The Lawless Kind (11 page)

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Authors: Matt Hilton

BOOK: The Lawless Kind
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I wasn’t thinking that way, but it wasn’t yet time to voice my concerns.

Rink was making his way round the van, crouching and feeling along the sills and wheel arches, the easiest places for someone to attach a magnetic device. To spare Harvey’s neat clothing, I went down on my back and checked the undercarriage. I didn’t expect to find anything and didn’t. Rink had finished his check with similar results.

‘The van was locked the whole time we were inside,’ Harvey pointed out, ‘and they couldn’t have got under the hood without triggering the alarm. I don’t think they got to the van.’

I stood staring up at the sky. The sun was coming up behind me, making the sky overhead a pot-pourri of pastel shades while the western horizon was wreathed in purple haze. The contrail from a jet liner had broken apart, making a dotted line through the heavens. The highway was deserted, bordered on either side by tilled fields, with distant buildings marking small farmsteads. A few goats grazed on scrubby grass; nothing else moved that I could see. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there. I’d had similar misgivings when Kirstie had first arrived in Arizona: that someone was watching her beyond my ability to spot them. I caught a look of realisation from Rink. He stalked over, nodding me out of earshot of Kirstie. ‘The van was supplied by Walter. You think the old bastard has been monitoring our movements?’

‘He doesn’t need to,’ I reminded him. ‘Walt knows where we’re going and what we intend doing when we get there. He can call us any time for an update. Plus, why would he organise an ambush and try to have us killed? If he had, he wouldn’t have sent one soldier and a bunch of local gangbangers.’

‘I suppose you’re right. But we have to consider something else.’ He stabbed a finger at the van. ‘That van
is
from a CIA pool.’

‘You think the Agency got wind of Walter’s private mission, and sanctioned the hit on us by Marshall?’

‘Just a suggestion.’

‘But why would they want us to fail?’

‘Who knows what operations they’re involved in concerning the various cartels. Perhaps they don’t want us blundering into the middle of an op they’ve got going concerning Molina.’

‘Bit extreme having us killed, isn’t it? They could quite easily have followed legal protocols and had us arrested by the genuine police.’

‘Walter’s not the only one with enemies inside the Agency,’ Rink said. ‘There are certain individuals who would prefer to see us dead. Maybe they saw this as the ideal opportunity to kill us and strike a blow against Walt.’

Pondering those words we joined the others by the van. I waved everyone together, while Rink took over sentry duty from Velasquez and McTeer.

‘There’s a possibility that the van has a tracker inside somewhere, but without tearing it to pieces we’ll never find it. The thing is, we can’t abandon it. Not yet. We still need to get to Hermosillo fast. From here we’re going to have to be alert at all times, because you can bet your arse there’ll be another attempt on our lives. If you need the toilet, I suggest you go now, because we’re not stopping again until we reach Hermosillo.’

Kirstie checked out the flat land, where the tallest obstacle nearby was a boulder the size of a basketball poking from the gritty earth. ‘I think I can wait.’ She climbed inside the back of the van, allowing the men privacy to go through with the necessities.

Taking my own advice, I took a leak on the shoulder of the road. Back in the van, Kirstie was holding her Glock in her lap. I didn’t comment, or ask her to put it away. If further attack were imminent, we’d need all the firepower we had.

Chapter 14

 

Hermosillo was a huge city, but then it is the capital of Sonora State. It was spread throughout a natural basin, dotted with large rock formations – one of them known locally as The Bell standing proud over the city, adorned by twin telecommunication towers that blinked with aircraft warning lights in the early-morning haze. To look at the city’s location with a different eye, I could imagine that this was once an inland sea, and the rock formations islands that spotted its surface. But then what did I know of prehistoric Mexico? The city was a mixture of high culture and extreme poverty. On the one hand there was the neo-Gothic Cathedral of the Assumption, the neoclassical Government Palace, and the grand façades of the Museum of Sonora, and on the other, tenement buildings and humble adobe structures both decrepit and overcrowded. The place was known as the Sun City, but I wondered how often its poorer denizens actually lifted their heads from abject poverty to view the brilliance above them. I made a silent bet that Jorge Molina lived in opulence while making his living from the subjugation of those poorer souls. There he would find the customers for his drugs, the girls for export to the sex trade, and the footsoldiers of his private army. I hated him passionately.

That I was growing to admire his ex-wife so much may have been a factor.

Following the incident earlier, those of a faint-hearted disposition would have succumbed to anxiety, even hysteria.But Kirstie had grown more resolute. Maybe she had inherited some of the grit from her grandparents, who could not have survived as long in their positions with the CIA without having staunch hearts. Or perhaps I was underestimating the love of a mother for her child.

The van was parked on a shoulder of dirt high on one of the ancient islands, so that we could observe the city before driving in later. If indeed the van’s position was being monitored, no one had tried a second assault on us during the drive here. On the outskirts of the city it was unlikely we’d be troubled too much so we’d taken the opportunity to stretch our legs, and consume some of the food and drink we’d fetched. Having eaten a sandwich and gulped down a bottle of water, Kirstie had retreated inside the van, as much to escape the burgeoning heat as from fear of discovery.

Having had my fill of the view of Hermosillo, I climbed back inside to find Kirstie sitting on the bench seat she’d occupied since losing our car. Her Glock was pushed into her waistband, at the back, mirroring my usual carrying position. She was staring into space, her mouth slightly open, the tip of her tongue dancing from one tooth to the next. I took it that she was not in the mood for company. I was about to back out of the van when she looked directly at me and smiled. It would have been rude to leave.

‘This is it, Joe,’ she said. ‘The point of no return, eh?’

I came to sit next to her.

‘Yeah. This is where things begin to get dangerous,’ I said with no hint of irony.

Her chuckle was strained, but she shifted, squaring her shoulders, subconsciously showing that she was ready for any challenge. Her shoulder touched mine, but she didn’t move away. Neither did I. In the close confines of the van her perfume was heavier, a musky edge to it, and my eyelids closed as I savoured it. I exhaled, and Kirstie perhaps mistook the sigh for concern.

‘Do you think everything will be OK?’

Her face was inches from mine.

‘We must have faith.’

‘In God?’

‘In whatever gives you strength,’ I corrected.

‘You’re talking about the abilities of you and your friends.’

Pinching my lips, I nodded slowly.

‘You’re pretty sure of yourself. I don’t mean that as an insult, Joe.’

‘I didn’t take it as one. Maybe I can come across as rather conceited, but unless you’re certain of your abilities you shouldn’t be in this kind of business.’

‘I wish I was as confident.’

‘Of us?’

‘Of myself,’ she corrected.

‘You’re doing just fine.’ I patted her knee, then quickly withdrew my hand for fear she’d misconstrue the gesture.

‘Am I? Maybe it doesn’t show but I’m terrified. Not for myself. I’m terrified for Benjamin and what he might become if we fail to rescue him from Jorge.’

‘That’s only natural.’

‘Are you ever afraid?’

‘In situations like this?All the time.’ I hung my head, wondering if I’d just admitted a truth I shouldn’t have. Kirstie required a fearless champion, not someone who admitted to weakness. ‘But fear is good. Fearlessness can make you reckless, whereas a healthy regard for your life keeps you alert. Soldiers learn to embrace their fear, to control it, and use it to take the war back to their enemies with more determination.’

‘That’s rather philosophical,’ she said. ‘How do you do that when you can barely think straight, your stomach’s in a knot and you can’t stop your hands from shaking?’

If a soldier had asked that question there’d have been one answer: suck it up. But these circumstances demanded a different approach. ‘You think of your kid, and you do it for him.’

Her eyes glossed with tears. ‘That’s what I’m trying to do . . . but it doesn’t seem to be working.’

‘I think that when it comes to the crunch you’ll surprise yourself, Kirstie.’

‘I hope you’re right, Joe.’ She placed a hand on my forearm, her fingers gripping tightly. ‘But right now I really need the reassurance. Will you do something for me?’

‘Yeah, of course, what is it?’

‘Will you please hold me?’

‘Sure.’

I opened my arms and Kirstie moved into their embrace, pressing her face into my chest so that the cap fell off and her hair spread over my shoulder. She held on tightly, her shivering detectable wherever she was pressed to my body. There was nothing sexual about the embrace, just one human being seeking solace in the closeness of another. A moment later the sobbing began, and I adjusted my arms to hold her tighter, to help her through the moment of heartache. My left hand fell on her hair and I smoothed it over her ear and brow, even as I told her that everything would turn out just fine. We remained that way for perhaps some minutes before her weeping subsided and she stopped shaking. Slowly, as if unsure of herself, she lifted her face. I felt her breath on my lips and it was my turn to shiver. The tips of her fingers traced the wound on my scalp, before trailing down my cheek to my jaw. I exhaled a pent-up breath, and she opened her mouth as if to accept it. To ease its passage I leaned in and our lips brushed. I felt an electric spark jump between us, and gave in to the inevitable attraction. I’ve loved women before – my ex-wife Diane, Kate Piers, Imogen Ballard – but it was a long time since I’d kissed anyone the way I surrendered to Kirstie’s mouth.

Hell if I know where that kiss would have led if Rink hadn’t chosen that moment to bang on the side of the van.

‘Time to roll,’ he called loudly before coming round to the open doors.

By the time he appeared, I was on the opposite bench, scratching my head as though checking out my wound, while Kirstie had pulled the cap back on. Rink said nothing, but he knew. He spared our blushes for as long as it took for Kirstie to feign sleep once more, then he dug me in the ribs with an elbow and showed me his best shit-eating grin. I grinned back like a besotted teenager.

Chapter 15

 

‘Getting in is going to be difficult. Getting out could be impossible.’

Raul Velasquez sat down at the café table I’d commandeered in a market square in an old part of the city. I’d ordered him a Coronita, just the one light beer, because we needed our full wits about us. A wedge of lime had been jammed in the neck, and Velasquez used the fleshy part of his thumb to press it further into the liquid. He took a long draught of the cold beer as I considered his words. My own beer was about half finished, but I didn’t touch it for now. From the doorway of the restaurant an elderly man was being over-attentive, and each time I reached for the bottle he took a step forward, anticipating another sale.

‘Numbers?’ I asked.

‘Best guess is around a dozen. Not all of them are footsoldiers, some of them are staff. And that doesn’t include Molina or his father. Unfortunately I didn’t get a look at either of them.’

‘Supposing that they have six house staff, that leaves at least eight guns to contend with.’

‘Perhaps more. I was only able to count those I saw, but there could have been others inside. One of the house staff has to be considered a bogey as well. He’s a chauffeur, but most of those guys double as bodyguards.’

‘Did you see the kid?’

Velasquez shook his head.

I reached for my beer. ‘We need to go back.’

Velasquez had been the obvious choice to run first surveillance on Molina’s home. He could pass as a local in a way that none of the rest of us could. An ex-cop and practising PI, he had experience of conducting surveillance, but that was with a law enforcement eye and not military. He’d said that it would be difficult getting inside the walled complex, impossible to get back out again, but he was talking from a cop’s perspective. Rink and I and, to a lesser extent, Harvey, came with a different skill set, and had experience of infiltrating and escaping enemy strongholds.

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