Page 28 of Extraction
“No, she just asked us to hold it and that someday someone might come looking for it.” Sister Margaret rubbed the cross that hung from her neck. “If I’ve learned anything from being a nun all these years, it’s that evil never truly dies. I won’t believe this man is dead,” she pointed to Eric Noah’s name, “until I see the body.” Her eyes narrowed on mine, and I felt she was warning me that evil was near. “There will always be a place here for you, my child,” her eyes softened, “for you and for baby Eric.”
“I bet she went to Campeche,” Sister Maria blurted. “One night she told me that she wished little Eric could see where it all began. She said it had been a place where she’d felt happy and safe. There was something about a dragon who flew with one wing.” She looked thoughtful.
“Dragon?” I repeated as Sister Margaret huffed.
“Fanciful dreams of a young mother. Don’t confuse those with reality, Sister.”
“She’s only trying to help.” I smiled at the younger nun. “Who knows, it could be a metaphor for something.” I tucked the information away and stood. “Thank you.” I smiled warmly and hugged them. “It’s a place to start, and maybe I’ll be able to find them after all.” I said my goodbyes and headed back to the truck.
“Campeche is known for its historic fortifications, colonial architecture, and Mayan ruins.” I kicked my feet up on the dash as I studied the tiny fact sheet. I’d taken it from the shelf at the gas station when I arrived in the city. “There’s no mention of dragons, though.”
I flopped my head back with a sigh and caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. I cringed at how swollen my face was. Makeup had helped, but nothing could hide the fact I was at the mercy of Bruno fucking Perez. I could only imagine how many men he had on the hunt for me.
Sure, I could call my contacts and have them get me out of Mexico, but that would mean my time here as a correspondent would be over. I could handle this and still do my job. I just needed to find the kid and hand him over to whomever then lie to Bruno that he’d been found by someone else.
A sudden memory flooded my nostrils of that Godawful perfume he wanted me to wear. It made my stomach roll violently. “Stop.” I snapped, and the memory fizzled away. That was years ago, and I wasn’t in that position anymore.
I glanced at the pre-paid phone and knew I needed to check in, but every call was risky, and I was afraid to waste my minutes. I looked at the time and waited for the second hand to reach the eleven then pushed the number. On the second ring, he picked up, and I mentally started to count.
“You’re alive.”
“Barely.”
“You alone?”
“I think so.” I looked around. “I’m in Campeche. If someone said they saw a dragon here, where might that be?”
Silence. “Let me see what I can find.” The call ended. I eyed the bag of things I’d bought in a different city and pulled out a touristy outfit. I needed to blend. I wiggled into it then tossed the phone, truck keys, disposable camera, and paper map in a cheap wicker purse and set out to see what I could discover.
The air was chilly but not too cold, and my outfit of jeans, boots, and a white, off-the-shoulder sweater seemed perfect as I looked at the people around me. I inched the blue ball hat a little farther down to help hide my beaten face and put on a pair of dark sunglasses.
I walked slowly and stopped at a couple of vendors for some fresh fruit and nuts. While I paid, I casually asked each person about one-winged dragon pictures or statues in the area but was met with confused shrugs. No one had any idea what I was asking about. Perhaps the one-winged dragon Talya spoke of was just a personal fantasy of hers.
I walked for hours and showed Talya’s photo to several people who looked like they might work there and weren’t just tourists. Finally, when my feet refused to go any farther, I stopped at an outdoor café along the beach.
This was a difficult hunt unlike any I’d ever done, and I’d located more than one wanted Cartel member when no one else could. I prided myself on my success record. But this was different; I had almost zero to go on. I knew very little about this particular Cartel family. Talya was dead, and she was the only person who could be remotely recognizable if she’d ever even come to this place. Even the baby would look different now. I sipped my coffee and wondered what to do.
Part of me wanted to call in and say I was done here and head back to the States, but there was a baby involved. A baby without a family to protect him. God only knew what would happen if any one of these people got their hands on him. I wondered where Talya would have hidden the child if she’d been running from the father or someone else. I couldn’t walk away.
I watched a diving instructor check his tanks and gear as he marked on a clipboard, then I smiled as a young couple kissed under a beach umbrella. It was a lovely place, and I could imagine spending time here. I sipped my drink and thought about ordering something to eat, but as I picked up the menu, something pulled my attention. I put my drink down and looked back at the diving instructor, who was in conversation with a rather handsome man. When I glanced at the man, he turned and walked away.
I gathered my things and decided to look for a hotel for the night. I made my way back to the truck and started down the coast highway. I rather liked this part of Mexico and made a promise to myself that someday I’d come back here. Ha! Give your head a shake, Nicole. I laughed out loud and opened the window. The sea air helped my head feel better. With all the shit I’d been through in the last forty-eight hours, I decided I would treat myself to an upscale hotel. I saw a place I liked and pulled into the Ocean View Hotel. They had some rooms free, the perks of it being off season.
As I headed to the stairs, I noticed the man from the beach again. He talked to one of the staff by the pool. Coincidence? In my job, I noticed things. Something cold washed over me, and I wondered if he’d been following me. I watched them as they began to laugh, then the man slapped the pool guy on the shoulder as he pointed at a far set of stairs. I relaxed a bit, as it was obviously a nice place. I’d chosen it, so why not him?
Once I got my things up to my room and checked out the place, I touched base with General Bruce in Washington. I needed to fill him in on where I was and what I was working on. He let me finish then told me about my team and that they’d been murdered. I hung up on him as he apologized and let the horrible news sink in. Once I got a handle on myself, I headed to the bathroom.
I skipped the shower and went for a hot soak in the tub that looked out over the ocean. I opened the large windows and invited the salty breeze in. With far too many bubbles, I sank into the hot water and gave a small cry at how wonderful it felt. The cuts on my skin stung, but I didn’t care. I needed some pampering. I hadn’t relaxed in what felt like eight months, and given the news I just got, I needed it. I pumped a nice amount of delicious-smelling shampoo into my hand then took a deep breath and slid under the water. I scrubbed my hair clean of dust and debris from the attack on the motel. The silence was almost too much for my thoughts to handle, so I popped up, leaned back, closed my eyes, and pretended this was my vacation, not my everyday life. Soon, I drifted off to sleep.
At some point, I woke with a jolt, and my pounding heart reminded me of how stupid it was to fall asleep in a tub. I blinked away the fog and felt around the cool water for the plug. The bubbles were all dissolved now, and the little tea candle I had lit was down to the bottom of the wick. How long had I slept?
My stomach growled as I got dressed and dried my hair. Satisfied with the little makeup I’d applied, I headed down to the restaurant and hoped they were still open.
“Table for one,” I told the waiter and followed him outside to a table under a heater. “Gracias.” As he handed me a menu, I spotted the man again. He was talking to someone in Spanish by the large chiminea. I studied him carefully. He was tall, fit, and lean, and by the way he held himself, I wondered if he was law enforcement. He kept one tattooed arm folded low over his chest, while he rested the other on top and rubbed his chin as he listened. I recognized the stance. It was a tactical move, so they had their arms up, ready to fight if someone made a move. When he turned and looked my way, I quickly glanced down at the menu. A moment later, I looked back, and he was gone.
“Buenas noches, señorita. What can I get for you?” The waiter smiled.
“Shrimp taco and a margarita, please.” His smile widened as if happy with my choice, then he disappeared and left me with one hell of an ocean view. I let out a deep sigh.
