“We’ll do that. Greg, out,” he says ending the call with a burst of static.
I walk back to Horace who is peering around the corner of the Humvee. Looking down the street, I see nothing much has changed. The three men are obviously having a discussion. We’ve had this standoff for a little bit and I am surprised words haven’t been exchanged as yet. At least it hasn’t been an exchange of steel greetings.
“Greg will be on his way with Echo Team shortly. We’ll need to stall this until he gets here,” I say.
I wait a several moments sizing up the situation more. “So, let’s see what we have here,” I finally say stepping from the cover of the vehicle.
With my M-4 cradled in my arms, I walk a few feet from the Humvee and stand in the middle of the road. I feel the heat rising from the sand-covered pavement. The clouds continue to billow above covering more of the sky. Sand has been piled up along the curbs on one side of the street. One of the men brings his gun off his shoulder, cradles it, and steps out in front of his group. His white, sleeveless T-shirt contrasts with his dark brown skin.
“You’re not welcome here, Gringo,” the man calls out. That pretty much settles the heritage question.
“We’re just looking for a family member. We look and then we’ll be out of here,” I respond.
“Ain’t nothin’ but one of those things in there,” he shouts.
“Not anymore,” I reply.
“Then you can leave but we’ll be taking your vehicles,” he yells back.
“Yeah, ya know, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I respond.
I hear him and the other two men laugh. “Then you won’t be leaving but we’ll still be taking the vehicles and everything else,” he replies still laughing.
I look to the sky and then back at him. “I suppose it’s as good a day to die as any other. I hope you feel the same way,” I say bringing an instant end to his laughter. “I strongly suggest you pull back.”
“You don’t scare me,” he growls loudly. “This is my turf.”
“It wasn’t my intention to scare you, just merely making a suggestion,” I say replying and hoping the fuck Greg is close. This has the potential of getting ugly really quick. Of course I’m not helping the situation but any sign of weakness might cause them to strike. By acting the tough guy like he is and doing it calmly is making him think twice about attacking us. It’s like we know something he doesn’t. I’m sure the M-240, multiple M-4’s and two sniper rifles pointed his direction helps.
“McCafferty, anything your way?” I ask.
“Nothing here, sir,” she answers.
“It’s about to escalate out here and we need the both of you out front,” I say.
“On our way,” she says.
“Jack, Greg here. We’re closing in on your position,” I hear over the radio.
I feel my tension ease a touch with his call which really couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Greg, park a distance away so you’re not heard and make your way on foot from the west. You’ll see the group once you get on the road. Advance and set up covering positions to their rear. Leave the civilians with the vehicles,” I say.
“What about Robert and Bri?” Greg asks. Again, that leaving them with strangers thing but this is different. There is a real chance of bullets filling the air around us.
“Leave them with the vehicles as well,” I answer.
“Copy that, Jack.” I glimpse Echo Team in the distance past the group. They advance up the opposite sides of the street and deploy. I feel a little better about our chances to walk away from this. Still, I’d rather not get into an exchange. There are just too many variables when steel starts filling the air; ricochets, the lucky shot, the rounds marked “To Whom It May Concern.” With my being out in the open and exposed, I’m sure there are quite a few weapons trained on me. Even though it’s warm and humid out, I’m still not all that interested in becoming ventilated.
“Rosa?” I hear a young female voice call from the group behind the men in front. “Roooooosa!”
All eyes turn toward the voice and the crowd steps to the side as a girl in her mid-teens steps out in front.
“Isabella?” I hear Gonzalez call out questioning.
Gonzalez streaks by me heading down the street holding her M-4 by her side. The young girl takes off running in our direction. This new situation has captured the attention of everyone on both sides. Time stand still as the two meet at the intersection. Gonzalez goes to her knees and the two meet in an embrace. I see Gonzalez look up at the opposing group.
“Miguel? Is that you?” Gonzalez calls out.
“Rosa?” The man calls out questioning.
“Shit, Miguel, what the fuck are you doing? Put your damned gun away,” Gonzalez says.
The man turns to the group and calls out something in what I assume to be Spanish. Guns are lowered. “Stand down but keep alert,” I say into the radio.
I walk to where Gonzalez has risen with her arm around the young girl. “Rosa, huh?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, and this is Isabella, my sister,” Gonzalez answers with a single tear marking her face.
Isabella looks to be about Bri’s age. The other man reaches our position still eyeing me with suspicion which I gladly return. After all, we came very close to having a firefight and the adrenaline has not entirely dissipated.
“Sir, this is Miguel, one of my brother’s friends,” Gonzalez says. My immediate thought is that Miguel is a gang member with Gonzalez having shared a very brief history of her family. She must have observed that written on my face. “Miguel is not part of the gangs that used to roam here. He actually tried to keep the streets safe. At least he used to,” she adds looking poignantly at Miguel.
We both tentatively reach our hands out to shake. “Jack,” I say as our hands maintain a firm grip. Yeah, there’s still a little bit of a pissing contest going on. “What do you say we at least stand our people down before something stupid happens?”
“I still don’t trust you but because Rosa is here with you, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Miguel says.
“Well, I’m not about to hand you the other half of a BFF necklace either,” I respond.
Miguel chuckles and turns to shout something to his group. I call and tell the others to truly stand down and for Greg to bring the vehicles up. Miguel sees Echo Team emerge into the streets behind his group and turns to look at me sharply. I merely shrug.
“Where’s Mama?” I hear Gonzalez ask Isabella.
“She’s back where we’re staying,” Isabella answers. I see Gonzalez sweep Isabella up in another hug.
Red Team gathers around Gonzalez and her sister offering condolences. I walk over to McCafferty and lead her away from the group.
“Take Red Team and see to Gonzalez’ father in whatever manner she wants,” I say.
“Will do, sir,” McCafferty replies.
“Let the rest of us know when you’re ready so we can all give him a decent send off,” I say looking up at the clouds billowing higher. Their bottoms have become dark and are about to vanquish the sun. We don’t have much longer before they turn ugly.
“And make it as quick as you can. I want to be back at the base before the storms hit,” I continue pointing at the storms gathering overhead. McCafferty nods and heads back to the team. Gonzalez tells Isabella to remain and they head into the house. I turn back to Miguel.
“Look, why don’t we throw all of this macho bullshit aside and chat some?” I say.
“I was just trying to protect my people, man. It hasn’t been easy for us here. There have been gangs, marauders, and those things around. Supplies are running low as well,” he replies.
“As was I. I totally get it. How many in your group?”
“We have forty-three in all,” Miguel answers.
“Look, it’ll be cramped but you and your group are welcome to join us,” I say and describe our layout, our plan to head down to Lubbock in the morning, head to Albuquerque to possibly pick up another group, and head home.
“I’ll talk it over with the others,” he responds when I finish and he heads back to the parked cars.
The wind picks up again whipping against our clothing as we lay Gonzalez’ father to rest in the back yard.
