Chapter 16

Roger and Bwana followed Fernandez and Gonzalez outside the Border Patrol Office on Swan Road – a swarm of news vans and reporters awaited them. They spent the next hour answering the reporters and then made their escape with Gonzalez to the chopper awaiting them. They were accompanied by six more Border Patrol agents. To get the bodies back, thought Roger.

‘I’d rather face twenty hostiles barehanded than go through that again,’ grumbled Bwana as he belted himself in the chopper.

‘What, and lose the chance to be known all across the country as the baddest man not to be crossed?’ Roger grinned at him. Bwana gave him the finger and leaned forward to guide Gonzalez and the pilot, not that any directions were required, since they had coordinates to all the locations.

The chopper settled down at the same place that it had picked them up from, outside the canyon – that was the closest the chopper could get. Forty-five minutes later, as the sun was casting long shadows in the stillness of the canyon, they reached the bodies. What was left of them.

A few vultures lazily flew away as they approached, and Bwana shooed away the last coyote. Gonzalez went over the seven bodies again and discovered nothing – Roger and Bwana had handed over all that they had collected from the bodies. Gonzalez produced a camera and took several photographs of the bodies and the 5Clubs markings on all of them. He took a few other photographs of the surroundings and then beckoned to his agents. They’d brought large black body bags with them and in a short while had all the bodies wrapped. The six agents paired up and carried the bodies back to the chopper.

‘Might be quicker if we helped,’ Bwana murmured.

‘Not his fault. Blame his folks. They brought him up to never be idle, not even for a few seconds,’ Roger sighed, addressing the air, and followed Bwana.

An hour later, the bodies were stacked in the chopper, and Bwana led the way to the remaining bodies a hundred yards away. There was a risk that the gang would send more bandits to check on the missing, and Bwana and Roger were alert, but they were the only ones moving in the ravine. Other than the shadows.

Gonzalez approached the fallen women first and circled around them, his camera working rapidly. He knelt in silence next to one of the bodies, the woman who had been felled by the bandit’s rifle, and noted her deformed head. His face was grim when he arose, and looking over at Roger and Bwana, he uttered a silent thank you.

Roger didn’t know if that was for helping the agents or for taking care of the bandits. It didn’t matter. He pointed silently to the coyote lying in the distance, his chest punctured by Bwana’s knife.

Once Gonzalez had snapped away to fill his memory card, they placed all the bodies in the chopper, taking more care with the victims.

Roger turned to the Border Patrol agent once they were done. ‘We can hoof it from here to our camping ground and recover our gear.’

‘And how’ll you get back?’

‘The way we usually do. Hoofing it and hitching rides whenever we can,’ drawled Bwana.

Gonzalez shook his head. ‘The least we can do is help you recover your gear and get you back to Tucson.’

‘It’s about three miles away from here–’

‘That’s nothing. We’ve walked longer and in harsher conditions, and sometimes under bandit fire.’ Gonzalez laughed and signaled to his men to follow them.

Bwana shrugged and led the way. The canyon was now throwing longer shadows as the sun began its daily descent. They moved with care, not disturbing the silence of the surroundings, keeping a sharp lookout for other bandits or any seek-and-destroy mission by 5Clubs. But other than the towering walls looking down at their insignificant forms, and the occasional wildlife, they encountered no one.

Probably realized discretion is the better part, thought Bwana, of the rest of the gang.

They found their camp near Pena Blanca Lake, in the thicket, undisturbed except for their pots and pans in disarray.

‘Birds and wildlife,’ surmised Roger and set about packing them up.

They always travelled light – just their camping gear and their weapons – and within half an hour, they had turned back to the trail to the chopper.

Ninety minutes later, in Tucson, they helped offload the bodies into anonymous vans. ‘The media is still buzzing, and we don’t want those assholes to follow our vehicles and hence these.’ Gonzalez nodded at the vehicles when he saw Bwana’s raised eyebrows.

‘Dez wants to meet you and wrap things up,’ he continued as he led Bwana and Roger to his Dodge Charger and eased into it with a satisfied grunt. Roger spotted a sticker across the wheel: ‘We Do it For God and Country – And for the A/C too,’ and on cue, Gonzalez turned up the cooling.

‘Thanks for the help, guys,’ Fernandez greeted them when they went to his office. ‘Hopefully we’ll be able to identify the bodies and start working back to how the women got abducted. It should be easier to identify the bandits if they’re from this side of the border. Chances are they’ll have a record. Gonzo, why don’t you do the honors?’

Gonzalez removed the memory disc from his camera and plugged it into a computer that was connected to a projector. He narrated the trail and their activities as he brought all the pictures up on a bare section of the wall.

Fernandez leaned back in his chair once Gonzalez had finished. ‘Gotta cover that section of the canyon more.’

‘We’ve done as much as we can, Dez. That section of the country is laid out so that only two legs can cover it, and we don’t have the manpower to patrol it more often. Which is why those coyotes use it,’ said Gonzalez as he let off frustrated steam and raised his hands heavenwards.

Roger and Bwana silently watched the byplay and then turned to each other with a why’re we still here look.

Fernandez noticed the byplay, and his lips twitched. ‘Yup, I would be getting itchy feet too if I were in your place. Like I said, you guys are well connected, and someone wants to talk to you. Apparently you guys have turned off your phones or they’ve run out of juice, and hence my office is the only place to make contact with you.’

Bwana and Roger simultaneously reached into their shirt pockets and dug out their phones.

Roger was first off the mark. ‘Ran out of battery. You know who called?’

The phone rang, stilling Fernandez’s reply. He lifted it, grunted in it, and handed it over to Roger.

‘Get your butts over here,’ came Broker’s baritone. ‘I swear, the moment I leave your side, you guys end up in trouble.’

Roger grinned broadly. ‘Aye, aye, sir. As soon as we book our flight.’

‘If you head over to the JetBlue desk, you’ll find a couple of tickets for you and that worthless friend of yours.’

Roger looked over at Bwana and mouthed, He called you worthless.

‘Forgive him, My Lord. He knows not what he does. Or says,’ mumbled Bwana.

Fernandez started drumming his desk loudly, which was the cue for Roger to hang up and stand up.

‘We’ll be on our way now. Thank you for helping us recover the gear.’

Fernandez waved his thanks away and walked with them outside the office, where Gonzalez revved up the Charger to drop them off at the airport.

Gonzalez clapped his hand on Roger’s shoulder. ‘Watch your backs, guys. 5Clubs are not to be taken lightly, and chances are, they’ll be seeking to get even.’

Bwana looked sideways at him with a face granite could be sharpened on. ‘We’re counting on that.’