Haunted (30 page)

The guy speaks into the radio. He uses the clipped, acronym-filled lingo of one agent to another. But when the answer comes back, it’s something I can understand.

They will have the helicopter here in thirty minutes.

I look at Max. He doesn’t look like Max anymore. He’s gone from pale to ashen. I can see through his eyelids. The pool of blood under him is too big, too thick. His breath is so shallow, it hardly flutters his chest.

I touch his cheek. I hope he has thirty minutes.

* * *

FOR THE FIRST TIME, CULEBRA, ADELITA AND I ARE ABLE to sit together without a gun or the threat of violence hanging over our heads. We sit close to Max so we can watch one of the agents, a medic, attend to him. The medic packs the wound to staunch the flow of blood, runs an IV to replenish liquids. He won’t give us a prognosis. And Max still hasn’t regained consciousness.

The medic looks at me, bloodsoaked but apparently unhurt, and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t need medical attention, too?”

I shake my head. I can feel four bullets, one in each arm, one in my left shoulder and a fourth (which I didn’t know about until it started moving) in my right thigh. I’ve been shot before, but it’s always been through and through. I don’t know what to expect with these wounds. Will the bullets work their way to the surface of my skin and have to be squeezed out like metal blackheads?

A charming visual.

I’ve had a healthy infusion of blood so I’m not worried about my body’s ability to heal itself. Actually, I’m not even in much pain.

I dip my head in Culebra’s direction. “What about you? Were you hit by any of those bullets zipping about?”

He shakes his head. Out loud, he says, “Lucky, I guess.” Internally, he says,
Hard to hit anything when you’re shaking so bad, you can barely hold a gun, let alone aim it. No human is prepared for the sight of a rattlesnake as long as two men.

Adelita wrings her hands. “Max will be all right, won’t he?”

She addresses the question to no one and everyone. I wish I could give her an unequivocal yes, but she’s seen so much death today, unless Max opened his eyes and told her himself, I doubt she’d believe it.

Open your eyes, Max. I want to believe it, too.

Outside the hangar, the agents have rounded up the survivors of Pablo’s gang and have them bound and gagged, awaiting the
Federales
. Only Pablo and Maria will be flown back to the border. I suspect most of the gang will be back on the streets in twenty-four hours. And with Luis and Pablo out of the picture, they’ll be jockeying for leadership of the cartel.

So what exactly have we accomplished?

I look at Max, lying pale and still on the ground. What did he tell Luis? We might not have made a dent in the drug trade, but we’ve taken two predators off the street.

If he dies, was it worth it?

Adelita is leaning over Max, wiping his face with a damp cloth. She’s alive.

There are four young girls in a safe house—unmolested and alive.

Max’s body suddenly jerks. His back arches, his chest heaves as if his lungs can no longer draw air. The medic shoulders Adelita aside and listens to Max’s chest with a stethoscope. “He has a collapsed lung.”

He goes to work with items he pulls from his bag—a scalpel, a tube, something that looks like a manual suction pump. He makes an incision in the skin above Max’s rib cage, inserts the tube and works the pump. Pale liquid flows into the tube and almost instantly, Max relaxes. The medic places an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. He drops the suction pump and yells to his buddies by the hangar door, “How much longer ’til that chopper gets here?”

CHAPTER 59

I
HAVE MY ARMS AROUND ADELITA’S SHOULDERS. WE watch the medivac helicopter rise into the air. I wanted to go along with Max, but they wouldn’t allow it. Family maybe, but a civilian, no. They’re taking him to a Texas trauma hospital in McAllen until he’s stabilized. Then he’ll be transferred to a hospital in San Diego, near his home.

He never regained consciousness. He doesn’t know that Pablo is in custody. He doesn’t know that Culebra, Adelita and I made it out alive.

We return to the hangar. A mop-up operation is in full swing. Body bags are laid out. Nineteen of Pablo’s men were killed, several
Federales
, two DEA agents. The injured are on their way by ambulances to Reynosa—under heavy guard. Those forensic reports on Pablo’s men should make for interesting reading. I don’t know what kind of explanation will be offered for the number of broken necks and bloodless bodies or the suspicious fang marks of a huge snake on some of the bodies. Maybe no one will care how the narcos died.

Two rows of weapons are laid out, too, thirty AK-47s, ten Glocks and revolvers, a couple of knives big as machetes. Culebra can’t seem to take his eyes off the rifles. His thoughts are cloaked, but I don’t need the link to feel his despair.

Pablo and Maria are on their way by a second chopper to the San Diego border where both
Federales
and Federal agents are waiting to take them into custody. And to make sure they stay in custody. The U.S. government made it clear that this time, there will be no loopholes for Pablo to wiggle through. There was another incident of American tourists killed in narco cross fire just this morning. If Mexico is unwilling or unable to hold him, Pablo will be extradited to the U.S. to assure he is tried for his crimes. Baseball cap accompanied them along with a half dozen armed guards. They are taking no chances.

That leaves ten DEA agents, some
Federales
, Culebra, Adelita and me. The pilot and remaining uninjured narcos have been taken into custody by the
Federales
. The hangar is heavy with the smell of blood and death.

One of the agents sees us standing by Max’s car and walks over. For the first time, someone asks for identification. Culebra fishes his from the pocket of his jeans. It takes me a minute to remember where mine is—the glove compartment of the Explorer. I retrieve it with my wallet and hand it over.

He examines them. “You are free to go,” he says, handing our passports back. His eyes go to Adelita. “Are you a Mexican citizen?” he asks.

Culebra answers for her. “Yes. I’d like Adelita to come with me. She may be called as a witness against Pablo Santiago. I’m sure you’ve heard how he allowed his brother to kidnap and rape her. Then they destroyed her identification and left her for dead. I would like to assume responsibility for her safety. Agent Avillas made arrangements for her a day or two ago. If you check—”

The agent waves a hand. “I’ll take your word for it. But she is going to need papers. I’ll check with our field office and see what we can do.”

Once he’s walked far enough away, Culebra whispers to Adelita. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Think maybe you should have asked her first?” I ask.

Adelita looks from Culebra to me, her face sad and serious.

Culebra draws a breath. “I’m sorry. You have family here. I should have thought. We can explain to the agent when he comes back. I’m sure he’ll make arrangements to get you home safely.”

Adelita shakes her head. “I do have family here,” she says slowly. “Family that did not raise a hand to protect me when Ramon came for me. No one held them at gunpoint or threatened them. They must have known there were no jobs waiting for us. Other girls have been taken. None returned. Yet they let me go.” She stops abruptly, takes a breath. “You and Anna and Max have done more for me in three days than they had done all the years of my life. I would be proud to go with you.”

I frown at Culebra. “You can’t expect her to live with you in the cave.”

Adelita’s eyes grow big. “A cave? Like Ramon’s?”

“Uh—no.” Culebra’s shoulders hunch a little. “But it will only be temporary. I’ll get you enrolled in a good boarding school in Tijuana. I’ll come visit you every weekend.”

Adelita hooks her hand in Culebra’s arm and turns my way. “Do you live in Culebra’s cave, too?”

I laugh. “No. More like the bar. Actually, I live in San Diego. My home is right on the ocean.” I give Culebra a glance, realizing he’s never been to the cottage. “We’ll get Culebra to bring you to visit soon.”

Culebra raises his eyebrows, but Adelita has already chimed in with, “I’d like that,” so he can’t argue.

The agent who checked our IDs is coming back. He has a paper in his hand. “This is a temporary ID,” he says, handing it to Adelita. “You were right. Max had already set it up. But this is only temporary. You need to get official papers as soon as possible.”

“I’ll see that she does,” Culebra replies.

“How do you plan to get back?”

I glance at Max’s Explorer. “Can we take Max’s car? I’ll see it gets back to his apartment.”

“I don’t see why not.” The agent grins at me. “Max used to talk about you all the time. Then he stopped. If what broke you up can be fixed, I bet Max would make the effort. I’d never seen a man more crazy in love.”

I feel color flood up my neck. What broke us up is Max seeing something like what happened here—and running away from it as quickly as he could. Some damage can’t be repaired.

Even if Max survives.

The agent sees my discomfort. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He makes a self-conscious noise in his throat and changes the subject. “Do you have the keys?”

I cross to the driver’s side of the Explorer and look in. “Keys are in the ignition.”

“Then we have all the information we need. You are probably anxious to be on your way.” He gives us a two-fingered salute to the bill of his cap and turns on his heels. I think he’s the one anxious to get away, embarrassed he said anything about Max and me.

I gesture for Culebra and Adelita to join me. Hand the keys to Culebra.

“You want me to drive the first shift?” he asks.

“I want you to drive home. With Adelita.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not coming?”

I glance toward the helicopter still visible in the distance. “I’m going to the hospital. Stay in McAllen until I know Max is all right.”

Culebra tilts his head and peers into my face. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you at home?”

“Probably not,” I answer. “I’ll call Stephen as soon as I can.”

“Where are you going to stay? Do you have money for a hotel?”

I wave my wallet. “I’ll be fine.

Adelita steps up to me and hugs me so fiercely, I gasp. Then I laugh and hug her back. “Call me as soon as you get to Beso de la Muerte.”

Culebra watches as she crosses to the passenger side of the car. “You should be proud of what we’ve done today,” he says.

I blow out a breath. “You, too, my friend. Only one regret. Luis didn’t tell us the location of the guns. I saw you looking at the rifles. I should have made him talk before we left Ramon’s hideout.”

Culebra shrugs. “We thought we’d have time. Maybe with Luis dead and Pablo in jail, the cartel will be more involved with fighting each other for control then drug dealing. At least for a while they’ll use the guns on each other. Might give the DEA and
Federales
a chance to turn up the heat again. Close down some of the growers. Get to the source.”

His words make me think of Esmeralda and her sister. Stolen from their schoolyard while teachers looked on. The cancer runs deep.

Culebra looks around. “I guess it’s time to go.”

Still, he makes no move to get into the car. His thoughts are cloaked, but his feelings once again come through.

“You aren’t responsible for Max being shot,” I say quietly.

He looks reflexively toward the guns, watches a DEA agent as he goes from one to another, noting serial numbers. “You can’t know that.”

“Max wouldn’t hold you responsible. You fought with him. You have been a better friend to him than I have been to you. I am sorry for that.”

He opens the car door and slips inside. The emotion coming through now is mingled relief and sadness, both too deep to be put into words.

“Max has a GPS system,” I tell him, grasping for a way to breach the awkwardness. “Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

He scoffs, grinning at Adelita. “I know how to get home.
Yo no necesito ningún apestoso GPS.
”

Adelita looks puzzled. “Why don’t we need a
stinking GPS
?”

I laugh. “It’s Culebra’s idea of joke. A line from a movie,
The Treasure of Sierra Madre
.”

“Greatest movie ever made,” he says.

“Probably the last movie you ever saw, right?” I say.

“That, too.” He turns to Adelita. “Buckle up. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

Adelita pulls on the seat belt. Culebra puts the Explorer in gear and they back out of the hangar. Culebra is smiling and for the moment at least, his mind is at peace. Something it shocks me to realize I’ve never felt from him before.

I wave until the car disappears.

CHAPTER 60

I
’M SITTING BY MAX’S BEDSIDE. IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS and his condition has not changed. Loss of blood and the damage done by a jacketed bullet to his internal organs make his prognosis iffy at best.

I can’t leave him. As far as I know, he has no family. No one has showed up to visit except fellow DEA agents. They come to check on him and pay their respects. Capturing Pablo made him a hero.

But at what cost?

I’ve had lots of time to sort through the events of the last few days. Vampire has never been so virulent and aggressive as in that hangar. I don’t regret anything that happened, but I wonder if I’ll always be able to exert control over her. We are two sides of a single coin but one seems to turn up slightly more often. Right now, it’s the human side. But I can’t forget the thrill I felt as vampire, making Ramon pay, chasing and killing Pablo’s men.

I, the human me, was there inside, but I didn’t try to surface. Didn’t try to temper or restrain vampire. It felt too good to let go. Adrenaline and blood make a heady vampire cocktail.

Then there was Luis. I was strictly human when I shot him to make him talk. I was human when I dropped that grenade on the drug truck, knowing there were men inside.