Chapter 43

Steele peered out the helicopter’s large bowed window at the soldier dressed in fatigues guiding his landing onto a grassy area at the army base. With a slight bump, the landing skids settled on the ground. Steele turned the power off and the whirling blades slowed down from a whine to a wop, wop, wop.

Tiffany was buckled in the front seat next to Steele. She hadn’t said a word the entire flight. From time to time she had sobbed which turned into a soft whimper before fading into silence. She should have been ecstatic being rescued. What the hell had she been through? Mac Ruster was strapped in the rear seat behind Tiffany with his hands still tied behind his back. An uncomfortable position, but Steele could care less.

Steele climbed out of the helicopter. The sergeant snapped to attention.

“Sir, your car is ready,” the soldier said.

“At ease, Sergeant. I’m a civilian.”

The sergeant looked like he wanted to say something, but held it back. “Yes, sir. The keys and registration are in the car.”

Steele glanced at the black Ford sedan with government license plates. He understood the sergeant’s confusion. Or curiosity. Civilians didn’t land helicopters on an army base. Civilians weren’t given a military owned car. But Fort Huachuca was home to the United States Army Intelligence Center so the sergeant knew to accept the unexpected.

Steele flipped the helicopter keys to the sergeant. They bounced off his chest, but he caught them in midair. Good reflexes, Steele thought and smiled.

“Sir, what should I do with these?”

Steele smiled at the confused sergeant. “The chopper is contraband. From a Mexican cartel. Keep it. Sell it. It’s now the property of the U.S. Army.”

The helicopter was all that remained from Marco Perez’s compound. Before they had left, Steele had checked out the damaged rental car. The way it drove, he knew the frame was bent, but he didn’t have far to go. He was going to report the car stolen when he got back and rent another one. Steele had turned the car around one-hundred-eighty degrees to face the front double doors. He gunned the engine. The wheels spun and then the car lurched forward. When the front tires hit the single step, the car went airborne and flew through the open doors. Steele had slammed on the brakes, skidding the car to a stop at the base of the staircase where Carlos’s body lay.

Steele then ran to the outcropping. He retrieved the sniper rifle, brought it back to the rental car, and tossed it inside the vehicle along with his magazine belt and the canvas pouch filled with live rounds. He and Red dragged the dead guards from outside and piled them around the car. Then Steele shimmied under the car and punctured the gas tank with his knife. He rolled out of the way as the gasoline spilled out and spread on the tile floor.

After a lot of hugs from Rosa, Red drove off with her in his car and Steele buckled Tiffany and Mac into the helicopter and started it up. He jumped out and, hunched over, ran under the whirling blades to the house’s front door. He fired his assault rifle at the gasoline-soaked floor. After a few sparks, it ignited the gasoline and the flames quickly spread to consume the car. Steele chucked the assault rifle into the flames.

Steele rushed back to the helicopter and lifted off vertically. The helicopter wobbled slightly. It had been some time since Steele had flown one. Steele propelled the helicopter forward on its flight to Fort Huachuca which was fifteen miles north of the border in Southeastern Arizona. Not that far a drive from there to Cactus Point or Bisbee.

Steele had halted the helicopter’s forward progress and turned it around, hovering over the outcropping. The flames grew, now shooting out of the windows and door. And then—BOOM—the car and ammo exploded. The entire building and everything and everyone inside had been engulfed in flames. Live rounds blasted like firecrackers.

The flight to Fort Huachuca had been short, and now they were safely across the border. On American soil. Steele nodded to the sergeant and scooped Tiffany out of the helicopter and carried her to the government car. He placed her in the front passenger seat and buckled her in. She didn’t say a word or even look at him. It was like handling a ragdoll. Steele wasn’t as gentle with Mac. He dragged him out of the helicopter. Mac fell to the ground with a grunt and moan. With his hands tied behind his back, he couldn’t break his fall. Steele lifted him up by the back of his collar and shoved him toward the car. The sergeant looked even more confused. Steele put Mac into the back seat behind Tiffany and buckled him in.

Steele had intended to go to the sheriff’s office in Bisbee first. Get a confession for the Cactus Point High School shooting and have Mac locked up and off his hands. And to inform the sheriff about Millwater. There was no need to mention what had happened in Mexico. But Steele had to take care of Tiffany first. She was almost comatose. So Steele drove to Cactus Point.