The Presa Tarahumara was a small lake made by the little dam across the Rio Conchos, and the road across it left an easy, and little used way to cross the river in a vehicle. Holland drove across and ignored several waves by fishermen as he continued south, then east of Ojinaga.
He circled Ojinaga to approach it from the downriver side. One area, in the lowlands nearer the Rio Grande, had a dozen or so abandoned adobe buildings and houses in various levels of disrepair. He examined them and found two, side by side, that would work. One had an entire wall down, but the sagging roof was there. He parked the pickup inside it.
The second adobe was intact, except for several long cracks in the walls showing foundational problems that would, in the coming years, bring it down. The floors were dusty but level, and the living room had a small fireplace he could use for cooking, as soon as he obtained some supplies.
Meanwhile, he would bide his time, let his hair and beard grow, obtain different clothes and some hair dye, eyeglasses, and other items that would disguise his appearance. Then he would set about paying them all back.
Some personally, like the Female Border Patrol Agent, and the new Sheriff.
Riffey, that sniveling traitor, would get his, as would the old rancher, Sam Kinney, and his Mexican friend. Many others, too, would feel his wrath; many, many others.
He thought of a line from a movie he once saw. Conan, he believed, where the villain, Thulsa Doom said, “Crucify him on the Tree of Woe.” That is what he would do to the people of Presidio, Texas. They would writhe in agony on the Tree of Woe. And he would do it to them in the harshest way possible.
CHAPTER 8
The Chlorine tanker incident’s aftermath was a conglomeration of well wishers, second-guessers, advocates and critics on the way things were handled in Presidio and Ojinaga.
The Presidio County Medical Clinic was overwhelmed with people claiming eye, skin, and respiration problems, and everyone blaming the chlorine gas. Although Ojinaga’s situation was less so, the clinicas and Doctor’s offices were also filled to overflowing.
Local fire department/EMS first responders joined the police department to cordon off the packing shed and wait for the state HAZMAT crews to arrive. FBI was also on the way, coming in six teams, with one going to Marfa and the other five to Presidio.
Lucas called Hunter, saying Mexico’s state, local and federal authorities were in an all-out search for Holland/Asadullah, Samir, and Crystal, now that they had further identification of the three, thanks to her information.
Hunter asked if he could send the info to her in an email. “You bet,” Lucas said. “How are you? That was a close call, what you and the Sheriff did.”
She moved to the edge of the crowd waiting to hear from the Sheriff. “Way too close.”
“You can tell me about it when you’re ready. Right now, you should go crash for a while.”
Hunter said, “I will, and maybe we can get together soon?”
“I’d like that.”
Hunter said, “I didn’t hear you mention Guereca in your APB, did you catch him?”
Lucas hesitated, “Nah, seems like somebody else got to him first.”
“Who
?”
“Either the Sinaloa Cartel, or the Zetas.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He was into drug smuggling with both cartels, playing one side against the other, and he was shot with three rounds, five-sevens, all head shots.”
Hunter said, “That’s the round for the FN semi-auto?”
“It is. The favorite handgun of the sicarios, the Cartel assassins.” Lucas steered around a stalled car as he thought about what to say to divert Hunter’s thoughts to another direction. He said, “Go get some rest. Call me when you’re ready for a beer and some food.”
“I will.” She was glad he didn’t ask her to tell what happened, because she wasn’t sure she had enough energy left to talk.
The townspeople crowded around her, wanting to touch her, to pat her, and talk of what happened. They shook her hand until she thought it would fall off. When Hunter finally had a chance to slip to the edge of the crowd, she waved at Danny, who nodded he understood, then she eased to her vehicle.
As soon as she could get through the heavy traffic, Hunter drove to the Presidio Border Patrol station and asked them if she could use the showers. While she was under the spray, one of the female agents, Monica Verdugo, came in and put down fresh clothes for her. Monica yelled into the shower before she left, “These may be a little big on you!”
Hunter said, “Thanks!” When she dried off and put on the soft, gray cotton sweatpants and matching tee shirt, she felt better. Tired and drained, but better. As she left the locker room, every Agent in the station was there. Monica started a slow, methodical clap, and the others joined her, then the clapping grew faster and faster until, as if on command, everyone stopped clapping and crowded closer for handshakes and hugs.