Chapter 9

El Jefe laughed hysterically at the news report.

“Cartel gang attacks local man in his home. Homeowner and 3 women killed.”

“Well well well ... I guess I don’t have to worry about this crazy ass gringo anymore. And his whores won’t be testifying either.”

The three ‘yes men’ standing in the room just laughed, nervously.

His head snapped up, “How many of the Chupacabras did you say we lost?”

A smaller man, wearing a cheesy Armani suit, quickly spoke up. “Twelve total were killed at the house. Another three dead from the initial incident at that shit hole diner. And seventeen others are just ... missing. I’m sorry Jefe.”

“Seventeen missing?” He asked the somewhat effeminate college boy.

“Yes Jefe.” He looked at his shoes as he continued. “We believe they fled the area and are laying low somewhere. But they have not made contact.”

“What about Julian?” He asked.

“Reported as dead, sir. At the house. Stabbed by the gringo.”

El Jefe stood. He walked slowly to the window that overlooked downtown San Antonio.

Something wasn’t right. These young gang members wanted nothing more than to be accepted and brought into the Cartel. It didn’t seem feasible that they would just run away and hide, for six whole days, and not a single one had attempted to make contact.

“I don’t buy it. Put the word out. A Million Dollars to anyone who finds out where these seventeen are being held and leads us to them.”

“Yes Jefe.” The little guy said. Then left the room.

Staring out the window, he wasn’t so positive any more about the gringo and his whores being dead. The federals were well known for faking things and telling lies.

“Call for the car.” He barked at the men in the room. “And call the airport. Tell them we fly in one hour. Mexico City.”

In the basement of ‘American Protective Life Insurance’, the seventeen young men of Mexican heritage waited for a lawyer or someone to come and tell them they were going home. Nobody was coming.

They had been locked away, behind several of the doors that were set every sixteen feet along either side of a long hallway that stretched from one end of the basement to the other.

Not together, but singularly. Segregated. Each one all alone to wonder what was going on.

They were given only sparse food and water, and had not seen each other since they were handcuffed, hooded, and herded into the back of a large black van.

Then, one by one, they were uncuffed and shoved into these rooms, left to remove their own hoods and wonder where they were.

The black hoods, a single yellow ‘paper towel’ type bed sheet, and the white boxer underwear were the only coverings afforded.

Each room was exactly the same. Eight by eight feet square, made of concrete block, with a heavy steel door.

The room only had a metal cot and a stainless-steel combination sink/toilet. Not even a mirror.

One roll of toilet paper, one ‘hand’ towel, and one plastic cup for drinking water from the sink.

Stark white walls. No windows. No television.

Soft ‘elevator music’ constantly played from a single speaker behind a metal grate in the concrete ceiling.

A camera watched their every move.

The only time they had any contact with anyone was when the small six-inch square peep hole in the door was opened from the outside, revealing a face wearing a balaclava, and then the three-inch by fourteen-inch tray slot opened and a plastic tray of beans and rice was shoved through the opening to them.

The previous meals plastic tray was required to be pushed out before the food was slid inside to them.

A single plastic spoon was provided to eat with.

Meals were served on a regular 8-hour schedule, with another 12-hour gap between every ‘supper’ meal and the ‘breakfast’ one, so that the young thugs had no idea how long they had even been locked away.

Bright lights remained on in the room for 30 hours straight, and then were dimmed to just a small single bulb for six hours, then bright again for another 30 hours.

It would have surprised them to know they had been in the rooms for almost a week.

Finally, after four ‘real world’ days, the first of the thugs was cuffed, hooded, and removed from his room and taken down to a room at the far end of the hall.

There he was sat down in a stainless-steel chair that was bolted to the floor and secured with a lab belt, a chest strap, ankle straps to the legs, and handcuff shackles at either side of his hips.

His hood was ripped off and he blinked to clear his vision. A large man in all black BDU’s and a gray balaclava loomed ominously over him, staring into his face with cold icy blue eyes.

Beginning to panic a little, Tavio looked around the room frantically. What he saw did not help his nerves at all.

Along the far wall was a metal table. It looked a lot like the tables you’d see a coroner working on a body upon in the movies and on TV. A long hose with a sprayer hung above the table.

Beside it was a shelf and cabinet containing all manner of bottles and containers of industrial and medical fluids.

And there was a ‘cart’ with a large tray of shiny stainless medical implements above a lower shelf containing DeWalt drills and grinders and saws.

The floor was slightly wet over there, and a trickle of water still flowed from the table to a big drain in the floor.

But the thing that made Tavio have to fight down his overwhelming fear was the machine in the corner.

A 240-volt Lincoln welder. With one lead attached to a sheepskin car washing mitt, and the other lead attached to a long cylindrical ‘probe’ about twelve inches long and as big around as a D-Cell flashlight.

A bucket of water sat on the floor in front of it, and several boxes of salt sat on top of the welder machine.

“DO NOT speak!” The big man ordered. “Let me explain your status to you.”

“As of right now, you are merely ‘missing’. Vanished into thin air.”

“Nobody knows you are here. Nobody knows who we are or that we have you. And nobody will care when you just disappear like so many of the young women who have come in contact with your little group of fucktard gangster wannabes.”

“You have already been declared a terrorist, an ‘enemy combatant’. You are no longer a citizen of the United States, or any other country. You are a prisoner of the war on terror, and as such you are deemed a threat to every Nation on the entire globe.”

“You have no right to remain silent. You have no right to an attorney. You have no right to a phone call. You have no rights at all.”

“You are going to talk to me. You are going to tell me everything I want to know. And you will tell me truthfully, or you will SUFFER the consequences of your deceit.”

The big man sat in a chair and crossed his legs, pausing for several minutes to let his words sink in.

“You are either here awaiting your transfer to Guantanamo, OR, you are here to answer my questions and give information that MAY earn you leniency in return.” The large gringo said.

“But be very sure of one thing ... you WILL talk and give information. No matter where you do so, or how long it takes.”

Tavio was trembling so hard the handcuff chains rattled on the metal chair.

A wet spot appeared in the white boxers, and a yellow stream of liquid ran from his chair toward the floor drain.

“Now.” Said the big man, as he started a video camera. “You may begin talking.”

“I want to know everything you know, and if I even think you are lying to me I will toss you back in your cell and ask your friends the same questions. And if you lied to me, I will bring you back in here and change the way I ask you until I get the truth.” He glanced back at the equipment behind him.

Six hours later, Tavio had spilled his guts. Telling and re-telling his story over and over as requested, never faltering or changing in the particulars.

He had done so almost willingly, without much more than a few raised-voice shouts from the big guy.

Over the next four days, the process was repeated fifteen more times.

Each of the small-time wannabe thugs broke within an hour. Each one told and re-told the same information again and again.

But they were merely ‘foot soldiers’ and had limited knowledge of the real workings of the cartel.

The seventeenth man was dragged painfully down the hallway, grunting and gritting his teeth from the pain of his leg injuries.

He was roughly placed in the hard metal chair without much care for his discomfort.

When his hood was pulled off, the hard steel gaze of the big man had changed. This time he was wishing for this piece of shit to play hard ass.

Julian didn’t disappoint.

With a hateful and defiant look in his eyes, he spat and demanded, “What you want gringo fucker? You think you can scare me into talking? Huh? You’re a dead man. Nothing we do here will save you, that other rat bastard, OR those six whores...”

The slap sounded like a gunshot, and Julian’s face stung fiercely as his left ear went deaf, save for the loud high-pitched whining. He fought hard not to cry out and he actually wondered if the flesh had been ripped away from the side of his face.

Barnes kicked the broken leg sideways, this time causing him to scream out in agony, and stepped in. Leaning his face close enough to almost touch noses with the shitbag.

“Shut your fucking mouth you piece of shit. You better listen close to what I have to say for the next few minutes. Your life depends on it.”

And he repeated the spiel he had given Sixteen times before.

The steady horn of the crashed SUV morphed into a rhythmic beeping tone of a heart monitor and pierced the blackness.

He was alive, and evidently in the Hospital.

Blackness?

Why couldn’t he see anything? And why couldn’t he move?

Voices. Low and hushed words.

Crying and sobs.

Many hands touching him all over, some comforting and some worrying and working about his body.

Pain in his left side when he took a breath.

Ribs? Maybe.

And a hard pressure in his mouth, stretching down the back of his throat.

A dull ache in his left shoulder. Not pain, more like a bad bruise.

Left toes? Check.

Right toes? Check.

Right hand? Something on his finger. Someone holding his hand.

Right shoulder? Nothing major.

Left hand? Ummm ... not good.

Left elbow? Nada.

Left Shoulder? Dull ache.

Chest? Had someone stomped him repeatedly?

His neck felt really stiff.

His tongue felt the tube and his nose detected the hospital smells.

His dick was stinging and burning, and he had to pee like crazy. OMG ... a catheter?

... and he detected a familiar perfume. Close.

That sweet voice.

Nia!

Hissing angrily at someone but trying to be quiet.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what the hospital or anyone says. I’m staying right here. And, I am keeping my pistol. Anyone tries to come in here and hurt him, or make me leave him, is going to find it very hard to accomplish.”

Dammit girl. She sure is fired up about something.

Deep baritone speaking low, “Nia. I understand. But you have to go home and rest. Get some food into you. I will stay here with him, right by his side, until you get back. I promise.”

Buck. Sounding as genuine as can be.

“Look, Nia, I won’t let anyone get to him. Trust me. Please.”

More words he didn’t quite catch because she was crying.

Then, “Yes darlin’, I will let them know it is MY personal orders. You will come back in the morning, and you’ll be allowed to be armed.”

“How do I know? Are you really going to stay right here and protect him? Please don’t tell me that if you don’t mean it.” She asked pleadingly.

He missed Buck’s reply as he mustered all his willpower and strength, and squeezed the hand holding his.

“OH MY GOD!!!” Nia said loudly. “Get the nurse. He just squeezed my hand.”

Shuffling sounds and a flurry of activity.

Nia asking, “Can you hear me? Tommy? Can you hear me baby?”

Another squeeze.

“Hurry!”

Female voice asking, “Are you sure? Sometimes there are muscle spasms.”

Hands change. Latex glove.

“Mister Gunn.” A slight squeeze from the gloved hand. “Can you hear me?”

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

“Get the doctor. NOW!”

More flurry of activity.

Knock at the thick metal door. Barnes stepped away from watching the muscular younger man doing his work and cracked the door open.

“Sir. He’s awake.” Whispered the man outside.

“Get in here. Finish this up for me. He talks now, or never again.” Barnes quickly instructed before ducking into the hall and heading in a trot for the stairs at the other end. Ripping the gray balaclava off his head.

Twenty minutes later Bob was standing in the ICU, watching a doctor remove the bandages from Tommy’s eyes. A teary-eyed Skye under his arm, wrapped tightly into his side.

“Mister Gunn, keep your eyes closed until I tell you.” The doctor instructed.

Tommy felt the gauze being unwrapped and the pads being lifted off his eyes.

The lights were dimmed, and the doctor told him to open slowly.

In the dim light he saw the young woman and blinked. Blonde with green eyes.

Then to his right, an angel.

“Nia, my heart.” He croaked. Throat sore from the breathing tube they had removed only minutes earlier.

“I’m here Tommy. I’m here my love.” She began to cry and kissed his hand over and over.

“My lips are up here silly.” He told her.

And she leaned in, kissing him softly.

“Get a room you two.” Quipped Tammy happily.

Everyone laughed when Tommy curled the fingers of his right hand, except for the middle one, which he held upright.

“Well, we know he’s still himself.” Tammy sarcastically said.

Tommy held Nia’s hand as he looked around the room.

Nia, Skye, Barnes, Tammy, Buck, Shasta.

“Tia? Mia?” He inquired.

Shasta answered, “Outside in the waiting room with Beth. You remember Beth McMaster?”

Tommy nodded.

“Buck, did you get to them in time? Did they attack...”

Buck spoke up and interrupted, “Everything is fine Tommy. Nobody else got hurt. We can talk about it later.”

Tommy nodded, painfully. His neck was stiff and hurting something awful.

Looking at the green eyed blonde, “Tell me ... about me. What all did I mess up?”

She glanced at Nia and began.

“You’ve been out for Eight days.”

“You broke four ribs. Bruised a lung but no puncture. Concussion, and a big lump on your head. Multiple lacerations and abrasions to your head and face. Hairline fracture to your left humerus, but not a complete break. Left shoulder dislocation.”

She pointed to his left arm.

“We have your left arm paralyzed with anesthetic to keep you from moving it until we can get another MRI. And you’re black and blue over most of your body so we have you on a blood thinner and some antibiotics.”

The young doctor went into ‘teachable moment mode’ and continued, “You are a very very lucky man. I saw the pictures of the wrecked SUV. You could have been killed. That was a very serious accident, and quite needless.”

“We’re keeping you another day or two, and if we don’t find any other problems then you can go home. Likely with a sling and a soft cast for that arm. And a long list of restrictions for the time being.”

Tommy nodded painfully.

“Thank you doctor.”

And she excused herself.

He looked at Nia,

“I’m sorry sweetie. I guess I messed up the wedding plans.”

She squeezed his hand and said seriously, “I’m just glad you are still here to apologize so we can reschedule.” And she leaned over him and kissed his face all over.

He hugged her to him with his good arm.

He spoke over her shoulder.

“Buck. Bob. Wanna tell me what I missed?”

“Some of it.” Bob said flatly. “But I’ll fill you in later on what we can’t discuss here.”

Buck nodded.

Tommy quickly related how he had construed the comment of the thug to mean there was also an attack planned on Shasta’s place, and he had took off to see about Shasta, Tammy, and the girls.

He recalled missing how close he was to the dip in the road, his high speed, going airborne, and the initial impact.

His description of the ‘nose down’ landing and the aftermath was the missing link to what followed.

Barnes told the rest of the story.

Tommy’s SUV had sailed 77 feet. Then impacted almost vertical, squarely on the front grill. It rolled end-over-end five times, landed its wheels, and plowed another 80 feet off the roadside, through a fence, and into some thick brush.

They got lucky Barnes had chosen the Huey. If they hadn’t been in the chopper, the SUV would not have been visible from the road.

The pilots and the unit medic helped him extricate Tommy. Treated his wounds. Splinted and stabilized him prior to takeoff.

He was unconscious all the way to the Hospital.

Nia was right there after her initial fainting spell, and had been a rock. She even helped with his emergency care during the flight.

It was determined that Skye was in some degree of shock from the time Nia had roused her from her bed until well after they got Tommy to the hospital, but she was also very helpful.

Buck had diverted from going to Shasta’s initially but was advised by Bob that they were taking off within minutes. He continued to Shasta’s and found all to be clear and safe.

He drove Shasta and the girls to the hospital, and Tammy followed them in her car.

Bob had found Tommy’s pistol and phone, and Nia had immediately taken possession of them. She had kept both and refused to surrender either.

She had also stayed at Tommy’s side for the entire time he was out. Refusing to leave even to go down to the cafeteria and eat.

The next day, Monday, Barnes and his agents were joined by local Police and the Sheriff’s Deputies in an all-out sweep of the Chupacabras. Sixteen of them were picked up and were taken into custody by the Federal task force on charges of Domestic Terrorism.

They were currently being held in ‘an undisclosed facility’ awaiting transfer to Gitmo.

Tommy shot Bob a look and he slightly nodded, affirmatively, at the unasked question.

Meanwhile, everyone had been worried sick about Tommy.

His injuries were deemed mild by the doctor, given the severity of the crash. But his head injury had caused him to remain unconscious for eight days.

And here they were. Hospital ICU. Tuesday morning. Eight days after the crash. Three days past his and Nia’s wedding date.

Tommy looked sorrowfully at Nia.

“Baby I’m so very sorry. I messed up all our plans. Your plans.”

She shook her head. “No sweetie. We’re already married in my heart. We just missed doing the government paperwork, a ceremony, and a party. We can still do all that later.”

“Besides, the plans are still good. Except for a couple more changes.”

He looked at her, worried and puzzled. “What changed now? You backing out on me?”

She almost popped him on the arm but stopped just shy of making contact.

“No silly. We just have a TRIPLE ceremony planned out now.”

He looked at the others. Both Tammy and Skye held up their left hands.

Tammy wore a gorgeous multi diamond engagement ring that had been Buck’s grandmothers.

Skye now wore a simple ¼ carat solitaire, set in a simple thin gold band.

Both Buck and Bob were grinning like they just won the super bowl.

“Well ... Congratulations guys. And ladies.” Tommy said enthusiastically.

After some more talk, Mia and Tia were slipped into the room. Beth also came in.

The girls cried with relief at seeing ‘Uncle Tommy’ awake and talking like his old self.

He only winced once when they got their hugs and kisses as they fawned over him and asked a hundred questions about his injuries and the machines in the room.

Finally, the others decided it was time to head home, Skye and Nia were taken to go get a cleaned up, a nap, and some food. Nia would be returned by Barnes after the clean up.

She kissed him lovingly before reluctantly leaving him for the first time since he was brought in.

Beth stayed with Tommy. Guard duty. And for sort of a chance to have that talk they hadn’t gotten around to.

She plopped in the chair beside his bed, they exchanged small talk and watched the nurse tend to his trappings until she left and they were finally alone.

She tucked her leg underneath her and sat kinda sideways. Her tight denim jeans didn’t cause her the least trouble in doing so due to her powerful muscular legs.

Beth McMaster was a real natural beauty. She never wore makeup and never needed to.

Light brown hair, nice tan, expressive Hazel eyes. And a smile that could melt your heart. She also had an intense stare that had caused many much larger men to doubt their bravado.

She was 31 years old. 5’5”, 125 lb, measuring 38D – 22 – 32.

She had a youthful and very firm rounded ass, and fit toned legs.

Her arms and shoulders were very muscular from her constant workouts on the weight machines, and she was still flexible due to her martial arts training.

He knew she competed in the top tier of the annual arm wrestling contest, as well as several smaller matches during the year.

She was single, but rumors abounded.

Tommy knew that she had a steady ‘partner’. A local girl who had been head cheerleader in the day, and still looked like an escapee from a Playboy magazine centerfold shoot.

“So tell me what you have been up to Beth. We haven’t really talked in several years.”

Beth took a deep breath and blew it out. Her ample breasts rising and falling under her thin t-shirt. The sports bra didn’t do much to hide the stiff thick protrusions that poked out with authority, and she didn’t give two shits who did or didn’t see them or like it.

The short sleeves were stretched tight on her bulging upper arms, and the shirt accented her thick shoulder muscles.

Tommy surmised her arms were bigger than his.

“Well, I was recruited pretty hard by the old Chief and finally gave in. I went to the academy four years ago. Been working with P.D. ever since.”

She was going to stop at that, but Tommy’s expectant stare caused her to finally roll her eyes and continue.

“After college, I moved to Austin. Worked in several little dives slinging drinks and trying to make it as a singer. After too many open mike nights, and failed attempts at attracting the eyes of a scout, I tried Nashville for a couple years.”

She rolled her eyes, “That was a huge disappointment and waste of time.”

“Moved back to Austin and did the local ‘house band’ thing for a while longer. Got my black belt and worked the door to a larger club for several years. Then moved back here six years ago, right after mom passed.”

She looked sad as she continued.

“Competed in some fight tournaments, competed in some arm-wrestling competitions, and helped dad in the store.”

“Then when dad passed almost two years to the day after mom, I sold the parts store to another NAPA franchisee and banked the money.”

“A year later, I graduated the academy. And the rest is history.”

Tommy chuckled and winced from the pain.

“And Lisa? You two still together?”

Beth looked at him sharply, immediately on the defense, then softened as she remembered it was him asking.

It was a natural reaction in this small town, where the two girls were frowned upon and given a lot of grief on a regular basis.

“Yes. We are.”

She smiled. “And thank you for that. You’re about the only person in this county who cares enough to genuinely ask me that.”

He nodded sadly. “I always cared about you. No matter what. I hope you know that.”

“Of course I do.”

She looked at him and her eyes misted. “You, Ken, and Tammy were my only refuge you know. You guys let me hang out with you when everyone else treated me like a pariah. If not for you, I think I would have quit school and run away from home, and this crap town. You guys made my life bearable.”

“You did run away.” Tommy snorted.

She laughed, “Correction. I graduated two years early by taking summer classes, and then left here to go to college. Getting a scholarship and going to A&M at the same time as you went for your ‘farmer degree’ was just a wonderful coincidence.”

Tommy quickly retorted, “Farmer Scientist Degree. Thank you very much.”

She laughed and got a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Does Nia know we were roommates in college for two years?”

He looked at her and grinned.

“No. She does not.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. To which he replied, “But we can tell her when she gets back if you want.”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. Bet that would go over like a lead balloon.”

He said to her seriously, “You don’t know my Nia. She wouldn’t care.”

“And I don’t WANT her to care. She’s changed a lot recently. She scares me a little now.” Beth retorted.

He laughed and then turned serious.

He asked her, “You ever regret our time living together? I mean, has it ever made people think bad or made life with Lisa hard on you?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not a single regret, but I never told anyone else either. Just Lisa. None of their business if they weren’t there with us.”

Then she shrugged. “But I haven’t hid it. No reason to.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. A painful act with all the cuts and scabs.

“I’m serious.” She laughed. “We were ROOM MATES, not lovers. It’s not that big a deal really.”

She took on a serious look. “Sure, I told Lisa. She and I share a lot of personal stuff I’d never tell anyone else about.”

He nodded. “So she’d be okay around me? No weird vibes or anything?”

“Of course not. Why would she?” Beth replied.

“I told her EVERYTHING Tommy. And she had never said anything other than how she thought it was really great that I had someone to give me support and help.”

She looked into his eyes, “And you did you know. I never would have made it without you. In fact, I might not even be here right now. I was still pretty fucked up ya know. Even after escaping all the shit back here.”

Tommy just said, “You were my friend. I loved you. Still are, and still do. There was never a chance it was gonna be any different than it was.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. She said softly, almost a whisper, “Yes. We are friends. And I love you too Tommy. Now and forever.”

Shaking her head, and taking a drink of her Dr. Pepper, she glanced at the nurses station and got all serious.

“Can I share a big personal secret with you Tommy? Just between us?”

He nodded.

“We want a child. Been working with a firm in Austin to adopt, but things are dragging. I’m afraid they aren’t real keen to our family dynamic.”

He smiled. “Sounds like a fine idea to me. You’d make a great mom.”

Then with a smirk, “Or dad.”

She almost didn’t stop herself from slapping his arm. As they both laughed, Tommy winced in pain from his ribs again.

Beth looked at him appraisingly, a silly thought flashed through her head.

She shook it off and chided him, “Laugh it up buddy. See. Serves you right for making gay jokes at my expense.”

He said, “Sorry darlin. I couldn’t resist.”

She got thoughtful. Then sorta sad.

“You know, I was pretty pissed off at you. And really hurt. I cried off and on for almost a year. It truly broke my heart.”

He asked, “Over what?”

“Well,” she said, “Rumors had started flying around. The word had it that you’d turned bad. They said that you’d taken to doing work along the border. Engaging in some truly less-than-legal enterprises and activities.”

She looked at him sincerely.

“I didn’t believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. Took up for you, a LOT. Then after I went to the P.D., I checked NCIC regularly. The records started showing some pretty harsh things. And even though people said it was irrefutable ‘government’ stuff, I still didn’t want to believe it.”

“But it got so bad I finally had to accept what the records were showing.”

She was almost crying now.

“I couldn’t stand it Tommy, it killed a part of my soul. But I had no choice. I had to believe the official reports. What with no word from you to say otherwise.”

He looked at her seriously, “I’m truly sorry about that Beth. I hope you understand that it’s not that I didn’t trust you, it’s just all of the serious dangers involved. I couldn’t jeopardize my undercover status. Too many people round me would have been put in danger.”

He gestured around the room, “This right here should be enough of an example of what I mean when I say that.”

She rolled her eyes.