Page 34 of Vaquero
Chapter Thirteen
Julio stood at the north tunnel’s entrance, the path behind him packed with more than two hundred women, children, and men. In no particular order. During any other rescue, he’d have insisted the women and children go first. Not tonight.
He’d selected the strongest, most able-bodied of the masses, regardless of gender, to lead the way to safety. Because there would be blood, and there would be death. But the men in this weak, little army of survivors had all been told to take care of the injured ones. They knew they had to hurry, and if they had to drag someone out of the tunnel, they’d better do it quickly. Oz’s soldiers would retaliate, and they’d strike without mercy.
“Heroes only die once,” he’d told his band of survivors, “but I will shoot any of you who puts his or her freedom before the weak or sickly.”
And he’d meant it. These starving people needed to exit as quietly and as orderly as they could, or they’d all be caught again. Heaven only knew what Oz would do to them then—if he were still alive.
For now, Mauricio, Pepe, and Pepe’s father Rafael, were armed with shovels and pickaxes at Julio’s left. Susana Cortes stood at his right, gripping a long, dirty screwdriver she’d found, as well as a short-handled ax. Of all the rebels in this cave, aka the adults Oz had enslaved, she alone had the makings of a decent soldier. Obedience without arguing. A fierce will to live. But Julio had chosen Susana to stand with him purely because she seemed to want Oz dead more than Meg did.
Meg.His lips pinched thinking of her and that foolish, stupid kiss. The kiss he’d loved and would steal again if he had the chance. As torn as he was that he’d betrayed his marriage vows by kissing Meg, Julio still savored the sweet honey of her lips. Her mouth. Her fervor. Both times, she’d kissed him without his permission. But with such passion. Almost frantically, as if she’d needed him. Him, of all the men she could have had. She’d kissed him! And she’d seemed to like it.
Not that he understood why, but his blood warmed anyway, remembering her hands on his belly and chest. Her fingers around his neck. His heart beat faster, like it had a reason to beat again. Like it wanted to live out the rest of its time on earth with Meg. But that was a dream for another man. Not Julio Juarez. The young man who’d dropped out of college to join the Navy. The sailor who’d rung out of BUD/S. The man who couldn’t even save his woman and child.
Shaking the sweet taste of Meg out of his mind and off his tongue, Julio settled for knowing she and her children were safe instead of about to go to war. That would have to be enough.
The muscle in Julio’s taut, stern cheek twitched like it thought otherwise. There was a day when he’d smiled easily. His facial muscles seemed determined to relive those days. But there was no reason to smile now. He wasn’t happily married, and he wasn’t on top of the world. Once he fired the first fifty caliber round tonight, there’d be no going back. And a smart man never smiled back at death.
The crowd pressed anxiously at his back. It was time. But first...
Julio needed to know. “What is in the other tunnel?”
Susana answered, “Gold. Tons of gold. Gold we dug with our bare hands so Oz could steal it from us.”
Mauricio nodded. “Did you not know Zapata mined gold?”
Come to think of it, no. Julio hadn’t cared enough to ask or research what kind of rocks Zapata had lusted after. But gold made sense. It had blinded enough greedy men before. “The other mine as well? You mined gold there, too?”
“All Zapata ever mines is gold,” Pepe said.
“But the vein at OZ Metallurgy Mining is no more,” Rafael offered. “He’d always kept a smaller exploratory group of men here, but then, the owner of this quarry found a good-sized nugget. The rock alone would’ve made him rich, but he made the mistake of bragging to Zapata that he would soon be richer than him. Now, he is blind. He used to work in Zapata’s mine with us.”
Mauricio nodded sadly. “After he cut his eyes out.”
“Where is the rightful owner of this mine now?”
Mauricio’s shoulders lifted. “Do not ask us. Ask Orlando Zapata. If you dare.”
Which meant the actual owner was undoubtedly dead.
“That must be how Oz paid the Russians for those missiles,” Julio murmured. In gold.
“They really have a missile?” Pepe asked.
Julio nodded grimly. “Three. And they are in the beginning stages of excavating missile silos.”
“And they have dynamite,” Pepe added. “That is what caused the explosion.”
Susana growled. “Bastard. I thought the world was ending. This tunnel could’ve collapsed. He could’ve buried us alive.”
“But they didn’t,” Julio reminded her and the others near to him. “And that is why you are here with me now. Let us focus, people. Tonight we fight back. Do not leave the tunnel until I create a diversion to hide your escape. Remember what I said. Run away as fast as you can, but take care of each other. All must be saved or all will die.”
Murmurs rolled from the desperate people deeper in the tunnel when Julio stepped into the night. Aromas of grilled meats and coffee wafted from the campfire beyond. Good. Oz’s army was eating and drinking. Soon they’d tire. It looked like some of his men were already prone, hopefully sleeping.
Mauricio clapped a firm hand onto Julio’s shoulder. “Pepe is right,” he breathed. “You are the hand of God.”
The notion stuck in Julio’s throat like a rock. If he were the hand of God, then God was a very poor judge of character. Without answering, Julio dropped to one knee, then settled on his belly in the dirt. There was no need to unroll the mat he used for times like this when dirt was all a guy had to lie on. He didn’t intend to stay here long.
