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

want to talk about what I saw or who I saw or why—not now anyway.”

“Fair enough,” Cal said. “I’ll be here to listen when you’re ready to talk.”

Prado nodded. “Thank you.”

***

WITH DAWN BREAKING BEHIND THEM, Cal ventured out of the cabin and onto the main deck to check on their progress. He was surprised to see the shoreline spread out in front of him.

“I take it we’re almost here,” Cal said.

Torres nodded. “We need to go through a channel up ahead before we reach our final destination.”

“Are we going to be boarded and checked?”

Torres laughed. “This is Mexico, Cal. I thought you said you’d been here before.”

“I have—” he stammered. “But it was under different circumstances.”

“Just keep your head down and do as you’re told—and everything will be fine.” He paused as he throttled back on the engine and moved into the inlet. Then he picked up his laptop and handed it to Cal. “Now would be a good time to transfer that money.”

Cal reluctantly agreed and hammered on the keyboard until he’d managed to initiate a transfer from his savings account.

“Thirty thousand dollars is on its way to you,” Cal said.

“Thirty? It was forty-five thousand,” Torres said.

Cal shook his head and forced a smile. “I see right through you, Torres. For once could you just be an honorable person?”

Torres put his head down and grunted. “Just transfer the money.”

Cal initiated the transfer and showed it to Torres, drawing a hint of a smile.

“Let everyone know that we’ve almost arrived,” Torres said.

Torres then initiated a transfer of his own to Goretti, along with a text telling him that the money was there.

That ought to keep him off my back.

Fifteen minutes later with the assistance of Ortega, Torres guided his boat near the dock of Fabian Munoz’s estate. He shut the engine off and finished tying off the boat.

“We’re here,” Torres said.

Cal waited for Kelly and the others. He helped her off the boat as they strode up a slight incline and onto a spacious piece of private property. Cal surveyed the scene, making mental notes of his surroundings. Big-busted women wearing bikinis and high heels paraded around the property with drinks in their hands while Latin dance music pulsed in the background. Seated near the water, one man reveled in a backrub given to him simultaneously by three ladies.

Torres looked at Cal and nodded in the direction of the man receiving the backrub. “That’s Fabian Munoz,” he said. “You’ll be wise to keep your mouth shut around him and do as you’re told.”

“Fabian Munoz, the drug lord? You’re dropping us off with him?”

Torres nodded. “He’ll get you back into the country, don’t worry. This place ought to be proof that he knows how to get things into the U.S. without getting caught.”

Cal shook his head. “You can’t do this to us.”

“Watch me,” Torres said. He strode over to Munoz and knelt down to speak with him. After a few seconds, Munoz clapped his hands and two men armed with machine guns rushed to his side. Munoz pointed toward Cal and Kelly along with Prado and Guerrero. The men rushed toward them and ushered them back toward the house.

Kelly looked at Cal. “I’m scared.”

“Just do as you’re told.” Cal swallowed hard and lied. “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

CHAPTER 46

WHEN WALLER AND HAMPTON arrived back in port in Miami, they contacted Homeland Security and alerted them to be on the lookout for several fugitives. They knew that Prado wouldn’t be able to come back to baseball without them finding out about it—and he’d be in a heap of trouble then. And while he was the one they were ultimately after, they wanted to arrest Torres and Ortega. They’d been outfoxed twice already, but Waller determined it wouldn’t happen a third time.

Hampton waited until Waller got off the phone before he questioned his plan. “You really think that’s going to help? They’re not just going to waltz through some entry point. You need to let Border Patrol know. That’s where they’re going to be found, wandering in the desert somewhere.”

“They’ll pass the message along.”

“Not before it’s too late.”

“Even if our efforts fail, Prado won’t throw another pitch without us finding out about it. Just relax. We’ll be fine.”

Hampton shook his head. “Maybe he’ll just stay in Mexico and play there. Based on his early stats, there’s no way he was going to advance to the Major Leagues. That’s what I’d do anyway. Just cut my losses.”

Waller rubbed his face with both hands. “So, we trump up charges against him, see if we can get extradition from Mexico.”

“You think the Justice Department will go along with that?”

“If it’s a matter of national security, they will.”

“Be honest—we really don’t care as much about him as we do those two other scumbags smuggling people out of Cuba.”

“I’m more pissed about them kidnapping our assignment in the U.S.”

Hampton nodded. “Yeah, that too.”

“Well, this seems like nothing compared to what we saw out there on the open seas—all those Russian tankers headed straight for Cuba.”

“Something was going on out there, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll make the call right now. Maybe it’ll be enough to buy us some time while we focus on catching Prado.”

Hampton smiled. “We may end up being heroes after all.”

CHAPTER 47

PRADO LOOKED TOWARD CAL as a pair of armed men forced him down the hall apart from Cal and Kelly. They threw him into a room and locked the door behind him. Unfortunately, it was all too familiar. He’d been secluded in Fabian Munoz’s compound before, awaiting an opportunity to get into the United States. Only this time, he had no idea what he’d be going back to.

Will they throw me in prison? Will I ever get a chance to play again?

Prado shuffled to the corner of the room and looked out of the small slit of a window. But there was no glass, only bars. And it felt like a