Page 25 of Extraction
“You tell me,” I snapped at him. “She was in her room at the motel under watch, and then there is a huge explosion, and one of my men is killed, and the other,” I pointed at the door, “is missing half his fucking face. Now, I’m told she drives one of my trucks and is with the owner of the motel!”
“All right,” he raised his hands to calm me down, “so have your man track her down. I can promise you she’s still looking for the child.”
I shook my head. “And how do you know that?”
“Because you have her good friend, and one thing to know about Nicole Winter is that she’ll do whatever is necessary to protect someone she cares about. I know. I’ve seen it firsthand.” At his words, I dug my teeth into my bottom lip. “What is it?” He leaned forward when he sensed my mood change. “Did something happen with the cameraman?”
“Those pinches gringos from the north took him.” His face lit up, a wide grin stretching across his lips.
“Oh, really?”
“Sí.” I tapped my fingers on the desk.
“That’s a good thing, then, yeah?”
“Quizás. In time… we’ll see.”
My phone vibrated, and I turned it around for him to see.
J: I have something for you.
“See,” Sully beamed, “things are looking up.”
I hit the J and connected the call.
EIGHT
NICOLE
Carlos knocked on my window, and I jerked awake. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen asleep. He held up a small bag. He looked all around as I rolled down the glass. Two men stood a few feet back from him. Instantly, I was on high alert, and for a split second, I thought he’d brought Perez’s men to me.
“Who are they?” I pointed with my chin.
He tried to put my mind at ease. “My cousin came with his friend. You need to get rid of this truck. It might be tracked, so you can take mine. The keys are inside.” He pointed to a rusty old blue pickup truck. “When you get to wherever you’re going, hide it somewhere. You can text me where and I’ll come get it.” He waited a beat. “Take this.” He handed me a flip phone. “This has pre-paid minutes. I was able to get you twenty. Sorry there isn’t more.”
“No,” I yawned as I felt the weight of the last few days crash down on me, “that’s great. Thank you.”
He passed me the bag. “Water, juice, nuts, and some strange looking protein bar, but it’s something.” He shrugged.
“I appreciate it.” I dove into the water since I hadn’t had any in too long. I glanced around the bus station that looked to be out of service. “Where are you off to?” I glanced at his friends. As much as Carlos was a stranger to me, he made me miss my team. My mind flashed to Ben, and I truly hoped he was okay. I wouldn’t put it past Bruno to torture him just for the fun of it.
“We’ll head north. I might even go visit some family in the US. It’s time I left this place.”
“Might not be a bad idea.”
“Can you drive a stick?”
My stomach sank as I climbed out of the bloodstained driver’s seat. “Of course,” I lied. I had driven one before and almost died, but that was a problem I’d just have to deal with.
“Good. She’s a bit sticky moving into third but she’ll get you there.” He opened the door, and I slowly slid behind the wheel. The seat felt bouncy as I moved around. I started the engine.
He leaned in the open window. “Listen, I put my cousin’s number in that phone as well as mine. If you get into trouble, and I’m over the border, at least you have someone to call. Stay safe out there. It’s not a place for someone like you.” He shook his head.
“Don’t I know it.” I waved then quickly sent my contact at the Washington Post my new phone number. Jack was a good guy, and I knew he’d be sweating it out waiting for word from me. I put the truck into first, but as I tried to release the clutch, the truck jerked forward a few times and stalled. I didn’t look back as I started it again. This time I managed to get it to move and ignored the grinding when I put it in second. I pulled out onto the dusty road and hit the gas. I remembered his comment and ignored third gear completely and put it in fourth. I was thrilled when the truck didn’t stall. “We’re gonna do just fine, Rusty. We’re one with the road.” I grinned happily and propped the map up between the speedometer and the wheel and headed toward God knew what.
A few hours later, I’d finished all the stuff from the bag, but my stomach soon grumbled and begged for some real food. I fought with the gears and managed to pull over at a gas station where Rusty promptly stalled. I took a huge breath and started it again and was pleased to get the truck into a parking spot. I dug around for the GoPro camera. I knew I looked like death had beaten me with a dead cat, but that would only help sell my story. I got out and held up the camera. I made sure that the background was of the brick wall with its peeling paint. I didn’t want anything in view that could tie me to a specific location.
I arranged my face as I pressed record. “My name is Nicole Winter, and I’m a reporter with The Washington Post. At 4:29, while I was following another story and was asleep in a motel room just outside Mexico City, there was a massive explosion. As you can see on this footage, two Cartel families came together over what we think was a turf war. At this point, I am unaware of how many casualties there were, but I can confirm the deaths of two Perez soldiers.
