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“Come out where I can see you,” Alvarez shouted.
Forrester moved forward just far enough to be seen in front of the windshield, a gun extended in a two-fisted grip. “I want to see the kids. Prove to me that they’re okay.”
“I’ve got them here, in my car.”
“Show me.”
“You’ll have to come here, Forrester.”
Forrester waited. And waited.
With a curse, Alvarez reached in the open back window of the car and ripped away the duct tape over the boy’s mouth. The boy yelped in pain. “You tell him you two are okay, for now. You tell him anything more, and you’re gonna die right now.”
“We’re both here,” the boy called out in a shaky voice. “But he’s got a gun.”
“You hear that? Come out here so we can talk. Let me see your hands in the air.”
“Tell me what you want. Money? Weapons? A passport? I can help you. In two days you can be out of the country, free as a bird.”
Alvarez took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. A sense of power sped through him as the front tire of the SUV hissed.
Forrester ducked back behind the SUV. “Let’s talk, now. Meet me halfway.”
Had there been a prearranged signal? Were there others hiding nearby? Alvarez swallowed. He pulled open the rear car door and reached inside, grabbed the girl and hauled her into his arms. “I’ve got her with me. Right here. Put your gun down and step out where I can see you, or she dies.”
“You leave so much as a scratch on those kids, and you’ll be dead before you can blink. Believe that even if you’ve never believed one blessed thing in your life.”
“The gun, man. If you want this kid alive, put down your gun!”
Forrester slowly put his gun on the hood of his SUV. Stepped cautiously away from the protection of his vehicle. “Let’s talk about this, Alvarez.”
“Help me? I watched you day and night back in Dallas. You never made a move I didn’t see.” His voice rose, rising with the anger that boiled through his midsection. “Your sister ran from me twice. Hid her daughter. But now she’s dead and the kid’s gonna die, too. Who has the power, here? Not you.”
“But why?”
The raw pain in Forrester’s voice filled Alvarez with a rush of satisfaction. “Your sister thought she could keep me from finding you, and that was a stupid move. The kid? I’m not serving life because some brat can ID me in a lineup.”
“Why did you want me in the first place? I don’t even know you.”
Alvarez gave a harsh laugh. “I spent over ten years in the pen, and I spent every minute figuring out how to pay you back. Remember that operation in West Dallas? Everything was perfect until someone undercover called in the Feds. And I think that traitor was you.”
Forrester edged forward. “Right now you’re in a lot of trouble, but maybe I can help you,” he wheedled. “We can both get out of here. Cross the border and live like kings.”
“Because of you, I lost ten years of my life, and my father and brother are dead. The only place you’re going now is six feet under.”
Did the man’s arm move? Alvarez took fast aim, squeezed the trigger. The explosion ricocheted through the hills, echoing on and on. Kicking wildly, the brat in his arms struggled to escape his grasp despite the tape that bound her wrists and ankles. He thrust her aside and lifted the gun again with both hands.
Forrester staggered. Rolled forward. Reached for something at his ankle.
Panic surged through Alvarez. His hands shook as he took aim again.
But something else moved at the periphery of his vision. In that endless heartbeat of time, he wavered between Forrester and the new intruder.
“You’re dead, Alvarez,” Forrester growled.
A split second later, the sharp crack of a rifle rang out.
Followed instantly by another explosion.
