Page 66 of Fighting for Tawny

She did. Again and again and again. She lost count after twenty-five. Dr. Xavier forced her to consume an oily soup to expedite the process. At some point, they initiated Yolanda, who sat across from her. Tawny lost all sense of reality, unable to think, unable to pray. Balloon after balloon of heroin slid down her abused throat into her stomach.

Dr. Xavier announced, “All done.”

Tawny’s head fell back. Her bloated stomach scared her. She wanted to vomit.

Yolanda’s hand reached across the table and touched hers. “T, you okay?”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She moaned and squeezed Yolanda’s hand.

“No. Fight it. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re done.”

Dr. Xavier tidied his tray. “Time to go, ladies. You’ve been given a bowel inhibitor. When you get to your next destination, laxatives will be administered to relieve you of…your burden. Good luck.”

Whitcomb and Macintosh hauled them to their feet, but aware of the drugs inside them, they were more solicitous in the way they treated them. Tawny memorized as many details of their location as she could, but innate fear fogged her brain. She noted a dirt road leading to a low adobe brick building in the middle of farmland. White fencing lined the dirt road. When they reached a two-lane highway, they turned left. Road signs advertised the distance to the border. Fifteen miles.

They crossed the border without incident. A border guard conducted a cursory check of their vehicle and waved them through. Tawny wondered if they’d been warned about the sting operation. In California now, they traveled another hour and arrived in San Diego. They drove to an abandoned building. Its crumbling façade and shuttered windows disguised the drop-off point for the drugs Tawny and Yolanda carried. Whitcomb pulled into an alley and parked in the back of the building. He and Macintosh each grabbed one of Tawny’s and Yolanda’s arms.

Out of habit, Tawny checked for security cameras but saw none as she and Yolanda were escorted up a short flight of stairs to the back entrance. Whitcomb stared into a retina scanner, and the heavy metal door slid open. Tawny glanced over her shoulder, hoping to spot her backup. She saw nothing. Her heart sank. Once these poisoned balloons were out of their system, she and Yolanda would have to fight for their lives or trust that the bust would occur after Whitcomb and Macintosh returned them to fire camp.

More alert, Tawny’s gaze swept the interior of the building. Half a dozen armed men and women sorted thousands of packets of expelled heroin on long wooden tables. In one corner, two pairs of workers rinsed the balloons with a special cleansing solution. Then, the balloons were taken to another set of workers who squeezed the black tar into a small packet and sealed it. These were transferred to the men and women who sorted and stamped them for distribution. Tawny guessed the amount of heroin in this room was probably worth millions of dollars on the street.

“Move.” Whitcomb and Macintosh shoved Tawny and Yolanda forward.

They walked through the large main area into a smaller room. The pungent smell of bleach stung Tawny’s eyes and nose. This room contained twin-sized beds, a table with four chairs, and two spacious bathrooms with shower stalls. Plastic bags filled with pieces of chocolate sat on the table, along with bottles of water.

“Eat up,” Macintosh commanded. “The chocolate is laced with a fast-acting laxative. We’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thanks for being so considerate,” Tawny flung.

“Just wait.” He slammed the door behind him.

Tawny and Yolanda each took a plastic bag and settled on a twin bed. Tawny’s hand shook as she placed a piece of chocolate in her mouth. Her throat now felt like it was on fire, so she let the chocolate melt on her tongue. She ate another and started to sweat.

“T, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good. You’re shaking, and you’re as pale as a ghost.”

“They’re—they’re not here, Yolanda. My team. They’re not here. We’ll have to go back to fire camp…or fight against armed men and women. We could probably disarm one or two, but not all of them.” She placed more chocolate on her tongue and gagged.

The gagging reflex caused needle-like pain in her stomach that morphed into a fiery sensation throughout her body. And she knew. She knew with certainty that one or more of the balloons had ruptured, and death was imminent.

She slumped over on the bed. “Yolanda…tell Finn I love him. Tell him I tried?—”

Darkness crept into the edges of her vision. Then, she no longer felt the beating of her heart.

Yolanda screamed, “Tawny! Oh, Jesus, no! No!” She leaped off the bed and crossed the room. She checked for a pulse. When she didn’t find one, she let out a string of colorful expletives in Spanish and started CPR, as she’d been taught in fire school.

An exchange of rapid gunfire, voices shouting, and running feet startled and scared her, but she refused to give up on Tawny. Tawny would never give up on her. Tears streamed down her dirty face caked with dried blood.

“Come on, T! Come on! You’re strong! You’re the toughest, most badass woman I’ve ever met! Fight, damn it! Fight for your love!”

Someone burst through the door. “Tawny!” Finnigan’s voice reverberated in the room.

Yolanda moved aside as he lifted Tawny into his arms and sprinted out of the room. She ran after him, crying, “Finnigan, I tried! I tried to save her! I tried—” She suddenly doubled over in pain as her bowels let loose. “Oh, fuck me!”

A hunky SWAT officer stopped to help her. In spite of the way she looked and smelled, he carried her into one of the bathrooms. He even waited for her as she did her business. The number of balloons she expelled disgusted her. She took a shower, wrapped her body in a towel, and called, “Sir, are you still there? I’m, um, naked in here!”

She heard his chuckle. “Just a minute, ma’am.” He thrust a blanket through a crack in the door. “It’s all I could find.”

“It’s fine. Thank you!” Yolanda wrapped the blanket around her and stepped out of the bathroom.

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