Ashton was quiet for several seconds, then responded, “Oh sure, but no one’s seen or heard from him. I’ll let you know when he turns up. Anything else you want me to tell Lincoln?”
“Just that Hiyoki doesn’t have any toys left after this. He should be easy to take down.”
“I’ll tell him.” He hung up abruptly, and Hunter thought Ashton sounded angry.
Buck had opened the cave door and the three boys milled around outside, looking at the fire and destruction.
David said, “Have we got some stories to tell now.”
They hi-fived each other and Oscar said, “Awesome!”
Buck said, “Are you boys hurt at all?”
Lonny said, “We smell like smoke, but that’s it. Not even a paper cut between us.” He grinned, and the others joined him.
Hunter said to Buck, “Can I borrow the Gator?”
“You can if you don’t engage them.”
“I’ll follow the tracks, that’s all. Promise.” He pointed at the small vehicle and Hunter hopped in the driver’s side. In less than a minute she found their tracks and followed them in the Gator, leaning her head out the driver’s side to follow the sign as the Gator crept along at slow speed. The trail eventually lined out for the Rio Grande, and Hunter followed it only far enough to make sure they didn’t change direction. She had no weapon but the little .22 rifle and didn’t want to run into an ambush, so she returned to Buck’s. As she drove, Hunter wondered what Hiyoki was doing at that moment.
Hiyoki was the last one out of the river after swimming the short distance across the Rio Grande. As the three men stood on the Mexico side, dripping wet, he turned his face to the sky and screamed, long and loud.
Chuy glanced at Felix and both men looked uncomfortable as they watched their boss standing there, visibly quivering with anger. When he calmed, Hiyoki said, “We need to get to the compound and make some calls. My phone’s wet, so I’m sure your two are as well.”
“I can get a rifle,” Chuy said, “come back and take out those two at a distance, you want.”
“I have a better idea. I have to call first, then I’ll tell you about it.” He let Chuy lead the way and followed behind him, with Felix bringing up the rear. Every time Hiyoki thought of Hunter Kincaid, he felt as if his head might explode.
The sun had set by the time they arrived at the Osorio compound. Hiyoki entered first, grabbing a fifth of Jack Daniels as he passed through the kitchen and down the hall to the master bedroom, where he retrieved a spare phone from the dresser’s top drawer. He called the first number on speed dial, and before he could say anything, the voice on the other end said, “How can you be so inept? Can you tell me that? You had all the resources to take care of this problem with Kincaid and you couldn’t do it. Hell, you lost half your soldiers and lost all the drones! I should send someone down there to put two rounds in your damn skull!”
Hiyoki blanched on that last statement. He said, “I’m taking care of things, don’t worry. I know the drones are gone, but they did their work at the hunting lodge so we have an open field, we can take over.”
“What about Kincaid?”
“I’ve got one specialized drone left. I’ll use it to take her out. This drone uses night vision and fires bullets. I won’t miss, and when I finish with her, I’ll rebuild our fleet.”
“You’d better be right. I’ve got to take care of your mess up here. Be ready for my call.”
Hiyoki hung up the phone and sat on the side of the bed, feeling numb. He unscrewed the cap off the Jack Daniels and held the cap between his ring and little finger as he turned up the bottle and drank from it, feeling the whiskey burn in his throat and lungs, making his eyes water. He rose and walked into the living room where the two sicarios waited.
He said, “I’ve got a couple of people I’ll send to Marfa to keep watch on Kincaid. They’ll follow her, find out her schedule and where she’s working. A few nights from now we’ll spring our trap. It may even take a week or so, but she is done.”
Chuy said, “What trap is that, boss?”
Hiyoki sat on the couch and motioned for the two men to do the same on the couch across from him. He passed them the bottle, “You’ll like this.” He told them of his plan, and they nodded at his conclusion, their smiles like sharks.
Hunter just started her evening shift, four-to-midnight, when her phone rang. She saw the name, Lincoln Jones, and said, “Hello.”
Lincoln said, “Art is dead. I knew you would want to know.”
Hunter slowed her vehicle and pulled to the side of the road. “What happened?”
“Train crews were checking boxcars on a railroad siding near Slidell, Louisiana. Five boxcars had been separated from a through train and placed there. They found him inside one of them. Art bled to death from a gunshot wound.”
Her mind reeled, Slidell? Art was in El Paso when she talked to him. She said, “Was this today?”
“They found him this morning. He’d been dead for less than twenty-four hours.”