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Tino raised his Glock to shoot the brute, Manny, strangling Isabella and was struck from behind. The force flung his weapon into the air and his body into the limo. Someone shoved his nose into the plush carpet and a knee into the middle of his back.
Fear for Isabella had blown his cover. No longer having to keep up pretenses, he struggled to turn his head to catch a glimpse of her. They couldn’t be separated. He had to keep her safe. Relaxing, hoping the rata on his back would ease up, Tino slowly breathed in and out and listened. More people entered the car. A female voice, not Isabella’s. Several male voices, some grunting. It was a stretch limo with more space in the back than most.
“Go!” Garza ordered.
¡Coño! He hadn’t had the chance to give Rico the evidence on him that could get him shot before he could help Isabella. How had the drug lord known they would be at Salón España? Only he, Isabella, and Rico... ¡Coño! Was Rico in Garza’s pocket? Was that why it had taken so long to get in good with Garza?
As all the facts started piling up in his head, Tino slowly worked the arm underneath him into his shoulder holster. He had to rid himself of the remote and key.
“Manny, why did you make her blackout? I have questions for her.” Karyme’s shrill tone, so unlike her usual calm, bordered on hysterical.
The question gave Tino the hope Isabella was still alive.
“Karyme. Pull yourself together. I will deal with traitors in my own way.” Garza’s business-like tone told Tino all he needed to know. Both he and Isabella would soon be dead if he didn’t think of something.
The little cloth package he’d worked out of the holster was now under him. He pushed his hand along the floor using his body as a shield and shoved the cloth along until it was under his chin. He moaned and pushed his torso off the ground while shoving the cloth, remote, and key between the seat and the wall. A knee came down hard in the middle of his back, knocking the air from his lungs. Black circles spiraled before his eyes and he blacked out.
~*~
Isabella moved her fingers over her neck. She could barely swallow, like something was tied around her neck. “Stop pounding,” she tried to say, but it only came out as a whisper and made the pounding increase. The pounding was in her head. Which ached. Hard cold ground supported her curled form. With incredible effort she forced her eyes open one at a time. The flicker of candlelight made ghostly shadows ripple on the wall.
Where am I? Stealing past the pain in her head, she pieced together what she could remember. Bastante had her at gunpoint...Alphonso was a traitor...she scrambled over the statue in the tunnel. Her heart warmed and sped up. Tino found her...they kissed and were headed to meet Rico...Her heart flash froze remembering the feel of the gun in her ribs and Tino’s hate-filled eyes. Her first instinct was he betrayed her, but in her heart, she knew that wasn’t true.
How had she been so foolish to drag Tino into a mess she’d created because of her curiosity and blind faith in justice? What did he think of her? Was that hostile glare how he felt about her?
This whole assignment she’d put her trust in all the wrong people. Tears burned down her cheek and pooled at her shoulder on the hard floor. Pushing to a sitting position, she sniffed back the tears and waited for her head to stop throbbing from the exertion. The transmitter in her watch would bring WIA, but she had to make sure she stayed alive long enough they didn’t show up and find only her body.
Nausea swirled in her stomach, but she fought it off. She leaned her back against the wall and surveyed her surroundings. It appeared to be a tunnel or underground chamber. There was one lit torch in a holder high on the wall. Something in a dark corner of the chamber moved. A groan echoed through the closed-in space.
She wasn’t alone. Hope spiraled in her chest. Could it be Tino? Despair stomped on her hope. Would he even want to see her after the mess she’d made?
From the guttural moan, the person was physically worse off than her. But having been duped so many times lately, she’d keep silent and wait for the person to come around. That would give her time to come up with a plan. Slowly, to not start the pounding again, she slid her back up the wall and stood. Breathing deeply, she ignored the round of nausea.
Isabella stepped cautiously—making no sound—along the length of her wall, pivoted to the left, and walked along that wall. There wasn’t a door to this room. How could that be?
A glance over her shoulder at the mound on the far wall confirmed no movement. Was the opening near the other occupant? She wished Tino hadn’t suggested she take off her vest. The garment had fallen from her arm when someone grabbed her and—she put a hand to her throat—choked her. Tears burned behind her eyes. Crying wouldn’t get her out of here nor change her bad judgment.
Another moan, this time louder, bounced around the small area. There was something vaguely familiar about the tone. Was this someone she knew?
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Isabella quietly crossed the floor and stood over the groaning person. Dark patches on the clothing and the iron tang of blood in the air revealed the person was badly hurt.
She dropped to her knees and touched a shoulder. It was muscular. She tugged on the shoulder and the body rolled to its back. Tino’s bloody, puffy face flopped into the flickering torch light. She inhaled. Her actions did this to him. Guilt stabbed her insides, causing sharp pain. Would he forgive her? Memories of his tender kisses and words of endearment surfaced.
It was up to her to get them out of here. If he didn’t want to see her after they were free, she’d have to live with that. This whole assignment she’d gone rogue and that rashness had caused them to be awaiting death.
She leaned close to his ear. “Tino, it’s Isabella.”
He tried to mumble, but she shushed him and stroked the one place on his face that wasn’t bloody or swollen. “I’ll find a way out of here. I promise.” Isabella bit her lip to keep from crying. Her impulsive actions had caused the man she loved pain. She should have listened to him and got on the plane as soon as she’d figured out how the artifacts were stolen.
Tino’s hand dug at his shirt. She grasped his hand to still his motions and felt more than his skin under the clothing. Raising his shirt, she spied what looked like her vest. How could she have not listened to a man who was so skilled? Tears burned the back of her eyes. His quick thinking would get them out even if it was her handiwork. She kissed Tino soundly on his puffy lips.
“I don’t know how you got this, but we’ll get out now.” She pulled the vest out and slipped into it. “Rest,” she said and with her LED light in hand, began a thorough search of the chamber. There had to be a way in and out. On her hands and knees, she crawled along the walls and found what she was looking for. The crack between the floor and the wall was larger. This had to be the opening. It was on the wall opposite Tino and the same as the torch.
She couldn’t reach the handle of this light source to snuff it out and conserve it for later if her flashlight gave out. By the dimming glow and charred remains she’d only have an hour more of light from that source. That was if their captors didn’t come back in the meantime.
This wasn’t a time to second guess. Every move had to be made with logic. She was their only hope of getting out and there was no way she’d allow her bad choices to bring about Tino’s demise. She reached into her vest pocket and pulled out her first aid kit. Extracting three ibuprophen tablets she crossed to Tino.
“I found the way out, but it might take me a bit to find the trigger to open the door.” She raised his head, pushing the tablets between his swollen lips. “These will take the edge off the pain. I’m sorry they beat you up.” A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed, holding back the tears burning behind her eyeballs. “I’m also sorry I didn’t listen to you and get on a plane. This—” she waved her arm to encompass Tino and the room, “—is all my fault. If you never want to see me again once we get out—”
Tino barely moved his head and his hand touched hers. She peered into his eyes. The dark blue orbs held pain but no recrimination.
She turned her lips up into a smile as her heart raced. He didn’t hate her. “We aren’t going to let them win.” Isabella pulled a small flask from a vest pocket. From the meager sloshing, there would barely be enough water to wash the pills down. The flask touched Tino’s lips and he opened, allowing the measly drops of water into his mouth.
Isabella gently settled his head back on the floor. “Rest, so you can walk out of here when I get the door open.” She started to rise. Tino caught her wrist. His fingers didn’t dig in, they held her gently.
“Get...out...you.” His hand fell away, but his eyes focused on her. The earnestness in their dark depths brought back her nauseous state.
“Rest. We’ll discuss this later.” There was no way she was leaving him behind. Not when this whole mess was her fault.
She dropped to her knees at the crack she’d found and pulled out her survival tin. Ever since discovering a video on how to make a survival tin, she never left Tucson without one. The lid flipped up revealing all the items she needed to get her and Tino out of here. Bypassing the several yards of nylon string, two magnetized sewing needles, a Fresnel magnifier, safety pins, and two feet of aluminum foil folded into a small square, she picked up one of the X-Acto knifes and used a piece of the folded-up duct tape to secure the blade to her journal pencil.
With finesse, she slid the blade into the crack and gently ran it along the floor and then up the side. This would discover the size of the door. She didn’t like forcing the blade along the crack, so she eased it out to where the tip of the blade glided along easily. On her tiptoes, she followed the crack as high as she could reach, praying the latch wasn’t higher than the length of her arms. Dropping to her knees, she started across and up the other side of the door.
She stepped back and ran the beam of her LED light along the faint line that now defined the door. There had to be a latch along one of the sides. Switching off the light, she flipped open the tin and pulled out the ten feet of twenty-four-gauge snare wire looped around the inside.
Like threading a needle, she poked one end of the snare wire into the seam at shoulder height. Using a sawing motion, she worked the wire down the seam line. The wire slid back and forth all the way to the floor. A moan from the other side of the room pushed her on. Tino would live, and they would spend the rest of their lives together.
“He promised, and I’m not going to let him renege,” she mumbled.
Isabella crossed to the other side of the door and threaded the wire in at shoulder height and began the downward sawing. A foot down the wire caught.
Exaltation bubbled in her chest. She wanted to shout, Hallelujah, but feared rousing their captors or scaring Tino. He’d watched her motions in the beginning until his eyes slowly closed. She hoped the mild pain pills had helped him rest.
The easy part had been finding the latch. Now she had to figure out how to trigger it. Using the X-Acto blade she dug divots in the door where she discerned the latch to be. Once she’d dug several divots spaced three inches apart, she pulled the survival tin from her pocket and plucked out a small signal mirror. It wasn’t as sharp as the blade but was larger and could dig at the stone in wider grooves.
The torch light grew dimmer, but she didn’t want to waste the battery in her flashlight. She glanced over her shoulder at Tino. He remained in the same position she found him in. Staring hard in the dim light, she saw his chest rise and fall. There was little she could do for his condition other than the pills she provided and getting him out of here.
When the torch sputtered out, she continued carving until the scraping sound changed pitch. Isabella fumbled in her tin for matches and a one-inch candle. She lit the candle and held it up to where she’d continued working in the dark. The flame reflected on a piece of metal one inch wide.
She placed the candle on the small ledge carved in the stone and began chiseling the limestone away from the metal bar. The mirror caught on something. Her spirits soared at the discovery of a nut on the end of a bolt. That had to be the handle on the other side that opened the latch. Placing the mirror against the bolt, she pounded on the edge with the tin. Millimeter by excruciating millimeter the bar moved. Lifting her arm for one more blow on the mirror, she felt the huge rock door swing away from her.
With shaking fingers, she replaced the items into her tin by waning candlelight. She peered into the darkness toward Tino. She’d wait to disturb him until she had an idea of what was on the other side of the door.
Isabella pushed on the door and peered through the crack. Light shone in the same undulating pattern as in this room. More torches. Where were they? Listening, the silence gave her pause. Were they completely alone? Had they been left here to die? Why would the Garzas make a scene of taking her and Tino in front of the Salón España then dump them here?
None of this made sense.
Giving the door another shove, she stepped into a chamber larger than their prison. Tremors goose pimpled her skin. A carving of Huitzilopochtli killing his sister Coyolxauhqui could only mean this room was set up for human sacrifice. The red coloring on the five steps up to a raised dais with two chairs sent her scurrying back into the smaller chamber.
“Tino, can you stand? We have to get out of here, they plan...” She couldn’t say what she saw as their end if she didn’t get them out of here. She’d been a sacrifice victim before and didn’t plan on having it happen again.
“Tino?” She pulled on his arm and he moaned. “We have to go, now.”
“Save yourself.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“No. I’m not leaving here if you don’t come with me.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You promised me a future, and I’m not letting you back out.” She hauled him up to a sitting position. “We may not get far, but if we can hide until help comes, that’s better than sitting here waiting for the Garzas to return and use us for a sacrifice.”
Tino groaned and shoved to his feet. His body hurt all over. He’d wondered why señora Garza called off Manny before the sadist slit his throat. Now it became clear. She planned to use him as a sacrifice victim. His mind was moving even if his body was having a hard time remaining upright.
He pressed his puffy lips to Isabella’s hair. She should leave him. She could move faster without him. “Go,” he said hoarsely and tried to push from the arms locked around his middle.
“No! I’m not leaving you here.”
His lips hurt as a smile tried to form. She was one strong and loco woman. He’d heard her muttering as she worked. About his promise and he was going to live up to it. Her determination and his knowledge would get them out of this. Together they would survive. “Then hurry.”
He felt her urgency as they left the small chamber and stepped into the larger room. His gaze landed on the red stairs leading up to the chairs. This didn’t fit the Garza he knew. The man was greedy and wanted the power of a drug lord, but he’d never figured the man for a zealous fanatic that would re-enact human sacrifices. His instincts about people were rarely wrong.
“Hurry.” Isabella half carried him through the larger chamber to a doorway.
Through the doorway a tunnel ran both right and left. Fear gripped him. Which was worse; staying and trying to outwit their captors or becoming lost in a maze of tunnels?
“Querida, this is not good.”
“Shhh, I need to listen.” She cocked her head, and he felt her breathing slow and become imperceptible. “This way.” She turned them to the right.
“How?’ he whispered.
“I paid attention when the traitor Alphonso led us through the tunnels. This direction is off the old tunnel because you can’t hear the sound of water. The new tunnels drip and slosh.”
“Why the old tunnel?” As he moved, his bruised muscles slowly eased and warmed.
“It’s drier and the signs are easier to read.” When total darkness folded around them, she clicked on a flashlight. They shuffled along, with him gaining a little more balance and strength as they continued. A tunnel loomed to the left. Isabella leaned him up against the wall and ran her hands along the right side. Using a corner of her vest she scrubbed at a spot and nodded.
It hurt to smile but he couldn’t stop the upward motion of his lips knowing his grabbing the vest she found so comforting had gotten them out of another tough spot. He’d received two more kicks for falling on the vest and not getting up until he’d shoved it under his own shirt. Manny was so set on inflicting pain he didn’t notice the vest was no longer on the floor where Karyme had tossed it after taking Isabella’s journal. He made a mental note to get the book back. It held everything important to Isabella.
“We are not far from the Garza’s house. They must have built those two chambers believing no one would ever be walking around down in the old sewer.”
“Can you get us away? Some place safer.” He was in no shape to ward off any attackers. The need for revenge of his family disappeared when he saw Manny choking Isabella. She was alive, and he was going to keep her that way, so they could have a life together.
“If I have the streets memorized correctly, we can keep straight on this line and we should come out close to the Marriott.” She shoved up under his right arm pit like a crutch and they started down the tunnel.
“We must get out of here to some place safe. I believe there is more going on here than drugs and stolen artifacts.” His senses also believed Garza was being played by many of the people around him. If Hadda was his daughter, she too, could be in danger. So many people were depending on him and he could barely put one foot in front of the other.