Chapter Nineteen
Axe tracked his cell phone on the map, following it north toward the border. Maybe Pablo had been spooked when he discovered the bodies, and he was on the run. He’d like to give his father’s informant the benefit of the doubt, but the fact Pablo refused to give Axe his cell phone meant something else was brewing.
Someone killed Ana and Eduardo—execution style. The three guys who kidnapped Leanna had ample opportunity to do so, especially if Juan lived across the street. It could also have been Pablo, or an unknown party.
Axe pinched his nose, unable to remove the lingering stench of the bodies. It had that sickening fake perfume odor mixed with rot, vomit, and raw sewage. The smell even invaded his throat, lodging deep in his lungs and turning his stomach.
He couldn’t afford to throw up, though.
The pickup’s air conditioner was too weak to cool the cab, and its suspension made the truck weave and bob, shuddering at high speed. As dented as the Oldsmobile was, it drove better and packed more power. His and Leanna’s luggage were inside the Oldsmobile’s trunk, but clothes and sunglasses could be replaced. Lives, not so much.
Axe thought about all the funerals he’d attended. As a child, he hadn’t known what business his father and uncles were in. They’d told him it was security, protection for businesses, and he’d believed they were the good guys.
Once Uncle Dom was gunned down, Axe opened his eyes and realized the “protection” business involved extortion and turf wars. Every transaction, legit and illegal, was under the watchful eye of the various families who “protected” the streets of San Francisco. Every neighborhood and enclave had their associations that stepped in where government was negligent.
The police and city government had failed San Francisco, allowing drug addicts to use the streets as toilets, shoot up drugs in front of schoolchildren, and drive customers away from businesses by their aggressive panhandling. Violent crimes, including murders and drunk driving, had killed tourists and cratered the convention business. And the politicians did nothing but flap their lips. They should be taking care of their own districts, but they’d rather play in the Washington DC soap opera than improve the lives of the people they supposedly represented.
It fell to neighborhood associations to keep their blocks clean. The Chinese protectors kept the homeless and drug addicts out of Chinatown, so tourists could enjoy their stay and spend money. Leanna’s father ensured the success of her bakery by keeping crime down in her vicinity. Same for his family, who watched the area around his nightclub, making it safe for customers to park their cars and go out on a night on the town without getting mugged.
Once Axe discovered the source of his family’s power and influence, he wanted to keep his nose clean. He refused to join the enforcement arm of the family, so his father cut him a deal.
Watch and protect Leanna Rivera, the Cano kingpin’s one-time baby mama in exchange for safety for his baby girl. The entire arrangement was like a chessboard, where each piece was guarded, or a movie where everyone had a gun to everyone else’s head.
Carmelita’s appearance was a loose piece on the board. Whether a hostage or a pawn, she changed everything, and it all depended on how Joshua Cano would play the next move.
Axe noticed the dot on the map stopped in a small town near the US-Mexico border. It wasn’t close to any cities, but in a remote area where the Rio Grande meandered lazily, making curlicues and hairpin turns.
Had Pablo found where Carmelita was stashed? Would he hurt her or help her? What about Leanna? Were the Tres Amigos truly helping her find Carmelita? Or were they taking her across the border to be sex trafficked?
He didn’t want to think about Carmelita in the hands of the cartel traffickers. He’d kill them all if they harmed a hair on her head. Same with if they hurt Leanna or any other woman. Axe was an old-fashioned man, and he still believed in protecting women, not leaving them to their own devices, no matter how mouthy they got.
Swallowing hard with the taste of Ana and Eduardo’s death stuck in his throat, Axe made the turn onto Highway 2 and drove as fast as he could, passing semis and pickup trucks. He passed by large tracts of farmland and the occasional gas station, diner, or junkyard. The terrain was flat and the road was straight, with hardly any curves unless he approached a town, which was usually little more than a crossroads. An occasional tractor slowed down traffic, but Axe kept his eye on the app tracking his cell phone.
It was still in a small town right on the south side of the Rio Grande. Had his phone been abandoned? Or was El Bardo purposely luring him to eliminate him as a witness to Ana and Eduardo’s death?
Axe turned off the highway toward the town, passing a cemetery full of gaudy tombs and mansion-like mausoleums housing the final remains of narco bosses and capos for the cartels. Some of them had air conditioning, Wi-Fi, and other amenities to allow the relatives of the departed to have picnics and parties. The sun-dappled lawns might look serene and peaceful, but Axe had heard of severed heads being placed on spikes over the graves and human entrails used to deface tombstones.
He pressed on the accelerator and zipped by the parking lot packed with limos and expensive cars. He shouldn’t have gawked because he almost crashed into a dirty white van with a broken headlight going fast in the opposite direction. The driver shook his fist at Axe, and Axe gave the asshole the finger, although he couldn’t afford trouble with a van which sported obvious bullet holes.
The flashing lights of police and emergency workers slowed traffic once he entered the center plaza of the dusty town.
Axe viewed the app and saw that his phone was once again on the move. It went east, away from the town toward one of the bends of the Rio Grande.
He backed up and made a U-turn. The roads were blocked by the emergency, so he drove off-road, cutting across a fallow field of dirt. After avoiding ditches and driving through a pasture full of cows, Axe spotted the blue Oldsmobile. He slowed down to not draw attention, but the trail of dust he flung into the air was a dead giveaway.
The Oldsmobile sped up, bouncing up and down on the rutted dirt road. Axe gunned the pickup’s engine which groaned and complained. A Datsun four-cylinder would be no match for the sedan, but Axe was crazier. He swerved and wove, never easing off the gas.
The larger car didn’t handle as well, and it made wide turns, losing ground. Soon, Axe pulled even. The truck pitched so much, thudding and bottoming the shocks, that his teeth chattered.
Pablo was in the driver’s seat, but no one was in the passenger seat. Damn. Had he wasted time chasing a guy who only wanted to get away?
Axe wrenched the steering wheel to the right to force the sedan off the road. Unfortunately, the truck was too light, and it bounced off, heading for a shed. Axe swerved around it, clipping a fence which collapsed.
Gunshots rang out, and bullets ricocheted on the truck body. Axe braked hard, and the pickup fishtailed, skidding and coming to a stop in a cloud of dust.
The Oldsmobile hit its brakes. Axe was out of the pickup and running toward the car in a zigzag pattern. Pablo made a U-turn and came straight at him. That was when he saw Leanna. She was in the back seat, directly behind Pablo who leaned out the window and pointed a gun at Axe.
What happened next was a blur, but Axe jumped behind a spindly bush. The car braked and swerved, crashing into a water trough, and the gun went flying into a ditch.
