As I knew better than to interrupt, I stood quiet and let him work. Energy tingled in the air all around him, like a localized static electricity storm. Touching him at this moment would render a shock on the wrong side of painful.
The Ortizes acknowledged me with eye contact, but they too found themselves rapt in the face of Chance’s gift. Jesse simply gazed at me in silence, unsmiling. I suppose he had wanted to talk about things this morning, but if I wouldn’t with Chance, it didn’t seem fair to change the rules for Saldana.
I leaned in for a better look and found what looked like a roster of properties owned by Montoya. Go, Esteban! Chance went down the list, striking off five more locations with the pen in his left hand. The thirteenth, however—
“This is it,” he said, tapping the page. “He’s taken her there. I’m sure of it.”
We finally had a location. With his pet warlock dead, Montoya would have lost all ability to block Chance’s talent.
“I need to make some calls,” Chuch said. “Lay hands on stuff I don’t have in stock. I should be set within a few hours, though.”
Saldana didn’t say a word. He’d either silenced the cop part of himself, or he no longer cared about the law that had let him down so profoundly with his partner. I couldn’t worry about anyone but Min right now.
As part of my preparation, I wet my hair, braided it tightly, and then pinned the braids up. I couldn’t do anything about the color on such short notice, not that I wanted to. I liked being a redhead. With a sigh, I peered into my jumbled laundry and decided on black: black jeans, black hoodie, sturdy black shoes. It was the best I could do.
By midnight we had all the cards in play. Chuch had rounded up the last of his supplies and Booke agreed to scout for us. It was time.
I freshened Butch’s water, let him out in the yard, and then pushed him inside the front door. He stared at me with big, mournful eyes, but I didn’t think he’d be an asset to the mission. Then again, I might not be either.
“Sorry, bud,” I said. “Not this time. Wish us luck?”
He yapped once.
Good thing—we’d need it.
Montoya’s Mountain
We crossed the border in Jesse’s Forester. It made sense since we numbered six, plus all the gear. I huddled down in the back since I didn’t have a passport. If I lived through this, I’d have Eva cook me one. Luckily, Jesse being a cop meant they didn’t look too hard at any of us. Once we passed the second checkpoint, I sat up, uncovered my head, and leaned up against a duffel bag.
Nobody spoke much on the ride in, and I didn’t blame them. So many things could go wrong out here. Montoya might burn our bodies in a giant pile and nobody would ever know the difference. My nerves vibrated like violin strings.
The dashboard clock showed nearly two a.m. by the time we neared our destination. Early morning in Great Britain. I rang Booke.
The man really didn’t sleep. He sounded alert and eager when he answered. “I’ve had a chance to check out the location. I neutralized a few minor wards for you, but the man appears to rely on strength of arms and manpower for protection. I’m afraid you’ll have quite a fight on your hands when you get in there. There’s only one way up or down the mountain, unless you fly out.”
“What else can you tell me about the way up?”
“Five kilometers on, there’s a plateau where you’ll have to leave the vehicle and proceed on foot.”
That did it. When I got back to Mexico City, I was joining a gym.
Booke paused. “You will be careful, won’t you, Corine?”
“As much as I can,” I hedged.
“That’s all I could ask then.”
“Anything else you can tell me about the place?”
“Yes, actually.”
Dutifully I relayed Booke’s summary: gated entry, two sentries, more in the courtyard. Montoya’s hideaway resembled a Spanish-style hacienda with breezeways and open courtyards. Regular patrols in the corridors.
When I’d finished, he murmured, “Call me when it’s over?”
That too depended on the outcome, but it didn’t hurt to accede. I disconnected and put my phone away, rose up on my knees to peer out the back window. Out here there were no lights, just an endlessly dark sky and the shadow of the mountains in the distance.
The Forester shuddered as we left the highway and took the dirt road. We slowed because it was rough, and we didn’t want to break an axle. Hiking would take us all night. Jesse drove with both hands on the wheel, his expression grim. I caught myself studying him. What was he to me? Mentor? Friend?
“Glad we did some recon,” Chuch muttered.
“We will be fine,” Kel said calmly. “This is a holy cause.”
What do you say to that, really? Everyone sat in silence until Eva pointed to a slight widening in the mountain road. “That must be it.”
Well, it wasn’t what I’d call a plateau, but we climbed out of the Forester and divvied up the gear. We hiked upward in single file, careful not to speak above a whisper. The air felt thin and cold.
By the time the gate came into view, I breathed shallowly so as not to give away how much I wanted to huff and puff. Since I was the only panda among long, lean wolves, I didn’t want them knowing how out of shape I was.
To my surprise Chuch took charge. His hair bound back with a navy bandana, he seemed utterly at home. Maybe he’d led forces in Nicaragua too. At this point nothing could surprise me. “We need to get somebody inside quietly, someone who can kill in silence and open the gate for us without setting off any alarms.”
“That would be Kel,” I said at once.
God’s Hand drew his slender silver knife. “Watch the doors.”
The shadows took him. That’s the only way I can describe it, because one moment he stood there with us, and one moment he was gone. Eva shivered. “I think maybe el Señor did send him, but Dios, does he have to be so creepy?”
No more than five minutes passed before the huge iron doors swung open. We didn’t see Kel anywhere but that had to be our cue. Staying low, we clung to the walls and slunk inside, where we found him manning the sentry station. Kel pushed a button and the gate closed behind us while he wiped his knife clean against his pant leg.
“Good,” Jesse said. “No point in alerting them.”
Booke had said there were more guards in the courtyard but I didn’t see any. Chuch followed my gaze around the tiled square. Only the fountain broke the silence. “Did you kill them all, primo?”
Expressionless, Kel asked, “Would you like me to?”
Before Chuch could answer, a shout went up from a man on one of the balconies. Shit, we’d been spotted. As he dove wide, pulling me with him, Saldana called, “Get down!”
Bullets bit into the ground where we’d been standing. With a wide smile, Chuch took cover behind a marble statue and returned fire in short, controlled bursts. One of the guys fell, striking the tiles with a heavy sound. Eva crawled to her husband’s side and produced a slender, short-barreled weapon like she knew what to do with it. When she shot the next guy cleanly between the eyes, she proved she did.
“No joke, you can handle yourself,” I muttered.
I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. The best I could do with an automatic weapon was lay down cover, and after watching me fire at some cans in the field behind Chuch’s house, they’d decided I shouldn’t have a gun because I might hit our people with friendly fire.
The last of the guards fell with a gurgling cry. “We go room to room,” Chance shouted. “Kill anything that fires on you. Use the radio only if you find Min.”
He loped off in a crouching run. Though it shouldn’t have hurt for him to leave me behind, it did, perhaps because it seemed so symbolic. I knew better than anyone that his luck might get me killed in a situation like this. Ironic—he could best safeguard me by staying away from me.
Eva and Chuch reloaded and made their way more carefully in another direction. Kel was already gone again in search of more sinners to punish. Jesse grabbed my hand and hauled me toward the east doors that led from the courtyard to the first floor of the house.
“You’re with me. I’m supposed to be watching out for you.” Saldana managed a smile. “That whole mentor thing.”
Between gunfire and sparking lights, I couldn’t tell where everyone else had gone anymore. I wasn’t sure splitting up was the best idea, but we weren’t fighting an army on a unified front. My heart beat like a kettledrum as I followed Jesse around the corner.
He’d traded his police-issue weapon for a heavy Colt .45. The gun shone in Jesse’s hand, big and heavy enough to kill someone if he coldcocked him. I’d tucked an emergency grenade into my gear, which consisted of a Maglite and some bottled water. They didn’t think highly of my martial skills, and rightfully so. I wouldn’t chuck my grenade unless we needed something blown up, though. Like zombies. Or a wall.
The moment we slipped into the house, we came across two more guards heading for the courtyard at a run. I guessed they didn’t know we were already inside. I dove behind an ornate, expensive sofa, and Saldana fired twice, the weapon thundering in the enclosed space. They both went down before they had fully registered our presence.
“Holy shit,” I said, clambering to my feet.
His smile came a little easier that time. “Top of my class, marksmanship. Usually it’s a paper guy that I shoot through the head, but same principle.”
From other corners of the house I heard screams of pain, Chuch shouting in Spanish, and the staccato report of automatic weapons. Pausing by a window while Jesse scouted ahead, I caught a glimpse of Chance slipping through an open doorway across the courtyard, gun blazing. Then I remembered it was stupid to stand in front of a window at a time like this and dove around the corner.
“We should move along, see if we can find Min,” I said. “Sounds like the others are cleaning house.”
“You’ve got some scary friends, Corine.”
If I hadn’t been so nervous I would have laughed. He didn’t know the half of it. Inside the house, someone screamed in pain.
Jesse shot three more guys and nearly took a bullet himself as we fought our way up the stairs. I tried to stay out of the way, but I did whack one with my flashlight as he stumbled past Saldana. He staggered and Jesse lashed out with a neat kick that sent him spinning over the railing. At the halfway point up the stairway, the lights showered sparks and gave out entirely. Finally, there was something I could do.
I turned my Maglite on. “Better?”
“Much.”
The house had a strange, spooky air, the dark split only by my yellow beam. I heard staccato gunfire in the distance and screams that were often cut off abruptly. Around each turn I never knew what we’d find: bad guys, our crew, or nothing at all.
“Booke said the only other way off this mountain was to fly,” Jesse whispered. “So he’ll have a chopper somewhere on grounds and maybe a panic room. We should be looking for both.”
