The plan was in place.
They were going to proceed on foot to the location of the alleged base camp. His colleague and the Mexican authorities were going to enter the area through a rarely used dirt road, one of about half a dozen through the hillside. Once they were close to the location, his man was also to signal for air support to make sure the PM members could not leave the area.
That was if everything went according to plan, Bill thought, staring out the window of the cantina where Lopez and Deanna appeared to be ordering up a feast considering how long it was taking. It worried him because the longer they took the more likely it was that the PM members could establish a stronger position at the location. If they got settled and armed before Bill’s people did, it could prove deadly. So far, however, he had not seen Lopez or Diego texting anyone to provide the location of the camp.
He looked at his watch and as he did so, Diego asked, “Something wrong, Mr. Gonzalez?”
“We have a dinner appointment tonight. It’s not until nine, but at this pace we may not make it back in time.”
Diego only shrugged and took another long pull on his cigarette and Bill suspected that the other man knew they might not ever make it back.
When Deanna shot a look at him, he picked up his hand and pointed at his watch, making his concerns obvious. Just to reinforce his role of the harried fiancé, he called out, “Dinner tonight. Remember?”
“I remember,” she shouted in response and leaned forward, said something to the young girl behind the counter at the cantina. With a smile, the woman went into a flurry of action, gathering up a number of items and placing them in a bag that she passed over the counter to Deanna in exchange for a large wad of pesos.
“Finally,” Bill mumbled beneath his breath and Diego chuckled.
“It is never good to rush a woman,
mi
amigo.”
“Except into bed,” Bill replied and a smoke-husky laugh burst from the guide.
Deanna arrived seconds later with the bag, but nothing could keep the aromatic smells from leaching out and perfuming the air around them.
Too bad such amazing food would go to waste.
Bill didn’t fail to miss the worried look Diego and Lopez exchanged before Lopez said, “Why don’t you get your things ready? Diego and I will gather up what we need for the hike.”
The two men walked together to the back of the van, but a too long moment passed before they opened the rear door and even then, only Diego was visible. Bill stretched his arm into the van, ignoring the pain along his ribs as he did so. He tried to get a glimpse of what Lopez was doing, but was unable to do so as he grabbed the straps of the two backpacks and pulled them toward him.
He handed Deanna her knapsack and then jerked his head in the direction of the rear of the vehicle. “Why don’t you get the lunch packed away in here?”
Deanna took her backpack while Bill slung his over his shoulders and headed to the rear of the van. When he rounded the open door, Diego jumped with surprise and Lopez suddenly spurted out from behind the protection of the door on the driver side, one hand tucked behind him.
“Do you need help with anything?” Bill asked, but both men merely shook their heads. Then Diego handed a small bag to Lopez who took it with his visible hand, still keeping the other behind his back.
“We’re almost ready,” Diego replied and then scooped up another satchel, but also some rope as well.
At Bill’s questioning look, the guide replied, “There was a small earthquake several months back. It’s opened up some fissures in the area that we may need to cross.”
Bill nodded and then went back to Deanna’s side. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “Lopez texted them. I’m sure of it.”
“I know, Bill. We’ll be back in time for the dinner,” she said in loud and exasperated tones to warn him of the approach of the other men.
Bill peered over his shoulder at the two. They seemed innocuous enough at the moment, but he could not let his guard down. And they could not delay any longer. His people were already on the way and now that Lopez had most certainly given the location of the camp to his PM cell, they would be heading there also.
“Then I guess it’s time we got going.”
Deanna plodded along the dusty trail, sandwiched between the guide and Lopez in the front and Bill taking up the rear. The familiar weight of her pack, filled with her first aid kit and other essentials, comforted her as did the slight ridge beneath one strap—the GPS device Bill had installed.
She had slathered her face with a high SPF lotion earlier that morning and donned a broad-brimmed hat from her pack, but it did little to dispel the midday heat from the rays of the sun beating down on them. Even though she wore a tank top and a sleeveless utility vest, sweat trickled down the middle of her back and pooled at the base of her spine. Drenched the waistband of her pants, which rubbed against the skin beneath.
She lost her footing once on a treacherous slope littered with bits of rock and loose soil, evidence of the recent quake in the area. But before she fell, Bill was there, gently grasping her arm to offer support. His skin hot and damp against hers. As she peered at him, he offered a brief, comforting grin.
His skin glistened with sweat and the baseball cap he had donned—a beat-up Mets one with frayed edges that testified to its age—had done nothing to block the worst of the sun. His skin was already growing red in spots.
“You should put on more lotion,” she said and gently ran her hand along the shadowed roughness of the beard beginning to emerge along his cheeks.
“When we reach your mom,” he replied and they continued on, their pace steady while they traveled the remaining mile to the location. The ground beneath their feet was hard as rock and their steps kicked up motes of dust in the arid landscaping. The hillside was dotted with low-growing piñon pine and an assortment of cacti, some in bloom, but Deanna really couldn’t appreciate the sights along the trail. She was too filled with anxiety about what would happen when they arrived at their location.
So she plodded on, occasionally taking a look back at Bill, but if he had any concerns, they weren’t evident on his face. When their gazes connected, he’d offer her a reassuring smile, trying to keep her calm. Trying to keep her mind from the inevitable meeting with her mother.
Miranda had been blindfolded and gagged, her hands tied behind her back as soon as she was pulled from the room, keeping her in the dark about where they were going. All she knew was that they had herded her to some kind of vehicle. Something trucky given the less than smooth ride along the roadways.
She had not known the location of where she was being held captive, but had guessed that it was somewhere in the Mexico City limits. Given Javier’s comment that they were going to meet Deanna, she assumed it would take a few hours to reach the location.
She assumed correctly. They traveled along the roads for a couple of hours before turning off onto a bumpier roadway. When the vehicle lurched from side to side and bounced hard enough to jar her teeth together, she tried to stabilize herself without the use of her hands. It was a losing battle. She was tossed against the men on either side of her, who sometimes responded with a sharp elbow as punishment.
The longer they were on the road the more the heat grew as the sun beat down on them. The dust the vehicle kicked up clogged her nose, making it difficult to breathe thanks to the gag in her mouth.
Finally the vehicle came to a halt and with a sharp pull, someone yanked off the blindfold and removed the gag, allowing her to suck in a breath of clean fresh air. Then another man pulled out a wicked-looking eight-inch knife which glinted silver-blue in the summer sun. With a sneer, he brought the knife directly above her heart, but then he moved behind her swiftly and cut loose the ties binding her hands.
Javier jumped from a second vehicle several feet away and swaggered back to where she sat. When he arrived at her side, he raised his hand and offered her his assistance from the 4x4.
“Where are we?” she asked, trying to orient herself along the hillside. The Jeeps were parked beside some large outcroppings of rock for cover and while they looked familiar, the spot was a distance away from the mouth of the arroyo which led to the entrance to Montezuma’s burial site.
“Come now, Miranda. Isn’t it a little too late to play this game?” Javier warned, obviously believing that they were at the location where she’d had one of her base camps.
“Aren’t you the one playing games, Javier?” Miranda asked, pulling back her shoulders as she perused the landscape again, searching not only for other signs to place the location, but for a glimpse of her daughter.
Javier laughed and shook his head. “You don’t believe that your daughter is on the way?”
“Why would she be? We haven’t had a relationship in years,” she said and stared up the hillside as a speck of something came over the ridge. She focused on that area, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. Her heart racing as the specks sharpened and she realized it was four people, including a woman.
Deanna,
she thought, hoping that their reunion would not be fleeting.
Deanna wasn’t sure what to expect when they came around the sharp edge of the ridge trail on which they had been traveling. She stopped to peer down the hillside to where two 4x4s were parked by some large rocks. The vehicles were filled with people which she knew wasn’t a good thing as Bill laid a hand on her waist to hold her back.
As Lopez and Diego faced them, wondering why Bill had stopped, she glanced at him. She met his gaze and instinctively knew what he wanted—to create delay to allow the cavalry to arrive.
“Are you ready to meet your mother,
mi amor
?” He cradled her cheek and the pad of his thumb was slick along her moist skin.
“I’m not sure, Bill. It’s been so long. I don’t know what I’ll say to Miranda,” she said and it wasn’t so far removed from the truth.
“You cannot mean to turn back now after we’ve come such a distance,” Lopez said, wiping his brow with a glaringly white handkerchief that he made a point to wave more than once.
A sign?
Deanna wondered, but Bill spoke up before she could answer.
“Do not rush her now, Dr. Lopez. It’s been fourteen years since she’s seen her mother. Surely a few more minutes won’t hurt.”
She faced Bill exclusively, needing to read his face for confirmation of what to do. But when she did so, it was evident they had little choice and even with that, determination filled his gaze.
“I’ll be okay,” she replied and pushed onto her toes, kissed him hard.
He wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her close for just a second and the kiss, although brief, was filled with a fierce promise.
They would survive this.
Lacing her fingers with his, she turned and faced the other two men.
“I’m ready.”
Miranda watched the quartet hurry down the hillside. Three men and a woman. Deanna.
Even with the distance and years separating them Miranda recognized her daughter. There was something in the walk and in the bounce of chestnut hair visible beneath the brim of the hat. It brought back memories of that hair bound with a bright pink ribbon, bobbing up and down as a five-year-old Deanna walked beside her.
Deanna had come, she thought again, but not as Miranda had either imagined or wished.
She had already sacrificed her daughter once in her pursuit of Montezuma’s tomb. She would do whatever it took to keep her from suffering anymore.
Easing up on her toes, she raised her hand, wanting to warn Deanna, but Javier yanked her back forcefully. Every bone in her body rattled with the impact and awoke the countless aches and pains from the torture that had been inflicted on her in the course of the last two or so weeks. She didn’t know exactly how long it had been, since she had shut herself down at times to try and ignore the pain.
“Any word, any action and I’ll instruct my men to kill her, Miranda,” warned Javier.
“She doesn’t know anything,” Miranda pleaded.
A harsh laugh escaped Javier and he chided her with a shake of his head. “Then why is she here? At your base camp?”
He swiveled his head around at the barren hillside, his gaze suddenly doubtful. “Although I don’t see a camp. Do you?”
Miranda didn’t know if whoever had given PM this location had intentionally brought them to the wrong place. She hoped so. Maybe that would keep them alive a little longer until help could arrive. But as the quartet neared and she caught a glimpse of the man behind Deanna, it occurred to her he just might be the cavalry. His keen-eyed gaze and the preparedness in every line of his body communicated that he was not your average Joe.
What shocked her more was the possessive way he laid a hand on Deanna’s shoulder and her daughter reached up, passed her hand across his lovingly.
They were involved. That only complicated things.
“Move away from the car slowly and stand by me with a smile,” Javier commanded.
Miranda didn’t hesitate, well aware of the reward for disobedience, but even more concerned about what they might do to Deanna and her lover if she did not comply.
Forcing a smile to her face, she stepped away from the vehicle and to where Javier stood, waiting for her daughter.
Deanna and her lover were now no more than about twenty feet away and heading straight for where Miranda lingered. The sun was streaming down from behind them, hiding Deanna’s face in shadow beneath the brim of her hat.
She had to see her, Miranda thought and moved forward, ignoring Javier’s sharply worded, “Where are you going?”
Deanna likewise walked forward faster than her companions, breaking from them until she was only an arm’s length away from her mother. She swept the hat off her head then, revealing her face.
It was like staring at a younger version of herself, although Deanna’s hair was dark like her father’s and her eyes were a gorgeous blend of Gonzalo’s hazel and her own green.
So beautiful,
she thought, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from speaking, afraid that even a breath would shatter the moment. Or that the wrong word might break a heart.
Her heart, she thought as Deanna finally spoke.
“Hello, Miranda.”