“Don’t worry,” he said, barely able to speak, his mouth gone dry. “My father will deal with these dogs. He will deal with them swiftly.”
She looked at him, then over at the window, then back toward the small wooden table and chairs, where two men sat, drinking bottles of Coca-Cola. A third man came into the room, carrying several olive-drab backpacks with patches depicting a blazing sword. He dropped the backpacks to the floor and said, “Everyone wears a radio now. Captain’s orders.”
The front door opened, and three more men shuffled into the room. Miguel’s eyes widened on one of Corrales’s stooges, Raul, who’d also managed to get himself caught. He’d already been tied and gagged, and Salou turned to them and asked, “He is your employee?”
“Yes,” answered Miguel. “My bodyguard. He did a very good job, didn’t he …”
Salou and the others broke into laughter, and then, as Raul was shoved into the living room, Salou’s expression grew serious. “All we want is our money.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who are you?”
Salou glanced back at the others, as though looking for some approval. He crinkled his thin nose, as though he didn’t like the stench coming from Raul, then said, “We are soldiers of justice. And we want you and your lovely companion to understand that. We want you to know that we are men of our word. And we will show you.”
Two men shoved Raul onto the floor, facedown, between Miguel and Sonia. One man sat on top of Raul, another pinned his legs to the floor, while a third grabbed Raul’s head by the hair.
Miguel craned his neck as one of the men from the table disappeared into the kitchen, only to return with a long hatchet.
“No, wait a second, we don’t have to do this,” said Miguel. “My father’s got money. You want money? We’ll give it to you. There’s no need for any of this!”
Salou accepted the hatchet and tested the edge with his thumb.
“We believe you,” said Sonia. “We believe you’ll kill us. You don’t have to show us. We know.”
“This isn’t just for you,” said Salou. “It’s for all the men who’ve deceived us and used us.” He glanced over his shoulder at another of his men, who’d drawn a small HD video camera from one of the backpacks, its LED recording light flashing steadily.
Raul began screaming against his gag and writhing left and right to free himself. But it was no good. The three men held him to the floor as Salou came around them and began taking practice swings with the hatchet.
“Don’t look,” Sonia said. “Just don’t look.”
Miguel closed his eyes, but then he couldn’t bear that any longer, and the moment he opened them, Salou brought down the ax in one great arc.
Aw, fuck, they killed him,” said Torres, lowering his binoculars.
Moore grabbed the binoculars and watched through the window as the hatchet man, who appeared to be the leader and oldest guy, reached down and lifted up something. That’s when Moore realized what it was, and he recoiled.
A fellow agent was a hatchet stroke away from death, and he and these two guys were all that stood in the way. The weight of that responsibility felt suffocating and familiar, and he didn’t want to believe that history was repeating itself, but it was, and it would again, because the universe had a very dark sense of humor, and he always bore the brunt.
He closed his eyes and listened to the disembodied voices in his head:
“Zodiac’s on the way! Thirty seconds. Getting two right away. Mako One, we need you up top, now!”
“On my way. Mako Two, let’s roll!”
“Negative, negative. Still can’t get to Six.”
“Mako One, this is Raptor. I am taking fire. Can’t hold this bird for much longer. Get your people out of the water and off the platform NOW.”
Another voice now, female, soft, calm: “But you understand that what happened cannot be changed, no matter how many times you remember it? You understand that your memory will not change the outcome. You can’t reimagine what happened.”
“I know.”
“But this is what’s happening. You’re playing it over and over again because deep down you still believe you can change something. But you can’t.”
“No one gets left behind.”
“Do you know who’s been left behind? You. The world’s passing you by because you can’t come to terms with this. So you’re living in Purgatory, and you think that you’re not allowed to be happy because of what happened.”
“How can I be happy? How can I enjoy this life? You’re the shrink. You have all the answers. Tell me how I’m supposed to be fucking happy after what I did! After what I fucking did!”
Moore opened his eyes as Torres tugged the binoculars out of his hands and once more stared down through the window. “I see some military backpacks inside. This is much worse than I thought.”
After a deep breath, Moore gritted his teeth. “We’re getting that kid and his girlfriend out of there. We’re not going to lose them.”
“They got seven guys so far. Just saw two more leave. Who knows how many back at San Cristobal.”
Moore considered that. “I saw them grab Corrales. He might be already dead, since they didn’t bring him here.”
“Maybe he got away. He’s a slippery little fucker.”
Moore rose and walked away from Torres. He called Towers, told him to keep eyes in the sky on the town for Corrales and Pablo. Then he told Towers about the execution and the military backpacks.
“Well, there you have it. Avenging Vultures double-crossing the Juarez Cartel, and we’re caught in the middle.”
“Listen, I need a lot from you, and I need it fast,” said Moore.
“Talk to me.”
“Looks like they’re going to start communicating by radio. I need a tap in and a translated feed back to me.”
“Not easy.”
“No shit.”
“What else?”
“Can we tap Rojas’s communications?”
“Deep-cover team says they’ve been trying to do that for months, but he’s got electronic countermeasures and hackers who do nothing but sweep for leaks, so our guys have had no luck.”
“What about Corrales’s phones?”
“If we picked up anything good from him, I would’ve come with that a long time ago. Truth is we’ve intercepted his calls from the start, but he’s very good about who he calls and what he says …He knows we’re listening.”
“Well, see if you can confirm now if he’s still alive. And Pablo as well.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Moore said and grunted. “A SEAL team would be nice.”
“I’ll give them a call.”
Moore thumbed off the phone and returned to Torres’s side. “What’s happening now?”
“It was gross, dude. They wiped blood all over the girl’s face.”
“But they didn’t hurt her.”
“Not yet.”
“How many we got?”
“Six or seven. Looks like four guys posted outside. They got a fifth guy sitting in the van down the street. Not sure how many else inside.”
“All right, Luis. If we’re going to make this happen, I need you to take on the toughest job of all.”
“Look at me,” said Torres, his voice filling with bravado. “You think those little pussies scare me?”
