CHAPTER 36

CAL GREW TIRED OF SITTING locked in the tiny office. Kelly slept splayed across the couch, while he sat on one of the couch arms. Jake just stared at the television. Hour after hour of cartoons rolled by on the screen. They seemed like mindless short stories with no real moral. The protagonist was likeable; the antagonist was cruel. The antagonist would almost win and then—BAM!—the protagonist would hit his archrival on the head and escape. If only it were that simple.

Any attempt at hitting Igor over the head would result in getting slapped around. And slapped hard. Maybe even a few cuts. The end result wouldn’t be pretty. This wasn’t a cartoon. This was real life, and Cal needed a real good idea.

* * *

AT SEVEN O’CLOCK, a shift change brought a fresh guard to the repair shop to watch over Hernandez’s three prisoners. Cal had seen the man at Hernandez’s compound. It was Morales.

Morales tapped on the window. Jake looked up and Morales waved at him. Jake’s physical reaction to the sight of Morales made Cal wonder what exactly happened between the two. Jake curled up in a fetal position and started sucking his thumb. Cal tried not to imagine the worst, but something bad had happened between them. That much was evident.

Fumbling with his keys, Morales eventually unlocked the door and slid a bag of burritos into the room along with three water bottles. He then locked the door behind him and sat outside.

Cal ripped open the bag and pulled out a burrito. He offered one to Jake, who continued to pretend like Cal didn’t exist. He decided against waking Kelly. She looked too peaceful and appeared as though she could use the extra rest. Cal scarfed down his portion and thought about his plan.

Another hour went by before Kelly stirred from her nap. Her burrito was cold, but she didn’t seem to care. Cal waited a few minutes until she was awake before he started to share his plan with her.

“I think it just might work,” she said.

* * *

IT WAS 10:30 P.M. and Cal watched Morales stumbling around the shop, clinging to a bottle of tequila. It was almost empty. Cal watched the scene unfold as he hoped it would. Morales looked at the remaining swig in the bottle and swirled it around. It wasn’t even 11 p.m. on a Saturday and he would be all out of liquor without a chance at a refill until the morning.

The loud clanging noise startled Jake. He sat up, still half asleep, and looked traumatized. Morales began overturning tool boxes and pushing over chairs, upset about something.

“Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me!” Jake screamed.

Cal rushed to his chair and knelt down next to him.

“Hey, it’s OK big guy. Nobody is going to hit you. You’re with us now. We’re going to keep you safe,” Cal said, rubbing Jake’s head to reassure him.

Cal tucked a blanket back around Jake and told him to go back to sleep. He then moved to the couch.

“I don’t even want to think about what this monster did to Jake,” Cal whispered.

“Yeah. Whatever it was, it must’ve been bad for him to react like that,” Kelly said.

“It looks like it might be time to put our plan into action.”

Cal reached for the desk drawer where he had seen two bottles of Jose Cuervo. He pulled out one of them and tapped on the glass to get Morales’ attention. Morales ran straight for the office and began pulling out his keys. He struggled to get them in the lock. He was already well on his way to being drunk; Cal hoped to get him all the way there.

Once Morales got the door open, he snatched the bottle from Cal’s hand.

“I guess you’re good for something, gringo.” He then head-butted Cal. He snarled at Kelly before shaking Jake and screaming to wake him.

Jake awoke again, startled at the sight of his tormentor.

Morales cackled at the fear he wrought on his captives. Then he slammed the door shut, causing a picture to fall off the far wall.

“Are you sure getting him more drunk is a good idea, Cal?” Kelly asked, tucking Jake back underneath his blanket.

“Just give it some time. And be ready when I give you the word.”

An hour passed and Morales’ motor skills continued to diminish. He stumbled around the shop, slamming into things. He punched car doors and slurred threats at no one in particular. He even missed his mouth a couple of times while trying to take another drink. He was almost done with the bottle of tequila when he started staring at it like he did the previous one.

Cal shook Kelly, who had been resting.

“It’s almost time,” he said. “Get ready.”

Kelly scooped up Jake in her arms. He didn’t resist, content to remain asleep. Cal marveled at Kelly’s natural ability to nurture. Though Cal was protective of her, he didn’t consider her as fragile. Kelly suspected everyone thought she was fragile when they did things for her, but Cal simply tried to act like a gentleman. Sometimes that meant protecting her. And if she felt that meant he thought she was fragile, Cal didn’t care. But he thought of her more as a rugged, do-it-yourself kind of woman. He had never seen her treat someone so tenderly.

Cal turned his attention back toward the shop where Morales was stumbling around. It was time.

Cal tapped the glass and waved yet another bottle of tequila. This time, Morales lumbered toward him, banging into large objects scattered about the room. Two cars and a large toolbox took the brunt of Morales’ wrecking ball approach to walking. He finally arrived at the door and unlocked it.

Morales stood in the doorway and stuck out his hand for the bottle.

“Gracias, señor,” he said, slurring his words.

Instead of handing Morales the bottle, Cal swung it with all his might, knocking Morales in the head. Morales staggered back and fell onto the ground. Kelly scooped Jake up and headed toward the office door.

“Go! Go! Go!” Cal yelled, putting himself between Kelly and Morales.

Once Kelly cleared the doorway and headed toward the shop exit, Cal began to run after her. Before he could take a second step, he felt a huge hand wrap around his ankle with a death grip.

“Run, Kelly, run!” Cal yelled as he struggled to get free.

Cal’s efforts to escape failed. Morales’ grip was too strong, sending Cal tumbling to the ground. Morales dragged Cal’s body toward him before pinning him down with his knee.

Morales began berating Cal in Spanish while punching him repeatedly in the face. He was so disheveled that he seemed resigned to let Kelly and Jake escape. Instead, he was going to take out his anger on Cal.

* * *

SOLTERBECK’S CELL PHONE BUZZED. It was the FBI answering service.

“Agent Solterbeck, I have a call coming through from Kelly Mendoza. She said it’s urgent and that she needs to speak to you.”

“Yes, let me talk to her.”

The line clicked in.

“Kelly? Are you OK?” Solterbeck asked.

“Yes, I am. I’ve got Jake and he’s fine. But Cal didn’t get away,” she said. Solterbeck could tell she was out of breath.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I’m in Juarez somewhere near our hotel.”

“OK, just get me the cross streets and we’ll have one of our agents come pick you up in 10 minutes. Just sit tight and stay out of sight.”

Kelly gave Solterbeck the cross street names and awaited the extraction team.