The Devil's Bounty (20 page)

‘Call Rafaela – ask her to hang back here,’ he said to Ty, pulling out from the kerb and falling in behind the fleeing Escalade.

Ty pulled out a pre-paid throwaway cell phone and made the call. A few moments later, he tucked it back into his pocket. ‘She ain’t happy about staying back there but she said she’ll check the house when the fire crew arrives.’

Lock’s hands tightened on the steering-wheel. ‘All right, then.’

Up ahead, the Escalade was stopped at a red light. Lock eased up and the Ranger dropped back. If it hadn’t been for the possibility that the girl was in the vehicle, and on the way to who knew where, he would have dropped out of the pursuit.

The lights flipped to green and the Escalade drove on. Lock followed at a respectful distance, keeping his eyes on the car but also looking out for other vehicles around and behind them. If the
driver of the Escalade had spotted them, which was possible, there was every chance he or she would call in reinforcements.

Presumably sensing Lock’s tension, Ty straightened up in the passenger seat, his head on a swivel, his gun in his hand. They passed a side road. A car pulled out in front of them. Lock swerved around it, careful to keep his hand off the horn. He checked it out in the rear-view. The driver, a middle-aged woman, was the sole occupant. It had been bad driving, nothing more. When he looked up again, the Escalade was out of sight.

Ty pointed at a crossroads. ‘He took a left up there.’

Lock accelerated a little, trying not to get over-anxious, but aware that if they lost the Escalade they might also lose the girl. Ty’s cell phone rang.

Lock spotted the car again as Ty took a call from Rafaela.

‘You’re sure?’ he heard Ty ask. ‘Okay.’

He gave Rafaela their current location and killed the call. ‘Looks like the girl and Charlie Mendez were there but they’re not now.’

‘Did she see any other vehicles exit the property after this one?’

Ty shook his head. ‘Better than evens they’re both inside, so what you want to do, Ryan?’

Lock took a moment. The Escalade’s movements were deliberate. It wasn’t as if the driver was idly circling the town. He had a destination in mind where, it was safe to assume, there would be reinforcements. The Escalade could hold maybe seven individuals. Not great odds, but better than they would be at another narco-mansion where they would have the same problems of entry.

‘I think we roll the dice,’ Lock said, burying the gas pedal and going hard after the fleeing Escalade.

Forty-nine

HECTOR HAD SPOTTED
the Toyota RAV 4 dropping in behind them a few blocks from the house. When you lived your entire life with one eye open at all times, it became second nature to pick out a car that was following you.

The white splash of headlights in his rear-view prevented him seeing exactly who was inside, but it hardly mattered. No doubt it was connected to whoever had set the fire at the side of the house as they were leaving – to which he’d been alerted by one of the guards as he’d pulled out of the driveway.

As he drove he had made a phone call, bringing his boss up to speed on what was going on. Zapatero had been freaked that he hadn’t travelled with additional security but Hector had assured him that he was fine: he had precautions in place. But if they were being followed it left a question mark over the girl. What did his boss want him to do now?

The original plan had been to bring her out to the ranch for a special party before she was disposed of. But with all four men set
to be there, delivering her might mean delivering trouble too. It wasn’t Hector’s job to offer opinions so he simply asked whether or not he should continue as ordered, or whether the plan should change. Zapatero had told him he would call him back.

At the end of the call, Charlie asked, ‘Everything okay?’

Hector smiled. ‘Sure. Everything’s fine.’

He glanced into the rear-view mirror to see the girl sitting awkwardly in the back. His cell phone rang.

‘Her attendance is no longer needed,’ Zapatero said, and hung up.

Over the years Hector had received many such calls. The language was always oblique. Not once had anyone ever told him to kill or maim someone. Instead they had told him to ‘deal with the situation’ or that a particular person was ‘no longer required’. The words were corporate, and unemotional. It left no doubt about what was expected and Hector had never been troubled by the task, but as the horrors had stacked up, his ability to block them out with alcohol or drugs had diminished.

He snuck another glance at Charlie and an idea took hold in his head. What was that phrase about two birds and one stone? Perhaps it was time Charlie Mendez was forced to confront the consequences of his actions and clean up his own mess for once.

Fifty

IN THE BACK
seat, Julia knew she had to escape before they reached their destination or she was dead. Since her kidnapping, when anyone had spoken Spanish to or around her, she had played dumb and pretended not to understand what was being said. The truth was different. Though she was far from fluent, she could broadly follow a conversation. And she could certainly pick out enough words to work out that Hector had just discussed whether she should live or die.

Sitting alone in the back seat, she had already tried the door. It was centrally locked, with no way of overriding it from where she was. Her only chance, she figured, was to cause some kind of distraction, and find a way to make them pull over. But it couldn’t be obvious, like pretending she had to pee. It had to be something from left field that would throw them off balance. Her mind flashed back to her childhood and road trips with her parents.

Leaning slightly forward in her seat, so that neither Charlie nor
Hector could see her, she jammed the index and middle fingers of her right hand into her mouth, forcing them down her throat until she began to gag.

Fifty-one

STARTLED BY THE
sound of retching, Hector twisted in the driver’s seat, just in time to catch the vomit as it arced from back seat to front. It splashed on the side of his face. His foot tapped at the brake as he piloted the Escalade to the side of the road. Next to him, Charlie must have caught some too because he exclaimed, ‘Jesus Christ,’ as Julia retched again.

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.

Hector brought the Escalade to a complete stop and turned to assess the damage. The Escalade would have to be cleaned. He could do it when they got to the ranch.

Charlie swiped at the vomit on his jacket. ‘Jesus, that’s disgusting,’ he said, opening the passenger door before Hector could stop him.

‘Where are you going?’ Hector asked.

Charlie shot him a you’re-only-the-help look and kept going. ‘To get some air. It freakin’ reeks in here.’

‘Can I get some air too?’ Julia asked, eyes pleading.

‘No,’ said Hector, firmly. In the seconds of confusion he had forgotten about the vehicle that had been following them. Now, as he checked the mirrors, he couldn’t see it anywhere. Something told him it had kept going, driving past when he had stopped, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe it hadn’t been following them after all. If it was someone who intended doing them harm surely they would have taken this opportunity.

‘Stay where you are,’ he said, and clambered out to retrieve Charlie. He slammed the door behind him and clicked the key fob to lock it. Let Julia suffer the stench.

A chill desert breeze caught him off guard. Charlie was standing a few feet at the back of the Escalade, hands cupped protectively around the red tip of a cigarette as the wind bit at the tobacco. Hector took a moment to study their surroundings. There was traffic, but not much. Maybe one car passing in either direction every forty seconds or so. He could see the city lights in the far distance. There was a metal crash barrier, and beyond that scrub desert. He glanced up into the night sky. A full moon hung high overhead.

He peered down the road for the RAV 4 or any other vehicle that might have stopped but there was nothing and no one. He walked to the back of the Escalade and repeated the procedure as a bus whizzed by on its way home from a
maquiladora
.

No one would stop. Hector knew that much. If someone broke down here it was their hard luck. It wasn’t only men such as him who were paranoid. It was the defining feeling on this side of the border. Good Samaritans had long since been snuffed out. A car at the side of the road would only be approached by someone looking for trouble.

This was his opportunity. The girl’s sickness had been a signal. He turned to Charlie. ‘Finish your cigarette.’

Charlie took a long final drag and crushed the butt under his heel. He started back towards the front passenger seat but Hector blocked his path with a meaty arm. Beyond the crash barrier the ground sloped down for about seven feet before levelling off and extending into the distance.

‘Wait down there,’ Hector said, with a nod towards the open ground.

Charlie stared at him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘It’s not what I’m going to do, Señor Mendez. It’s what
you
are going to do.’

Fifty-two

JULIA WATCHED AS
Hector walked back towards the car. He stopped at the rear passenger door. She tried to read his expression but it was impossible. He had one of those faces.

He started to open the door and her heart began to thump a little harder. This would be her chance. He was letting her out so he could clean the inside of the vehicle. All she needed was his back to be turned for a few seconds and she would run. If she could get over the barrier and down the slope before he had a chance to draw his weapon she had a chance to get away. If Charlie was still outside the vehicle she would have to make sure she was a good ten feet from him when she made her break. That would be enough. She ran every morning – at least two miles. She wasn’t the fastest but she had enough pace to put some distance between them, and she had stamina, which she doubted either man possessed. Hector was strong but out of shape, and Charlie was only good for catching girls he’d drugged.

It was only when the door was open and she caught the look on
Hector’s face as they made eye contact that she knew he wasn’t planning to clean the interior. He was letting her out so he could kill her. His face betrayed him: it spoke of shame and regret in equal measure.

Her mind racing, she shuffled along the seat, swung her legs out and emerged from the Escalade. She needed distance, a few metres between herself and Hector, but he stayed close. Glancing over, she saw Charlie, hands at his sides, his fingers drumming against his legs in agitation. He must know as well.

She would have to play along. If Hector suspected she knew, her fate was sealed. He would put a bullet in her then and there. A car was approaching. She thought for a moment about dashing towards it but Hector was so close she could feel him, and the chance of the car stopping in time, if it stopped at all, was slim.

‘I’m sorry about being sick,’ she said, half turning her head.

Hector shrugged, head down, eyes looking everywhere but at her. ‘Don’t worry.’

Testing his reaction, she took a half-step to the side. He didn’t appear to notice.

How far? she asked herself. How much distance would there have to be before she could make a run for it? Too much of a gap between them and he would notice; too little and she would stand no chance of getting away.

She looked again at the crash barrier, the slope beyond. That was when she noticed the gap in the barrier – a gap big enough for the Escalade to squeeze through. Even if she ran, Hector could take the Escalade down there. She could outrun him, and Charlie if she had to, but she wouldn’t be able to outrun the vehicle. Her shoulders slumped. She felt like crying. Her stomach lurched. She started towards the front of the vehicle. Hector began to follow
her. But as she doubled over to heave, she put out her arm to push him away. He backed off a little and she retched. A pathetic string of bile dribbled from her mouth. Something shifted in her mind. It was as if the fear she had felt all this time had been switched off.

As she groaned in apparent pain, signalling with her hand for them to give her space, she looked back at the road. On the other side of the road she spotted two sets of headlights in the distance approaching from the opposite direction. Between the side of the road they were on and the other there was another barrier with a gap, but it was close to a hundred metres away. On the other side, a matching barrier offered no such breach.

She straightened up for a second, hands falling to her hips. She tried to gauge the speed of the approaching vehicles by the ever-expanding orbit of their headlights. Hector was growing impatient. He was shouting to Charlie to join them. Then he turned to her.

‘Come on, we take a little walk. The air will be good for you,’ he said, his voice like an echo as she focused on what she had to do.

‘Give me a second,’ she said, losing the last of the sentence as she doubled over one more time, her right leg falling back a little to give her more of an explosive start.

Now
, she thought, pushing off on her right foot, twisting round the front of the Escalade and hurtling across the blacktop, everything around her a blur. Pressing her hands down on the crash barrier, she vaulted over it, stumbling as her feet touched down on the other side but quickly recovering her balance.

She could hear the approaching vehicles, the roar of their engines, but she didn’t dare stop to check how close they were. Hector had reacted faster than she had anticipated. For a big man
he moved fast. She couldn’t be certain but as she had run across the road she thought she had felt the toe of his sneaker brush the heel of her trailing foot. He could be only feet behind her, close enough that if she hesitated, even for a second, he would take her down.

She dashed straight across the road, white light enveloping her along with the nail-on-a-blackboard grating of brakes – more sensation than sound – and the chemical cloy of burning rubber. A gust of warm air dipped around her, so sudden and violent that her dress billowed. She felt dirt under her feet and the crash barrier on the other side loomed almost from nowhere. She started to vault it but her balance, thrown off by having been a split second from going under the wheels of what she knew now was a trucker’s rig, was off, and she half fell, half stumbled over it, landing painfully on her left leg, her ankle folding under the weight.