Sooner or Later (6 page)

He was alive, although he
wasn’t sure why. After repeated interrogations and torture, Luke Madden would have welcomed anything that would relieve the agony of the past two weeks. Even death.

He tried to find a place in his heart to forgive the men who abused his body and tormented his soul. With regret, he admitted that forgiveness had become more of a struggle than dealing with the crippling pain.

From the look in the soldiers’ eyes, Luke realized they found pleasure in his suffering. Pleasure in the power they held over him.

Once he figured out their game, he did his utmost to keep from crying out, refusing to give their demented souls the satisfaction they sought. Consequently they beat him harder, tortured him longer, in an effort to break his spirit and steal from
him what remained of his dignity. That, too, along with everything else, lay in shambles at his feet. He had no will to continue.

Even now, Luke didn’t understand the beatings. He was a missionary, a man of God. Despite evidence to the contrary, his captors believed his mission in Zarcero involved far more than preaching the gospel. They assumed he’d been a confidant of President Cartago. While it was true that he’d known and admired Zarcero s president, he’d never been an associate. From what Luke had gleaned, Cartago had managed to hide a large portion of the country’s treasury before his death. Why his captors assumed he would know anything about that, Luke could only guess.

“Luke?” Rosita’s voice came to him like a siren’s song, soft and lilting, tender and healing.

With effort he raised his head from the thin mattress and tried to open his eyes, but they were swollen shut. After the interrogation, when the pain burned in his gut and racked his soul, he found comfort in thinking about Rosita. How beautiful she was, how gentle and kind.

“Rosita?” He prayed as he’d never prayed before that she hadn’t been taken, and in the same breath, the same heartbeat, he thanked God for the one last opportunity to see her.

“I’m here. Don’t fear, it’s safe, no one knows.”

“A guard…someone might find you.”

“My uncle is a guard,” she whispered. “He arranged it so I could see you.”

The risk she took far outweighed any benefit. Luke
couldn’t bear thinking about what would happen if she were discovered. His beautiful Rosita had risked her life for him.

Luke heard the key that opened the cell door.

“Oh, Luke, what have they done to you?” Emotion rocked her voice. How he wished he could have spared her this.

Luke knew that his swollen eyes were the least of his injuries. His figured that he had several broken ribs, along with any number of internal injuries. His fingernails had long since been ripped off, and he suspected a muscle in his leg had been torn.

Whispering in Spanish, Rosita gently brushed the hair from his brow, her fingers trembling with tenderness and love. He felt her anguish as keenly as his own.

With her arm supporting his neck, she elevated his head and pressed a cup to his lips. Luke drank thirstily, gratefully.

When he’d finished, she bent forward and whispered close to his ear, “We will free you soon. Hector and the others have a plan, and—”

“No, Rosita, no.” He wouldn’t survive much longer, of this he was certain. Another beating like the one that afternoon would surely kill him. He didn’t understand even now why he was alive. The future held more pain; death would come as a welcome release, more of a friend than an enemy.

“Please, my love, be strong, hang on just a little longer,” she whispered frantically.

“No.” He refused to allow his friends to put their lives at risk in an effort to save him. “It’s too late for me.”

“No, you must be strong. Soon, very soon, you will be free.”

“Rosita, I can’t…forgive me, but no.” With every ounce of strength he possessed, he pleaded with her.

He must have lost consciousness because the next thing he knew she was gone. Perhaps it had been a hallucination; he prayed it was. It would be far better that she not see him like this. His heart swelled with love and regret for the life they might have once shared. It was too late for them, much too late.

With thoughts of Rosita lingering in his mind, Luke felt weighted down with a great sadness. He hadn’t the strength to continue or the will to go on. He prayed Rosita would forgive him. Rosita and his sister.

Thoughts of Letty crowded his head. They’d always been close, he and Letty. His death would devastate her, and for that he was truly sorry. He knew his twin as well as he knew his own heart. With that knowledge came the understanding that Letty wouldn’t want him to suffer any longer.

Letty stood under the shade
of a low-hung roof as the sun beat down upon the parched land like a giant hammer. Heat shimmered in the early afternoon, the sun so bright it nearly blinded her.

She was joined under the thatched roof by a young mother, who held an infant of about six months. The woman eyed Letty wearily and appeared to be waiting for one of the men arguing with Murphy on the other side of the road.

Letty focused her attention on Murphy and Ramirez while they haggled with the wiry, dark-skinned man and an older gentleman. Their raised, excited voices stirred the hot afternoon air. Letty could make out only an intermittent word, just enough to catch the gist of the disagreement, which had to do with money. Her Spanish was excellent, but the men all seemed to be talking at once, heatedly disagreeing with one another.

Murphy objected loudest. From what she could make out, the two men claimed that the danger had greatly increased and the price for guiding him and Letty across the Hojancha border into Zarcero had doubled.

Once, briefly, Ramirez glanced across the dirt road toward Letty, as if to let her know she was the real reason for their trouble. She stiffened her spine and glared right back, unwilling to let him intimidate her. Since she was the one financing this venture, he had no reason to complain.

From Murphy’s stance, Letty could see he wasn’t the least bit pleased with this turn of events. Not once did he look her way. She could have keeled over in a dead faint before he’d take the trouble to recognize her. If then.

Since they’d boarded the plane in Texas he’d gone out of his way to make it abundantly clear that he didn’t want her with him. It went without saying that he considered her presence on this trip nothing but a damn nuisance.

Letty removed her hat and wiped the perspiration from her brow with the back of her forearm. The backpack cut into her shoulder blades and she shifted the thick straps, hoping to relieve the pressure. Her khaki shirt was drenched with sweat, but she’d die before she’d complain about the heat or anything else.

The previous night and a good portion of the morning had been spent being tossed about like a sack of potatoes in the back of Ramirez’s jeep. She couldn’t be sure what Murphy had told the other man, but she strongly suspected he’d offered him a bonus if he
could find a way to be rid of her. The jeep’s journey across Hojancha was worse than any carnival ride she’d taken.

When they’d arrived in this village, Murphy had ordered her out of the jeep like a drill sergeant talking to a raw recruit. Her legs had felt weak, but she’d managed to climb down.

When the wiry man and his friend arrived, Murphy had insisted she wait for him across the dirt roadway. It seemed to Letty that he could have used her help with the negotiations. But in an effort to keep the peace, she’d done as he asked without arguing. She did note, however, that Murphy was forced to rely on Ramirez more than once to translate for him. She could have done just as well.

Irritated and frustrated, Letty paced the shaded area and waited for the men to resolve the money issue. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter what it cost. They had to get into Zarcero without being discovered.

A weak, pitiful cry cut into her thoughts. Letty turned to find the clean-scrubbed young mother attempting to comfort the infant in her arms by feeding her a bottle. A second frail sob racked the sick baby, and the woman’s eyes filled with tears that she struggled to hold back.

Letty had been so caught up in her own troubles that she hadn’t given the mother and child more than an indifferent glance.

“Is the baby ill?” Letty asked gently in Spanish.

The woman glanced up, her eyes riddled with worry and tears, but she didn’t respond.

Letty pressed the back of her hand against the infant’s forehead. The baby burned with fever.

The woman closed her arms more securely around her child and nodded.

Letty asked a number of questions and learned the other woman’s name was Anna and the baby’s Margherita.

Letty slipped the backpack off her shoulder and knelt on the dirt floor. Not knowing in what condition they’d find Luke, she’d brought along a variety of herb creams, tinctures, and ointments. Surely she could find something that would help reduce the baby’s fever.

“I’m not a doctor,” Letty explained as she drew out a small plastic bottle. She explained that the liquid had been made from Chinese honeysuckle, often called jin yin. “I know about herbs, and two small drops of this added to juice or sweetened water will help the baby’s fever.”

Anna’s eyes widened as if she weren’t sure she should trust Letty.

“You must reduce her fever,” Letty implored, realizing she could offer Anna no reassurances. This woman knew nothing of her.

Weighing the decision carefully, Anna handed Letty her baby’s bottle. Using an eye dropper, Letty added two tiny drops of the tincture to the water.

With a damp cloth, she moistened the infant’s face and chest. Sitting side by side, the two women cooled the baby. Temporarily comfortable, the infant sucked her bottle dry.

“Ramón is Margherita’s father,” she said, glaring at the wiry fellow standing next to Murphy.

“Your husband?”

Quickly Anna lowered her eyes. “No.” Her shoulders stiffened as she raised her head, her look strong and proud. “I came because I hoped Ramón would help me find a doctor for Margherita. When I told him I was pregnant, he said a baby was my responsibility, not his. I loved him. I gave my heart to a man with no soul.” Leaning slightly closer, Anna gently pressed her hand over Letty’s arm. “He is a man who makes many promises and delivers few. Learn from my mistake. Do not trust him.”

Across the road, Murphy looked all the more disgruntled. Ramirez’s face was red from arguing, and he shook his head repeatedly.

“I must get into Zarcero,” Letty whispered, confiding in Anna.

Her face and eyes revealed her dismay. “No, señorita, Zarcero is a dangerous place for you and your man.”

“My brother is there.”

Anna’s expressive face revealed her apprehension. “It isn’t possible. The soldiers won’t let you cross the border,” she insisted.

“I know. Ramón was supposed to help us.”

“Ramón?” Her dark eyes widened all the more, contrasting with the white peasant blouse and flowing skirt. “No,” she said with conviction, and shook her head. “Do not put your faith in him, señorita.”

“My brother is a good man,” Letty returned. “He needs my help.”

“A good person like you?” she asked, her hand gripping the tincture bottle.

Letty smiled. She wasn’t as good as Luke, not nearly as generous or forgiving. He’d always been there for her, and she refused to abandon him now.

“Like my brother,” she agreed meekly.

“I will help you,” Anna promised.

“But how?”

Anna glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Wait here and I will bring my uncle.”

“Your uncle?” In Zarcero, Letty had found, every citizen of the country seemed related in one way or another.

Anna smiled for the first time. “He is a man who knows many things.”

She slipped away. Discouraged, Letty sat down in the dirt. No more than a minute had passed when Murphy, in a display of anger, stalked across the roadway. Slapping his hat against his thigh, Ramirez stormed to the jeep and drove off.

Joining Letty in the shade, Murphy slumped down next to her and draped his wrists over his knees. “I don’t trust that son of a bitch. He’d sell his grandmother’s liver without giving the matter a second thought.”

“Ramón?” she asked casually.

He pinned her with his glare. “How’d you know his name?”

“How could I have missed it? You were arguing loud enough to alert the Canadian Mounties.”

Murphy ran his hand along the back of his neck. “Getting into Zarcero isn’t going to be any picnic.”

“I didn’t expect it would.”

“Ramirez suggests we wait a couple of days….”

“No,” she responded emphatically, “we don’t have that kind of time.”

“Listen, I don’t like this any better than you do. It’s a pain in the ass, but we don’t have a choice.”

“I might have found someone who can help,” she said.

If she hadn’t garnered his full attention earlier, Letty had it now.

“What do you mean?”

“The young woman who was here earlier told me about her uncle. Apparently he has connections.”

“An uncle? We’re supposed to trust some girl’s uncle?”

“I’d rather put my life in his hands than rely on your man. I’d like to remind you, I’m paying top dollar for your expertise. The next time we need someone, I suggest you check out their credentials.”

To her surprise, Murphy tossed back his head and laughed out loud. “You want me to check their credentials? Now I know why I let you come along. For comic relief.”

She ignored his humor, especially since it was at her expense.

Fifteen minutes later Anna returned with her uncle. The old man looked to be in his seventies. He was barely able to walk, his gait was slow and measured. A large straw hat shaded his face from the sun.

“I’m Carlos,” he whispered in a voice that sounded surprisingly young. “I understand you are on an important mission?”

“Yes,” Letty responded eagerly.

Murphy said nothing, but his eyes rounded with surprise when he realized she was fluent in Spanish.

“Come, my niece has been remiss in not offering you refreshments.”

Encouraged, Letty stood and brushed the dirt from her backside.

The older gentleman’s eyes bored into her. “Margherita is sleeping comfortably for the first time in two days.”

Murphy scowled and glanced at Letty, not understanding. Letty didn’t bother to enlighten him. If Murphy learned of her knowledge with herbs, he might put two and two together. It wouldn’t take much for him to figure out the cause of his memory lapse.

Once inside the old man’s dilapidated house, Carlos offered them canned juice. Before the old man could serve the refreshment, Murphy pulled him aside and started asking questions. Once again he ignored Letty as if she had no interest in the discussion.

The two men spoke in a low murmur. She noticed that Murphy did most of the talking. His body language told her that he found the terms to be more to his liking, and he nodded a couple of times.

Only once did he glance her way. He frowned before responding to Carlos’s inquiry.

Letty was tired of being left out of the conversation, particularly one that pertained to her and rescuing Luke. She was strongly tempted to speak her mind, but soon the two men appeared to come to some agreement.

Carlos nodded and left, leaving Letty and Murphy alone in the tiny house.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Carlos has a boat by the river. He’s agreed to smuggle us into Zarcero himself. He’s known and trusted, and even if he is stopped and questioned, the rebels aren’t likely to search the boat.” He hesitated and studied her as if seeing her with fresh eyes. “But if we are stopped, we need to be prepared. Do you know anything about guns?”

She swallowed uncomfortably. “Some.” Damn little if the truth be known, but she was afraid to admit it.

“Well, you’re about to get a crash course. If you’re going into Zarcero, then you’d better damn well know how to take care of yourself.”

“That’s why I have you,” she argued.

Apparently her answer didn’t please him because he reached behind him and produced a deadly-looking handgun and laid it across his palm. “Either you learn how to fire this or you stay here and wait for me.”

He walked out of the house, leaving her the option to follow him or sulk alone inside. Given no choice, she scurried after him. Murphy would like nothing better than to leave her behind.

Letty didn’t know how long they walked; it seemed like forever. In reality, they’d probably gone a mile. The Hojancha countryside, like that of Zarcero, was unsurpassingly beautiful and variable. The air, cooler now, was soft and sweet as they traipsed across the parched grass.

By the time Murphy stopped, her legs ached and her breath stung her lungs, but she managed to keep up with his murderous pace.

Tucking a white piece of paper in the low-lying arms of a Cenizero tree, Murphy stated matter-of-
factly, “We don’t leave for Zarcero until you can fire a bullet into this.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

One cold glance told her he wasn’t.

“This isn’t what I’m paying you for.” She hated guns and couldn’t imagine actually having to fire one, let alone kill another human being. She’d rather die herself.

Unfortunately Murphy gave her no option. It was either learn to handle the pistol or wait while he went into Zarcero for Luke.

“Give me the pistol,” she demanded, determined to learn how to use it, just to spite Murphy.