New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2) (35 page)

“Uneasy about how the last stop will proceed.
 
Just hold me.
 
The events of recent weeks are crowding
into my brain – from the shootings at Spook Hills and in London, worries we
could lose Lenny or Mathew, that day you were abducted, never hearing whether
Jeremy is my son or not and now a likely volatile and dangerous situation
tomorrow.
 
Guess I am a little old
for this field agent stuff.
 
Hold me
while my brain sorts itself out.
 
Running
low on sleep isn’t helping.”

Ivy held him close for a couple of minutes.
 
Feeling how tense Steve remained, she rolled
him over on his back, and crawled on top of him, stretching out her full height
and caressing his shoulders.
 
She
floated down, kissing his chest, gliding
her tongue along his midriff and letting her breath rouse the shy skin near his
groin.
 
Her lips ran down, finding the
root of him to tease him into the fullness she craved.
 

They made love as they did the first time two years before,
with her pushing herself back up and straddling him.
 
Even though Steve
enjoyed
whatever she wanted, this way of making love tended to be
his favorite, where they watched and touched each other.
 
Ivy circled her hands over his chest swaying
her hips to intensify the sensation. Their closeness so fulfilled each of them
that they often coasted along like this, enjoying each other where an hour
could go by as quickly as a few minutes.

Steve propped himself up on an elbow, then began moving one
hand smoothly along her thigh until he reached her warm center.
 
In a delicate
motion
,
he played three fingers one after the other to bring her into a higher state of
arousal before quickening his tantalizing stroking until she arched her back,
flung back her head and threw herself forward, thrilling in her first
orgasm.
 

Believe
in this man
who would give his life for hers, who brought so much richness into her
existence and who with a glance could make her want to climb into bed with
him?
 
Of
course
she placed her full confidence in him.
 
If she had never met Steve, she would not be
wrapped in this cocoon of love they shared, which went beyond the physical,
delving deep into their emotions and uniting them in spirit.
 

She altered position, leaning down over his chest and
wrapping her arms under his as he sank back against the pillows.
 
She wanted her second climax to coincide with
his hoping that this sense of togetherness would stay with Steve the next day.

Callie lay awake in her room on the other side of the
hotel in Albuquerque.
 
After arriving
home the preceding night, she continued to brood over leaving Mathew.
 
She heard from her attorney that the divorce
papers had gone before the judge for the final decree that day.
 
Included was the agreement that if anything
happened
to her, custody for Susannah would
transfer to Rick and Sassy.
 
Callie was
pleased to hear that the Judge had signed the papers.
 

Around midnight Susannah knocked lightly on her door and
came into the room, sliding into bed next to her.

“What is it Bumblebee?
 
Can’t sleep?” Callie asked Susannah.

“You should be with Mathew,” Susannah said in an accusing
tone.
 
“How could you come home?
 
Mathew is
wounded
.
 
He needs you.”

Callie sighed and held her daughter’s hand.
 
“Mathew is a trained FBI agent.
 
He has Steve,
Ivy
and Lenny with him, not to mention a bunch of
agents
out of the Albuquerque office.
 
I have no
way to protect him.
 
Susannah, my place
is here with you.
 
This is where Mathew
wants me to be.”

“I have Uncle Rick, Aunt
Sassy
and those FBI agents, plus Fred, Federico and Terry.”

“Not to mention Druid, Firewire, and the three dogs,” Callie
said teasingly.

“That’s what I mean.
 
I will be okay.
 
You need to be
with Mathew.
 
He rescued me.
 
Now he might need rescuing.
 
If you
don't
go
back to be with him, I’ll go.”

Callie regarded her daughter as she thought again about
Mathew and her uncertainty about where she should be.
 
She
now
understood
that Susannah too had developed feelings for Mathew.
 
Whether it was a childhood crush or a search
for a father figure to replace her real father, Callie was unsure.
 
Likely it was a little of both at her daughter’s
age.

Callie pulled the covers up around Susannah and smoothed
back her hair, “You get some sleep.
 
We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“You’ll think about it?” Susannah said, as her eyes grew
heavy
in that way children could nod off to
sleep as soon as they unloaded their troubles.

“I’ll think of nothing else,” Callie promised as she
snuggled down next to Susannah.
 
She
leaned over to give her a second goodnight kiss, then lay on her back with her
eyes open for at least an hour, knowing she should stay with Susannah and yet
her heart pulled her towards Albuquerque.
 
When she finally drifted off, images of Mathew kept coming to her –
Mathew in the silly Glögg apron,
Mathew's
eyes lit up with amusement, Mathew unconscious in the London Hospital, Mathew
walking in with Susannah after the kidnapping . . .

When she woke the next morning, the answer was clear.
 
She would fly to New Mexico that day, check
into a hotel and then slip out very early to wait near the cemetery.
 
After considering the united front of Callie
and Susannah in front of him, Uncle Rick spent time on his PC setting up the
travel and printing out directions.
 

Callie remembered the name of the cemetery where the Fuentes
bodies were
interred,
and she had the
name of the hotel where Mathew was staying.
 
If
she
could catch Ivy alone, she
might approach her.
 
Ivy would understand
why she returned.

If all went well, Callie could be back in Portland the next
evening.
 
Otherwise
she would be in Albuquerque if Mathew, Steve or Ivy were injured.
 
She did not allow herself to think that one
of them could die.
 
Although worried
about her safety, Rick and Sassy supported her decision.
 

Once in Albuquerque, Callie rented a car and then bought
some pepper spray and a heavy flashlight to have some form of protection.
 
She set her alarm for 3 a.m., wanting to be
out of the hotel and parked near the cemetery before Mathew or any of her
friends were out and about.
 
She would not
go near the action, but when it was over she wanted to be there to help Mathew
and the others.

Early in the
morning,
Steve and Mathew picked up a rugged black assault vehicle.
 
From the FBI
offices
Ivy headed off with Lenny in an ambulance to be positioned near the cemetery,
ready to race in if needed.
 
Mathew was
relying on her to keep Lenny in the ambulance and away from any
firefight
.
 
Ivy was not sure that Mathew should be out in the cemetery, but this was
his operation to run, with Steve at the ready to steer him right and to protect
him.
 
She had to respect their collective
judgements.

Lenny cruised past the
cemetery
,
noting the entrance that would get them closest to the Fuentes graves.
 
Ivy watched Steve in the assault vehicle as
he maneuvered down the gravel roadway.
 
Then Lenny turned into a nearby side street and parked in front of a red
Toyota.
 
He positioned the ambulance with
its nose out, turned off the motor and waited for a signal.
 
He had a headset on and would be in contact
with Mathew and Steve on a shortwave connection as well as a cell phone.
 
Lenny and Ivy settled in to wait until dawn,
sipping coffee the hotel had supplied.

A soft knock on her window made Ivy jump in her seat.
 
She swung her head to look out, her hand
automatically going for her gun.
 
Lenny already
had his out and pointed at the window.
 
Outside in the soft streetlight
,
she could see that it was Callie.
 
Lenny
lowered his weapon.

After rolling down the window, Ivy said, “Callie!
 
What are you doing here?”

“Worrying.
 
Let me
stay with you.”

“How did you know how to find us?”

“Luck.
 
That’s my
rental car you parked in front of.
 
I had
to flop over the console so you wouldn’t see me.”

Ivy peered over at Lenny.

He sat shaking his head, then he said, “Man oh man,
Mathew
and Steve are going to be pissed no
matter what we do.
 
If she is here,
better to have her with us where we can protect her.”
 

“Quick Callie,” Ivy said, opening the door and sliding over
by the center console, “scrunch in next to me.”

Lenny went to call Mathew, but Ivy stopped him.
 
“Mathew has enough on his mind right now.
 
We’ll take care of Callie.”

Over in the cemetery, Steve maneuvered the armored
vehicle into the spot selected from Google Earth maps – a slight rise where the
land headed to the mountains. Finding places to station themselves at the
Albuquerque cemetery proved harder than in Florida since the only section with
large headstones sat far from the Fuentes graves where only
flat
stone markers with numbers identified each
body.
 

Steve and Mathew got warily out to scout out the brothers’
gravesites.
 
They found them where they
lay in parallel graves under the soil as if unremembered.
 
After finding the
graves
and surveying the area, they moved back to the assault
vehicle some distance away.
 
Mathew and
Steve
positioned
themselves outside at
the back corners of the
vehicle
, just out
of sight.
 
They considered staying in the
armored
SUV
but felt it their duty to be
more mobile in case the Fuentes required additional protection.

From where they stood, they could cover the gravesites in
front of them.
 
The ninjas, as they
called fully-equipped SWAT agents, arrived in separate vehicles and searched
for vantage points, with some scaling up into the half-grown trees planted
along the walkways and
in
the plots.

The pre-dawn light skidding along the horizon turned the sky
a dark
violet, showing long slate clouds
down low.
 
Sunrise would be swift once
the sun graced the
vista
, making a glow
of pink magnificence.
 
Mathew’s cell
vibrated in his
pocket,
and he answered
it, expecting to hear from Brian or Moll.
 
Instead
his friend from the New
York office called.

“Something you might want to know.
 
I mean not like you are on a case,”
his
friend said.

“Not me, I’m done with case work,” Mathew said into the
phone.

“Yeah right,” his friend said.
 
“I’m aware you and your cohorts, including
Nielsen, consult back to us.
 
I found out
Gerkasky is on a job for the DEA out in New Mexico.
 
A squad was flown in stealth mode from D.C.
for an op this morning.
 
The DEA leader
is the fellow you worked with
that Fuentes case where the drug lords kept sending actors out to impersonate
them.
 
Remember him?”

“Yeah, that fool twice led us into setups.”

“I understand the DEA leader is still pissed about being cut
out of the big bust at the Fuentes place you did last November.
 
He has been out to prove himself ever
since.
 
He’s not a bad guy, but he went a
bit berserk when he got passed over for
promotion
this year.”

“Any more details you can give me?
 
Number
of personnel sent out, location?” Mathew asked.

“Nothing more.
 
Happened to be talking
to
a guy in
Logistics this morning.
 
Nothing in the
files I can access.”

“
Thanks,
man.
 
I owe you on this one.”

“Call to tell me how this op you’re not on turns out.”

Ducking back behind the assault vehicle, Mathew walked over
to Steve and said.
 
“Got a call from my
buddy in New York.
 
We will have
company.
 
T
he
Warthog and a DEA force out of DC are on their way, headed by
the clown we dealt with last year
in
the
Fuentes case. Must be Scenario 13.13 for us.”

“Damn.
 
Got to move
closer.”

“Let’s drive this tank in.
 
Everyone can see us anyway.”

“Got it,” Steve said.

“I’ll alert our guys.”
 
Mathew switched back to his phone to call Brian and Moll and confirm
arrangements.
 
His last call went to
Lenny to alert him to be ready to roll in and reminding him of the code
signal.
 

The sun began lighting up the clouds in deep shades of
magenta and amethyst, making Mathew realize how the universe continued in an
uncaring way, while all their
attention was
centered
on this one little locale.
 
Today
he
would risk taking off his encumbering sling
when moving into shooting
position
because he might need to make a few well-placed shots.
 
He and Steve positioned themselves behind the
vehicle’s fenders.

Across the flat open expanse of brown grass, figures moved
towards them in the
dim, dusky
light.
 

“We’ve got intruders,” Mathew said into the headset.

“See them,” Steve replied.
 
“Appear to be DEA.
 
One heading
your way in plain black clothes.
 
Might
be the Warthog.”

“Resembles him from what I can tell in this light. Three
circling behind him.
 
Crawling on the
ground.”

“Got ‘em,” Steve said.
 
“Be ready to move into place.”

The sun crested the skyline when the assault van
transporting the Fuentes pulled up.
 
Brian and Moll climbed out first wearing full FBI attack garb.
 
Each of them flanked the Fuentes as they
stepped out of the car to move to the graves.
 

Julio kept his face a mask of composure.
 
Cruze scanned the scene, looking tense and
ready to run.
 
When Julio poked him in
the side, he took out a pair of aviator sunglasses, put them on, and stood
erect to prepare himself for whatever his fate might be.
 

The group walked across the turf in deliberate steps trying
not to look fearful, but each alert and ready to move.
 
Each of the Fuentes held red roses, perhaps
to honor the violent deaths of Cristo and Eduardo.

They stopped at the foot of the flat graves of the dead
brothers, each one standing with their heads bowed.
 
Cruze sunk to his knees.
 
Mathew could see that he was crying.
 
Julio bent over and laid a rose on each
grave, then stood up, rested a hand on Cruze’s shoulder and then appeared to be
praying.
 
After a few minutes, Julio
helped Cruze to his feet.
 
They stood
side by side staring down at the graves.

“Mathew, three big SUVs are speeding in,” Ivy yelled into
the microphone.

He twisted his head around to see the action and spoke into
the mic, “Hostile intruders coming in fast.
 
Code Red.
 
Steve, Scenario
13.13.
 
Do it now.”

Time slowed for Mathew.
 
Steve stepped out from behind the assault vehicle to face the
Fuentes.
 
Brian and Moll stepped away
from the cousins,
moving
back about three
yards and drawing their weapons

The man thought to be the Warthog sprang into firing
position, aiming at Cruze’s back.
 
Steve
raised his revolver, facing the Fuentes where they stood by the resting places
of Cristo and Eduardo.
 
Julio and Cruze
each raised a pistol.
 

The Warthog shifted his aim to Steve.
 
Mathew jumped
out,
and the Warthog swung rapidly, getting off a potshot at Mathew, hitting him
on
the left side of his chest.
 
He reeled from the hard impact into his vest,
rocked back, sucked in his gut and forced himself into his shooter’s posture.

"Everyone hold," Mathew said into the
headset
.
 
In one rapid motion, Mathew blasted the Warthog in the right arm and
then in the left leg, targeting to disable him.
 
The man dropped his weapon, clutching his calf and curling up in
pain.
 

Steve slid his eyes down to his
gun
with a quick glance at the handgrip.
 
Mathew noticed that Lenny was already roaring
in with the ambulance.
 
He wasn’t
supposed to arrive at the cemetery yet.

The Fuentes stared at Steve.
 
Julio lifted his right hand holding his gun and slightly raising his
index finger a little higher than the rest.
 

Cruze took aim at
Steve and
fired.
 
T
he shot went a little
wide to his right.

"Steve, now," Mathew said into the mic.

He watched Steve slide his eyes quickly from Julio to Cruze
and back again, then Steve fired, hammering Julio in the chest and then Cruze
in the same spot.

The Fuentes stood for only a moment as if stunned
by
death.
 
Julio fell backward, clutched the front of his shirt and landed in an
awkward sprawl.
 
Cruze fell forward
grabbing his jacket and sinking to his knees.
 
He started to cross
himself
but
keeled over face down before he could finish.
 
Both the Fuentes lay still in front of Steve.

Mathew rushed forward to check Julio for signs of life.
 
Steve ran to Cruze in a few
long
strides, placing his hand on his neck,
testing for a pulse.
 
He and Mathew gave each
other curt nods.
 

For Mathew, time sped up again.
 

Suddenly from the ambulance, Callie ran out screaming, “What
are you doing?
 
How could you?”

“What the hell?
 
Callie!
 
Get down!” Mathew yelled
and ran after her, grabbing her arms and hurling himself over her on the
ground, wanting to shelter her from any further gunfire.
 

Callie squirmed under him, trying to break away.
 
Mathew held her fast, wanting only to protect
her.

Ivy
leaped
out,
running to Steve’s side, her pistol
drawn
and taking in the spectacle in front of them.
 
Steve threw himself over Ivy, falling to the ground with her away from
Cruze.

A bunch of thugs hurtled out of the SUVs, gawking and
drawing weapons.
 
Ninjas and agents from
the DEA and FBI began popping up all over, scampering down trees and heading
for the SUVs, blasting out tires and surrounding the hooligans.
 
All the attention moved away from the Fuentes
to the shootout on the right.
 

Brian called for medical backup while running to stand in
front of Steve and Ivy.
 
Moll dashed over
to take Mathew's place and flung himself over Callie.