Chapter 11

Matt had been rowing for nearly an hour as they carefully, quietly made their way across the bay. They had started with Ronnie and Lisa taking turns with the oars, but they were so clumsy he took over himself. Now he realized he should have had them practice rowing during the day. Forgetting that the people he was in charge of might not have the skills he expected was another mistake Matt would have to remember not to repeat.

Though the moon had set, there was enough starlight to make out the silhouette of Mike's boat leading the way. Like Matt, he too was doing the rowing. Matt followed Mike's boat as they rounded a small headland, then paused.

As he pulled up next to him, "The small beach is just ahead," the big Mexican said in a loud whisper. "Follow me."

Soon, Matt was beaching his dinghy next to that of the other crew on the small slip of beach where Mike, Becky and Donna were waiting for them. "The path's this way," Mike whispered, leading them to the path that wound up the bluff to the back of his home, now occupied by Ortiz.

Matt was behind Mike, then came Ronnie, Lisa, Becky and Donna, all keeping low, walking single file up the steep, winding path. Luckily, the ground was damp enough they didn't need to worry about noise from any stones that might be dislodged.

They paused when they reached the top, lining up with their heads down so they wouldn't be silhouetted against the star-bright sky. They were all dressed in dark clothes, Matt wearing a stocking cap instead of his usual Padres cap. "That's the kitchen door," Mike said, pointing out a door with a faint light shining through the window.

"Okay, everyone knows what to do," Matt whispered to both sides. Then, "Let's go."

Crouching low, Matt and Mike ran to the house, stopping at the halfway point. There, they waited for Ronnie and Lisa to join them. With the two girls covering them with their AR-15s, the men quickly ran to the house.

Their backs to the kitchen's outer wall, they moved to the window. Carefully, Mike peeked in. Turning, smiling, he gestured for Matt to look. A girl, young, pretty, Mexican was sitting at the large wooden table, paging through a fashion magazine, a pistol in front of her on the table, I-Pod buds in her ears.

Matt signaled. Gently, Mike tried the door. He had his keys, but it wasn't locked. In a split second they were inside. They grabbed the girl before she knew they were there, Mike with his big hand over the girl's mouth while Matt bound her hands and feet with duct tape. When she was secure, Matt opened the door and gestured. Soon, they were joined by the four girls with their AR-15s ready.

The girl realized struggle was fruitless. Now, with Mike's hand over her mouth, her wide-open eyes were following their every movement. "Tell her you'll move your hand from her mouth if she promises not to give the alarm," Matt ordered. When Mike translated the command, the girl answered with a nod of her head.

"Where's Ortiz?" Matt asked.

In a low voice. "Señor Ortiz is in the bedroom, with some of his women."

Further questioning revealed there were six women with Ortiz. Others in the house were Pablo, guarding the front door, and two girls with him.

Matt looked at Mike. "That's more than we thought."

"I'm sorry, Comandante," the big man said. "They must have come after dark and we missed them."

"Not your fault," Matt said while Mike duct-taped the girl's mouth.

Matt looked over the small group under his command. He gave his orders in a quiet, confident voice. "Donna, you stay here, guarding her," he ordered, gesturing at the bound girl. "Becky, you'll take up position outside the master bedroom. If Ortiz, or anyone else, comes out, shoot them, shoot to kill. Can you do that?"

Smiling, her eyes bright, "I'll do it, no problem," she answered.

"Okay, you come with me," Matt said, looking at Mike, Ronnie, Lisa and Becky. "We'll take care of Pablo and those girls."

They left Becky in the hall, outside the master bedroom. Slowly, they moved toward the sitting room. Peering around a corner, Matt saw a man, Pablo, dozing in an easy chair by the big front door, his rifle in his lap. The girls were sleeping on two sofas, their rifles on the floor.

After everyone had a look at their enemies, Matt signaled with his hands, and then they moved - fast. Ronnie and Lisa jumped on the girls, while Matt and Mike moved quickly to Pablo. They were on him in seconds. There was a brief struggle, a partial cry from Pablo, which Mike quickly muffled with his meaty hand, and then they were binding him with duct tape. As soon as he was sure Pablo was secure enough, Matt left the remainder of the job to Mike and helped Ronnie and Lisa with the females.

Matt quickly went into the hall to whisper a question to Becky whether there was any reaction from the bedroom to the few sounds that had escaped during the scuffle. She answered with a shake of her head, and he returned to the sitting room. Leaving Lisa guarding the prisoners, they made a quick search to make sure there was no one else in the house, looking out the windows to ensure there were no guards posted outside. The lack of exterior guards again confirmed Matt's estimate of the amateur status of the enemy.

In the kitchen, their voices low, they planned their attack on the bedroom. "With all those girls in there, let's try not to use the shotguns," Matt said.

"We can use them to make them our prisoners," Mike said.

"Okay, I'll go in first with my forty-five in my left hand," Matt said.

"Comandante, you are too valuable. It should be me first," Mike said.

Ronnie argued she should be first one into the bedroom, but Matt silenced all objections with a gesture. "I can fire with either hand, so I'll go first with my forty-five while Mike covers me. I'll turn on the lights. Mike, you said the switch is on the right side. You," indicating Ronnie, "and Becky stay in the hall, covering us through the doorway." To Mike, "As soon as we enter, move out of the doorway, to the left, I'll move to the right. Once we've got Ortiz covered, we'll grab and secure him with duct tape. Okay, let's go."

In the hall, Matt whispered brief orders to Becky. The two girls moved back from the bedroom doors, their rifles pointed at the door, ready to fire if needed. Mike had his keys, but as they were coming to expect, the doors weren't locked.

There were two big, carved wood doors, opening out. Matt and Mike each put a hand on one of the brass door handles. At Matt's nod, they pulled the doors open and burst into the room.

As Matt switched on the overhead light with his right hand, there were screams and a rush of confused movement from the room's inhabitants. Matt saw Ortiz with two girls in the big bed, others on the floor looking up, their eyes dazed by the suddenly bright light. "Don't move! Hands up!" Matt yelled in English, Mike repeating the command in Spanish, his shotgun pointed at Ortiz.

But when they crashed into the room, they didn't notice the girls sleeping on the carpet. Suddenly, hearing a grunt, Matt turned to see Mike go down as one of the girls on the floor knocked his legs out from under him. Simultaneously, Ortiz went for his pistol on the bedside table.

Then Matt nearly fell, his body pitching to the side, when another girl pulled his legs nearly out from under him. Ortiz fired, the sound of his shot echoing through the room. Matt reeled back, his chest burning as he felt a bullet graze him.

Kicking the girl away, Matt turned, raising his forty-five, firing, seeing Ortiz's head dissolve in a spray of crimson.

His ears ringing from the sound of gunfire, Matt leaned back against the wall. He saw the girls on the bed covered in blood and bone fragments and worse, sobbing loudly, their hands covering their eyes. The room was filled with the sounds of screams, crying, and one voice, from the floor "Oh, Matthew. No sabía que es tú."

Ronnie and Becky rushed in. "Oh Matt, at least you're alive," Ronnie said, her eyes filling with tears, pushing him onto the bed. Becky handed her the first aid kit. Ronnie cut open Matt's shirt and t-shirt, exposing the wound. Looking down, Matt saw a scarlet slash crossing his chest, blood pouring out.

Mike had his shotgun on Ortiz's girls, lining them up against the wall. The two naked girls from the bed, covered in blood, were crouched on the floor, sobbing, apparently unable to move any further.

"I'm a doctor, I can help," one of the girls said in nearly perfect English.

Like Ortiz's other girls, she was wearing only a t-shirt and panties. She was tall, very slender and didn't look like she could be more than twenty years old.

Ronnie spoke to her in Spanish, questioning her qualifications. She answered in English, looking at Matt. "Sir, I am twenty-six, and I am truly a physician."

"Okay," Matt said. "We... I can use a doctor." With a quick smile, the doctor moved to sit next to Matt and began examining his wound.

"Matthew, Doctor Marie is a very good doctor," he heard one of the girls say in English.

He looked at the girl, seeing a face that seemed familiar. Then he knew. "You can't be... you're Melissa, Clarita's daughter, aren't you?"

"Si... Yes, Oh Matthew," she cried. "Finally I've found you," moving to him, gently hugging his right side, the side the doctor wasn't working on.

Matt looked at Melissa, the elder daughter of his ex-wife, his last ex-wife. Two years ago she was a chubby fourteen year old, today she was a shapely young woman. "Where's Pilar? How did you end up here?" he asked, but Doctor Marie interrupted, saying they needed to get his bloody clothes off. Melissa moved to the side while the doctor and Ronnie cut off the remnants of his shirt and t-shirt and began applying a pressure bandage. Matt's wound wasn't serious, but it hurt like hell and was bleeding profusely. The pressure bandage took care of the bleeding.

Matt ordered Mike to call the hotel to find out if any of the enemy outside the wall reacted to the gunfire from the house. "No reaction, everything looks quiet," Mike reported. "Also, they couldn't hear any gunfire at the hotel. Sir, Marina is begging to speak with you. They are very worried that you have been wounded."

"Tell her I'm okay. I'll call them in a few minutes. Now, is there a shirt around here that'll fit me?"

Mike left the room to find a shirt for Matt. Doctor Marie asked if she could bring her bag from the sitting room. "We'll move everyone there," Matt said, wincing from the pain as he stood, looking at the dead man. "No need to stay here with what's left of Ortiz."

They were joined in the sitting room by Donna and her prisoner from the kitchen. Matt allowed the two girls from Ortiz's bed to shower, with Donna and Becky watching them. He ordered that the three bound female prisoners have their restraints loosened so just their hands were bound behind their backs. But he told them that Pablo should remain fully restrained.

Sitting next to him on the sofa, Doctor Marie inspected the dressing. "The bleeding has almost stopped, that is good," she said. "We'll need to clean it later, but that will hold for now." Turning, she took two hypodermics out of her bag. "What are those for?" Matt asked.

"Sir, one is antibiotic, the other is for the pain."

"I'll take the antibiotic, but just give me some pills for the pain. I don't wanna take a chance on being knocked out."

Mike brought one of his son's shirts, blue denim. The size was okay, but it was a little difficult for Matt to put on with his wound.

Matt and Mike went into the kitchen to discuss how they would handle the change in plans now that Ortiz was dead. Finally, "We'll just have to go down there without Ortiz," Matt said. "We'll make sure our people on the wall are ready to back us up if we need it, and I think we might."

Mike dialed the hotel and handed him the phone. At first Matt had to answer questions from Marina, Christina and Bree. "I'm okay. It's a minor wound, just a graze. And we've got a doctor now. She's taking care of me."

"We, all of us, we're so worried about you, Matt. We just wish we could be with you," Bree said, her voice husky.

"I'm okay, and I'll be with you, all of you, soon," Matt answered, his voice reasurring. "Now I need to talk to Marina and Steve."

They came on the phone and discussed with Matt how to handle the change in strategy. Their original plan had called for capturing Ortiz, then have him tell his forces to surrender. "We'll just have to do it without Ortiz" Matt said. "There might be more of a chance his forces will resist since we don't have him. I want all our riflemen on the wall.

"We'll take the prisoners down to the enemy's rear, let them know Ortiz is finished... dead, and invite them to join us, under my command."

"What if they won't?" Marina asked.

"Then we'll fight. That's why I want all our firepower available. We'll have them between your forces on the wall and mine in their rear. We'll take them out, and if there are any survivors, we'll give them the choice of joining up with us or... well, we'll have to decide later what the or will be."

"Okay, we'll be ready," Marina said.

"Me too," Steve echoed.

"Remember, no shooting unless they fire first," Matt cautioned. "We want to get them to agree to join us, if possible."

Together, Marina and Steve said they understood and would do as Matt ordered. Marina and his other girls shouted, "Be careful... we love you... we miss you," before ending the call.

As they walked back to the sitting room, Matt saw that someone had closed the bedroom doors, hiding what used to be Ortiz from view. In the sitting room, Matt looked at his watch, "We've got a few hours till dawn. We can rest till then."

Matt took a seat on the sofa. Doctor Marie moved next to him to check his wound. "The bleeding has stopped," she said, carefully removing the pressure bandage. "The wound should be cleaned, but that might bring on the bleeding again." She applied antibiotic ointment, then covered the wound with a fresh bandage.

By now the two girls from Ortiz's bed had finished showering and were sitting against the wall with the other prisoners. Matt ordered Donna and Becky to take up guard outside, cautioning them to keep out of sight of the enemy outside the hotel wall. After rebuttoning his shirt, Matt had Pablo brought to him.

The Mexican's hands were secured behind his back with duct tape, his feet bound the same way, so he could only kneel before Matt. With a vicious tug, Mike ripped off the tape covering his mouth.

Pablo was a short, thick man, and he looked even shorter kneeling at Matt's feet. He was in his mid-twenties, Matt estimated, with a broad forehead, black, deep-set eyes, and very dark, very thick, very greasy hair. As Matt fixed his gaze on him, he was trembling visibly, and the odor of his fear was impossible to ignore.

"Why did you join Ortiz?" Matt asked with Mike translating.

"Señor, he said he was destined to be our leader, and... and we needed a leader." Pablo answered, his voice shaky.

"And so you attacked us, who had done you no harm."

Pablo's eyes on the floor. "We had to follow him, obey him, even if sometimes what he did seemed to be not right." Looking up, into Matt's face, "But if you will have me, I would be proud to follow you, sir, to serve you as I served Señor Ortiz... even better and more loyally because I can see you are a better man."