Page 99 of Vaquero
Chapter Forty-One
Zapata was going to die. No ifs. No buts. No two ways about it. First, Meg meant to put one round through one of his thick, meaty legs. Didn’t matter which, as long as it stopped him. Then, another through his cold black heart. That sucker was probably inked, too. Damn him to hell.
Not that she thought those shots would kill Domingo Zapata. God, she hated the name. It resembled Dominic’s too much! But she was pretty sure Zapata didn’t have a heart like Dominic did, not the way he’d jerked that frantic little boy out of her arms, then dropped him screaming and scared-to-death on his poor little backside. Zapata had to. That was the only way he could stab Meg to that tree where animals could’ve gotten at her. Panthers. Bears. The occasional harpy eagle. Even ants could’ve eaten her alive!
But the most heartrending part was that poor Dominic had watched the atrocity. He’d screamed, “Mum!” so many times that his cries actually hurt worse than being pinned to a freakin’ tree. Zapata wasn’t a man. He was a rabid dog, one that Meg meant to put down before he hurt her sweet little boy again. She couldn’t wait to end the motherfucker!
Her blood boiled, and a frightening kind of rage energized every step forward. Since the moment she’d climbed unsteadily to her feet, she’d set the pace, and Julio had let her. Without any words, he walked at her side. Smart man. Because she wasnotleaving Brazil without that little boy. No way in hell. Dominic was going home to America with her. Today!
Until Julio’s hand clamped onto her good arm. Ha! That was a joke. She had no good arms left. Only a deep-seated need to get her son back… No. Matter. What.
“Hold up,” Julio cautioned in that deep, wise voice that got under her skin every time he used it.
Breathing hard and sweating like a hog, she slowed just enough to spare him a perturbed glance. He didn’t look as weary as she felt, or as tired. But he was angry. It radiated off those tensed muscles up his neck and across his heaving chest. His eyes were darker black now, his jaw looked square and carved out of stone. The short stock rifle he carried swept continually from side to side, as if he expected another ambush. Smart man.
“What?” she asked, jerking out of his touch. Then instantly regretting it. Man, that sudden move hurt almost as bad as walking. Worse, the bleak shadow that passed through those dark eyes of his told Meg she’d hurt Julio’s feelings by pulling away.
He shut that response down before she could apologize or explain how much this rescue mission meant. There was notryin this day, justdo, do, do,damn it! Just save Dominic before his asshole father hurt him anymore. Just die trying if it came to that.
Still trudging at her side like a loyal dog, Julio asked quietly, “Have you been inside Zapata’s bunkers? His cellblocks? His lair?”
“Nope, but I’m sure as fuck going in today.” A warrior’s need to curse Zapata back to Dante’s seven levels of Hell filled Meg’s soul. “Going to kick his ass, kill him, and take my kid,” Meg growled with confidence. Then she thought to ask, “Have you?”
“Once.” Julio replied. “It’s built of concrete blocks. Fifteen-inch-thick, square, concrete blocks. Not hollow like the ones you find at Home Depot, but solid concrete. There are no windows in two of the three outbuildings. All have steel, barred doors that will be locked. The only way in is with the keys Zapata wears around his neck, or through the narrow openings beneath those doors, where water, food, or live rats are shoved in.”
Meg swallowed hard. Still marching, never hesitating, but… “Live rats?”
Julio nodded grimly. “Sometimes snakes and spiders. Anything to torment his prisoners, the women and girls he keeps there.”
Whoa.She hadn’t expected those scenarios. But okay then. Neither rats, snakes, nor spiders would stop her from savng Dominic. But they did make her think.Women and girls, huh?“How do you want to do this? How many guards do you think he’s got? Where should we hit first?”
Man, how she wished for one of those tank killing LAWs. Nothing could stop her then.
But why was anyone, man or woman, ever loyal to monsters like Zapata? Or Hitler? Or Lenin, Stalin, and Putin? That, she’d never understand. This had to be hell for Julio though, reliving the exact same scenario that had gone so wrong only two short years ago.
Meg shoved her feelings aside. This rescue would not end with suicide and failure to thrive. Never! Once she had Dominic back in her arms, she’d smuggle him into the States if she had to. She’d get him the best help she could find. He would live a long life. Zapata could go to hell!
Julio pulled her to an abrupt stop. Which did not help. Moving was better. Not moving made her instantly dizzy and tired. Made her want to drop to her ass and rest for a spell.
His sharp eyes noticed when she slapped a palm to the nearest tree trunk. It was either that or fall down. Instantly, he pulled another bottled drink out of his bag and pushed it into her hands. But to open it, she had to lean her back into the tree to balance. It still took too long fumbling the cap off. Turning it to break the seal took more strength than she had, and Meg knew she was on the verge of exhaustion. But she refused to fall back or hold off, not until she had Dom. Sleep and rest could wait. He couldn’t.
“Are you sure about this?” Julio asked when she was finally able to take a sip.
Her hands shook even as she lifted that sixteen ounce bottle. And there she was, the weak link again. Shaking from shock, and, okay, wounded, damn it. Meg nodded her determination. “I’m not leaving without Dominic.”
“Okay then.” He jerked that bolt-action MK-13 up high into his shoulder. Nearly into his injured bicep. Meg remembered then. She wasn’t the only one hurt here, yet Julio had never complained nor shirked his duty despite his wounds. And that pain in his heart from losing Tomas had to be killing him all over again. This had to feel like an instant replay of what he’d lived through when he’d rescued Tomas.
She stared into the trees, her heart broken for the man she loved, yet breaking all over again for the child she very well might lose today. She and Julio. If only she were made of stronger stuff.
“We go in fast and we shoot to kill,” he told her sternly, the light in his eyes gone flat. His jaw set a fierce angle and his voice cold and hard. “Don’t look for Zapata or his armed guards. I’ll take care of them. Just locate Dominic. Don’t save anyone else. Don’t listen to anyone crying. Don’t speak. Don’t fall. If it’s not Dominic, keep moving. Keep your eyes on the goal, Meg, not the obstacles.”
That frightened her. “Who… who else is in there?”
Julio shook his head. “No one we can help. We’re here for Dominic only. Don’t forget him for one damned second. Waste anyone who gets between you and that boy, got it?”
Whoa. Julio had just morphed into one badassed warrior again. His black eyes were hard as flint, and she could swear his jaw had turned into an iron anvil. Each command came out clipped and final. Mean.
“L-let’s do this,” she replied with as much bravado as she could muster. “You lead. I’ll follow.”
Meg stuffed the nearly full bottle into her shirt. Dom would need it. He was the important one here, not her. Not anyone else. If she fell today, Julio would make sure Dom made it out of Brazil and was adopted by decent, kind people. Maybe even by him. That’d be nice. They needed each other.
Okay then. They were now within sight of a couple concrete structures that scared the bejesus out of her, they were so tall and wide and imposing. Didn’t matter. She’d already reloaded her weapon. The flimsy bag Zapata had let her keep, now carried two full magazines, courtesy of Julio’s masterful preparedness. It was time to shock the living hell out of Zapata and take back what he’d stolen. His son’s life!
