Chapter 2

I guess there can be a lot of reactions to a scream. Not that there is only one best. There are many different kinds of screams. This was not one of joy, passion or even rage; it was fear, fright or despair.

Turning the corner into another room, one might have expected the scene in some movie or a backstreet alley in NYC, not dab smack in the middle of Texas.

There were six of them, all big, all mean looking and just a little put off by what the little girl was doing. She held a rag, like her jacket or sweater maybe. By a count of marks and bruises she was ahead 6:2. They each had marks, bleeding marks on their faces, she, one torn blouse and a welt on her cheek.

The kid seemed to be doing pretty good. None were showing a gun or knife. The kid did not seem old enough that rape was their motive, but these days and this close to the border you never know. My guess would have been for a slave or ransom. Nothing gave the impression they wanted to kill the girl.

I probably would have stood back watching the girl sting and whip them silly, she was better than good with that rag. Like I said, she was not only holding her own, she was way ahead on points, that is until two of the bigger men charged her, one taking the hit then grabbing the rag away; the other now held the girl.

If! Yep, if there had been fewer of them, if she had been a man, if running away had been an option I might have done differently. At least that what I tell myself looking back. I hit the 'Help' code on my cell; placed it down and tried to take out the two holding and now slapping the girl. That 'Help' feature was like a group speed call. Emergency(911, etc.), my office watch desk in Dallas and a series of 'special' numbers got called. The speakerphone was on and anyone and everyone could hear the goings on. Yes, it was a Sat phone so it was costing me a might.

I used the modifier, 'tried to take them out'. These were big boys though. I did not know if they were wearing vests and since they had not pulled a gun, I did the only thing any self-respecting Texan could do, I shot them. No not in the head, the knee. That not only slowed them down a might, but they let loose of the girl. I told her to run then turned towards the other four men.

One or two of the 'Special' numbers were to Plano and San Antoine, some 'mentors' who offered to help out from time to time.

I had them 4 quite still at that moment. They were not that far away, but far enough that 2 or 3 of them would taste some lead, in this case either a FMC or jacketed slug from the Glock. There were alternated in the magazine.

When I told the girl to run, I did not mean for her to go to me, stand between them and the gun and place her hand on it. Damn. as she came closer she sure was pretty. "You Son of a bitch!" came out of her mouth as I crumpled to the ground.

That was the last thing I remember before everything went black.

The LEOs must have arrived since somebody had taken me to a hospital. My first thought was to what that phone bill was going to be. A nurse came in about the same time that I saw the covered up shape on a chair in the room. The nurse's call that I was awake must have woken the girl up, I sure as Hell did not hear it, only the bing, bong and a ringing in my ears. A man in a white coat, a cop and a man in a suit all came in. If I could have heard what was being said I might have answered. I did see the man in a suit raise his hand and say something to the cop. He stood then with a very angry look on his face. The girl on the chair was the same girl I had tried to save.

Looking back, I had not done a very good job of that. I should have just head shot all the bastards. It was not till later that I got a little more information.

The man in the suit, I later learned. was there to protect me, both physically as well as to ensure the LEOs did not tear into me before counsel got there. I learned that my mentor in Plano had made a few calls too when he heard what was going on. Add the dozen calls Brooke had made and favours pulled out from who knew where, and WW III could have started with the same effort. I might have had poor luck these last 18 months, but I had some wonderful friends, family friends.