Ramming Eddie's car had damaged the radiator of his vehicle, which forced Carlos to ride with the gringo in the truck. Carlos was not in a good mood. His neck and head hurt, Kerney's piss-poor driving made him nervous, and he wasn't sure if he had done the right thing in agreeing to help Meehan. The only happy thought was that he would kill the gringo as soon as he turned over the coins and letters. The traffic light turned green, and Kerney deliberately stalled the truck. The street was completely empty. He restarted the engine and let it idle.
"Think about it, Carlos. De Leon doesn't need Meehan anymore. You can give him the whole package, free and clear."
"And all you want is the woman?"
"That's all I want."
"She must be some piece of ass," Carlos suggested.
"Call De Leon," Kerney replied, nodding at the pay phone next to a bus stop shelter. He coasted to the curb and stopped.
"Let him decide."
"Keep driving," Carlos said.
"Don't be bullheaded. Meehan is just using you."
"I don't know," Carlos said, unsure.
"Let De Leon decide," Kerney repeated. He should call Don Enrique and get further orders, Carlos thought, looking at the pay phone. Things were getting confusing. Probably the patron will want all of them killed, he speculated. That was okay with Carlos. "Get out of the truck." Kerney opened his door.
"My side," Carlos told him, his pistol pointed at Kerney's right ear.
Kerney gave him an apologetic smile.
"I can't. My leg. Sorry." Carlos hesitated.
"Benton fucked you up a little, no? Okay. I'll follow you out. Keep your hands where I can see them."
"No problem." He turned toward the door, hands above the steering wheel, and watched Carlos's reflection in the windshield. As Carlos jockeyed around the gearshift, he shifted his concentration for an instant. Kerney spun back and slammed his elbow into Carlos's nose. Carlos's head bounced off the back of the seat, and Kerney hit him again with his elbow, this time in the mouth. As his head rebounded a second time, Kerney pounded his face into the dashboard. Carlos's false teeth flew out of his mouth and landed on the floorboard. Kerney took the pistol from Carlos's hand, pushed him back against the seat, and raised an eyelid. Carlos was out cold, with a smashed nose and his bottom front teeth embedded in his lip.
He removed the ignition key and went to the pay phone. The military police dispatcher at Fort Bliss didn't want to believe a cockeyed story about lost treasure and a wounded Army corporal, so Kerney demanded the man talk to Major Curry while he stayed on the line. Within two minutes the dispatcher was back, asking for instructions. Kerney gave him directions, told him to send troops, medics, and an ambulance for Eddie on the double, and hung up.
Carlos was still unconscious. Kerney needed a way to make him spill his guts quickly. There was no time for a drawn-out interrogation. *** Sara shook her head furiously to dislodge the scorpion that fell into her hair. It crawled down her cheek and stung her before she could grind her face against the wall and mash it. The sting was painful. The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered as the fuel burned low, making it hard to see the insects. She had stopped counting how many she had killed. She could feel the remains of the squashed bug on her face. The blood in her mouth from Meehan's blow felt like dried paste.
Cold, she couldn't stop shivering as she continued to lose body heat. She hovered over the lamp and crunched another scorpion into oblivion. Staying alert was the key to survival. She started pacing the length of the cell. It was an old wine cellar that had been used as a jail cell many years ago. There were Spanish names, dates, and inscriptions scratched into the walls.
She kept searching for something to use as a weapon. She wanted Meehan to come back, but not until she could find a way to kill him. *** At the end of the Southern Pacific railroad yard where lines of old boxcars sat on spurs, Kerney rolled Carlos out of the truck and got busy. Down the line was an old brick engine barn built like a horseshoe with a series of huge bay doorways that yawned at the night. Carlos, stripped naked, hog-tied, and lying facedown on the railroad ties, looked ridiculous. A rope ran from around Carlos's chest to the rear truck bumper. Kerney had a clear run of several hundred feet before the spur dead-ended. He bent over Carlos and listened to his curses. The broken nose and missing false teeth made Carlos sound like Bullwinkle with a Mexican accent.
"You son of a whore," Carlos said. "Your mother eats sheep shit." Carlos couldn't breathe very well, so he stopped for air.
"Finished?" Kerney asked.
"You better kill me, gringo."
"I'm going to do that, Carlos. But you won't have any nuts left before you die. That I promise you." He gave Carlos a friendly pat on the head and walked toward the truck.
"Wait a minute," Carlos said, suddenly worried.
"No time," Kerney said.
"Wait," Carlos said, starting to feel panicked. Kerney got in the truck and slammed the door. He cranked the engine and drove fifty feet down the tracks. Even at a snail's pace, the undercarriage pitched and rolled over the railroad ties. Through the rearview mirror he could see Carlos bouncing along. He stopped before any serious amount of skin could be stripped off and went to check the damage. Carlos had his head pulled up to keep his face from smashing into the ties.
"Anything broken yet?" Kerney asked. Carlos grunted. His chest hurt. There were cinders embedded in his flesh from his knees to his shoulders. His testicles were burning. It felt as if a grinder were scouring off his skin.
"I'll pick up the pace a bit." Again, Kerney patted Carlos on the head.
Carlos decided Kerney would turn him into a de balled vegetable. "Wait," he pleaded.
"I'm waiting for the directions to the hacienda," Kerney replied.
"Okay," Carlos said, and the directions tumbled out. When Carlos finished talking, Kerney cut him loose from the bumper, rolled him off the tracks into a pile of cinders, and told him to be patient, help was on the way. Lying in the cinders, Carlos renewed his insults. Kerney stuffed Carlos's shorts into his mouth to shut him up.
On the way to the border, Kerney called the military police again. This time, Kerney didn't have to wait to be taken seriously. He told the duty officer where to find Carlos, asked about Eddie, learned Tapia was en route to the hospital, a squad of military policemen were at the storage unit, and Tom Curry had arrived from Las Cruces by helicopter. The major wanted to talk to him right away. Kerney hung up before Curry could get on the line. *** Sara's shaking intensified, and she kept moving, trying to stay warm. She felt woozy and disoriented-all the classic signs of shock and hypothermia. It had taken a long time to maneuver a board against the wall and break an end piece with the heel of her boot. A hand-forged iron nail protruded from the wood. The board kept slipping from her fingers as she tried to pick it up with her hands cuffed at her back. She crouched down again, got a firm grip, and stood up, clenching the board in a hand.
She began pacing again to fight off the shivers, stopping to scrape the rotting wood against the wall to loosen the nail. Finally, it broke free and clattered to the floor. She searched blindly behind her back to retrieve it, her fingers stiff and cold. When she had it she could tell it was a good size, four or five inches long. If she could keep it out of sight and strike at the right time, it would do some damage. All she needed was the opportunity.
She heard footsteps approaching. The latch squeaked and the door swung open.
"It's time, Sara," Meehan said. He pulled her roughly out of the cell into the room. A kerosene lamp by the pile of tarps lit up the room. He walked her over and pushed her down on the pile. She got quickly to her feet and tried to rush him. He knocked her down with a swipe across the face.