“Noted. And I’m not ruling that out. I just don’t like a situation where you’re on the stairs and Reginald is shooting from a position of safety. That’s asking for it.”
“You made your point. What are you planning to do?”
“They’ve got us pinned down. It’s a stalemate. We can’t leave, but they can’t get in. My goal is to hold them off until the guards show up from the nuke plant. It won’t be much longer with all this gunfire.”
“Let’s hope so. We don’t actually know how long they’ll take. And there could be more cartel goons on the way. In fact, the nuclear staff might be under instructions not to leave the grounds in case this is just a diversion for a frontal attack.”
Sam looked at where Antonio was crouched, pistol in hand. “Antonio, does your cell phone work in here? Do you have a signal?”
He fished it out of his pocket. “I do.”
“Call someone. Get the entire Mexican military here. Now. Explain the situation. We need the cavalry to come over the hill.”
Antonio punched in the emergency number and spoke in low tones as Sam and Remi kept watching the brush outside the temple. When he hung up, he didn’t look confident.
“They wanted me to stay on the line. I told them I couldn’t but that they needed to get an armed group presence out here immediately. And an air evac for casualties. The operator said she’d do the best she could.”
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Remi said.
“They’ll send someone — the only question is how long it takes.” Antonio hesitated. “What are you going to do about Reginald and my sister?”
“All we can do is wait. It’s suicide to go down those stairs.”
“But Maribela could be hurt. Or he could be using her for a hostage.”
Remi touched his hand. “Antonio. Think. There was a gunshot that started all this. And only two people were on the stairs — Reginald and Guerrero.” She paused. “I’m sorry, Antonio.”
“She might be wounded … like Lazlo.”
Sam nodded. “It’s possible. But there’s nothing we can do right now. We need to hold off these men until help arrives. Then the professionals can take care of Reginald. We’ll see how he fares against heavily armed soldiers in full battle gear.”
Lazlo groaned from the floor.
“How’re you doing, Lazlo?” Sam asked, eyes continually scanning the grounds for signs of life.
“Not … great.”
Remi crawled over to him. She saw the bullet wound.
“Lazlo, help’s on the way. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Good … show …”
More shooting slammed into the stone entryway, sending chips flying. Sam popped off a shot at the orange blossom of the shooter’s muzzle blast as Remi returned. “Let me have that thing. I’m the marksman, remember?”
“I’ve done pretty well so far.”
“They’re still out there and shooting. Come on, I’ll swap you. AK for a nearly new Beretta nine. Such a deal.”
Sam did as she asked and hefted the pistol. “I’m not sure what I’ll be able to accomplish with this peashooter.”
“Don’t worry. Fire off a couple of shots, see if you can draw them out.”
Sam squeezed off two rounds. When the gunman outside opened up, Remi kept her head down until he was done and then fired three shots in quick succession.
No fire answered. She turned to Sam and gave him a small smile. “Never send a man—”
“To do a woman’s job. I know. You think you got him?”
“Pretty sure. But there may be more out there.”
“Want to risk trying a breakout?”
“It would be safer to stay here and wait for the military to show,” Remi said. She looked around. “Where’s Antonio?”
Sam turned to scan the darkened interior of temple. “He was just here.”
Remi cursed. “Idiot. He went down after Reginald. I knew it.” She handed Sam back the rifle. “Give me the Beretta.”
“Remi. Just because Antonio wants to commit hara-kiri doesn’t mean you should.”
“He’s doing what I should have.”
“No, he’s doing something really stupid you shouldn’t be involved in.”
“Hold that thought, Fargo.”
“Remi …”
She covered the distance to the stairs in seconds and was out of sight before Sam could do anything to stop her. She felt her way along, gun held in front of her. There hadn’t been any more shooting from below — at least that was a positive. She also didn’t sense Antonio in front of her, which meant he’d turned the corner and was in the passageway to the cave.
Remi passed Guerrero’s corpse, knelt down, and felt around until she found his pistol. She slid it into the waist of her pants at the small of her back and continued down the steps until she reached the landing. The faint glow from the work lamp was a little brighter there and she could barely make out the pictograph as she leaned against the stone wall and prepared to turn the corner.
She ducked around low, in a crouch, presenting as small a target as possible. Nothing. Step by careful step, she crept forward, eyes adjusting to the low light, gun scanning the passage as she made her way forward. She listened and heard only the soft dripping of water somewhere in the cave.
Remi swung into the cavern, leading with her gun, and froze when she saw Reginald at the far side, standing behind Antonio, his gun pointed at Antonio’s head.
“Drop it or I blow his head off,” Reginald said.
“Shoot him. He killed Maribela,” Antonio hissed.
Reginald shook his head. “It wasn’t me. It was Guerrero,” he lied.
Antonio tried to struggle free. “Shoot him.”
“Give me one reason not to, Reginald,” Remi said, taking another step into the chamber.
“I’ll kill him. I swear I will.”
Another step. “And why should I care? I drop my gun, you’ll just shoot me.”
“This has all gone wrong. I just want to get out of this alive. Don’t make me kill him.” Reginald paused, then shouted at Remi, “You have five seconds and then you’ll be wearing his brains!”
Remi lowered her weapon. “Easy, Reginald. I believe you. If you shoot us, Sam will cut you down when you try to come up the stairs. You’ll be deader than Elvis before you make it three feet.” She saw a flicker in his eyes.
“Shut up and drop the gun.”
“Shoot him now,” Antonio pleaded.
“I’m putting the gun down.” Remi slowly knelt, her eyes never leaving Reginald’s. She saw the moment of triumph she’d been waiting for when she set the gun on the stone floor and began straightening up.
Reginald moved his gun from Antonio’s head to point at Remi as he sneered in victory. “You stupid cow—”
He never saw her other hand slip behind her and grip Guerrero’s gun, all his attention focusing on her eyes and the hand that was placing the Beretta on the floor.
Her left-handed shot caught Reginald high in the shoulder, inches from Antonio’s chest. He spun from the force of the shot shattering his scapula as Antonio threw himself on Reginald and started to beat him with angered fury at the death of his sister. Reginald’s pistol dropped on the floor and Remi raced toward it as Antonio and he fell together. She kicked it out of reach as Sam’s voice called out from the entryway.
“Remi. You’re okay!”
“Of course I am, Fargo.”
Sam handed his rifle to Lazlo, who was leaning shakily against the passage wall, and moved to break up the fight. By the time he reached Antonio, he’d stopped battering Reginald, a glazed look in his eyes as he gripped the younger man’s shirt.
Reginald’s head slumped forward as he lost consciousness. Sam eyed Reginald and nodded at Antonio. “Doesn’t look like he’ll be a problem anytime soon. How about you?”
“He killed my sister,” Antonio seethed.