Caught in the Act (35 page)

“What are you planning to do?” Beto asked.

“I’m going to take him out.”

Ronnie dragged Kari toward the basement door. “Please,” she said, but he ignored her. When Beto opened the door, he pushed her forward. If Maria hadn’t been there to catch her, she’d have fallen down the concrete stairs.

The door slammed shut, leaving them both in the dark.

Maria didn’t seem to have any trouble seeing her.
“Ay, amor,”
she said, tugging at the coarse rope at her feet and wrists. “Did they hurt you?”

Tears rushed into her eyes at the sound of Maria’s voice, the feel of her tender hands. “No. How about you?”

“I’m okay. A little dirty, a little hungry.”

“I’m so glad you’re alive!” As soon as Maria worked the bindings loose, Kari threw her arms around her friend, sobbing. Maria felt even more slender than usual, but just as strong. “How long have you been here?”

“Three days.”

“With no food?”

“Tortilla chips and oranges. Want some?”

Kari laughed through her tears, on the edge of delirium. Once her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she saw that they were in an underground room with a dirt floor. Four concrete walls, a mattress in the corner.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “This isn’t fit for an animal.”

“No,” Maria agreed. “We have to break out.”

“How?”

She took a sliver of plastic from her pocket. It looked like a needle cap for a syringe. “I was using this on the lock. When they are busy, I will try to open the door.”

Kari hugged her again. “Maria, you’re a genius.”

* * *

Adam was on the fence about calling his superior at CBP.

Pettigrew would order him to wait for backup. He would request a SWAT team and air support. The Mexican authorities would have to be notified. A tactical collaboration of this scale couldn’t be organized in minutes.

He was already skating on thin ice professionally. Going rogue might put an end to his career at the port. But Kari was in danger, and saving her was the only thing he cared about. Every second counted.

As soon as he crossed the border, Ian called with a location. “We’re heading east on the 1100 block of Salsipuedes.”

Adam entered it into his navigation system. He was only twenty minutes away.

“I’ve got company,” Ian added.

“Who?”

“Moreno. He’s right behind me.”

“Shit!”

“He must have been at Bob’s, watching to see how the drop went down. He says he ordered them to deliver Maria to Kari.”

“You talked to him?”

“He called on Kari’s cell. I picked up her purse in the parking lot.”

Adam clenched his hands around the steering wheel, his blood pressure skyrocketing. Ian was trapped between vehicles on a two-lane road. Moreno’s men might be heading to a remote area to execute him.

“Hang on,” Ian said. “It’s ringing again.”

“Put us on speaker.”

There was a moment of fumbling while Ian set up the three-way call. Then Adam heard Moreno’s voice. “Chuy will turn right on the next street, Calle Oscuro. He’s going to a house a few miles down the road.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Ian asked.

“Because we both want the same thing.”

“What’s that?”

“To take him down. If you work with me, it will be done quickly, before the women are harmed.”

“How?”

“Pull over and we can discuss our approach. I know a safe place.”

“Just a second,” Ian said, putting Moreno on hold so he could talk to Adam privately. “What do you think?”

Adam went with his gut. “I think we can trust him.”

“Jesus,” Ian said, letting out a shaky laugh. “I can’t believe you’re saying that about Carlos Moreno.”

“I can’t either. Do you disagree?”

“No, I’m with you. We need all the help we can get.”

“Stay in your car and wait,” he said, adding the new location to his navigation system. “I’ll talk to him first.”

Ian switched the phones back to speaker. “My friend Adam Cortez is going to join us. You might remember him.”

“The border cop?”

“I’m here,” Adam said. “I’m coming alone.”

“No backup?”

“Completely off the books.”

“Very well.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. And if you shoot my friend, I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

Moreno promised he would save his bullets for Pena and hung up. Adam’s navigation system didn’t recognize Calle Oscuro, so he stayed on the phone with Ian, listening to his description of the exact location. He didn’t want to end the call. As long as he could hear Ian’s voice, he knew his friend was all right.

Adam drove as fast as he dared on Salsipuedes, passing cars like they were standing still. He found the dirt road with a handmade sign and turned right. A moment later he came upon a gravel pullout beneath a copse of trees. Moreno’s expensive silver Mercedes was parked in front of Ian’s economy car.

Adam slowed to a stop next to Ian, his heart pounding. He’d pulled on some street clothes at the hospital, but he was still wearing his protective vest. The T-shirt underneath was damp with sweat.

He got out of his car and approached the driver’s side of the Mercedes, nodding at Ian to cover him.

Moreno waited for Adam with his window down, drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel. “We have to stop meeting like this, Officer Cortez.” Although his lips curved into a smile, it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His run-down appearance made a sharp contrast to the elegant façade he usually cultivated.

“What’s your plan?” Adam asked.

“He’s expecting me, so we can use my vehicle. You should crouch down in the back. I’ll go in first and cause a distraction.”

Adam thought it was a ballsy move, borderline suicidal.
“What’s to stop him from shooting you before you get inside?”

“Codigo,”
he said, using the Spanish word for code of honor. “There are rules to follow in a succession. If he wants to be the new boss, he has to challenge me openly. Cowards can’t take the reins.”

Adam studied Moreno’s face, evaluating his sincerity.

“I don’t expect you to believe me, but I have standards about killing innocents. Pena has crossed that line twice. I will not allow him to do it again.”

“Where are the women being held?”

“In the basement. There’s a door in the kitchen.”

“Describe the layout of the house.”

Moreno did, in simple terms. There were three rooms and two exits, a front door and a back door.

“What are we up against as far as weapons?”

He listed a number of pistols and semiautomatic handguns. “There are also enough explosives to blow the place sky-high.”

“Jesus,” Adam said.

“If I thought there was a better way, I would leave it to the police force. But time is of the essence and Pena has a taste for rape.”

Fury rose up within Adam, blackening the edges of his vision. He could cooperate with Moreno, but Adam would never forgive him for associating with a sick bastard like Chuy. Anyone who touched Kari deserved to be cut into bloody little pieces.

“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing at Ian to come along. While they got into the Mercedes, crouching behind the seats, Adam gave him a rundown of the situation.

They traveled the last stretch of Calle Oscuro with
their heads down, cloaked by tinted windows, under the cover of dusk.

Maria worked on the lock with intense concentration, her slender fingers clutching the tiny piece of plastic in a tight grip.

“Almost,” she whispered.

Kari was lying on her stomach at the top of the stairs, looking under the door. There was no one in the kitchen. She had no idea where the men were, but she hoped they couldn’t hear Maria picking the lock. “Still clear.”

“Got it!” With a dull click, the mechanism released. Maria shoved the needle cap back into her pocket and reached out to turn the knob, her hand trembling.

Kari grabbed her ankle, delaying her. “Wait. Someone’s coming.”

Maria sank to her belly beside Kari, peering underneath the door. Together they watched Chuy’s slip-on Adidas come into focus. He sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. Another man took the seat across from him.

“Moreno,” Maria mouthed, confirming Kari’s suspicions.

Although Chuy’s feet were wide apart, his slouch suggesting indolence, the air between the two men was bone-chilling. They were ready to kill each other. It wasn’t a good time to attempt an escape.

“You didn’t follow orders,” Moreno said.

Chuy made no excuses. “What’s done is done.”

“Let the women go. They won’t risk testifying.”

He tapped his foot, contemplating. “What do you offer for them?”

“A smooth transition.”

“You really want out?”

“It’s time,” Moreno said. “I don’t have the stomach for murder anymore.”

Kari realized that he was making Chuy an offer he couldn’t refuse. The top position in his drug empire, handed over without a fight.

“What about Armando?” Chuy asked.

“Forget him.”

“Give me his letter.”

“I don’t have it.”

Chuy seemed displeased by the answer. He leaned back in his chair, putting distance between them. “You haven’t promised anything I can’t get on my own. You say you’re done with killing but I know you’re armed. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think you’re reckless,” Moreno admitted.

Chuy didn’t respond.

“The receptionist you shot … she was very beautiful.”

His nervous foot went still. “So?”

“Were you sleeping with her?”

“What difference does it make?”

“She was pregnant.”

Chuy’s hand crept down toward his ankle. “Who told you that?”

“One of my sources.”

“The same one who confirmed Armando was in the hospital?”

Kari grabbed Maria’s shoulder, clutching it tightly. They both dreaded what was coming. She didn’t know whether to warn Moreno or get away from the door.

“Perhaps,” Moreno said.

Chuy’s next move was as quick as lightning. “Liar,” he growled, snatching a pistol from his ankle holster. Moreno leapt to his feet, knocking a chair over. There were two earsplitting blasts as their weapons fired simultaneously.

Chuy staggered to the side, letting out a strangled sound.

Moreno fell to the ground and stayed there.

Kari clapped a hand over her mouth, smothering her scream. She started to scramble down the steps but Maria held her still, shaking her head. Wide-eyed, she pressed a finger to her lips, gesturing for Kari to be quiet.

Chuy shifted his feet, struggling to stay upright. Crimson drops splashed on his shoes and peppered the dirty linoleum.

Another man entered the kitchen, reaching down to disarm Moreno. The former drug lord lay motionless. “We’ve got movement outside,” Ronnie said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of here.”

Chuy was bleeding, but he wasn’t down. “Where’s Beto?”

“Covering the front. Let’s go.”

The instant Ronnie walked out the back door, more gunfire erupted. Chuy muttered a string of curses and slammed the door shut, leaving Ronnie to his own devices. “Motherfucker!” he yelled at Moreno’s lifeless body, exiting the kitchen.

Kari stared at Maria, her heart hammering against her ribs. They couldn’t try to get away during a shootout. It was too dangerous. “What should we do?”

“Let’s wait.”

She nodded her agreement, relieved. Hand in hand, they started walking down the concrete staircase.

They’d gone only a few steps when the house exploded.

Ian had been braced for action from the moment Moreno pulled into the driveway and parked beside Chuy’s SUV.

He’d anticipated a gunfight in the front yard. When Moreno wasn’t shot on sight, Ian let out a slow breath, exchanging a surprised glance with Adam. They’d both expected the worst.

Although Chuy had allowed Moreno to come inside, Ian doubted the drug lord would walk out alive. This mission had kamikaze written all over it. Ian didn’t know why Moreno would make such a sacrifice and he didn’t care. His entire focus was on saving Maria. Everything else was peripheral.

“When it’s go time, head around to the back of the house,” Adam said in a low voice. “I’ll cover the front.”

Ian didn’t argue. The kitchen was in the back, along with the door to the basement where Maria and Kari were being held.

As soon as they heard the shots, Adam moved out of his hiding position, shoving open the car door and tumbling across the dirt lot. He crouched behind the hood, his weapon drawn.

Ian exited the vehicle through the same door, glad for the approaching nightfall as he circled the back bumper with his head down. Staying low, he ran across the front yard, heading toward the far corner of the house.

For a few seconds he was out in open space, completely vulnerable. Blood pounded in his ears and pebbles crunched under the soles of his boots. He tightened his grip on the Glock, praying he wouldn’t get hit.

As soon as he got clear, he raced along the side of the house, flattening his back against the stucco wall. Before turning the corner, he paused, listening for movement. Someone was trying to leave.

Ian burst into motion, flying around the corner. “Get down on the ground,” he shouted, ready to shoot.

The man coming out the back door reached into his waistband, pulling out a semiautomatic handgun.

Ian fired twice, hitting him in the shoulder and the center of the chest. The man fell against the open door, his handgun peppering the dirt with bullets. Judging by the way he went down and stayed down, he was dead.

Ian didn’t have time to reflect on his first kill, because Chuy Pena appeared in the doorway before Ian could squeeze off another shot. Ian ducked behind the corner of the house, narrowly avoiding Chuy’s return fire.

Jesus! That was close.

Although Ian was ready for him, Chuy didn’t advance. The shady bastard slammed the door and retreated inside, leaving his fallen comrade on the back step. Once again, Ian didn’t hesitate to move in closer. Rushing forward, he picked up the dead man’s handgun and shoved it in his waistband.