“Okay, on three, ready?” she said.
“Fine. Him first. And Val? The first thing you do is duck, got it?”
“Sure. Uno.” She held up a finger. “Dos. Tres.”
Duke shoved the big guy toward the others.
Val hit her knees then pitched forward. The guy fired the gun, three seconds too late.
The crack of the shot resounded off the buildings and echoed through the mountains, sounding a hundred times louder.
The three attackers darted off and to the left, further down the main street.
“Val?” Duke rushed to her, but she was already sitting, staring at the truck the three men loaded into.
The headlights were pointed out of town and in a matter of moments plumes of dust rose into the sky.
“I’m fine.” She pushed to her feet.
That was a shit show. He sheathed the knife back in his boot and flexed his hand. He’d feel that punch in his knuckles for a week, easy.
A keening wail and shouts came from the house on the corner.
Val darted off first, Duke close on her heels. She banged on the door twice before opening it.
In an instant Duke could picture what had happened.
The family was at dinner, evident by the set table. Someone had gotten up around the same time as their short-lived street fight, and when the gun went off—the bullet tore through the wall and the rest was on the floor.
A tall man lay on the ground, his family gathered around him. Val crouched at his shoulder, her hands already bloody.
“Duke, I need my kit,” she yelled over the noise.
“On it.”
Duke sprinted out into the night. Unlike before, people peered out their doors and through cracks in the shutters, but no one came to investigate. Was this what they were afraid of? A couple of street toughs with guns?
He burst through the kitchen door of Val’s family home. Her parents and grandparents were clustered together. They took a step back, eyes wide. Abuela was the first one to recover, but he couldn’t figure out the words to use to tell her it was fine. So he didn’t.
Duke darted into Val’s room. Her small med kit sat next to the door. He prayed it was everything she needed. With any luck, the bullet had exited the body, and all she had to do was patch him up. If it was still in the guy, things would be a lot more complicated.
He dug deep, putting on as much speed as he could. A few people had trickled out onto the street to see what was going on, but none of them went as far as the scene of the crime.
“Move. Move. Move!” Duke shouldered into the house.
Val had the man on the dining table, plates of food stacked in the chairs.
“I need gloves, gauze—everything,” she said without glancing at Duke.
He dug into her bag and grabbed the package of gloves. Val shoved her hands into them.
“The bullet almost went totally through. I can feel it. I think if I cut through the back of his shoulder, it’ll be easier on him, but you’re going to have to hold him down. Glove up.” Val barked orders at the people gathered around the table.
“I’m guessing we can’t take him to a hospital?” Duke asked.
“What hospital? Besides, these people can’t pay for it. They know me.”
Val took a small vile out of her bag.
Duke blew out a breath and helped reposition the patient. He wasn’t bleeding as bad as Duke had feared, and the wound was low enough it wouldn’t have nicked bone. It would be a bitch healing though.
From the time Val injected the localized anesthetic to the moment the bullet came out was less than a minute and a half. By the time she got the bleeding stopped, her patient had passed out. Val continued to work, all the while answering questions from the family edging closer. All in all, she spent an hour from the moment she got her hands on the man to stripping off her gloves and turning her patient over to his family.
“I think this is about all I can do for him tonight. He’s got a painkiller and antibiotic.” Val swiped her forearm over her brow. “All we can do right now is make him comfortable.”
“Has anyone said who those guys were?” Duke straightened and flexed his hand.
“No.” She glanced at the family. “They aren’t saying much, but I bet I know who will.”
She nodded at the wall. The man, the dishwasher?
“Let’s go pay him a visit.”
“Help me with him first?” Val nodded at her patient.
Together with the help of the family they got the man into his bedroom. Duke hung back while Val talked with the family, using what he liked to call her Doctor Voice. No, Val wasn’t a practicing doctor, but the work she did in the field was enough to make him believe in miracles.
By the time they cleaned up and exited the house, the street was empty, the neighbors gone home.
Without agreeing to their next action, they both turned toward the small side street and walked straight to the rear door. Someone had taken care to close it but it hung precariously in the entry. Val knocked and Duke hung back, carrying her case. These people knew her. If she got the chance, they might open up to her.
The window next to the door slid open and a bit of the darker shadows shifted. A man whispered a few words, and Val replied.
Duke stared around at broken bits of the screen door that was completely ripped off and what appeared to be some dishes and other kitchen items. If he had to guess, the trio entered through the back door, forcing their way in and proceeded to cause a little destruction. But why? A B&E like this would cause a lot of noise. People must have heard the commotion, and still no one stepped in or called the police.
Did La Playa even have cops?
“Come on, we need to go around the front. He’s going to talk to us.” Val grabbed Duke’s hand and held on.
He held onto her as tight as she gripped him. Her nerves telegraphed through the press of her nails and the way she pushed them to almost jogging.
“What did he say?” Duke asked.
“Just that he couldn’t talk out here.”
“You think it’s safe to go inside?”
“Yeah. He’s a harmless old man. His biggest vice is maybe he drinks a little too much during the holidays, and his greatest sin is he doesn’t always get the forks perfectly clean. I’ve known him since I was a little girl.”
“Okay.”
They were met at the front door by a man on the upper range of middle aged. He was a big framed man with a bit of a beer belly. The way his face creased and his soft voice supported Val’s assessment of the man.
Their host gestured at the small, neat living room. The furnishings were threadbare, a little sparse but well taken care of. The home was neat, save for a pile of swept up debris in the middle of the kitchen. Val sat while Duke strolled into the kitchen to eye the door from the inside.
Val and their host began talking, their voices hushed, even inside, as though someone might overhear them.
What was everyone scared of?
Three thugs could easily be frightened off, so it couldn’t just be those three men that inspired such fear in the residents of La Playa. Duke was beginning to guess at the bigger picture now that he could see the audacity of the attackers, but he wanted to hear it from the source rather than guess.
Duke stood back and watched Val and the victim speak. She reached out her hand, her voice soothing with an undercurrent of steel. The man leaned forward, speaking softer, as though it would disguise the heat in his tone. He was angry, just like anyone should be if they were the victim of a crime that could have been stopped. How far would the incident have gone had they not been out walking?
“What’s he saying?” Duke asked after listening to them for a while.
“That those thugs belong to a gang. They’re running a protection racket on the town, and one of the stipulations is that they can’t tell anyone about it or else the thugs will go after the people they tell.”
“So—us?” Duke wasn’t worried about
that. They’d painted targets on their backs the moment they stepped into the street.
“Yeah.” Val sat back and turned to face him. “It’s been going on for about three months. He said in the beginning they tried to say no, but they did so much damage to people’s homes, businesses and beat people up enough that the town is scared. We used to have a patrol, but the two men that were our police force left after their lives were threatened. Basically, everyone’s scared, and no one wants to decorate because they fear that will make them raise the protection price that people are already struggling to pay.”
“Shit.” Duke shook his head. “How many men? Does he know?”
Val leaned forward again, propping her elbows on her knees.
This wasn’t a new tactic. It happened on every continent, no matter the language or people. There were always those willing to scare a profit out of people. He knew without asking that there would be more than three. If he had to guess, six to twelve. More than that, and a town this size wasn’t likely to sustain their greed. And what about when they weren’t happy with money? Or bread? Because he had no doubt that was where the missing loaves went this afternoon. Everyone had to eat.
“He says he’s seen those three and two others, but he thinks there are more.” Val stared at him. “What do we do?”
“Just to make sure I understand, there is no police? No law enforcement they can go to?”
“Not out here.”
“You realize getting involved might get you or I killed?” Duke grimaced.
“I’m supposed to be okay with this?”
“No, but if we are going to proceed we need to accept that what happened tonight? That stray shot? That could have killed the man over there.” Duke gestured at the wall and the gunshot victim.
“So—I’m supposed to do nothing?”
“That’s not what I said.” Duke held up his hands. “Why don’t we head back to the bakery, get some air and check in with them? I’m not trying to tell you we should do nothing, but we do need to be ready to face the worst possible outcome if us doing something is in everyone’s best interest.”
The hard part about being the leader of their team was weighing all the options and picking the one that had the least risk to life.
Val pushed to her feet and directed her attention at the victim. Besides a puffy lip and a black eye, he didn’t appear to have suffered too badly. She bid the man goodbye, and they exited the house once more into the evening air.
She struck off without him, spine straight, hands clenched into fists at her side.
Duke sighed and lengthened his stride to catch up to her. He understood Val’s frustrations, how much this whole situation had to hurt her, but he couldn’t tell her they would save the day without consequences.
“It’s not fair,” she said without prompting.
“No, it’s not.” So much of what they saw in the field wasn’t fair, or right, or just. Which was why their team existed in the first place.
“Even if we got the authorities to come in, there’s no guarantee they’d do anything. Chances are, they’d take a bribe from these guys and turn a blind eye.” Val slowed her stride, her gaze on the ground instead of the sky. “No one is going to take care of this, except us.”
“What would you have us do then?”
“Could we at least try to find out what we’re up against?”
“Sure. How?”
“The truck went up to an off-road track. It was a four wheel drive, rough terrain vehicle. I bet they’re holed up somewhere in the mountains. If we could find them, figure out how many of them they are, what their resources are, we might have a better idea how to deal with this. If you could just help me track them, we could find them. I mean, you can track wind over rocks, for Christ’s sake.”
It wasn’t the worst idea. She wasn’t advocating to go in there, guns blazing and take the bad guys down. She wanted to see what they were up against. He could get behind a plan like that even though he didn’t think it was their place to handle the situation at all. Still, these were her people, and in her shoes, he’d stop at nothing to help them.
Time and time again he’d watched Val do everything she could for the people they helped. She often worked herself to exhaustion. Duke had taken to putting a guy on her just to make sure she slept and ate sometimes.
After all that, how could he not support her?
“Okay, but in the morning. I don’t want to run into unfamiliar terrain with no weapons and no idea of what we’re up against. If you think this is the best thing to do, we do it during the day.”
“What? Really?” Val stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. You aren’t going to fight me on this?”
“Val, you give one hundred percent every time, to people you don’t know. How can I expect you to give even a fraction less to your own people? I’ll follow your lead on this, but if I think you are in danger, I’ll do what’s best for us. Okay?”
“Thank you, Duke.” Val wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tight.
He hugged her back, dreading tomorrow.
They’d wanted a nice, quiet holiday, and he’d wanted to spend that time luxuriating in quality time with Val. Now they were going to risk their lives. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her.
Experience had taught him that the people he loved could disappear so fast. He didn’t want anything to happen to Val, and the only way to make sure that happened was to go along with this crazy plan of hers.
5.
THURSDAY. LA PLAYA de Belén, Colombia. 9 days until Christmas.
Val’s emotional state walking into the house was one part angry, one part hurt, one part shocked and one big part of her wanted to grab Duke and run off to ignore the real world. She’d never thought she’d hear Duke utter the words, I’ll follow your lead. He’d practically given up his always-the-leader mentality without the least bit of pushing. It had her whole view of him wobbling. In the field, he was a benevolent dictator to the team. They all loved him and trusted his judgment, but unless someone had facts to back up plans that ran counter to his, they always went with Duke’s way.
“Is everyone okay?” Mom rushed toward them the moment they stepped through the door.
“Yes,” Val replied. All that warm, fuzzy elation died in an instant.
“What happened?” Mom followed her into the kitchen where someone had covered their plates from dinner.
Field surgery often left her hungry after all that adrenaline burned off. Usually she carried some sort of high protein bar with her for just this occasion, but she hadn’t exactly anticipated patching up a bullet wound. She uncovered the plate, grabbed a fork and dug in.
There might not have been an incident if she hadn’t intervened. If she’d minded her own business, how might things have turned out differently? The dishwasher would no doubt be in worse shape, and who would they have gone after once they were done with him?
“Val? What happened?” Dad closed in from the other side.
Duke pointed down the hall, and she nodded. Given how fast he’d been there to back her up, she doubted he’d ever made that work call. Both grandparents sat at the dining table, the years weighing heavily on them in a way she wasn’t used to.
“I met some of your protection detail tonight,” she said between bites.
Mom and Dad glanced at each other, their faces lined with worry.
“One of them tried to shoot me, but the bullet went wide and hit the butcher’s nephew—what’s his name?” She tilted her head to the side.
Mom began muttering a prayer, her face going pale.
“It makes sense now. The bread. Everyone’s silence. No decorations. They’ve got the whole town scared, don’t they?” Val looked at each family member in turn.
Mom stared back, eyes wide, the fear so plain on her face Val couldn’t believe she’d missed it.
Dad seemed sadder than anything else.
Abuela wouldn’t look at her.
Abuelo had that hard, stony gaze pulled up, but his hands were clenched into fists.
Without asking, she knew he’d tried to do something, maybe in the very beginning, and it hadn’t gone well.
“What have you done?” Mom whispered.
“What have I done?” Val put her plate down. “I saw someone getting hurt, and I did something about it. Now I have to live with the fact that someone got shot because of me, and who knows what else will happen now? Why didn’t you tell us?”
It wouldn’t have stopped Val from acting, but maybe she’d have gone in with a plan. Something better than waving the proverbial red cape in front of the bull.
“They’re going to come after us.” Mom turned toward Dad. “What do we do?”
“Sh.” Dad wrapped his arm around Mom and held her against his side.
“Who? Who are these people? Where did they come from? Why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” Val threw her hands up. Now she couldn’t even eat.
“Come and sit.” Dad gestured at the family table.
Everyone gathered around it, taking seats, assembling with one generation on one side, one on the other, and Val at the head of the table.
“Three months ago, a truck full of men rolled into town just after mass. They blocked the doors to get out, and they had guns. A man named Esteban got out and told us then that we either paid for protection, or they were going to start taking—our choice.”
“They took the gold crosses and candle sticks from the alter.” Mom blinked back tears.
“At first, some people gave them what they wanted because they were scared. Some of us tried to push back, but they attacked Raul and Jose. Nearly killed them.”
Raul and Jose were like a town patrol. They did odd jobs, from keeping things safe to a random assortment of civil duties. They were good guys.
“It was me,” Abuela said.
“You?” Val frowned.
“People were getting hurt.” Abuela leaned forward, her wrinkles creasing into deeper lines of concern. “Good people, and no one was coming to help us. So I went door-to-door and told them we have to do what they asked—so more people didn’t get hurt. I thought someone would help us that it wouldn’t go on this long.”
Heart of Danger Page 4
