Dead Man's Land by Jack Patterson (digital e reader .txt) 📕

One of the men opened the driver’s side door and climbed out, his imposing figure casting a large shadow behind him in the early morning light.

Cal stared at the man, almost frozen with fear.

He turned toward Prado. “Run, Vicente! Run!”

CHAPTER 14

WALLER AND HAMPTON EXITED their car and realized that the men in front of them weren’t going to submit willingly. Waller drew his gun and took off after them. He glanced over his shoulder at Hampton, who joined him in the race to catch the two runners.

“I’ve got the one on the left,” Waller said.

“Roger that,” Hampton answered.

The two fugitives scrambled down the hill and split. Waller stayed with his target, who was their intended target all along. It was evident by his speed and agility as he maneuvered through the brambles in the woods with ease. With each step, he created even greater distance between them.

After several hundred yards of sprinting after the Cuban player, Waller realized he was never going to catch him. He stopped and watched him run.

He can’t run forever.

A few seconds later, he watched as Hampton pursued the journalist along a parallel track in the woods. He’d looped around and was following the same path as the baseball player.

Waller wondered why they were running. He finally stood up and yelled, “Freeze! We’re FBI!”

The journalist froze and then yelled into the woods in Spanish, something that Waller didn’t understand. Waller watched in awe as the player stopped running and returned toward their position. A few moments later, they reached Waller, who was now reclining against a tree, his weapon holstered.

“That’s a first for me,” Waller said.

“What?” asked the journalist.

“Having someone actually stop running after I identified myself.”

“I wish you’d done that earlier.” The journalist offered his hand. “Cal Murphy, The Seattle Times.”

“Gus Waller, FBI, and this is Bill Hampton.”

“Sorry,” Cal said. “We thought you were someone else. It’s been quite an eventful past ten hours or so for us.”

“So I understand,” Waller said. “We’re not here to arrest you guys—just protect you and ask you a few questions about the incident earlier this morning along with a few other things.”

Cal looked at Prado and nodded. “This is Vicente Prado. I think he might be able to shed more light on this situation than I can.”

Waller started by asking a question to him directly, very loudly, and in simple English. “Do you know why the men came after you?”

Prado cocked his head to one side. “Is there a reason you’re yelling at me?”

Taken aback, Waller looked toward Cal. “Why didn’t you tell me he spoke English?”

Cal laughed. “I thought you were the investigators. You’d figure it out eventually.”

“Anything else we need to be aware of before we continue to question Mr. Prado?”

“Hmmm.” Cal stared into the trees for a few seconds. “He hates lizards and spiders. Other than that, I think you’re plenty competent at finding out all you need to know from Mr. Prado.”

“Let’s walk back toward the car and we can finish our conversation there,” Waller said.

A few minutes passed as they trekked down the path toward their vehicle.

Once they reached the agents’ car, another vehicle roared toward them.

“Must be my wife,” Cal said as he stared down the road at the approaching car. “Yep. That’s her.”

A few seconds later, the car pulled to a stop next to them. Kelly exited the car slowly, her head on a swivel surveying the situation. “Is everything all right?” she asked.

Cal motioned for her to return to the car. “Everything’s fine, honey. Just give me a second.”

“Okay,” she said and went back to her Outback Subaru.

“Vicente, you can trust these guys. They’re FBI. They’re not going to hurt you. They’ll help you get back with your team. You can speak freely with them. Understand?”

Prado nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” Cal said. “Am I free to go?”

Waller nodded. “Have a nice trip back to Seattle. Sorry for the confusion earlier.”

“No worries,” Cal said. He started walking toward his car.

“Wait a minute,” Waller called after him. “I need to give you something.”

Cal stopped and turned around. “What is it?”

“My card,” Waller said, handing Cal his business card. “We need to get a statement from you at some point about the men who tried to abduct you.”

Cal shook his head. “I know as much as you do. I spent the better part of the night trying to avoid them, not trying to get a good look at their faces. I’m not sure what they wanted with Prado, but I know it wasn’t on the up-and-up.”

Waller nodded and smiled. “Very well then. Just give us a call if you think of something.”

Cal waved and then turned, disappearing into his car.

Waller watched as it spun around in a U-turn and returned in the direction from which it came. He waited until the car was completely out of view before turning his attention to Prado.

“Thank you for complying with us, Mr. Prado,” Waller said as he gestured for the man they’d apprehended to get into the backseat of their car. “We just have a few questions for you.”

Prado opened the door and slid across the bench in the backseat. “Questions about what? The men who tried to kill us?”

Waller smiled and wagged his finger. “Oh, no. Not about them. I’m more interested in what you saw before you left Cuba—and why the Cuban government would come after you.”

Waller watched the lump in Prado’s throat move slowly downward. But Prado said nothing.

“Playing dumb will get you nowhere, Mr. Prado. We need the truth—and we need it now.” He paused. “Or else we have other ways of extracting it from you.”

Waller smiled at the uneasiness of Prado.

He was just getting started.

CHAPTER 15

VICENTE PRADO’S EYES WIDENED as he stared at the FBI agent in front of him. The kind demeanor disappeared when his new journalist friend disappeared down the road. It felt strangely familiar yet equally uncomfortable. He glanced around to see if anyone else was