“What is it you wish?”
“The people who caused our problems need to be eliminated: Lincoln Jones. The CIA agent, and that woman of the Patrulla who has her nose in everything. I want them gone. You and the others will do that. I’ll help you with the planning details.” He smiled, “And maybe with some of the rest of it.”
After the others left, Hiyoki went to the TOR site on his computer, found the onion website he needed, and entered the Deep Web, where his identity and his actions were untraceable. Fifteen minutes later he found what he needed. There wasn’t much sarin available, but it would be enough for his immediate plans. He concluded the business with confirmed shipping dates to his location, and he paid for it, including delivery, in bitcoins. He exited the deep web and turned off his laptop, and thought about the female Border Patrol Agent.
~*~
Hunter felt good after a regular day of work. She and Raymond cut a trail below Marathon, stayed on it all the way up to U.S. 90, and found the four backpackers hiding in a brush-choked gulley at the edge of the highway. It was an unusual catch, because they normally found backpackers with marijuana, but this time it was a hundred pounds of marijuana, plus forty pounds of cocaine, evenly distributed among their packs.
She drove home and parked in the drive, thinking about her blackberry bushes in the back yard and how loaded they were with fruit. It was time to pick them before birds cleaned her out.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. It was from David: Our parents want to talk to you. They are mad at us. Please come, pleasepleaseplease! He gave the address in Marfa, and the time tonight.
Hunter sighed, knowing she would go. She exited to the back yard through the kitchen door and picked blackberries before returning inside the house.
Leaving her house at eight PM, Hunter parked in front of the address the boys gave her. As she exited her pickup, the three boys came out of the house, hurrying to her. “I’m sure glad you’re here.” Lonny said, “They’ll listen to you.”
“I’m going to be honest with them.”
Carlos said, “That’s all we need. You’re kinda my mom’s hero.”
David said, “Let’s go inside.”
The house was small and neat, an old adobe someone modernized with new lights and a nice kitchen. The parents sat in the living room, and only Lonny had both parents. Carlos and David’s mothers were there, no fathers. After formalities, Hunter took a seat on the couch with Mary, David’s mother, and Florinda, Carlos’ mother. Gene and Kelly, Lonny’s parents, sat on the loveseat. Mary said, “We’ve heard their versions
of what happened, but we’d like to hear yours. We believe it might hold more relevance to reality than theirs.”
Hunter nodded, and told them about it, including Carlos being captured and then rescued. She did make it sound as though the boys had been critical in helping the military stop a possible attack on Mexican civilians. She didn’t mention the civilians might be Cartel members.
They asked a number of questions, and Hunter answered them. At the end, Mary said, “That helps. Now we just have to figure out their punishment. And they’ll be happy to know the death penalty is off the table, thanks to you.”
Hunter grinned, “That’s good to hear. You all have great kids, ones to be proud of.” She left them, with the boys trying to wheedle less severe repercussions.
She got a text twenty minutes later from David saying they talked their parents down from being grounded for a month to a week because they all made the honor roll last week. Not too bad, Hunter thought, those boys might make good courtroom lawyers.
Hunter fell into an easy routine at work, and by the end of the workweek, she felt good enough to run seven miles after work rather than her normal five. Leaving the house, she warmed up in town, making a wide rectangle along the city blocks. When she felt ready, Hunter trotted down to the railroad tracks and ran on the roads paralleling the iron rails pointing into the distance.
She was a mile out of town when she spotted the small drone high in the air. It stayed with her, and at first she thought it might be one of the boy’s drones. As she moved farther from the tracks and onto another parallel road, the drone dropped lower and accelerated toward her.
Hunter stopped to look and spotted the small soda-straw barrel extension on it like those that spewed sarin. She sprinted away, cutting across the train tracks and angling for the cemetery, where the nearest large trees grew.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the drone drop even lower, then level out and accelerate toward her back. Hunter paralleled the fence before cutting hard for the cemetery entrance.
The drone lost a few feet with her sudden move, but pushed forward to gain on its prey.
Hunter thought as she ran, Why didn’t I carry my pistol? She remembered glancing at the small .38 caliber Airweight in her drawer and deciding she didn’t need it this time. Angry with herself, Hunter looked left and right for something, anything.
The drone buzzed as it came towards her and Hunter ducked behind a tree, losing it again for a moment. She saw the work shed and sprinted for it and the long-handled shovel leaning against the wall.
The sounds told her it was coming fast, and she dug deeper to sprint forward, grabbing the shovel without slowing down and cutting behind the corner as she passed. Hunter slid to a stop as she raised the shovel like a bat and as soon as the drone appeared, she smashed it out of the air with the shovel blade.
Gas billowed out in a small cloud and Hunter fell backward on the ground, scrambling madly to put distance between herself and the gas. She stopped thirty feet away and watched a cloud the size of an oil drum slowly dissipate as it drifted on the breeze, taking the deadly fumes away from her.
Hunter still held the shovel and looked around for any other drones, but saw nothing. On a hunch, she dropped the shovel and scrambled up a tree, going high into the uppermost limbs, which gave her a commanding view of the nearby area. And there it was. A Hummer II, with a Japanese man leaning against the hood and holding a small laptop. He appeared angry, and moved to the open driver’s door, tossing the laptop into the passenger seat before getting in to drive away.
Was this Haruto Hiyoki? The vehicle was too far away to get a license plate, but she had a good look at the driver. Hunter thought the Hummer was the same one she had seen at the Marfa golf course when the boys raced their drones, too.
The run home had her looking in every direction for another attack, but she made it clean. Her phone lay on the kitchen bar and she picked it up to speed dial Lincoln Jones.