“He is, isn’t he?”

The waitress smiled at her, “Good chemistry between you two.” She swung her small towel and walked to another table to take their order.

Hunter left the restaurant and felt like skipping. She drove through town and decided to take the Casa Piedra Road back to Marfa.

She saw no markers for pickup points along the gravel portion of the road, but there was one after the gravel road joined with the pavement of Ranch Road 169. A small, foot-high cairn of stones stood on the road’s shoulder. Parking beyond it, Hunter checked the area. There was some sign, but nothing made last night. She marked it with her iPhone GPS, and added it to the list of others she regularly reported and checked.

This location was a place that indicated the smugglers were also using GPS. There were no draws close to the road for people to hide in while waiting for the smuggler’s vehicle to arrive. The guide used GPS to lead them across the terrain to this point. She crossed the ranch fence and looked around some more, making a wider circle around the pile of stones.

She saw the faint imprint of a rifle butt in the dirt near a patch of prickly pear. Taking her time, Hunter found two different sets of tracks and took photos of them. Near the footprints was a book-sized impression she could tell was made by burlap. They were carrying drugs in burlap sacks to this point, and someone sat their sack down right here. No wonder they used GPS. She made more notes on her phone, then walked toward the car.

When she pushed down the top strand of barbed wire on the fence and swung her leg to the other side, a barb caught in the inseam and ripped her pants. She pushed harder on the wire to lower it further, then brought her other leg over the fence. Bending over to see the damage, she saw a rip in the shape of an L, with the flap hanging down and her underwear visible at the crotch. “Just great,” she muttered. But it didn’t catch her skin, so there was that. She sighed, got in her vehicle and drove towards Marfa.

She never saw the man lying prone two hundred yards away, hidden behind a sotol bush, watching through the scope on his rifle. When she was out of sight, he told the four men with him to pick up their bundles and follow him. He made a call on his phone and soon saw the van coming toward their position at the cairn of stones. When he hopped in the front seat, he told the driver, “That damn female Border Patrol Agent almost caught us again.”

The driver said, “That’s three times in a month. She keeps coming this close, she’s gonna get you one of these times.”

“Well, it may just be time to take care of the problem. We have too many more loads to bring in, you know? We’re in a tough business, and we have to use tough measures.”

“Yeah, but killing her…I don’t know if that is a good idea.”

“Maybe. I’ll think about it while you drive. You have all the ranch gate keys?”

The driver jingled a loop that must have had a hundred keys on it. “Right here. We’re good to go, all the way.”

The gunman looked at his four drug mules in the back of the van. They looked tired, but ready to go again if need be. He said, “Muy bien, hombres. Ustedes han ganado un monton de dinero hoy.”

The four men liked the sound of that, and began talking among themselves about what they would do with the money. The smuggler relaxed in the passenger seat and let his mind drift. He thought about the female Border Patrol Agent

and how she looked so good, so shapely even in that uniform. He wondered what it would be like to shoot a woman like that.

***

Hunter drove to her house and changed pants before driving to the office. She heard the election news as soon as she walked inside the Marfa Station. Danny Montoya was officially declared the new Sheriff, and votes were still coming in. “Won by a landslide, like eighty-five, ninety percent of the votes,” Roy Dell told her.

“He deserved to win,” Hunter said. The other Agents stopped what they were doing and looked at her. Hunter noticed the quiet and looked up to see everyone staring. Putting her hands up in surrender, she said, “Okay, okay. I have been known to be wrong occasionally about people, and this is one of those rare times. I’m big enough to admit it.” The other agents catcalled and hooted at her in fun, and she took it with a grin. She finished her paperwork and reports, then drove home in the dark.

She ate a cold piece of fried chicken and drank a Dos Equis beer while she stood in the kitchen, then went upstairs, took a shower and climbed into bed. She turned on the laptop and checked her emails. One was from Lucas. Really good to see you today. Can’t wait for tomorrow. After checking the others, Hunter put the computer on the table and grabbed the new novel that her friend, Scott Montgomery sent her from Austin. She fell asleep with the book on her chest and the tiniest hint of a smile on her face.

***

At 2AM, Asadullah turned off the television and thought about what he had seen on the news channels. Blessed Allah caused these new events to happen for his faithful warrior. He stepped to the couch, woke up Riffey and used a pair of rusted wire cutters to snip the man’s extension cord bonds. “Time to go,” he said.

Riffey couldn’t feel his legs or feet and fell when he tried to stand. He said, “No circulation, but I’ll be up in a second, and I’ll get you across.”

He could also smell the dried urine reek on his crotch where he’d been forced to pee in his pants, and the dried urine irritated his skin so that it was tender, almost raw.

At first Riffey didn’t think that peeing in his pants would be difficult, but man, it was. Mentally, he shut down his bladder every time he tried to void, and it was like an internal battle to force himself to allow his own body to pee. When he finally urinated the first time, his eyes watered. After the first time it was not as hard to do.

He wiggled his legs to get the blood going, then used his hands. Rubbing the legs and feet made his limbs tingle like ten thousand needles sticking them. The bottoms of his feet were the worst, and he couldn’t stop the prickly sensation no matter how hard he rubbed. Something like that could drive you crazy, he thought. The prickly feeling gradually lessened, to be replaced by pain as blood flowed into oxygen-starved muscles. He stood, pushing through the pain, and wobbled like a drunk. “I can do it now.”

Asadullah said, “I will kill you without hesitation, you know this. To stay alive, do exactly what I say. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“You will take me across the border and into Presidio. You will make sure we are not seen by anyone.”

“I understand. I can do it.”

Tags: Billy Kring Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net