Ashton said, “That would be fine, and thank you, Hunter, that’s from all of us.”
Hunter looked at Lincoln, then Ashton before saying, “If you don’t need me for anything else, I will need a ride to my hotel.”
Art said, “I’ll drop you off.” They left together, and as Art dropped off Hunter, he said, “Remind me never to get on your bad side. See you on down the road.” Hunter smiled at him and waved as he drove away before going to her room to get out of the dress and pack. She thought that Buck would be the one to talk to on this, if for no other reason than he seemed to have Lincoln’s ear and would know as much about the assignment as anyone. So, go home and pack, and then get down to Buck’s ranch, if she could find the gate.
Buck had nailed a Lone Star beer can on top of the gatepost to mark the entrance to his ranch. Hunter spotted it and turned onto the rough unpaved road, passing through greasewood and cactus flats for a mile before the road snaked through small, rocky hills that contained various shades of color on the rocks, from black to red to orange to a smoky gray, and patches of spidery ocotillo showing the bright red blossoms at the tips, indicators of recent rains.
The ranch house rested in a ten-acre flat area, complete with windmill, horse trough, corrals, and a small garden near the windmill. There was equipment in an open-faced, sixty-foot long pole barn, including a John Deere tractor and an old, well-used bulldozer painted green, with rusty places showing like freckles. An overhead gas tank that worked by gravity flow was near the pole barn, with its hose hooked on a piece of bailing wire wrapped around one strut. The house was both wood and adobe, with parts of the white plaster gone to reveal the earthen bricks underneath.
Buck sat on the porch, chair tilted back so it rested against the wall, and the porch shaded under a long, twelve-foot wide roof that ran the length of the house. He watched Hunter park before he stood. “Have any trouble finding it?”
“Not a bit.”
“Art’s not here, said he’ll be out later. You want something to drink?”
“I’d take some ice tea if you have any.”
“What I’m drinking right now. I made it sweet, is that okay?”
“You bet.”
Buck pointed her to a chair and went inside, returning with a mason jar filled with ice cubes and golden tea. “It’s sun tea,” he said.
She sipped, nodded, and leaned the back of her chair against the adobe wall so the front legs were in the air. They could see Mexico’s looming mountains from the porch. The mountains never looked ominous before, but today they did.
Buck said, “I’ve got two mountain bikes for you to use. Makes the going a little faster and easier, but still quiet.”
“You didn’t buy them, did you?”
He shook his head. “Lincoln had Ashton Dean deliver them.”
“All the way here?”
“All the way.?
??
“I hope he enjoyed the ride.”
“Didn’t seem to bother him. I guess it all pays the same.”
They watched a plume of pale dust coming down the ranch road from the highway. “Art, I figure.” Buck said.
It was. Art parked his Buick beside Hunter’s pickup and walked to the porch. Buck had an ice tea waiting for him.
Art took several sips and settled in his chair, tipped back like the others. “I talked some more with CISEN and my bosses in DC about this. We had a big teleconference.”
“And?”
“For now, Mexico will observe at a distance. It’s touchy, letting us work in their country, but if we don’t take too long and can get in and out, they’ll stay clear. Think plausible deniability.”
“What about weapons?” Hunter asked.
“If we carry, we’re in violation of their laws and can go to jail if we’re caught.”
“If.”
“I think we have to play it that way. Just take something you can throw away if the law shows up.”