The Empty Land (A Hunter Kincaid Novel) - Page 87

“Do it,” the Captain said, “I’ve been chumming out here for a week. They’ll show up fast.” Lucas picked up the first bucket and let the contents trickle into the water, with the gentle current moving it to the snorkelers. The second and third buckets he tossed directly onto the backs of Samir and Crystal.

“Go,” Lucas told the Captain.

Samir and Crystal surfaced in alarm, looking at the blood on and around them, smelling the rotten stench everywhere. Crystal screamed at the boat as it idled away, “Come back! Please!”

A fin broke the surface at the edge of the slick, then another. The sight of them put so much fear in Crystal that she urinated. Samir said, “We have to swim away!” Get out of the blood sli–“

Something jerked him under. Crystal put her face in the water. A very large shark had its jaws clamped on his thigh, and Samir looked like a doll that a child holds by one leg and shakes.

Crystal felt a hard blow, then another and another. Sharks of all sizes swarmed around her, darting in for bites, then swimming away. The water was so red she couldn’t see Samir. She felt sleepy, and the tugs on her didn’t hurt so much any more.

Sofia asked Lucas, “Should we watch to make sure?”

Lucas said, “See all the red? Way more than we dumped. They’re gone.” They sat down and let the Captain take them to shore.

Airline tickets waited for them at the front desk. The flight to Mexico City was short, and Lucas and Sofia were at Colonia La Conception and CISEN Headquarters before 7 PM.

During the debriefing, after Lucas and Sofia gave their report, the Juarez Agent then gave a detailed synopsis of the purported death of Asadullah, including the eye-witness statement from a Border Patrol Agent named Hunter Kincaid, describing the terrorist’s drowning in a flash flood. Lucas ran a hand over his head, but showed no other emotion. I’ll visit her as soon as I finish here, he thought.

The last bit of business was on additional information from the CIA and Interpol, regarding the identification of Asadullah’s ISIS superior, the fast rising leader in the terrorist world, Abdul Wahid Almaud. They had his location.

“Agent Patino,” the Director said, “you will fly to Yemen tonight, be given a cover, and you will locate this man. The sanction is authorized.”

“Tonight?”

“The target moves every four or five days. We cannot wait.”

Lucas waited until he left the building to call Hunter. She did not answer, and he wasn’t sent to voicemail. He tried texting, but was blocked. After another half-dozen tries, he knew it would never happen by phone.

And now he didn’t have time to do it in person. Not for a while, at least. Lucas went to his apartment and packed for the overseas trip. He went to sleep thinking of the assignment, and of Hunter.

Lucas would not return to Mexico for two years.

***

Hunter moped at home for three more days before telling the Patrol Agent in Charge she had to go to work or go crazy. He said, “Take a few weeks vacation, Hunter. Get away from all this for a while. You’ve been through a lot.”

Hunter almost said yes, but couldn’t think of anyplace to go because she would still be alone with her thoughts. Just like here. She said, “I’d like to try working first.”

“Well, your time on RATS isn’t over for another three weeks, so you can start tomorrow, whatever shift you need.”

“Thanks.”

“If you change your mind about taking leave, let me know. We’ll approve it.”

“I will.” She hung up, not sure if she’d made things better or worse.

The next four days were routine, with little results other than assists to local agents in Marfa, Alpine, and Presidio. The fifth day, Hunter knew it was time for the drug smugglers to bring something across, so she went to work before dawn. The marker at Tijeras Arroyo where it crossed Pinto Canyon Road should be the spot, so she hid the Tahoe to wait on foot near the marker.

The sun was half up, looking like a burst egg yolk when three smugglers trudged up the ravine. They reached the road’s edge and put the burlap bundles down.

Hunter stepped out, “Nice morning for a walk.”

The three young men turned to face her. One of them had a single-action pistol in his belt. His hand touched the butt.

Hunter drew and pointed her weapon. “Don’t try it.”

The man froze, but did not move his hand. He said, “There’s just one of you.”

Tags: Billy Kring Thriller
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