El TIEMPO de VIVIR [TIME TO LIVE]
The car Mateo had 'borrowed' was a piece of shit. The transmission was whiny, the brakes squeaky, and the fucking radio didn't work. The only good thing about it was its tires. It had managed to get him where he needed to go. Although it had been some time since he had been here, it hadn't taken him long to find the place. There was a weak light illuminating three or four figures standing in the doorway. Alca Huete all over again. He didn't understand why the federales hadn't seized this building for evidence. He shrugged it off. Nothing about the Ortiz familia made any sense. He put the shitty car in park and sat for a moment behind the wheel. You are a yellow dog, Mateo. Get out of the fucking car and take your medicine. He reached out with his left hand to grab the door handle and stopped. There was a gold wedding band encircling his finger. He stared down at the piece of gold for several moments. Bizarre. Since when did Mateo Luis have a wife? Since never. He made moves to take it off, but the moment he touched the ring, he stopped. This gold band has not left your finger since the day of your wedding. If you take it off now, you can never go back. He pushed at the door and got out of the car. Do I truly believe that I will go back? What am I thinking? Mateo didn't try to hide or duck; there was no use. Ortiz knew he was coming and was probably monitoring the situation anyway. He made his way slowly through the brush. Apparently, this building had been vacant until just recently. How sick was this fucker to meet here? The men at the door watched as the tall man draped in black leather slowly approached. Their jefe [boss] had told them to expect Mateo. Only one of the men knew Luis. Pedro Rivera had been one of the lesser Ortiz hermanos [brothers]. The 'legend' of Mateo Luis and Pablo Dominguez was longstanding. Mateo was known for his trafficking prowess and Pablo for his cruelty. When Mateo was close enough to the men to discern features, he immediately recognized Pedro. He could see that Pedro wanted to shoot him. The two of them had always been at each other. Pedro wanted to beat Mateo, but each time he handled a 'shipment' for Ortiz, he wound up behind bars. The man was an el perdedor patético [pathetic loser].
Pedro grinned toward Mateo, but it didn't reach his eyes. It never did. "¿Tan tu vuelve al doblez, eh Mateo? Raphael será mucho complació para verlo." [So you return to the fold, eh Mateo? Raphael will be much pleased to see you.]
Mateo eyed the other man up and down, his lips contorted into a vicious snarl. "Tengo no negocio con tu. Yo'M para aquí ver Raphael. O dice mí donde el bastardo es o yo joder empuja mi manera por la puerta." [I have no business with you. I'm here to see Raphael. Either tell me where the bastard is or I will fucking shove my way through the door.]
With a shiteating grin on his face, Pedro moved away from the door, going so far as to open it for him. Mateo didn't trust the man as far as he could throw him. As he slipped into the building, he kept his eyes glued on the other man. This will be a long night. The only thing that offers me comfort is the fact that I will never have to do this again.
* * *
Raphael was watching the activity from one of the interior rooms on the other side of the building. Most of it had been obliterated by the federales when they took down Alca Huete and his gang. However, he had managed to salvage a few rooms here and there. One of them would hold Mateo until it was time for him to die. The young man had a few tricks up his sleeve involving the squalling brats. When he thought of them, he dug out his cell phone and made a couple of calls. How could he torture Mateo without the babies? After he disconnected his last call, he groaned angrily. His plan had been working perfectly until Lisa fucked it up. Whenever he saw the puta [bitch] again, he would kill her slowly, and make her beg for mercy. He hated squealers more than he hated yellow dogs.
* * *
Loralei pulled her car close to a ravine off the road. Both women recognized this place and hated it equally. There weren't any lights in this area of town, so Loralei figured they could make it to the building before they were detected. In the back of her mind, she hoped that Donovan and the team weren't far behind. For the first time in almost a year and a half, Loralei put her hands on a gun. She was still registered to carry, but she hadn't used one since she and Kara were here last. Tonight, they might need it. She glanced at Kara and noticed that her sister in-law was distant and quiet. Seeing Farron like they had had done a job on her. Of course, Loralei understood. If she had seen her husband like that, she might have difficulty vocalizing as well. Unbeknownst to both women, their husbands had once sat together like this, sick with worry, wondering if the people they loved would make it out alive.
Before Kara made a move to get out of the car, she had to drive the images out of her mind. The man stealing the car was not her husband. He was some horrible thief in the night who had taken the man she loved. This was the man he had told her about when they first met, the man who trafficked drugs for a living, but wouldn't shoot a man. She had never been exposed to this Mateo Luis ever before and it rattled her to her core. She couldn't associate that man on the street with the one who came into the delivery room with her when their twins were born. The man she knew held his tiny babies for the first time and cried. She had never seen him so animated or so happy before, not even on their wedding day. She couldn't associate the two different sides of her husband. It was as if he were another person. A crazy thought entered her mind, one that she was completely tempted to ask Loralei. Do the Donovan brothers have an evil triplet out there somewhere? The thought nearly made her laugh. Good God, she was hysterical.
Kara finally looked at her sister in-law. "Can we go now? The longer we stay here, the closer to…I can't say it."
Loralei nodded. "We'll go."
* * *
Donovan, Alex, and Jake were stalking three different locations surrounding the outer fringes of the building. Upon approaching, he had seen Loralei's car and immediately went over to it. Of course, neither his wife nor his sister in-law were still inside. It was stupid of him to think that they would be in the car. It was too easy. It didn't help him when he noticed several fresh clips scattered about the car seat. He immediately knew that Loralei had armed herself. He wondered if Kara had as well. Donovan was livid and worried at the same time. Before the night was through, he thought his head might explode. He wanted to kill his wife and kiss her at the same time. He had moved away from the car and hid in the overgrown foliage around the hospital's grounds. He could see nothing. Every few minutes, Jake and Alex reported that they saw nothing. Cody did the same. Donovan tried not to remember what happened the last time the group was here. Loralei was pregnant with Tristan and she and Kara had been abducted. He hadn't had an inkling of an idea if either woman was going to make it out alive. The same feelings were surging through him right now. Almost all my family in one shot. I won't let it happen. Not tonight, not ever. Donovan cursed under his breath. They couldn't be that far behind Loralei and Kara. Where the hell are they? If they weren't all in stealth mode, he would have called out. The thought swam crazily through his head and he nearly laughed. Goddamn. He was losing his mind. The tiny speaker shoved in his head came to life as Jake's voice declared that he saw movement ahead. He was tempted to ask Jake if the 'movement' involved two women. Stay focused. You can't let your insane wife rattle you. Work mode, work mode, work mode. Remember that.
* * *
Loralei and Kara had made their way toward the back of the building. It was the side not lit up. Kara shivered suddenly, recalling that this was the side of the building where she and Loralei had been dragged to, where they nearly became cocaine call girls. Both women heard activity around the front of the building. Loralei cursed indignantly and grabbed her sister in-law's forearm. The two women ducked back into the brush. Coming out into the clear were two beefy looking men. They were speaking Spanish back and forth. Loralei strained to listen to the conversation. She knew only a little more Spanish than Kara [which wasn't very damn much], but she thought she could discern enough to let her know if they were in trouble. The men were speaking in hushed tones, likely doing it on purpose. Good God, Loralei thought. They know we're here. Of course they knew. What the hell did she think would happen? Did she honestly believe that Ortiz wouldn't be waiting and watching? Hell, they knew Farron had a brother who was a damn federal agent. They might have just enough time to get back to the car and call in the reserves. Using gestures, she indicated to Kara that it was time to retreat. Donovan and the gang had to be here by now. Although Kara didn't want to move come hell or high water, she noticed the frightened look on her sister in-law's face. Their secret was out.
They moved quietly through the brush, wincing each time the bushes crackled or moved. Ahead of her, Kara thought she saw movement. The figure seemed somewhat familiar to her. Frank. He was several feet ahead, but if she wanted to get his attention, she would have to shout. Hopefully, he noticed them. Behind her, she heard a muffled whimper and then a thud. When she whipped around, her sister in-law was gone. She didn't have time to scream for help or to breathe. A set of strong arms grabbed her tightly around the waist. She struggled against the arms and beat at the hands. A pair of lips came down to her ear and the breath was fetid, as if he had swallowed something rotten. The scary part of it was that this man was familiar to her. He opened his mouth and began to release his poison. Tan encontramos otra vez, la ramera. Si tu hace cualquier ruido, yo chasquearé su es cuello que jode, y entonces chasquearé los cuellos de sus bebés amarillos de perro. [So we meet again, bitch. If you make any noise, I'll snap your fucking neck, and then I'll snap the necks of your yellow dog babies.] Kara couldn't understand a word, but she knew this man, she knew who he was as well as she knew her own shoe size. He had taken her babies, had torn her family apart, and now she had walked right into his hands. She wished for Loralei's gun. She would surely put a bullet in this man's head.
* * *
Thinking he heard something ahead, Donovan pushed forward with his gun at the ready. The brush around him was trampled. The sickening smell of broken greenery suddenly filled his nostrils. Whatever battle was held here was recently fought. He looked around the area and saw something sticking within a pricker bush. What the hell? Not feeling the sting of the injuries he was receiving, he ripped his hand through the middle of the bush and snagged the piece of cloth that had caught his attention. It was from a blouse of a woman. Loralei. Goddamn it. The fuckers inside had taken his wife, had likely taken his sister in-law as well. Once again, the thought that he might lose the majority of his family tonight ran through his mind. He had to knock it out, knock it back into the recesses of his mind. Work mode, work mode, work mode. Shaking himself out of the horror, he managed to report to his agents what he had found. Regardless whether or not Ortiz was aware of their presence, it was time to enter the building and tear it apart. Perhaps later, he and Farron would return to these grounds and burn this place to the ground. After that, no other Colombian heavies could call it home.
* * *
With a moan, Loralei regained consciousness. Her head hurt like a bitch and moving only increased the pain, bringing with it a sharp woozy feeling. Dizzy. I'm dizzy. Who the hell hit her and with what? Wonderingly, she looked down at her arm. My fucking sleeve is missing. Struggling a little, she brought her body up to her knees and she was rocked by another strong wave of dizziness. If she ever found the guy, she would fucking kill him. She glanced around at her environment and groaned. She was stuck in one of the cell-like rooms. Déjà vu. Another wave of vertigo attacked her again and for a frightening moment, she thought she might vomit. No stomach pyrotechnics tonight, my dear. After the dizziness and nausea subsided, she suddenly remembered Kara. Taking a deep breath, she brought herself up to her feet. The dizziness struck again and she caught herself on the rusty cot frame. I'm going to beat the living shit out of whoever did this. She walked carefully up to the door and peered out the small window. The hall was dark and seemingly deserted. Her captors had likely thrown her in a cell far away from the activity. Activity. From the murder, you mean. Knowing it was a useless feat she reached out and took hold of the door handle. She cursed out loud when it didn't turn in her hand. Stupid, stupid, Loralei. Did you truly think the door wouldn't be locked? You're a damn idiot. The jerk who hit her had taken her gun. She was basically defenseless. A couple of thoughts assaulted her repeatedly. Where the hell had the men taken Kara? Where the hell were the babies?
* * *
Donovan, Jake, and Alex went in three different directions. Donovan was surprised that no one had come running around to the back to gun him down. It was a feeling that made his stomach lurch. He thought he felt every hair on his body standing on end. There were bullet holes scattered all about the outer walls. He was amazed that so much shooting had occurred here a year and a half ago. All of them were lucky to have made it out alive. Would they be so lucky tonight? He shoved it back again. Work mode, work mode, work mode. He heard his team checking in periodically, and he responded in kind, but he honestly couldn't remember a word he said. He caught sight of a gaping hole in the wall. When he approached, he realized it was one of the cells with its window broken out. He told the crew what he was doing, but again, his voice seemed no more than a drone, a warbling sound one might hear when near a beehive. Carefully, alert times ten, he took the discarded sleeve and wrapped it around his hand. From the look of the window, there wasn't any glass in it, but he wouldn't take any chances. Reaching up, he took hold of the windowsill and to get enough leverage to begin the process of pulling himself over. When he didn't feel any jagged glass, he reached up with his other hand and thrust his body upward. He landed badly, his leg connecting with a burned out cot frame. He gritted his teeth angrily against the unexpected pain and noise. Why didn't I just fucking knock on the goddamn door and ask for coffee and cake? Very subtle.
In the room to the immediate left, Loralei looked up suddenly when she heard a distant thud. It sounded as if it had come from directly next-door. Impossible. You're hearing things. She sat quietly, holding her breath. Perhaps the noise would come again. It was either one of the team or one of the bad guys. The noise didn't repeat itself, however, she heard something else. It sounded like a door creaking open ever so slowly. She didn't understand how she could hear everything next door. Weren't the cells soundproof? Duh…this side of the old hospital wasn't used, you idiot. Didn't you learn anything the last time you came here? Of course, her cell was perfect [for a ratty, rotten space]. Unless they [Frank] were looking for her, they would never hear or see her. When she heard the door close, she smashed her face up against the window, but couldn't see the person. Whoever it was [Frank] had joggled left instead of right. She took hold of the door handle to steady herself as a wave of dizziness struck her again. When will this stop eating at me?
Donovan moved down the dark as midnight hallway. There was no light anywhere. What part of the damn building were they in? Before he lost his bearings, he turned around and walked back from where he came. The minutes were ticking away and the longer they waited, the riskier the game became. He moved along the inside wall, keeping his body close to the darkness. Someone would only detect his movements if he or she smacked right up against him. He walked past the room where he made his entry and came upon something odd. There was a bright shiny key sticking into the lock of Cell 115. He had the greatest urge to keep on moving. He might not want to see what was behind that door. However, his mind was pushing him, prodding him.
Loralei's head shot up [causing another wicked wave of dizziness to rock her] when she heard the key turning in the lock. Up until now, she had been crouching by the rotten cot, trying to think of a way to get herself, Farron, and Kara out of this mess. Someone was coming after her. Well, let's just see about that. If you want to kill me, you'll have a nice little fight on your hands. She duck walked to the opposite wall of the cell and straightened her body flat against the pitted concrete. She couldn't see the face of her attacker, but that was okay. As soon as she heard the footsteps, she lashed out blindly, tripping the bastard and knocking him to the floor.
Donovan tasted dirt and smelled moldy bedding. Jesus Christ. What the hell hit me? After his French kiss with the floor ended, he heard an all too familiar gasp and a cry of 'oh shit.' A moment later, a hand was grasping his arm, desperately trying to turn him over. Disoriented and a bit perplexed, he didn't know what to do first. Should he cuff her and throw her in the back of his car? Should he grab her and kiss her until she could no longer breathe? Should he return the favor and allow her to French kiss the floor?
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "Oh God, baby, I'm sorry. Are you all right?"
What, exactly, was she apologizing for? Running off or knocking him down? For a moment…a brief moment he came out of 'work mode' and became 'pissed off husband.' "What the hell were you thinking?" How many times during their relationship had they had this conversation? Did it ever work? Did she ever listen?
"I was trying to help keep Kara's husband and your brother alive," she said.
"I'll deal with you…and Cody…later. Are you okay?" His eyes were searching her face in the dark.
"I got hit on the head, but I'm fine," she insisted.
Incredulously, he gazed at her. Did she think he was going to give her a gun and let her flank him or something? "You're going with Jake. He's the closest to us. You're not to step back inside this building. Do you know where Kara is?"
She shook her head. "No."
He kissed her then, hard and deeply. He tasted like dirt, but she didn't give a fuck. When he broke the kiss, he placed his hand on the side of her neck. "Go," he said. "The room next door has a broken out window. Exit that way." He reaffixed his earpiece. "Jake, come around. Take my wife and lock her in my car. Stand guard until this is over."
She might have argued with him if she didn't feel like shit. Not trusting her an inch, Donovan led Loralei into the cell next door and watched until she climbed out the window. He glanced out and watched as she met Jake halfway. His wife was utterly insane, but he loved the hell out of her.
* * *
Kara paced the floor crazily, much as she had done back at the house. She wondered absently if this was the same dank and dirty cell Alca Huete's gang had locked her away in before. The night she and Loralei had been abducted was the night she discovered she was hopelessly in love with Farron. He had been shot trying to protect her and she thought he had been killed. When Farron showed up alongside his brother and his team to rescue her and Loralei, she had known then that she never wanted to be apart from him.
She stopped her useless pacing and leaned her forehead up against the cold dirty metal door. He wouldn't be saving her this night, and she had failed in her pitiful attempt to save him. She prayed that Loralei was safe and that Donovan had gotten Loralei's message. She didn't know how much time they had left, but she was sure it was very little.
She turned and put her back up against the door. Where was Farron? Was he with the babies? Would the man she had witnessed earlier even recognize his children? Would they know him? "Oh God," she groaned, unable to deal with the agonizing thought of their twins being without their father. Would Farron have the chance to see them before…
She punched back at the door as she pushed away from it and resumed her pacing. It's not fair, her mind screamed. He had changed, had redeemed himself, hadn't he? "He deserves better than this," she screamed at the ceiling, angry at the Powers-That-Be. "We deserve better than this," she whispered.
Kara was lost. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what was happening. Her family might be dead at that very moment and she was trapped like a caged animal. She took a step and stopped abruptly. For a second there, she had thought she had heard a sound. She listened intently, but there was nothing. She was beginning to imagine things. Maybe she was becoming hysterical just as she had thought back in the car. She shook her head and took another step. The sound came again, this time louder, and her heart lurched. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved to the door and strained toward the sound. It was the unmistakable sound of an infant's cry. To the untrained ear, it sounded like one child, but Kara heard the distinct wails of each of her babies. Alive. My babies are alive!
Kara sobbed as she began beating against the door, demanding to be let out. As if they could hear the sound of her voice, the children's wailing grew louder, more insistent. "Give me my babies, you fucking bastards," she screamed. When no one came to the door to shut her up and the cries of her infants began to fade, Kara sank to her knees on the floor. She wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking. "Mommy's here, darlings. Mommy's here," she repeated over and over.
--To be continued…