.”
“Thanks. Keep me posted.”
Archer slowed the cart. “Look,” he said, pointing. “The gravel on that shoulder has fresh tracks. Someone pulled over there not long ago.”
“Elena?”
“No,” Audrey answered. “Tires don’t match. It’s a car of some kind. Probably small. The impression isn’t deep, as if it were a truck or bigger car, and moisture from the morning’s dew is still settled around it. It’s very fresh.”
“Willa said we’re less than five miles from Elena and moving closer. She’s tracking her, and it looks like she’s on foot, moving up the mountain.”
Archer narrowed his eyes at Brady. “How does she know our location to compare distances?”
“I’ll tell you later,” he said. “But for now, I wouldn’t go anyplace you don’t want your niece to know about.”
“Ha! Told you so,” Audrey said from the rear seat.
“Willa and I are going to have a serious talk when we get home,” Archer said with a sigh.
“Hold on.” Brady grabbed Archer’s arm. “Look up there.”
Elena’s cart was pulled off to the side of the highway’s shoulder. A small gray sedan was parked beside it.
“Stop here. Let’s take a cover line in those trees and go on foot.” Brady pointed as he swung both feet out of the slowing golf cart. “Archer, make sure to bring your phone.”
“Why?” he asked while strapping his compact submachine gun across his torso.
“So Willa can direct us to Elena’s position. Why else?” Brady smiled.
Audrey hopped from the rear of the golf cart. She too was strapped with a similar rifle and a giant smirk. “See, I told you so.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Don’t get u
sed to saying that.”
“I don’t get to say it very often,” she said. “I’m going to milk it while I can.”
Brady activated the hands-free Bluetooth earpiece and connected with Willa.
“We’re on foot. Have both cars in sight but no people. Direct us to her.”
“Roger that,” Willa said. “She appears to be headed to the summit. From the topographical comparison, it looks like she’s about two thousand feet in elevation.”
“From where we are, guide us at a ninety-degree angle to intercept her.”
“10-4, Lieutenant Hottie.” Then she sighed audibly. “Blah, blah, blah. I know, I know. Stop calling you that.”
“Hold up, Brady,” Audrey said from her rear guard position. “Look between the two cars.”
Brady squatted into the brush for concealment as he squinted for a clear view. It was a body. And it didn’t look like he’d be getting up again.
“Damn, that wasn’t what I was expecting,” Brady said.
“Could be a trap. We’ll go on your orders. Do you want to move closer?” Archer asked.
Brady scanned the thick overgrowth and listened closely for sounds of feet trampling through the jungle or screams of struggle. It was quiet.
“Negative,” Brady said. “You can see where the bullet opened his head right up.”
“You think Elena’s armed?” Audrey asked, surprised.
“She can shoot as well as anyone,” Brady said. “Did you check the arsenal? Was there anything missing?”
Audrey shrugged. “No idea.”
“Then there are two possibilities. She’s either armed and was able to take one of them out, or she has someone else trying to help her.”
“Or a third scenario,” Audrey said. “His own men could’ve killed him and they’re setting us up for a trap.”
“That thought did cross my mind,” Archer said.
“Either way, there’s one less bad guy to deal with.”
Brady thought about what Declan had said about covering their tracks. He knew they had to hide the corpse, but it would also put them out in the open.
“Guys, split up into opposing fields of fire and cover me. I’ve got to drag that body into the woods. Word gets out too soon and we don’t stand a fighting chance.”
