INVITING FIRE (A Sydney Rye Novel, #6) (2 page)

T
hree days later I was standing on a dusty road, Blue by my side, a machete strapped to my hip and tied to my leg. It made my movements a little stiffer than I liked but I could see in the eyes of the men who drove by that it was a message everyone could understand.

I pulled my hat lower, getting more of my face into shade. It was hot, the sun blazing out of a perfectly blue sky. Malina came out of the bodega carrying two big bottles of water, condensation pebbling on the plastic. I'd met Malina four years earlier, days after her best friend's murder. She was living in a border town in Mexico. Together we tracked the killers and then got ourselves kidnapped by them. Merl saved our asses but I kind of had it handled... enough anyway. We probably would have survived. Malina was a hard woman to kill. Even harder to ignore. Drop dead gorgeous, a former prostitute turned madam, Malina ran Joyful Justice's "intelligence assets”. We were here to pick one up. Joyful Justice would be nothing without the informants who came to us with their stories.

I took one of the bottles of water from Malina and screwed off the cap with a crack. Drinking deeply I felt the cold liquid travel down to my belly. Then turning to Blue I cupped my hand and shared the chilled relief. He lapped at my palm thirstily.

Malina checked her watch. It was thin and plastic, cheap looking against her bronzed skin. She turned to our ride, a dark green Land Rover from before I was born, outfitted with a black snorkel that snaked up the side of the windshield. The bonnet was welded shut. The extra large wheels made it so that Malina had to use a handle to haul herself up into the driver’s seat. It also meant we could cross most any river and didn't really need roads.

Blue followed me as I walked around to the back door. It was in the rear of the vehicle, like the emergency exit on a school bus. The door creaked and dust floated into the air when I opened it. Blue jumped into the back. Two rows of seats, each large enough for two people, faced each other. Blue lay down between them taking up most of the foot room. One of the benches had Malina’s and my overnight bags on it. Black, waterproof, and filled with clean clothing, toiletries, and fake I.D's.

I left the rear door open and bent down to tighten the laces on my boots. Blue growled low as I heard the sound of soft footsteps coming close. I looked at him and shot my chin up, meaning I wanted him on the seat opposite our bags. He climbed onto it, one paw at a time, so big he almost didn't fit.

The steps got closer and I stayed down, helping block the view someone might have of the slight woman climbing into the well of the seats. She curled up, looking smaller than Blue. I stood and leaned forward, tipping our bags onto her.

Closing the back door, I made sure the latch caught before going around to the passenger seat. Malina’s ponytail of long dark waves slid over her shoulder as she leaned across and opened the door for me. Grabbing the handle and placing my foot on the runner I jumped up into the vehicle. My machete was now loose at my side, reaching past my knee.

Malina adjusted her sunglasses, the dark lenses seeming to absorb the light around us, and pulled onto the road. The traffic was light. It was the hottest part of the day. The air conditioning spilled out lukewarm air. I rolled down my window and hot air poured in over us. Malina did the same. Our hair flew around our heads.

The road turned to ruts and then faded into nothingness as we drove through a metal gate leading into grazing fields. White cows, their skin loose and edged with gray chewed on long bright green grass, watching us with big, brown, trusting eyes. The girl in the back emerged from beneath the luggage to direct us, leaning over our seats, her eyes on the path ahead. We drove beyond the fields into a stand of trees and pulled to a stop. The shade did hardly anything to quell the heat.

I jumped out and went around to open the back. Flies buzzed around my face. Birds sang to each other. The girl, whose name was Frederica, sat next to Blue now. She had contacted us begging for help. She and a group of friends had been lured from Nicaragua to Costa Rica by Coyotes, promising jobs and a new life. But instead of freedom they'd found captivity. Frederica escaped and was determined to help her friends. This was just a reconnaissance mission though. Merl wanted to go after the head of the organization, force him to change his ways and those of the men who worked under him. But first, we needed to know exactly what they were doing. It was important to know how many people they were moving over the border, to have an understanding of the size and scope of their organization.

Frederica wore cheap-looking jeans and a purple T-shirt. Dust from the floor of the car soiled her pants and left a smudge across her cheek. She climbed out of the Land Rover and looked past the trees. A fly landed on her shoulder and she whacked it. The small iridescent black body fell into the grass. Blue leapt to the ground and took a long stretch, yawning his giant jaws wide, showing off white sharp teeth and a pink tongue that he extended and curled along with the rest of him.

Malina came around and lifted up the floor of the back seat. Dirt slid down the metal and pooled near the door. She reached in and pulled out binoculars. I reattached my machete. Frederica looked over at us. "Do you have other weapons?" she asked Malina in Spanish. In answer Malina reached back in and pulled out a handgun, passing it to me. I checked the clip, safety, and chamber. Bullets in all the right places.

Malina pulled on a shoulder holster over her tight black T-shirt and filled each sheath with two more guns. She handed me a holster and I unbuckled my belt, sliding the holster along its length until it sat on my left hip, keeping the machete on my right. We didn't have silencers and were not supposed to kill anyone. But the last time a plan went the way we expected... well, fuck, that never happened.

I gave Blue a bowl of water before we set back off on foot. His chin was still dripping as we made our way through the fields. The sun was a little more west, the absolute hottest part of the day about a half hour behind us. Frederica wore flip flops. They slapped at her bare feet. A breeze started up, rustling the long grasses. The field was filled with steep, short hills, Dr. Seuss-like in nature. Large trees dotted the landscape. We passed under one, the shade a short reprieve. The bark was lined with spikes, gray and sharp. Not a tree you could climb.

In the shade was a water trough for the cows, its cement interior lined with emerald green algae. Blue lapped at it, causing the algae to wave languidly with the movement of the water. I soaked my bandana, wrung it out and tied it back around my neck. Droplets trickled down my spine.

Frederica told us that the place her friends were being kept wasn't much further. Malina drank from her water bottle. A baby cow watched us with curiosity. Its mother, her udders swollen and hanging low, ignored our presence. There were about six cows all grazing nearby. Frederica approached them and the closest raised it head, jaw still working. As she got closer the cow backed away.

Blue figured there was a game in this and went around to help Frederica herd the animals. "What are you doing?" Malina asked Frederica.

"If we take the cows they are less likely to hear our approach," she said. Malina translated for me.

"Smart girl," I said.

"Probably why she's still alive," Malina said.

I watched as Frederica worked with Blue to move the cows out in front of us. Malina and I stayed close. As we climbed up one of those steep little hills Frederica began hunching forward, staying close to a large cow. I picked another one and copied Frederica's movements. She paused before we crested the top and Blue ran out in front stopping the cows. "We should be able to see it from up there," she said pointing at the top of the hill. Malina translated for me as Frederica lowered herself to the ground.

"We're crawling now?" I asked.

Malina shrugged. "Looks that way."

Blue ran over to me as I crouched down. He licked my cheek and wagged his tail. Loving this new game even more than the herding-the-cow fun he'd been having. I calmed him down, telling him to heel. He fell in line next to me as we followed the cows up the hill. Frederica flattened herself to the ground when she reached the top. A cow continued down the other side, its gait lazy and slow.

I belly-crawled, the grasses hiding me from any view but the birds. When I reached the top I could see a cinderblock structure below us. Frederica looked over at me. The girl was young, early 20's maybe even late teens. Her eyes were wide and there was determination in the set of her lips.

I listened for sounds of people but only heard the buzz of flies, the wind rustling in the grasses and the steady chewing of cows. Blue lay next to me, panting. I motioned for Frederica and Malina to stay put and began to inch forward. But Frederica grabbed onto my arm. I shook my head, letting her know I didn’t want her coming with me. She turned to Malina and began to speak.

The conversation was cut short when we heard voices. Two men stepped out of the structure. I pulled out my binoculars and peered through them. The men were smoking cigarettes. One of them was on the phone. We couldn't make out the words but he seemed upset. Pulled on his cigarette with gusto, his face red, sweat trickling down from his dark black hair. Neither of them was big but they had that scrawny strength. The kind that comes from being small in a big bad world. I looked over at Frederica again. She had soft curves, plump cheeks, long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Those men down there would own her.

The man on the phone hung up and turned to his friend, dropping his cigarette on the ground. They went back inside. The structure didn't have any windows on the side we could see. I began to move around, to check for other exits. How was I going to get a look inside? I wondered. Then the man who'd been on the phone came back out. He was pushing a bound man in front of him.

Frederica grabbed my arm harder, her fingers clamping down like the jaws of a vise. She said something to Malina. I waited for the translation, keeping my eyes on the men below us. The one who'd been on the phone pulled out a gun. Oh shit, I thought. "That's one of her friends," Malina said.

Frederica gasped when she saw her friend get knocked to his knees. The man who'd been on the phone raised his gun. I could hear the prisoner pleading in Spanish, his voice choked as he faced away from the weapon. He raised his hands and placed them together as if to pray. The other smoker came out, pushing three men in front of him and one woman.

The woman stumbled and knocked into the captive already on the ground. Her face was streaked with tears. The cows continued to munch grass just down the hill from us. Frederica shook my arm, urging me to do something. I looked back at Malina. Her sunglasses hid her gaze from me but she gave me a small nod. I turned back to the scene below and one of the men laughed. The other joined him. I couldn’t just watch them kill these people. It’s not what I did. It’s not who I was.

”Blue,” I whispered. His ears perked and he stared at me. I didn't have a command for telling him to herd cows down a hill, so I simply pointed at the cows and said, "Go." He seemed to understand. Staying low, just the tips of his ears and tail visible above the grasses, he moved toward the cows. The bovines saw him coming, and one mooed as they began trundling down the hill.

Blue picked up speed and nipped at one of the cow's heels. It raised its head, eyes rolling in their sockets and kicked out at Blue, who dodged deftly to the side, staying low, out of view of the people below. I moved down the hill, staying wide of the cows, Frederica and Malina right behind me. I saw the two men with guns look up as the cows broke into a run, their mooing growing in volume.

I was coming down the slope and moving right at the same time. Trying to flank them. The cows were keeping their attention away from the three of us. I paused and whispered to Malina to keep moving around, to come in behind them as I came in from the right. There was a moment when she would be exposed. Where the grasses had been cleared around the building. She didn't hesitate, taking off in the direction I'd pointed. The grasses shifted around her as she disappeared into them. I just had to make sure the men were still occupied by the time she got to the gap.

I continued down, trying to keep the right pace. Too fast and I'd get myself shot. Too slow and I wouldn't be saving shit. A shot rang out and spooked the cows even more. They raced up the hill away from the bang. More afraid of it than Blue. The first bound man to be pushed out the door lay crumpled on the ground. The woman was screaming. Frederica screamed. Both the armed men and the captives looked up in our direction. A storm of bullets flew our way. I heard them tearing through the grasses, thunking into the ground. It was highly unlikely those men could hit us out here if they were aiming but that didn't mean their peppering the hillside wasn't going to get us killed.

I covered my head and waited for the barrage to stop. When it did I peeked out and saw that one of the men was going inside. I didn't want to wait and see what he brought out. Instead I stood up, hauling Frederica with me. She stumbled as I pushed her to run left, toward Blue and away from the armed man. Then I took off down the hill toward him.

The gunman smiled as he aimed at me. I zigzagged and he missed repeatedly. I was getting closer but it wasn't going to be possible to run right up to him. Then Malina appeared from behind the house. Guns in each hand, arms extended, striding purposefully. The man didn't notice her because of the noise coming out of his own weapon. She shot at him once and missed. He turned to take aim. She fired again and his shoulder dipped, the gun dropping from his hand. She pressed the trigger again as he looked up at her. Blood exploded out of the back of his head and he fell onto to the ground, next to what would have been his last victim.

"Look out," I yelled to Malina as the other man emerged from the doorway holding a machine gun. It was huge, a belt of gold bullets hanging from it. He was smiling. Malina turned but he opened fire, riddling her with bullets. I saw them pass through her, blood and gore exploding out of her back. Her body twisted with each entry. One of the bullets ripped through her leg and hit one of the captive men in the side, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground. The smell of gunfire mixed with the earthy scents of manure and grass.