Ashford shrugged. “They don’t have much to go on. Look,” he pointed at Cassandra, “I need you to pack a bag for her...and one for yourself too.”
Mahoney’s eyebrows came together.
Ashford waved off the religious man’s silent query. “I’ll fill you in on the details later. Right now I need to get you and your granddaughter somewhere else...somewhere safe.”
*******
6:39 p.m.
san fernando, mexico
Devlin fast walked across the room, “You son-of-a-bit—” and punched Randall.
His head rotating sideways, his ears hearing bone on bone, he felt her knuckles connect with the side of his face.
“Blake’s dead because of you.” She sent a fist into his gut.
He tightened his stomach muscles in time to lessen the blow.
“Now they’re targeting my family,” Devlin cocked her arm, “my little girl.”
Holding his chin, seeing the rage on her face, Randall lowered his hand, closed his eyes, and flexed his jaw muscles. Take the beating, Noah. It’s the least you can do for her.
She cussed at him a few more times.
After another second of bracing for the next strike, he half opened one eye, and saw her scuffling with his friend.
Devlin pushed Steele. “Let me go.”
Having dragged her away from Randall, the elder man held on to her while she struggled against his vice-like grip for another few seconds.
Lifting her hands, she stopped resisting. “I’m all right. I’m all right. Now...let...me...go.”
Steele looked at Randall.
Randall nodded.
Steele released her.
Devlin straightened her twisted clothing before running fingers through her hair. She gave Randall a hard look and walked away.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 19
GTO
7:47 p.m.
San fernando, mexico
In the last hour, Steele had worked his contacts in Mexico, setting up travel plans to find Devlin and Randall a safe route to Mexico’s border with the United States. The men had stepped out of the bunker, so Devlin could shower and use the facilities. After the trio had eaten a light meal and engaged in awkward conversation, the homeowner led his guests to a small barn behind the house.
Steele slid open double doors and ambled to the center of the space. “Give me a hand, Noah.”
The men rolled back a green heavyweight canvas tarp, revealing a red two-door 1965 Pontiac GTO convertible with chrome bumpers, chrome trim, and white-lettered black tires.
Randall let go of the tarp, “What the...” leaving his friend to lug the covering off the trunk by himself. “This,” he grabbed the passenger door and leaned into the open-topped vehicle, “is beautiful, Steely.” Steely was a nickname from Steele’s days at the CIA. The handle was a testament to the man’s unwavering commitment to a mission.
“Heads-up.” Steele flung his arm toward Randall.
The younger man snatched a set of keys out of the air and gave the muscle car another once-over. “This is the transportation you lined up for us?”
“It’s the only car I have.” Steele met Randall on the GTO’s starboard side and clamped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “So make damn sure you don’t get one scratch on her. You got it?”
Randall tendered a mischievous grin.
Steele rolled his eyes. “What am I saying?” He regarded his prized possession, as if he were saying goodbye to a deceased loved one. “After you’re done, I’ll be lucky if a few scratches are all she has on her.”
Randall opened the passenger door, slapped Steele on the back, “Don’t worry,” and strode to the driver’s side. “I’ll treat her like she was my wife.”
The older man squinted at him. “You’re divorced.”
Climbing behind the steering wheel, but stopping short of shutting the door, Randall eyed Steele, a wry grin on his face. “Fair point...my high school girlfriend then.” He closed the door and held up two overlapped fingers. “We were soul mates.”
Devlin sat in the passenger seat.
Chuckling, Steele shut her door, bent over, and placed crossed forearms on the car’s body. He dipped his head toward the back seat. “You’ll find some food and water and other niceties in that backpack. Oh,” he shoved a hand into a pocket on his shorts and hauled out a cell phone, “this works off the satellites.”
Devlin took the device and smiled at the generous man. “I can’t thank you enough for your help, Bill. I’ll see what I can do to get my agency to compensate you for,” she lifted hands and glimpsed the Pontiac’s interior, “all this.”
He waved a hand. “That’s not necessary. But you can do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
He jabbed an index finger at the driver. “Make sure he doesn’t destroy my car.”
Randall sniggered.
Steele stood erect and regarded the driver. “It was really good seeing you again, Noah. Maybe the next time you’re in the area, you can drop in for a real social call...without the Mexico’s Most Wanted moniker.” He shook Devlin’s hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Jessica.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
He tapped the doorframe and stepped backward. “Paco will be waiting for you at the coordinates on the map.”
Randall turned the ignition. The engine rumbled. He punched the accelerator, and the motor growled. “Do you trust this Paco?”
“Oh, hell no. I don’t trust anybody in this country.”
Randall arched his brows.
“But I do trust everyone’s love of money. Believe me. He’ll be there.” Steele shot glances at the car’s occupants. “I’d tell you to watch your backs, but,” his gaze settled on Devlin, “something tells me the bastards threatening your family need to be watching theirs. Go get them, Jessica.”
She set her jaw. I will. A half second later, her features softened, and she nodded at the man. “Thank you, Bill.”
Randall navigated the 389 cubic inch, four-speed Pontiac out of the barn, waving an arm above his head. “Take care, old friend.”
Mental images of her daughter and her father popped into Devlin’s brain, as she replayed Steele’s parting words: ...the bastards threatening your family... Her stomach flopped, and her chest rose. Take it easy, Jess. She exhaled through her nostrils. They’re with Curt. He’ll take care of them.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 20
Friends
9:09 p.m.
potomac, maryland
His father-in-law on his right—the man a half step behind and
