“I will help you find your girl,” Arturo said. “We will go in and get her together.”
“Thank you, brother,” Brian said.
“De nada,” Arturo replied.
They both hung up.
The GPS showed no further movement. That could be good. Or bad.
He needed to get there in time, before they did anything worse to Cecelia than they already had.
At the border, he finally reached the check point. There was a line, but at least it was moving faster than the car line, since it was quicker patting a person down than it was looking through a vehicle.
They patted him down, looked at his passport, which he always carried, noted he was a U.S. Marine, and commented on it, and as he was carrying no drugs or weapons, they let him through.
After he was on the other side, he walked to where taxis waited.
He raised his hand and hollered, “Taxi!”
Eager drivers jockeyed for position to get his business, and soon, he was headed down the highway to his meeting with Arturo.
* * *
Cecelia saton the dirt floor in the middle of the room, her arms locked around her bent knees as she rocked and cried. The scents surrounding her were too much. Her nose was sensitive to scent, had been ever since she’d lost her sight and had to rely more upon it. Most of the time, having a heightened sense of smell was a good thing, but here, it was not. The stuff they’d injected into her had completely worn off, so now, she was fully aware of her environment.
No way was she sitting on that nasty mattress, which stunk to high heaven.
God only knows what has happened in this room.
She didn’t even want to think about that, so she pushed the thought away. But from the stink coming off that mattress, she could well imagine. She wasn’t going to touch it for any reason, unless she had to.
Her thumb found the pendant beneath her T-shirt again and she pressed it, hard, as if pressing harder would bring Brian faster.
Please find me. Please, please find me.
She repeated the mantra like a prayer and tried not to think about the possibility that she was too far out of range, where Brian couldn’t find her.
She’d just have to keep pressing it and praying, while hoping those men didn’t find the necklace and take it from her. There was nothing else she could do but pray and wait.
Chapter 8
Arturo was waitingfor Brian with weapons, a bullet proof vest, a shield and helmet…and a fish taco.
Brian would have laughed had he not been so worried about Cecelia. The sight of Arturo with his trunk open, his SWAT weapons displayed, and holding a taco, was kind of funny.
“Brother,” Arturo said, “welcome to Mexico.” He handed him the taco and patted him on the back with the other arm. “You are looking good,amigo, but eat and keep up your strength.”
Before he took a bite of the taco, Brian said, “Is this taco hot, or not hot, my spicy ninja brother?”
Brian had often called Arturo his “spicy ninja brother”, and one of the Marines in their unit had even drawn a cartoon of him and labeled it, “The Spicy Ninja.”
“Try this. It is not hot,” was Arturo’s phrase which had tripped up many men until they’d wised up.
“Not hot” had become code between these two brothers in arms, and it meant the situation might be FUBAR, but Arturo still believed you could handle it.
So now, though it had been several years since the two men had fought together, it all came back as naturally as if they’d been born to it and never left the life. For Brian, that felt really good.
If it wasn’t for the fact that Brian’s girl was in danger, they both would’ve smiled at being back, brothers reunited, fighting together. Instead, both men were focused on rescuing Cecelia.
