An Abduction (The Son of No One Trilogy Book 1)

by Rowley, M C

  “That´s the second bird,” said Jason. “An alibi for Pep. None better than getting kidnapped by some lunatic, corrupt mercenary foreigner, or whatever it is they have you down as.”

  “And the third…Pep´s the replacement,” I said.

  Jason nodded. “You got it. And guess who´s backing him all the way.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “This is all to get Pep into the president´s chair?”

  “And save Pep´s reputation too,” said Jason. “Voters love a hero.”

  “Hero?”

  “You´re dead meat, Scott. Governor Pep was all set to be saved by the feds, blasting his way out of captivity, killing a low down piece of shit - that´s you by the way - in the process. A hero! And just what the country needs after discovering the president´s highly illegal sanctioning of child trafficking to gain a cartel´s support. And no-one will ever know or suspect that Pep was also involved in that activity, to a high level, and will continue to be so, especially if he´s voted in as el presidente.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  I could not see a way through this. But then again, nothing had changed. I had just been informed was all. Pep was still valuable, and Esteban still had my wife. That had not changed. But now I understood the full value of our having the governor.

  “And you guys are the crusaders trying to bring down Esteban, right?” I asked.

  Jason kept smiling at me. “We had to find a way to get him, thats all. And that was you. And we ended getting you, and him.” He was pointing at Pep´s unconscious body.

  “So what´s your plan?” I asked.

  Jason breathed out, and looked at Kyle.

  She cleared her throat. “It would be easy if your wife wasn´t involved. We have enough to prove Esteban´s involvement in the kidnapping. That would be it. But your wife´s safety is important to us, believe it or not. She is an American citizen after all. And we have orders from very high up telling us she must be protected.”

  I felt relief flood through me, it was all I needed to hear.

  “Okay,” I said. “So what is the plan?”

  “We need to get a message to Esteban. He is in Lujano right now for a series of conventions. Not a coincidence of course, he needed to be close to Pep. We contact his people, and go from there. Simple as that.”

  Hernandez left the cabin and came back with tins of beans. Not the Mexican re-fried type, but to my disbelief, baked beans. He threw the tins to each of us, and I checked the tin. Canadian.

  He then walked around and opened our tin for us and handed a spoon.

  I wasn´t a fussy eater, but I was generally accustomed to eating well. Fine restaurants with clients, openings of fancy bars in Mexico City. Canapés, steak tartare. But these beans tasted like the best cut of meat roasted with love for six hours compared to those meals. I was ravenous. I destroyed the beans in minutes, and felt relieved when I saw the second tin come out of Hernandez´s bag and I fought back the humble lump in my throat.

  We all finished eating and threw the empty cans into a plastic bin in the cabin.

  “We´ll burn all of this when we leave,” said Jason. “But we´re safe here for now. Radios are set up so we can hear when feds or local cops come near.”

  He stood up. The others all shuffled. I could tell they weren´t regular or frequent companions. Not in the fullest proper sense. They hadn´t battled together much before. It was in the way they spoke to each other, but it was more in the way they shifted in and out of each other´s way. Kind of awkward, uncomfortable.

  “Let´s get some rest. Could be a long few days,” said Jason.

  It was about 11am and as everyone laid down on the sofas, and beds in the back rooms, I couldn´t sleep. Even Jason passed out and I found myself completely alone for the first time since I picked up Pep.

  The cabin was quiet apart from the gentle hum of the laptops.

  I rolled the ideas over in my mind. I had the bigger picture now - and it made sense for the most part - but there was a small space, or rather vacuum, in my mind. Something that had been denied to my knowledge. I couldn´t locate it exactly, but I felt it.

  I laid still with my eyes shut for twenty minutes. I waited until I was sure everyone was out for the count.

  I needed a plan. And I was sick of relying on Jason or Kyle, or dumb luck.

  Taking great care, I sat up on the bed and rose in the most gentle manner I could. I paused, and checked around the room.

  All asleep.

  The computers were on a table at the side of the cabin. I had to walk through Kyle, Bayer and Pep to get to them. I removed my shoes, and started the slow shuffle.

  It was agonizing. Twice, Kyle rolled over, and I thought I was busted. But no, the previous night´s exertions had taken it out of them. I went on. Pep was drugged. Bayer snored, which helped.

  I walked past them. And finally, made it to the laptop that I had looked at right before.

  With one last glance around the cabin, I lifted the lid and the screen burst into life. I could not believe my luck.

  The same CNN page was still open where I had left it. No password.

  I opened a second tab in the browser and punched in Esteban´s name to the search bar and looked at the Google results. The first two were the standard Wikipedia entries, one in English, the other in Spanish. Also, above them, his chubby smiling face. He was not a handsome man, but his small dark eyes were alert, like a fox´s. As if he saw more than a normal person. He was well over 60 years old. His face drooped with age, and tired wisdom.

  The third Google result was a Forbes profile of him, the fourth, his personal webpage, his business group was called Mesta. The fifth result was his foundation, Mesta Foundation. I pulled my seat closer, checked everyone was asleep and looked at the next part.

  I found the conference Jason had mentioned. The event was to be held at the Centro de Congresos, Lujano, which was on the exit road to Mexico City. I checked the times and details and made mental notes of them all. I then brought up our location and traced a route back to Lujano.

  Closing the laptop lid, I noticed a leather satchel amongst the cables and plugs. I reached for it and lifted it across the table to my lap as if it were dynamite. I paused. No-one had awoken. Like I was disarming a bomb, I opened the satchel and found Jason´s passport, and a bunch of biro pens, and his Moleskine black notebook. I opened it and found pages upon pages of scrawled notes. His handwriting was borderline indecipherable and seemed to be just scribbles of interviews. I supposed his journalist cover had been pretty damn deep.

  I closed it and went to put it back in the satchel, and was about to go back to bed when a piece of paper slipped out and fell to the floor.

  To my right, Bayer rolled over and I froze. Waiting until he took a deep breath and slumped his head down I bent and grabbed the piece of paper.

  It was a flight boarding card stub from Aeromexico returning to Lujano only a few days back. And I knew the origin location. I checked the dates and had to suppress my shock to a sharp outward breath. I looked around the room, all asleep.

  I put the boarding card stub back into the notebook and returned everything as it was.

  In ten-seconds I had learned two things.

  Firstly, Eleanor was still alive.

  Secondly, our son was not near her. Not right now at least.

  But I needed information.

  And there was only one man who could tell me.

  That man was Matias Esteban.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Esteban´s conference was the next day and getting there meant taking another gamble. But if I was right, Eleanor had a chance.

  But it was one big gamble.

  No, that was wrong. Not one, but four big gambles.

  First, my escape from Jason and his crew. Second, I needed my timing to be right. Third, I had to get to my old apartment in the city, and fourth, and most importantly of all, I needed my hunch to be right.

  I listened to the room. Everyone was out cold. I
counted their breathing. Bayer, Kyle and Pep in this room. Jason, Aronson and Hernandez at the back.

  Their exhaustion had fooled them into thinking I was so sold on their lies. So convinced that I would just stay put.

  I ran through my plan. I needed very little to begin with, just some information. But I also needed some sort of disguise. But that would have to wait until I got to my apartment.

  For now, I had the clothes I had on, and my battered shoes.

  I got up and every sound creaked a hundred times louder than normal, amplified by the pressure in the room. I remembered a documentary I´d seen that said people could feel it when someone entered a room because you were literally moving the air particles around, disturbing the atmosphere. Right now, I urged the air particles to stay the hell where they were.

  I planned my route out, right through the snake nests of cables leading up to the computer laden tables and to the main, and only, door.

  I started my hushed hustle toward the exit. I kept rigid and let my ankles shuffle forward, aching and slow. No-one stirred.

  I got to the door, took the handle, and as I opened it, a voice came from behind me.

  “Hey man, where you going?”

  It was Bayer, still half passed out, his head strained up at me from a lying position bleary eyes.

  “Taking a piss,” I said.

  His face slumped back into the rolled up blanket he was using as a pillow. It meant I had to run now or forget it. He might come round and wonder what had taken me so long. Or he might stay asleep. Either way, it was time for action, not waiting. I opened the door and walked out.

  Outside, the clouds were gathering again. Rain was not good for the type of journey I had ahead, but it didn´t matter. It could provide cover too.

  I looked out across Los Pozos. I could see sheets of rain in the hills across the way. Visible sheets of rain. At least 5 kilometers lay between me and my destination.

  I figured if any one of them woke, I would have 30 minutes tops to get to the valley floor, where the terrain offered no cover at all.

  The trek out of Pozos was easy. I had checked the map for the least rocky but unbuilt up area and navigated with ease. The whole time, Jason nor his crew appeared. I heard nothing. And the rain did not come. The sky instead sunk toward the earth, and the pressure grew and grew. The electricity in the air was tangible. It felt like a pile of tinder, ready to explode at the smallest spark. Only the rain would extinguish it, but the jealous heavens held it back.

  Los Pozos tumbled down hill beyond hill of uninhabitable land, and after twenty minutes, I found the valley the map had promised, and more pertinent to my plan, the train line running right through its middle point.

  The South Kansas Railway runs the entirety of Mexico´s long land, starting way up in the North and right down to the borders of Guatemala at the South.

  The cargo transited regular as clockwork and according to my brief google research, a 2 km long train full of cargo passed every hour. So if I arrived as one was taking off, the longest I would have to wait was 60 minutes. 60 minutes in which Jason or his crew could find me. Being in the open was the dangerous part, I was visible from the hills where Pozos lay.

  The valley was small, only ten kilometers between each sierra of hills. The ground was flat and although the land was farmland, I didn´t see a single cow or goat.

  I made my way down through the fields and the train line became invisible as the horizon flattened out. I walked, one target in mind now and it felt good to be moving. And the weight I had held for the past three days was lifting a little.

  After another fifteen minutes, I made it to the tracks. The part I had found had a small concrete bridge running over it allowing the only road to pass by. The surface was well used and covered in cracks and pot holes. I guessed the traffic was zero to nil. I hunkered under and looked back at the sky. I had cover. The valley was like a science experiment in a glass jar. Masses of electric build up, but contained in a vacuum. My gaze scanned down until it met the hills of Los Pozos above, 5 kilometers away.

  I started to relax. Just a little. I felt my shoulders release tension into my back muscles and I leaned back against the concrete of the bridge, and my eyes almost closed, until I saw something in the distance.

  Two headlights driving down the valley side.

  The lights belonged to Jason´s Tundra.

  The hills to our left were a good 10 kilometers in the distance. I had walked for an hour, and I walk fast. It was probably 4 kilometers away. If they were able to hit 50 km/h which I garnered would be the maximum on that terrain, I had about 6 minutes.

  My chest ballooned with adrenalin, I stepped onto the tracks and looked north. I needed that train to come now. The tracks dissolved into a blur. Nothing. I tried to remember if the tracks had been straight here, but I couldn´t recall. If they were, there was no train less than 5 kilometers away.

  I turned back toward the hills, my chest struggling to encase the pressure. The Tundra´s lights were turning and swishing as its driver navigated the rocky fields. But they were getting closer.

  I had 5 minutes and no more.

  I turned back to the tracks. I scanned and scanned until my eyes hurt. No train.

  My heart sunk, I looked the other way. There was nothing for miles. I had nowhere to go. The Tundra might not spot me, but that would only delay them so much. I was a sitting duck in the open.

  I scanned the tracks again. It was too late. I span and looked for cover besides the bridge. Nothing.

  I looked back at the truck´s lights. They were glowing closer. They kept moving. Getting closer and closer, and closer.

  And then, a mighty foghorn sounded from the direction of the tracks. I span and looked. There was still nothing.

  And then again. A train sounding its foghorn.

  But I couldn´t see it.

  I turned slightly, and there, not too far away, was the locomotive. I had calculated wrong, the angles had fooled me, the track did have a curve. A long one. I had been scanning the wrong part.

  I began running toward the train. I kept side swiping glances to my left and saw the Tundra´s lights leveling out as it reached the valley floor. It would get faster now.

  So I ran, I ran as hard as I could toward the oncoming train. Its shape was becoming clearer and clearer as it neared. It was fast too, and getting on was a problem I hadn´t contemplated yet. But I had a chance, and as long as I did, I would go for it.

  I ran and ran and my legs burned as lactic acid filled my shin splints and thighs.

  To my left the Tundra was more visible now. Probably a kilometer away. The train ahead, about the same.

  They were coming to me, train and truck from different angles like a closing V.

  I stopped running and put my hands to my knees and tried to recuperate the energy I needed to make the jump.

  I breathed out hard and in harder, all the time staring at my savior. A mighty rectangular figure coming at me down the track.

  I looked left. The Tundra, with two people standing in the back part, with guns.

  I looked back to the train. It sounded its claxon again, and this time, the ground shuddered with it.

  I looked left and the Tundra was turning to make a handbrake stop. The two figures in the back were Jason and Aronson. It span and dust plumed up as they jumped down from the back of the truck.

  The train, now only 100 meters away, was flashing its powerful lights at us. The driver must have been bamboozled by the scene.

  I jogged lightly toward it, and then realized I needed to jog the other way, so that I could match its momentum if I had a chance.

  Jason and Aronson were running at me now, guns aloft. They were shouting but I couldn´t hear.

  30 seconds, 25, 20.

  They started sprinting.

  10 seconds away. The claxon sounded again. I´d made it.

  I just needed to get on to it.

  Just as Aronson and Bayer got less then ten meters from me, th
e train passed us. In an instant, a giant wall separated us. I looked back down the track and the train must have been more than a hundred units long.

  The carriages were moving too quickly. I saw no chance to grab anything, let alone jump on to it. They were flush, sheer cargo container walls.

  I ran alongside it, now feeling the panic rise again. The colossus was unforgiving as it charged alongside me at tremendous speed.

  I wondered if Aronson and Bayer were trying to do the same. That would be a problem. But the least of my worries now.

  I stopped. I had one shot. I needed all the energy I had in reserve. I reckoned the train was moving at about 30 kms an hour. If I managed to get my speed up to half of that I could make a jump. I worked on catching my breath.

  The carriages were making a hell of a noise as they passed me, and suddenly it changed. I looked back at the train and the carriages were different now. Each was an empty platform with a ladder connected to each to allow boarding.

  I turned toward the train´s direction, and started running. I moved up my own gears and began pounding the dirt below my feet.

  I tried to remember all the sports classes I´d taken, and lifted my knees up as high as they would go, trying to elongate my paces. My legs burned white hot. But I ran through the pain, using it like fuel on my fire. I was running faster than I had ever run in my life. Legs high, swallowing deep lungfuls of air, feed your muscles with oxygen. All those pointless PE lessons at secondary school all of a sudden made a lot of sense.

  The entry ladders on each of the empty carriages passed me by and I began, in between my breaths, to count them.

  1, 2, 3 4 5 Ladder. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ladder. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ladder.

  As I picked up pace they got slower, 1, 2, 3, 4 ,5 6, 7 ladder.

  1, 2, 3 , 4 ,5, 6, 7, 8 ladder.

  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,8, 9 and ladder.

  I lunged for the railing and it hit my hand hard. But I felt purchase. My arm ripped against its socket and I swung violently into the side of the moving carriage. I pulled with all my strength and my feet left the ground and flew backward, I tried to pull my left arm around to the railing, and I felt the fingers of that hand grab the metal pole. I pulled my body weight upward and my feet touched floor. I was on.