Marked in Mexico

by Kim McMahill

  “Hurry, let’s get out of here,” she called.

  Jessica spotted a well-stuffed daypack in the corner of the room, hidden under the table. She crawled under the table, retrieved the pack and hung it over her shoulder. If it didn’t contain anything they needed, at least they could use the pack to carry the other items they’d just taken. She grabbed some tortillas sitting on a plate on the table, but saw nothing else of use to them and headed out after Megan.

  Whirling around, Megan started to run, but before she had taken two strides, she was tripped. Her feet left the ground and she flew face first, hitting the ground with a thud. Her few possessions scattered in all directions.

  Jessica glanced down at the catalyst for Megan’s fall and struggled to suppress the bile oozing its way up her throat. Gilbert lay face down in the dirt, stained dark with blood. He had one bullet hole in his back and one in his head, turning his festive floral-print vacation shirt into a mass of crimson and his head into something only recognizable by its location on his body. She could only imagine Gilbert thought his secret had bought his freedom. He probably walked out the door, believing he had been released, and then was gunned down from behind. Despite the fact he had double-crossed them, Jessica’s heart still ached. His wife was now a very young widow and his adult children had lost their father.

  She stepped around the body and went to Megan’s side, grabbing her by the arm and helping her to her feet. Jessica began gathering strewn items as Megan dry heaved at the sight of Gilbert’s bloody body, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to hold back the cries of shock and terror.

  “We have to go. We don’t have much time.” Jessica gently took Megan’s arm and turned her away from the grisly sight.

  Megan took some of the items from Jessica’s overburdened arms and forced herself to motion. Each step became stronger and faster and after several minutes, Megan began to sprint for the shadows of the jungle. By the time they had reached the trees, Jack had caught up with them.

  “Come on. Follow me.” He raced past them, trying to pick a path through the thick foliage.

  They fled. Jessica found comfort when Jack looked back occasionally to make sure she and Megan were still behind him, but he kept running. She knew they were trying to put as much distance as possible between them and their captors before the third man returned. Remembering what had happened to Ashley, visualizing Gilbert’s dead body as they left the house, and knowing the third man was certain to return soon, gave her the adrenaline push to keep going.

  Jessica had taken up the rear so she could keep an eye on Megan, concerned she might fall apart again, but the young woman ran strong. Jessica struggled to keep pace with Megan’s much longer strides, but she didn’t lag behind. Despite the dense vegetation presenting constant obstacles in their path they continued to zigzag through the closely spaced trees, moving further from the place that had held them captive and taken two innocent lives. Jessica knew they were still a long way from safety and she would run until she could no more, but at least they were no longer being held like birds in a cage, waiting to be butchered or sold to the highest bidder.

  Chapter Ten

  Jessica, Jack and Megan ran for thirty minutes before they stopped to rest. They dropped to the ground, each gasping for breath.

  “What now?” Jessica asked as she eased her shoulders out of the small but heavy pack and let it fall to the ground.

  “We head north and east¾north in hopes of making it to the coast where we’re more likely to find fellow tourists, English speakers and phones. East since that’s the way back to where this all started. I don’t see much point in heading further into Mexico’s interior,” Jack said.

  “Sounds like a plan. So how are you holding up?” she asked Megan.

  “It’s amazing what we can make ourselves do when the alternative is death,” she replied with a slow resigned grin and shrug of the shoulders.

  Jessica was proud of her. Megan was only twenty-two, naïve and from what she assumed was a privileged home, yet the girl had grit. After everything they had been through, Megan never faltered a step and she’d just managed a weak smile. Jessica was starting to believe Megan would pull her own weight and maybe even surprise them a little.

  “Let’s take inventory and then we had better get moving again.” Jack popped the clip out of the pistol and counted the bullets. There were only six in the clip and he hadn’t located any more when he did the quick check of the house. He assumed the ammunition had been kept in the van in case they had to make another hasty retreat. He pulled the clip out of the rifle and found it only had two rounds left. The clip he’d grabbed off the kitchen table was empty, so he tossed it into the brush, set the rifle aside, and took a long drink from the water jug before passing it on to Jessica. She did the same and handed it to Megan.

  “What did you get from the house?” Jack reached for the pack.

  “I don’t know. I saw it hidden in a corner under the table and grabbed it. I thought if there wasn’t anything useful in it, we could at least use it to haul the blanket, water, these few tortillas and anything else we came up with.”

  “Good thinking.” He pulled the zipper back and peeked inside. The color drained from his otherwise dark complexion as he stared at its contents. “And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.”

  Jessica’s eyes went wide at the expression on Jack’s face. She scrambled around in order to look inside the pack. She gasped. Neatly piled inside were a dozen sandwich-size bags filled to bursting with what she assumed, despite her limited knowledge on the subject, must be cocaine.

  “I was hoping they’d decide it would be easier to try and nab some new bargaining chips and not come after us, but if they know we have this, they’ll hunt us down. Depending on the quality and where it’s headed, I imagine we’re holding enough cocaine to fund a small civil war or at least a pretty substantial uprising. No wonder they didn’t want money. They obviously don’t need it.”

  “Why would anyone leave this lying around? How would I have known this ratty bag was worth so much? What are we going to do?” Jessica ranted, near hysterics.

  Jack kept staring into the pack, shaking his head in disbelief. Megan now leaned over his shoulder and Jessica was plastered next to him and he was finding it difficult to breathe.

  “Just back up and give me some space,” he snapped, while shooting both women annoyed looks.

  Jessica scooted a few feet away and Megan joined her. They watched in awe as Jack carefully removed each of the bags and laid them on the blanket. Under the bags he found a roll of pesos and a cloth bundle that appeared to be a pillowcase. He carefully removed and unrolled the bundle to expose three grenades.

  For a moment Jack sat staring at the items and thinking. The odd assortment of weapons he had seen at the ruins added to the grenades made him more certain than ever that the three men who had abducted them were in a dangerous line of work, which required them to keep a certain amount of weaponry on hand. They were drug dealers, not mercenaries or terrorists, which was of some comfort. They clearly weren’t professional killers. He wondered if they even realized what they had. Only two of the grenades could do any damage and the third was just a smoke grenade.

  “Here, one for you, and one for you, and one for me.” Jack handed Jessica and Megan a grenade, keeping the smoke grenade for himself. “Be very careful with these. If you see no other way out, pull this pin and toss it at the bad guys and run like hell. You’ll have about ten seconds to find cover before the shrapnel begins to fly.”

  Jessica stared down at the grenade she held in her hand. She was afraid to move or even close her fingers around it. She looked at Megan and could see the same look of fear and confusion in her eyes.

  “Stay here. Give me an hour and if I’m not back, go that way as fast as you can.” He handed Jessica the wad of cash and the watch he had taken off one of the kidnappers and pointed in the direction he wanted them to head.”

  “Where a
re you going?”

  “I’m taking the drugs back. If I’m lucky, the van will still be gone and the two men will still be locked up. I’ll just replace the pack back where you found it and return here as quickly as I can. Hopefully they won’t even know it was missing and decide not to look for us.”

  “But what if the van is there and all three are free, armed and looking for us and this valuable pack?” Jessica stuttered, while her eyes darted between Jack and the grenade she held out in front of her.

  “I’ll just put it someplace where they’ll find it and try to get out without being caught. When they see the drugs are all accounted for, but the grenades aren’t, maybe they’ll decide it isn’t worth coming after us.”

  Jessica didn’t like the idea of splitting up, but the thought of packing around a small fortune in cocaine wasn’t a very appealing idea either. She glanced over at Megan and saw she was still holding the grenade in front of her with her eyes fixed on it.

  “Those won’t blow unless the pin is removed. Just put them in your pocket or somewhere safe and keep out of sight and stay alert. Don’t wait more than sixty minutes. That should be plenty of time for me to return the drugs and get back here. If I’m caught, they’ll come looking for you two, so don’t sit here and make it easy for them.” Jack stuffed the baggies back into the pack.

  Jessica placed the grenade in the pocket of her loose-fitting shorts. The feel of the item against her leg made her shiver despite it being so hot sweat drenched her sleeveless top, forming down-turned arcs under each armpit and a dark v-shape between her breasts.

  “If you need the rifle, make the shots count. You only have two bullets.” Jack pointed to the gun leaning against a nearby tree.

  Jessica watched as he shouldered the pack and disappeared into the trees. She wanted to stop him and convince him she should go since she’s the one who found the pack, but her feet refused to move. She heard what Jack said about the pin, but still pictured taking a step and being blown to bits.

  She glanced down at the watch she had put on her wrist. “It’s almost seven. If Jack’s not back by eight o’clock, we leave.”

  Megan walked up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They walked, linked together, to a tree, sat, ate a tortilla and drank some water. As the two women huddled in the darkness, Jessica closed her eyes and said a little prayer for Jack.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Jack reached the house, he saw the van had returned and a new black SUV was parked next to the building. He wasn’t at all surprised by the sight of the expensive vehicle. By what the pack contained, he knew this was no poor-boy operation.

  The men had never mentioned why their brother was in a Texas prison, but the pack gave Jack a pretty good idea. Though he’d hoped their captors were just a small disorganized band of drug dealers, the additional high-dollar vehicle made him nervous.

  Light glowed inside the small house, allowing him to see the men standing around the kitchen table. The group had now grown to five and their loud and angry voices cut through the night like a knife.

  Jack watched the activity until his breathing returned to normal after his nearly thirty-minute jungle run. Edging to within ten feet of the van, he scanned the area looking for any lookouts, but saw no one. He inched forward just as the door opened and two men came outside. Jack slipped back into the shadows and hunkered down. These men were dangerous. They were ruthless and nervous, so he’d have to be extra careful. Both Ashley and Gilbert were killed the callous, coward’s way¾Ashley brutalized and murdered by a group of much stronger individuals and Gilbert shot in the back after they’d probably promised him his freedom.

  Jack studied the men and the area closely, taking in every detail that had changed, trying to find the weak spots. He was certain the men on the porch were the same two men they had overtaken earlier in the evening and locked up, so he doubted they were in very good humor. He was a little surprised to see the man Jessica hit with the cast-iron pot up and walking. The image of her holding the pot over the unconscious man brought a brief small smile to his lips.

  The two men lit cigarettes and paced back and forth. They stopped and spoke to each other in Spanish, keeping their voices low. They glared at each other, took a few puffs and paced once again. The routine continued until a third man, who Jack had never seen before, came outside. The two men snuffed out their cigarettes, stiffened and followed the newcomer obediently back into the house. As soon as the door shut the level of noise once again grew to a near roar.

  For a moment, Jack was unable to move. What he had seen sucked the air from his lungs. The third man to come outside was dressed in a common law enforcement uniform, but the insignia patch on his shoulder read PJE, Policía Judicial del Estado. The PJE had been defunct for years and he knew the uniform was commonly used by Las Culebras to deceive law-abiding citizens.

  If he was correct, they were in even more trouble than he could have possibly imagined. He had to act quickly and get back to Megan and Jessica. He had told them to leave in sixty minutes if he hadn’t returned, but if they did, he was now confident the two women had little chance of survival with the PJE on their trail.

  There was no cover between Jack and the van, but he believed it best to return the pack to where he was sure the drugs would be found. He crouched low and dashed for the vehicle. He tried the driver’s side door and released a sigh of relief when he discovered it unlocked. He set the pack on the ground and eased the door open, quickly pressing his finger to the button in the doorframe to keep the interior lights from coming on. Without a sound, he retrieved the pack from the ground and laid it on the seat.

  As he began to shut the van’s old rusty door, it creaked. He froze¾one hand on the door handle and the other still holding the button in the doorframe. The voices in the house silenced. For a moment, it seemed as if his life was a movie and someone had just pushed the pause button. There was no movement and no sound, even the night insects halted their songs.

  Jack stood still, hoping the men would resume their argument when they heard no other sounds coming from outside. But the moment that had been briefly frozen in time, quickly vanished as the night erupted into chaos.

  Chairs skidded across the wooden floor and the shuffle of feet racing toward the door erased all hopes of a quiet getaway. Jack slammed the door and darted into the trees, running around the house. When he reached the opposite side, he made as much noise as he could, exaggerating with heavy footfalls and breaking branches with each stride.

  Gunfire from automatic rifles rained into the trees, sending debris showering down around him. Jack had no doubt the gunfire was from AK-47s, since that was the weapon of choice for Las Culebras. The bullets didn’t land anywhere near him since the men hadn’t pinned a visual on him and they were firing only in the direction of sounds. Jack encouraged them to expend a great deal of ammunition before he fell to the ground with a thud and silenced his movements. The shots ceased and shouting and running replaced the thunder.

  Jack scrambled to his feet. He moved with the cunning stealth of a jaguar. He hadn’t used these skills in years, but it all came back to him in a rush. He slipped through the jungle without a sound. When he arrived back at where he’d begun, he silently raced toward the place where he had left Jessica and Megan.

  The sounds of men running through the trees in the opposite direction verified he had been successful in throwing them off course, but the ploy had wasted a lot of time. Jack imagined them looking for a dead or wounded man and losing focus on their mission. By the time they realized they had been fooled, he would be long.

  Jack had no idea how long he had been gone since Jessica had the only watch, but hoped it hadn’t been more than sixty minutes. She seemed like the resourceful type and in most situations he figured she could take care of herself, and Megan was coming around, but the danger level had just skyrocketed with the addition of Las Culebras.

  Las Culebras were a group of elite Mexican commandos who had been
trained by U.S. forces in the United States to combat the drug cartels and to try and stem the tide of illegal trafficking in drugs and human cargo across the border into the United States. The plan had started out well, but once trained most of the commandos switched sides and worked for the cartels. Some were still being paid by the U.S. government, but most weren’t and it was impossible to tell who was who, which made them all the more dangerous. They controlled much of the border region through fear and intimidation. They were extremely violent, ruthless, well-trained and heavily armed.

  Jack was exhausted from all the running, but pressed on. Once the women left, it would be very difficult to find them in the jungle and they would be on their own. He had hoped that once the drugs were returned the men wouldn’t try to track them, but after what he had seen, he doubted they'd be so lucky.

  He was starting to piece together what was going on and it made his mind reel. Scenes from his past, which he’d hoped to never relive, came rushing back in full color and deafening sounds. If their kidnappers brought in Las Culebras, there was something huge at stake and he was getting the sinking suspicion Jessica held the answer to what that might be. There was more to her story and he intended to find out what just as soon as he got his hands on her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shots sounded in the far distance. Jessica and Megan leapt to their feet and turned to face the noise. Jessica glanced at the watch. It was seven-fifty. If they followed Jack’s instructions, they would leave in ten minutes.

  “If those shots are for Jack and somehow he’s eluded them, he may just now be leaving the house. I say we give him thirty minutes from this point. What do you think? Leave in ten like he told us or leave in thirty?”

  “I say let’s give him thirty, but let’s bundle up this stuff, hide and be ready to run if we’re wrong.”