Chapter 6
6
C am anxiously awaited the cartel’s agent that was due to arrive that day. It had only been two days since the men talked about the hospitals, but he knew that time was running out. By now, most of the injuries had been addressed from what Marc had told him in their secure texting communications, but dysentery and cholera were the new culprits. While that would possibly keep Miriam safe due to still being needed, she would be more vulnerable to the diseases herself.
Marc supplied him with more intel and Cam was itching to be able to put it to use. Undercover work in the gang back home had fit him—go slow, get the information he needed no matter how long it took and then take action. This was different. This time there was a real person on the other end of the mission. One who had to be scared. Tired. Maybe even sick or injured herself. And if he was honest with himself…one who was beautiful. He had not kept the picture Jobe had given him. It was too risky to have it on him in case he wa s searched. But he committed her image to memory. Every night when he closed his eyes, he could see her—dark hair…dark, smiling eyes…perfect cupid’s bow mouth.
Rubbing his hand over his face, he forced his attention back to the job at hand. The backbreaking digging and laying pipe. Suddenly the rumble of a truck as it was coming up the mountain resounded through the trees. He watched warily as two men alighted from the vehicle and the other workers stopped what they were doing to move toward them. He followed suit, carefully evaluating the newcomers. Medium build, both with weapons slung over their shoulders casually as though they had been born with a gun in their hands. Probably had. He noticed their eyes roaming over the group and he was careful not to stare, hiding his antagonizing glare.
The men stopped near the hut and Cam watched as they began talking about the crop and the irrigation system. One of them walked over with the head worker and began inspecting the work. Cam heard his name called and he knew that the worker was praising what he had accomplished. With his size, he had been able to dig and lay quicker than the others. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, he acknowledged the nod he received from the agent.
The men, taking a break, moved toward the hut to offer food and drink to the agents—not that they had any to spare but as a show of respect. Perfect. Fuckin’ perfect. Cam deftly added the pills he carried in his pocket to two of the crude cups they were using and handed them to the agents, before handing out water to the others. The hot sun beating down through the limbs of the pine trees above made everyone drink thirstily.
Taking a hefty drink himself, he knew the drugs would have a fast reaction. And he was right. Within ten minutes, the driver began heaving, quickly followed by the agent. The workers jumped up, at first concerned and then fearful.
“What is it?” one of them said, trying to assist the first man.
Cam, pretending to be just as confused, said, “Maybe they’re not used to our water.”
“Will we be blamed?” another frightened worker asked, backing away from the heaving men.
Wanting to place more fear on the situation, Cam adopted a concerned expression as he turned toward the head worker and asked, “Do you think it could be cholera?”
With a gasp, the other workers stepped back. “I got a family,” one said. “Not touching ‘em.”
Cam pretended to work the problem as the workers all backed away, fear in their faces and in their voices. Turning toward them, he said, “We need to do something. We leave them, someone’ll come looking for them and blame us.”
“But what? What can we do?” the head worker asked.
“I’ll take ‘em. In their truck, I’ll take ‘em to the medical camp.”
The others looked dubiously at him and then nervously at each other.
Cam continued, “We leave ‘em here and they die, someone’ll come searching and then it’ll look like maybe we killed them. Or we get sick too.”
The heaving of the two men at his feet punctuated his words.
“Help me load them into the truck, I get them to help and then we’re good. No one’s pissed at us and then I can get back.”
The workers all began to nod. None of them wanted to take the risk, but if the big, newcomer was willing…they were fine with the plan.
Loading the two men into the back of the truck, Cam hopped up into the driver’s seat. Looking at the lead worker, he sent him a questioning look.
“Go down the mountain,” he was told. “When you get to the fork, go left. If you keep following that and take a left at any fork, then you’ll come to the nearest compound I know. It’ll be about twenty miles away. I’ve…I’ve never been but that’s what I’ve heard. There should be a doctor there.”
Nodding, Cam started the engine and headed the truck down the mountain. Finally, I’m making progress!
With the two men still heaving in the bed of the truck, Cam pulled out his secure cell and placed a call to Marc. Giving him an update, he hung up knowing Marc would call him back as soon as he had more intel from Luke.
With the window down, the breeze blew Cam’s hair, now longer, and he looked at his filthy hands from having worked in the dirt. Hell, I’ll scare her to death if I find her, he thought, but realized that his appearance worked perfectly to disguise himself. Come on Marc. Call back. Time to get the girl!
Luke, pulling his shift in the Saints main room in the compound, got a call from Marc. It’s about time, he thought. While patience was definitely a virtue for him, with Cam out in the field alone, the other Saints had been chomping at the bit. Swallowing the last of his now lukewarm coffee he said, “What have you got?” While listening to what Marc was reporting, he quickly alerted Jack. He began working the intel, after fixing another pot of coffee, ignoring the Keurig on the workroom counter. Known for making strong coffee, the others joked that no Keurig was good enough for him. Within ten minutes Jack joined him.
“What’ve we got?” Jack asked sharply.
“Cam has finally found a way to get closer to Miriam. He used the pills to induce vomiting in two agents and now is on his way with them toward one of the cartel’s medical tents. Since we placed him near the last known location of Miriam, that should take him straight to her.”
Nodding, Jack ordered, “Get back with Marc and make sure he has Cam’s coordinates at all times. Cam will be planning the mission as he goes, and it may be a short notice that Marc will get.”
Luke quickly entered the information into his system and called Marc back. Giving him the closest landing field, he had Marc on stand-by. Then he gave him the latest information he could access about the area.
Within minutes, Marc called Cam back. “Are they still sick?”
“Yeah. Still retching in the back of the truck. They can’t hear me.”
“Good. Luke says that there’s no new info that says that the nurses have been moved. Your coordinates look like you are heading straight for the medical facility that she should be at. Go slow, man. You do not want her to give you away.”
Snorting, Cam replied, “Hell, the way I look, the only thing I’m going to do is scare the shit out of her.”
“You may not see her at first. You got a plan for sticking around if necessary?”
“If I gotta, I’ll take half of a pill myself, just to become sick enough to get to stay, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Don’t want to be ill if my opportunity comes to get her out of there.”
“Right,” Marc answered. “Good luck and let me hear as soon as you can.”
With that, the two men disconnected. Allowing the breeze to continue to blow on his face, cooling the sweat that had been pouring off him, Cam felt the first sense of freedom in a week. Knowing Miriam had to be feeling the shackles of imprisonment, he wanted that sense of freedom for her too. And wanted to be the one to give it to her.
Miriam started her morning managing to get Sister Genovia alone, wanting to question her further about the events of last night. Finding the older woman in the supply tent counting the stock, she picked up a bag of makeshift bandages and began to sort them.
Whispering, she asked, “What happened last night?”
“It appears the doctor and the…man in charge…were seeking female companionship and hoping to impress us at the same time.”
Miriam’s eyes grew wide as she stared dumbly at the nun. “Female companionship? Their wives were with them.”
“With these men, the bounds of marriage mean little. And their wives are quite content to be taken care of.”
“But…but…”
“And the dinner was an exhibition of their wealth. And power.”
“But why?” Miriam asked, her confusion even greater than before.
Sister Genovia turned to her, a kind expression on her face. “My dear, I have worked among these men for a while. It was my calling to bring God’s grace to whomever I could and if I could save anyone from the clutches of their evil…then that is what I have tried to do.”
Miriam looked down at the bandages as a guard walked past the door to the tent. As she heard him move by, she turned her questioning gaze back to the nun.
“I am not a threat, my child. They know that. I am protected by the veil, and they know I will not try to escape. Nor am I impressed by their wealth or power. Those earthly, ill-gotten gains mean nothing to me. But having me along with you last night gave the illusion that it was just a friendly meal.”
“But they kidnapped us. They keep us under lock and key!” Miriam whispered harshly. “How can they think we want to be captives?”
“Look around. Are we not kept safe by the men with guns at our door? Are we not fed better than the workers? You see, in their minds, we are being treated well and as a reward for our service here for the cartel, they are willing to bestow upon you some of their wealth. And if you become a mistress to someone higher up at the same time…so much the better for them.”
Miriam dropped the bundle, clutching the table in front of her until her knuckles were white. Feeling light-headed, she sucked in a huge breath letting it out slowly. “This is madness,” she barely whispered.
She felt Sister Genovia’s hand cover hers and squeeze. “Yes, but this is the madness they live in.”
Miriam turned her face back to the older woman and said, “What do I do?”
She felt the nun’s piercing gaze and held it. Never wavering.
Sister Genovia nodded. “That’s good. You’re not enticed by the lure of what is here. Sharon is. You cannot persuade her differently and do not try. Leave that to me. They will expect it of me but will look suspiciously at you if you try to talk her out of the path she has decided to go on. But” she squeezed Miriam’s hand for emphasis, “do no talk in front of Sharon. She will quickly become an informant if she thinks it will make her road easier. For now, take care of Lorainne. She is ill and becoming weaker. Do what you’re told and keep your wits about you.”
Lickings her lips nervously, Miriam nodded and then turned her sad gaze back to the nun’s. “I’m never leaving, am I? I’ll never see my family again, will I?” She battled the tears threatening to fall, blinking furiously.
Another squeeze. “My child, you never know what God has in store for us. But I pray for your deliverance and the deliverance of the others.”
“It would take a miracle,” Miriam whispered, beginning to feel that there were no miracles in store for her.
Smiling, Sister Genovia replied, “Miracles happen. And I have a feeling that one is just waiting for you.”
A guard stuck his head into the tent and the two women quickly began counting the bandage rolls once more. Gathering some in her arms, she walked briskly by the guard and into the infirmary tent, seeing Ernesto and Sharon standing very close together. Sharon was leaning close to the handsome doctor and his eyes were on the woman. Remembering the words of the nun, Miriam gave them a quick smile and continued into the next room.
Please God. I need that miracle. But until it came, she bent over the exam table and began helping the next ill worker.
Miriam heard the noise of a truck pulling up outside and men shouting. Wanting to be as far away from the commotion as possible, she moved toward the back while continuing to check on patients. Pushing her damp hair away from her sweaty face, she bent over the worker who had been retching most of the night. From the looks of him, he might not live through the day.
Dr. Villogas moved beside her and bent over the patient as well, his body too close to hers for comfort.
“I hope you enjoyed the dinner last night,” he said, turning his handsome smile toward her. “Mr. Guzman and I were thrilled to have such company.”
“It was lovely,” she commented. “I hope we did not put your wives out too much.”
The only thing that gave away his surprise at her comment was the flash of irritation that moved through his eyes.
“Not at all. Our wives are very…accommodating that way.”
Forcing a smile on her face, she just nodded.
“We would love to have you join us again sometime,” he said, his voice smooth.
She looked across the room, catching Sharon’s gaze on her and was trying to think of an answer when she was saved by the yelling from a guard at the door.
Dr. Villagas and she moved to the outside of the tent where a large truck parked, two men in the back being loaded onto stretchers and being brought inside. The doctor immediately moved with the ill, and Miriam stayed behind, hoping to put some distance between her and him for as long as possible.
Her eyes turned back to the truck, the acrid smell of vomit emanating from the bed of the vehicle. That was when she noticed the driver. How could she not notice him? Compared to most men around, he was huge. Taller than her brother who was six feet, two inches tall, he was built like one of the football players she would see when Jobe dragged her to college games. His black hair curled over his ears and down his neck. His olive skin was covered in the same dust that coated the truck. He had a few days scruff on his face, needing a good shave to go along with a haircut. His cargo pants were muddy at bottom as well as his boots caked in the clay. Other men around seemed to be giving the driver a wide berth, probably wondering if he were going to become sick as well. As her eyes moved back up his enormous frame, she was startled to see that he was staring. At her. Directly at her.