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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 dripp
ing 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.”
