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“It’s simple,” she said in flawless English. “He wants to torture me as often as he can. I was a gift to him. From my father.” Kegger tried to control his emotions, but it was difficult. He could hear the commotion outside and someone calling her name.
“Speed it up, Romeo. We need to get the fuck out of Dodge,” said Hawk.
“This is a very special blanket,” said Kegger, pulling the stealth netting from his backpack. “While we’re beneath this, no one can see us. You’re going to get on my back, and I’m going to walk very slowly. Don’t make a sound, or they’ll find us.”
“A blanket? This isn’t Harry Potter.” Kegger tried not to laugh, giving the woman a smirk.
“No, and I’m not Dumbledor. Just climb on.”
“Who are you? How do I know I’m not going from the frying pan to the fire?” she asked quietly.
“You don’t, but I damn sure hope you’ll trust me. We want to bring Ramos down. We know that he’s had plastic surgery to look like the American military man.” Kegger let that sink in, and the woman nodded. She held a basket of produce in her hands. “That has to stay.”
Nodding, she set the basket next to the toilet as Kegger turned, crouching for her to climb on. She didn’t weigh anything, that alone making him more pissed off than he was when they arrived. He swung the netting around them, ensuring that it covered his feet and both their bodies.
“Remember. Not a peep.”
He felt her nod as he opened the door and stepped out. The guard was twenty feet from him, staring at the door that had suddenly swung open. Kegger took a few steps to the right, slowly walking toward the docks as the man looked inside the toilet. He saw her basket, showing it to the other man.
Ahead of him, he saw Clay and Parker. Both were wearing sunglasses that allowed them to see him beneath the netting.
“You got this, Kegger,” said Clay. “Keep walking.”
“One is coming toward you, Clay,” said Eagle. The man walked down the dock, coming straight toward the American.
“Where is she?” he yelled in Spanish. Clay tilted his head as if he didn’t understand.
“Where is she?” he repeated in English.
“Who? It’s just me and my buddy,” said Clay. “We didn’t bring any women, although if you got some for us, let us know.”
Both men laughed, the guards staring at them with disdain. They turned back, walking through the market, searching beneath tables. Kegger stepped on the fishing vessel, slowly walking below deck. When they were out of sight, he took off the netting.
“Stay down here with this over you. Don’t come out, no matter what.” She nodded, shaking with fear. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. I promise you.”
“Fellas, we need to hightail it out of here,” said Eagle. “We’ve got three boats coming in from the northwest side of the lake. Convenient, don’t you think?”
“Let’s go,” said Parker.
He started the boat, cracking open a beer for effect, giving Eagle and Hawk time to get back to them. With their rifles secured beneath the netting of their jackets, they jumped aboard, leaving the dock behind.
The three boats passed them, eyeing them suspiciously as they headed to the docks to speak with the two guards. When they arrived, the two guards spoke rapidly to them, then one turned pointing to their boat.
“Shit! Let’s go,” said Clay.
“Get us out in the middle of the lake, away from prying eyes,” said Hawk. “Eagle? Get up on the top. I’ll take one from down here.”
Clay ran the engine as hard as he could, watching as the boats of Ramos’s men turned and came toward them. When they were sufficiently away from land, out of sight of prying eyes, Eagle took the first shot, making a direct hit on the engine. The explosion wasn’t as discreet as they’d hoped, but it ended one search party.
“Seriously?” smirked Hawk.
“What? I can’t make an engine and gasoline explode quietly. Just take your fucking shot.”
Hawk laughed in his ear, taking aim at the second boat. It exploded in the same fashion, forcing the third boat to slow somewhat, rethinking their attack.
Knowing that they wouldn’t be able to come up with a good excuse for Ramos as to why they backed away, they moved forward again. Soon to regret it. With the competitive brothers trying to make their ‘score’ uneven, both shots hit the boat simultaneously.
“That was my shot,” smirked Hawk.
