Romero stole another look back over his shoulder. Samad and his Arabs were monsters, and Romero knew now that the time had come. He stopped and dug into his pocket for the detonator. And then he held his breath.
As Rueben lay there on his side, bleeding to death, something shimmered in the dirt near his hand. He thought it might be an angel, come to life from the dirt to rise up and save him. He reached out toward the tiny sparkle and trapped it between his fingers. It was too dark to see the object clearly, but it felt like a pendant, with smooth curves and a large eyelet. He remembered feeling a chain snap between his fingers as he’d fought against the Arab’s grip. He tucked the pendant deep into his palm, closed his eyes, and asked God to save him.
The cartel truck was about five or six cars ahead, and Moore estimated they were about twenty minutes away from the house. Towers had just called to say they’d lost contact with Ansara’s mule. The kid might be dead. Towers had five spotters watching the house from all angles, and thus far they’d reported the exit of a mule team but had not seen the boy. The Mexican Federal Police were supposed to have more spotters watching the warehouse in Mexicali, but thus far they had failed to answer any of Towers’s calls, their cooperation suddenly becoming nonexistent. Towers had several civilian spotters in the area who’d reported the arrival of several cars and more men who looked like mules, and that it appeared the construction site had lost power. Unfortunately, the civilians’ observation posts were not close enough to positively identify any of the mules.
Nevertheless, another group was definitely moving through the tunnel, and Moore assumed they were additional mules come to help transport the weapons.
Ansara was visibly moved by the news, gritting his teeth and swearing under his breath. “I didn’t think it’d come to this,” he eventually said, his voice cracking. “I was hoping to clean him up, set him back on the straight and narrow. He showed a lot of promise.”
“We don’t know what happened yet.”
“He must’ve choked.”
“He wasn’t wired, was he?”
“Just his Bluetooth. Nothing they can detect there. He might’ve panicked, said something. I don’t know yet. Towers was on another call when it happened.”
“Just clear your head, buddy, all right?” Moore asked. “It’s going to get hot real soon.”
“I want you to call Felipe right now and tell him you’re safely across. Tell him to release my family.”
Romero began to hyperventilate, and he fought to keep his hands from trembling. His thumb rested gently on the detonator’s main button, and a small status light glowed green. The red light would illuminate the moment he pushed the button. And about two seconds later, vengeance would be his.
“Pedro, what are you doing?” asked Samad, his gaze focusing on the detonator.
“I’m saving my family.”
“And you think this is the way?”
“I know it’s the way.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Did you think the cartel would build a tunnel like this without a way to destroy it? They don’t want their enemies taking advantage of all their hard work. Let me show you.” Romero shifted over to the wall and removed one of the acoustical panels to reveal several bricks of C-4 explosives. “There are fourteen charges. I supervised their installation myself. They will detonate in succession, sealing the entire tunnel. If we’re not killed in the blast, then we’ll be buried alive and suffocate before we’re rescued.”
Samad’s eyes widened. “You want to die? You’re ready to meet your God?”
Romero steeled his voice. “I’m ready — but I know you’re not; that’s why you
“I thought you would be much wiser than this. You’re a smart man, an engineer.”
“Call Felipe.”
“I would have released all of you anyway — did you know that?”
Romero held up the detonator. “I’m ready to do this.”
Samad sighed deeply. “You should have trusted us. All we wanted was safe passage into the United States.” He lowered his pistol and slipped his cell phone from his pocket. He dialed a number. “Hello, Felipe? Yes, hold on. I want you to talk to Senor Romero and tell him you are releasing his family. Let him talk to them if he’d like …”
Samad proffered the phone, and Romero carefully accepted it. “Felipe, please, release my family.”
“Okay, senor. Okay. Those are my orders.”
Romero took a few breaths, then heard his wife’s voice, and his shoulders shrank in relief. He kept the phone to his ear.
Samad pointed to the detonator and gestured for Romero to hand it over.
Romero looked at him. “What are you going to do when you get to the United States?”
Samad began to chuckle. “We’re going to eat cheeseburgers and french fries.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t let you go.”
“Do you think Felipe is the only one I’ve left back at the house? Again, you have to consider the complexity of what I’m doing. Now stop wasting my time. Give it to me.”
Romero thought for a few seconds more, then complied. Samad found the power switch, slid it off, then pocketed the detonator and gestured for them to continue. Romero stayed on the phone with Felipe and heard the voices of his daughters as well. They were all right but crying, begging him to come back home.
His wife got on the line. “Pedro? Are you there?”
“I’ll be home soon. Let me speak to Felipe.” Once the man was on the other end, Romero told him, “You leave my house now. You get out — and take anyone else with you.”
“If it is okay with Samad.”
“It’s okay,” said Romero, raising his voice. “Leave now!”
“All right.”
Samad raised a pistol to Romero’s head. “My phone.”
Romero returned the phone and walked on.
They reached the end of the tunnel, and Romero mounted the ladder and emerged inside the master- bedroom closet. There, he shifted back and waited as the Arabs rose, one by one, into the bedroom.
Romero was about to tell Samad he was leaving when a hand suddenly wrapped around his mouth and a low voice came in his ear, “Shhh shhh shhh …”
He didn’t realize a knife was being driven into his heart until it was already too late: A quick punch and the needling hot pain came quickly, radiating out from his chest.
“Shhh shhh shhh …”
He was lowered to the ground and released. He stared up at the dark ceiling until Samad leaned over him. “You’ve done Allah’s work, and you will be rewarded for it.
Romero closed his eyes. He did not want the last thing he saw in this world to be the face of a monster. He imagined his beautiful wife and daughters, knew that his ailing child would receive all she needed, that there was enough money and that he had provided a better life for them. He cried inwardly over having to leave them and over the pain his death would cause. They were strong women and would continue to fight in this life, as he had. Now he would build himself a new house, engineered using beams of light in the Kingdom of Heaven. And from there, he would wait for them.
Samad turned away from the dying Mexican and faced his group, gesturing to the floor as his phone began to vibrate. “These backpacks will come with us, but leave them on the floor with the launchers for now.”
Niazi and Talwar began helping the men slip off the backpacks containing the launchers. The man on the other end of the line was an ally from Afghanistan who said only two words in Pashto: “Two minutes.”
“We’re ready.”
