by Sean Black
He wrote out what he needed and handed it to Ty. Ty looked at the list and his eyes widened a little. ‘You sure about this?’ he asked.
‘That’s Plan B.’
‘And Plan A?’ Rafaela asked.
‘Once Ty’s got what we need and it’s all in place I want you to call your boss and tell him you have a lead. Give him this address. They’ll have to move her and that’ll give us a shot.’
Rafaela looked unconvinced. ‘And what if they decide to kill her, then move her? You might be better going with your second plan first. That way they won’t have time to think, just to react.’
Lock walked to the window and stared over the wall. The light was still on in the living room but there was no sign of anyone. Rafaela had a point and he wasn’t one for letting his ego get in the way. ‘None of this is without risk, but okay. Can you take Ty and gather the materials?’
She gave a curt nod. ‘Sure.’
As Ty followed her to the door, Lock called him back. ‘And we’re going to need a new vehicle as well.’
Ty raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, yeah? Ask the black guy to jack the car. Y’know, just because I grew up in Long Beach doesn’t mean that-’
Lock put up his hand. ‘Tyrone. How many cars have I seen you steal? Not how many cars have you actually stolen. Just how many have I seen you steal?’
‘“Steal” is kind of a judgemental term to apply under the circumstances.’
‘Okay — borrowed without asking first,’ said Lock.
Ty glanced at the ceiling as he did the math. ‘I dunno. Maybe a dozen?’
Lock nodded outside toward the villa. ‘Okay, so can we have the racial stereotyping discussion after we’ve taken care of business?’
‘Fine,’ said Ty. He turned to Rafaela. ‘See what I have to deal with here?’
As they headed out, Lock stayed at the window, torn, not sure if he wasn’t deluding himself, that maybe he shouldn’t just pick up the phone to the State Department. He packed that idea away. Who would they call? Rafaela’s boss? That was one sure way of getting the girl killed.
Ty sat out of direct sight in the back seat as Rafaela navigated the empty streets. Her eyes flicked to him in the rear-view mirror. ‘You want Mendez, don’t you?’
Ty shrugged. ‘Can’t always get what you want. Ryan’s right, the girl’s more important.’
They got to the gas station. A couple of kids were hanging around out front, kicking a soccer ball back and forth. Ty helped Rafaela fill the two gas containers and load them into the back of her vehicle. She went in to pay and he put the small tank of propane next to the gas.
Lock had already worked out that the guard he’d seen walking round the grounds stuck to a regular routine, leaving on the hour every hour and taking less than seven minutes, even with a stop to pee in the pool, to complete his patrol. So, barring someone coming out of the house, that left the grounds empty and unpatrolled for fifty-three minutes. The rest of the time, Lock figured, they were relying on someone inside watching the security monitors, but the cameras were mostly at the front of the property, leaving a couple of large blind areas at the side and rear. One of those areas covered the wood pile.
With Ty and Rafaela back safely with supplies and a new model, recently ‘borrowed’, white, Toyota RAV 4, with heavily tinted windows. Lock checked his watch. It showed a quarter past the hour. He set to work, climbing on top of the wall, then hauling up the two gas containers and the cylinder full of propane. He lowered them to the ground on the other side, then followed them.
Having been over the wall once already, this time he felt more sure of himself. He doused the wood pile with one container of petrol, set the second a few feet away, but closer to the house, and the propane cylinder closer still. He was counting on no one finding the initial fire until the other items had exploded. It was an imprecise science.
Satisfied, he used a rag soaked with gas to start the bonfire, then headed back to the wall. Ty’s hand reached down and pulled him back over. They had already abandoned the apartment so they retreated to their vehicle, retrieved from the back of the apartment block, and climbed in.
Now all they had to do was wait.
Forty-eight
Hector anxiously checked his watch. They were running late. They should have left the mansion five minutes ago. They would have to make up the lost time on the road.
At the front door, he pulled Julia to one side. ‘Remember what I told you, and you’ll be fine. You understand me?’
‘I understand,’ she said softly, eyes focused on the hallway’s red terracotta-tiled floor. Charlie was standing a few feet away, looking awkward. Hector assumed this was a new experience for him — having to be around one of the girls after he was finished with her.
Eager to get moving, Hector opened the front door and ushered them out. A red Escalade SUV was waiting to take them to the party. Hector opened the rear passenger door. Charlie walked past Julia and climbed in. Julia didn’t move. The look she gave Hector told him that, while she wouldn’t try to escape, there was no way she was sitting in the back with Charlie.
‘What’s the problem?’ asked Hector.
‘I don’t want to sit next to him,’ she said, shooting a glance at Charlie.
‘Fuck it,’ Charlie said, scooting across the seats and getting out again. ‘I’ll ride up front.’
He squeezed past her as he got in, his crotch deliberately brushing her backside, even though there was plenty of room. She shuddered and got into the back. Hector climbed in and started the engine. He put the Escalade into drive and released the parking brake.
A second later she caught sight of one of the guards from the back window. He was shouting and waving his arms. Hector stopped, put the Escalade in park and got out, leaving the door open.
The guard was still animated, waving his arms and pointing to the back of the house.
Julia’s Spanish was rusty but she picked out the word fuego. Fire. She couldn’t smell smoke but the breeze was blowing towards the house and they were at the front.
Hector snapped at the guard, telling him to deal with it. Then he slammed the door, put the Escalade into drive and gunned it, roaring down the driveway, the gates gliding open just in time for them to scrape through and out on to the road.
Behind them there was a loud bang. Louder than a gunshot. Louder than a car backfiring. She looked at Hector. If he had heard it, it didn’t seem to register. His eyes were fixed on the road and that was where they stayed.
In the front seat. Charlie was staring out of the window at a vague orange glow behind them.
‘What was that?’ he asked, unclipping his seatbelt so that he could turn around for a better view. ‘It sounded like an explosion.’
Hector shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Lock’s hand slammed down hard on the steering-wheel of the Toyota RAV 4. They had still been moving into position when the gates had opened and the red Escalade had come barrelling out on to the road. The guards couldn’t have anticipated the fire so it was down to bad luck, plain and simple. But it left in shreds his plan to grab the girl as the occupants fled the house.
Given the Escalade’s tinted windows and that they were parked behind it, they’d had no clear view through the windshield so no idea about who was inside it. For all Lock knew, it might be a decoy.
Glancing to his left, he saw a column of dense black smoke rising from behind the wall as an alarm screamed a warning. The Escalade was almost a full block clear of them now.
‘Call Rafaela — ask her to hang back here,’ he said to Ty, pulling out from the kerb and falling in behind the fleeing Escalade.
Ty pulled out a pre-paid throwaway cell phone and made the call. A few moments later, he tucked it back into his pocket. ‘She ain’t happy about staying back there but she said she’ll check the house when the fire crew arrives.’
Lock’s hands tightened on the steering-wheel. ‘All right, then.’
Up ahead, the Escalade wa
s stopped at a red light. Lock eased up and the Ranger dropped back. If it hadn’t been for the possibility that the girl was in the vehicle, and on the way to who knew where, he would have dropped out of the pursuit.
The lights flipped to green and the Escalade drove on. Lock followed at a respectful distance, keeping his eyes on the car but also looking out for other vehicles around and behind them. If the driver of the Escalade had spotted them, which was possible, there was every chance he or she would call in reinforcements.
Presumably sensing Lock’s tension, Ty straightened up in the passenger seat, his head on a swivel, his gun in his hand. They passed a side road. A car pulled out in front of them. Lock swerved around it, careful to keep his hand off the horn. He checked it out in the rear-view. The driver, a middle-aged woman, was the sole occupant. It had been bad driving, nothing more. When he looked up again, the Escalade was out of sight.
Ty pointed at a crossroads. ‘He took a left up there.’
Lock accelerated a little, trying not to get over-anxious, but aware that if they lost the Escalade they might also lose the girl. Ty’s cell phone rang.
Lock spotted the car again as Ty took a call from Rafaela.
‘You’re sure?’ he heard Ty ask. ‘Okay.’
He gave Rafaela their current location and killed the call. ‘Looks like the girl and Charlie Mendez were there but they’re not now.’
‘Did she see any other vehicles exit the property after this one?’
Ty shook his head. ‘Better than evens they’re both inside, so what you want to do, Ryan?’
Lock took a moment. The Escalade’s movements were deliberate. It wasn’t as if the driver was idly circling the town. He had a destination in mind where, it was safe to assume, there would be reinforcements. The Escalade could hold maybe seven individuals. Not great odds, but better than they would be at another narco-mansion where they would have the same problems of entry.
‘I think we roll the dice,’ Lock said, burying the gas pedal and going hard after the fleeing Escalade.
Forty-nine
Hector had spotted the Toyota RAV 4 dropping in behind them a few blocks from the house. When you lived your entire life with one eye open at all times, it became second nature to pick out a car that was following you.
The white splash of headlights in his rear-view prevented him seeing exactly who was inside, but it hardly mattered. No doubt it was connected to whoever had set the fire at the side of the house as they were leaving — to which he’d been alerted by one of the guards as he’d pulled out of the driveway.
As he drove he had made a phone call, bringing his boss up to speed on what was going on. Zapatero had been freaked that he hadn’t travelled with additional security but Hector had assured him that he was fine: he had precautions in place. But if they were being followed it left a question mark over the girl. What did his boss want him to do now?
The original plan had been to bring her out to the ranch for a special party before she was disposed of. But with all four men set to be there, delivering her might mean delivering trouble too. It wasn’t Hector’s job to offer opinions so he simply asked whether or not he should continue as ordered, or whether the plan should change. Zapatero had told him he would call him back.
At the end of the call, Charlie asked, ‘Everything okay?’
Hector smiled. ‘Sure. Everything’s fine.’
He glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the girl sitting awkwardly in the back. His cell phone rang.
‘Her attendance is no longer needed,’ Zapatero said, and hung up.
Over the years Hector had received many such calls. The language was always oblique. Not once had anyone ever told him to kill or maim someone. Instead they had told him to ‘deal with the situation’ or that a particular person was ‘no longer required’. The words were corporate, and unemotional. It left no doubt about what was expected and Hector had never been troubled by the task, but as the horrors had stacked up, his ability to block them out with alcohol or drugs had diminished.
He snuck another glance at Charlie and an idea took hold in his head. What was that phrase about two birds and one stone? Perhaps it was time Charlie Mendez was forced to confront the consequences of his actions and clean up his own mess for once.
Fifty
In the back seat, Julia knew she had to escape before they reached their destination or she was dead. Since her kidnapping, when anyone had spoken Spanish to or around her, she had played dumb and pretended not to understand what was being said. The truth was different. Though she was far from fluent, she could broadly follow a conversation. And she could certainly pick out enough words to work out that Hector had just discussed whether she should live or die.
Sitting alone in the back seat, she had already tried the door. It was centrally locked, with no way of overriding it from where she was. Her only chance, she figured, was to cause some kind of distraction, and find a way to make them pull over. But it couldn’t be obvious, like pretending she had to pee. It had to be something from left field that would throw them off balance. Her mind flashed back to her childhood and road trips with her parents.
Leaning slightly forward in her seat, so that neither Charlie nor Hector could see her, she jammed the index and middle fingers of her right hand into her mouth, forcing them down her throat until she began to gag.
Fifty-one
Startled by the sound of retching, Hector twisted in the driver’s seat, just in time to catch the vomit as it arced from back seat to front. It splashed on the side of his face. His foot tapped at the brake as he piloted the Escalade to the side of the road. Next to him, Charlie must have caught some too because he exclaimed, ‘Jesus Christ,’ as Julia retched again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.
Hector brought the Escalade to a complete stop and turned to assess the damage. The Escalade would have to be cleaned. He could do it when they got to the ranch.
Charlie swiped at the vomit on his jacket. ‘Jesus, that’s disgusting,’ he said, opening the passenger door before Hector could stop him.
‘Where are you going?’ Hector asked.
Charlie shot him a you’re-only-the-help look and kept going. ‘To get some air. It freakin’ reeks in here.’
‘Can I get some air too?’ Julia asked, eyes pleading.
‘No,’ said Hector, firmly. In the seconds of confusion he had forgotten about the vehicle that had been following them. Now, as he checked the mirrors, he couldn’t see it anywhere. Something told him it had kept going, driving past when he had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it hadn’t been following them after all. If it was someone who intended doing them harm surely they would have taken this opportunity.
‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and clambered out to retrieve Charlie. He slammed the door behind him and clicked the key fob to lock it. Let Julia suffer the stench.
A chill desert breeze caught him off guard. Charlie was standing a few feet at the back of the Escalade, hands cupped protectively around the red tip of a cigarette as the wind bit at the tobacco. Hector took a moment to study their surroundings. There was traffic, but not much. Maybe one car passing in either direction every forty seconds or so. He could see the city lights in the far distance. There was a metal crash barrier, and beyond that scrub desert. He glanced up into the night sky. A full moon hung high overhead.
He peered down the road for the RAV 4 or any other vehicle that might have stopped but there was nothing and no one. He walked to the back of the Escalade and repeated the procedure as a bus whizzed by on its way home from a maquiladora.
No one would stop. Hector knew that much. If someone broke down here it was their hard luck. It wasn’t only men such as him who were paranoid. It was the defining feeling on this side of the border. Good Samaritans had long since been snuffed out. A car at the side of the road would only be approached by someone looking for trouble.
This was his opportunity. The girl’s sickness had been a signal. He tu
rned to Charlie. ‘Finish your cigarette.’
Charlie took a long final drag and crushed the butt under his heel. He started back towards the front passenger seat but Hector blocked his path with a meaty arm. Beyond the crash barrier the ground sloped down for about seven feet before levelling off and extending into the distance.
‘Wait down there,’ Hector said, with a nod towards the open ground.
Charlie stared at him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘It’s not what I’m going to do, Senor Mendez. It’s what you are going to do.’
Fifty-two
Julia watched as Hector walked back towards the car. He stopped at the rear passenger door. She tried to read his expression but it was impossible. He had one of those faces.
He started to open the door and her heart began to thump a little harder. This would be her chance. He was letting her out so he could clean the inside of the vehicle. All she needed was his back to be turned for a few seconds and she would run. If she could get over the barrier and down the slope before he had a chance to draw his weapon she had a chance to get away. If Charlie was still outside the vehicle she would have to make sure she was a good ten feet from him when she made her break. That would be enough. She ran every morning — at least two miles. She wasn’t the fastest but she had enough pace to put some distance between them, and she had stamina, which she doubted either man possessed. Hector was strong but out of shape, and Charlie was only good for catching girls he’d drugged.
It was only when the door was open and she caught the look on Hector’s face as they made eye contact that she knew he wasn’t planning to clean the interior. He was letting her out so he could kill her. His face betrayed him: it spoke of shame and regret in equal measure.
