Part 6 (1/2)
”All right,” she said.
Nathan knelt next to the mattress and put a hand on her shoulder. Her hair was a tangled, matted mess, her face caked in dust, but he didn't care. He leaned over and kissed her dried lips, tasting the desert grime.
She held him close for a long moment. ”I love you,” she whispered, letting go.
”I love you, too. I'm going to poke around and check on things.”
”Can you start by finding us a bathroom and something to eat?” said Keira.
”Of course.”
”And I could use some coffee.”
Nathan nodded at the gallon jugs of water next to the mattress. ”I wouldn't get your hopes up.”
”We had some coffee in our packs. What happened to those? Once they put hoods over our heads, I lost track of everything except Owen.”
”The backpacks made it into the SUVs. That's about all I know. How's he doing?”
”Nightmares,” she said. ”He was burrowed into me all night. Kicking and twitching.”
He nodded, not finding the words to express his regret for inadvertently putting Owen through this disaster. Standing up and stretching his arms, he found the ceiling a lot lower than it had looked from the mattress. His head cleared the wooden beams by only a few inches. He was accustomed to the three or four feet of clearance in their house; even the bedroom hallway gave him plenty of s.p.a.ce. Not that they'd ever see it again. Their house in California felt as far away as the house in Tucson. Everything behind him felt inaccessible. Wiped clean by Cerberus.
He put on his boots and opened the door to the hallway, which was just as cramped. A different guard rose from the chair outside their room. The thick-bearded, pale-skinned man in his early twenties was dressed in khaki cargo pants, brown hiking boots, and a desert camouflage tactical vest over an olive-drab T-s.h.i.+rt. A worn, curved-rim ball cap and tricked-out a.s.sault rifle complemented the paramilitary look. Unfortunately, the gear did little to camouflage the fact that the guy underneath it all looked like he might be far more comfortable studying a laptop screen and sipping a latte at Starbucks than fighting an insurgency. Nathan leaned back into the room.
”You're in good hands,” he said, winking at Keira.
When he stepped back into the hall, the young man extended a hand. ”Jeff,” he said.
Nathan accepted his handshake, noticing their backpacks stacked against the wall next to the door.
”Nathan,” he said, letting go of Jeff's hand.
”I know. Everybody knows.”
He regarded the man warily. Exactly what did everybody know about him? Enough to convince the Mexican army to loan the CLM a parachute a.s.sault force. f.u.c.k. Keira was right. They needed to get as far away from here as possible-even if it meant spending every last dollar in his pocket on the next taxi available. If the town still had taxis. He picked up the two backpacks, sliding them onto his aching shoulders.
”Everything from the vehicles is here,” said the man.
”Except two rifles and three helmets.”
”That's all they brought by this morning,” Jeff said apologetically.
”And where is here, exactly?”
Jeff looked uncomfortable with the question.
”Let me guess. Cla.s.sified?”
”Sorry. My instructions are to send you that way”-he pointed to Nathan's left-”once you're up and about. I'm sure they'll answer all of your questions.”
Nathan peered down the dark, dirt-walled hallway toward a closed door. A compact camera attached to one of the exposed wood ceiling beams pointed in their direction. Nathan waved at the camera before taking in the rest of the area. The opposite end of the pa.s.sageway appeared to consist of a wall of hard-packed dirt. Their room was the only one in the corridor. He suddenly felt very claustrophobic.
”So,” said Nathan, ”there a lot of dead ends down here?”
Jeff nodded. ”The previous owners didn't complete all their tunnels.”
He didn't need to ask who might need to build an extensive network of tunnels underground in Mexicali. He knew the answer, and it was one more reason why they needed to get away from this place.
Nathan picked up their backpacks and slipped back into the room with them.
”What?” Keira said, rising onto one elbow.
He dropped the backpacks onto the dusty floor at the foot of the mattresses and knelt next to her. ”I have our packs,” he whispered. ”I think we should wear our boots and gear at all times while we're down here. I'm pretty sure this is a former drug cartel hideout. We might have to leave very quickly.”
She sat up all the way. ”Are you serious? We need to get the h.e.l.l out of here, right now. I can't believe he brought us here.”
”I know. I know,” he said, putting his hands up defensively. ”But we can't just walk up onto the streets. We don't know the situation up there. Give me a little time to figure it out-and get David on board. We can't leave without him.”
”I almost forgot about him. Jesus,” she said, shaking her head.
”I'll try to find him first. See what he wants to do.”
”He won't want to do much, but you have to convince him to leave with us immediately.”
”He'll want to bury Alison,” said Nathan. ”Or make some kind of arrangements to s.h.i.+p her body north.”
”I'm grateful for everything he's done, and I can't even wrap my head around Alison's death-this place can't be a secret. Not if the cartel used it at some point.”
”I can't pressure him after what happened,” said Nathan. ”I don't think we'd get very far without him.”
”Then you need to be convincing. I'd like to be as far away as possible when Cerberus comes knocking. We're completely trapped down here.”
”I agree,” he said, kissing her forehead.
CHAPTER 10.
Jose Guerrero stared at the wide, flat-screen monitor on his desk, studying the flow of reports filed by his paid contacts throughout Mexicali. He knew their time here was limited after last night's rescue. CLM's relations.h.i.+p with the governing cartel was based on money, and despite the significant amount of cash spent on maintaining the relations.h.i.+p and paying lookouts, the One Nation Coalition had far deeper pockets. It wasn't a matter of if the cartel gave them up; it was a matter of when. He just hoped the contract with CLM was lucrative enough to buy at least a little time before the cartel flipped on them.
He'd give the final evacuation order later this afternoon. By sunrise tomorrow, the CLM's southern hub would go quiet for the first time in three years. Before that, he wanted Nathan Fisher and his resourceful friend, David, to get a solid feel for the scope and complexity of CLM's efforts. They had to see the bigger picture, from ground zero. Had to see that the CLM stood in a position to better the lives of millions of people across several states and Mexico-and that real people had given up everything to be a part of this.
He'd intended to fully brief them in Cabo, but a colonel in the Mexican army had decided to declare war on a rogue criminal element in Estacin Coahuila, effectively sealing off the roads leading south. Bringing them here had been a risky move. He could have tried to reroute the entire escape farther west, into the Baja Peninsula, but changing the plan at such a late hour carried too much risk. Maybe this would work out better, allowing Jose to make his desperate pitch at the source-CLM's southern headquarters.
When he stood up from examining the reports, satisfied that nothing appeared out of order, an unfamiliar face near the southern corridor drew his attention. It was Nathan Fisher, rubbing his chin, taking in the operations center with a neutral look. Jose had hoped he might look a little more impressed. This was going to be a very tough sell indeed.