Mark Greaney by Ballistic

Mark Greaney by Ballistic

Author:Ballistic [Ballistic]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group USA, Inc.
Published: 2011-08-19T07:00:00+00:00


The two GOPES commandos embraced each other in the front driveway. They’d already said good-bye and good luck to the gringo and the surviving Gamboas. They’d packed water bottles and rolls into the pockets of their pants, taken fully loaded weapons from the dead marines lying around the house; they’d synchronized their watches and discussed the timing for going over the walls—Martin to the east and Ramses to the west. The men walked past their Suzuki crotch rockets and headed off in opposite directions, and Court stepped back inside.

It was only nine in the morning, and Court was dead tired. He had a plan to get out of here, sort of, but it was thin as hell and he knew it. It was so thin he’d decided to wait as long as possible to tell the Gamboas about it, because he was certain they would freak out. But he also knew it was the only possible way they could survive.

Court stopped in the kitchen for some fresh coffee, took it with him to the rear mirador, and sat on the tile there and sipped.

He looked to his watch. Ten minutes from now Ramses and Martin both planned to be at the wall, on opposite sides of the hacienda. Court could not see either from his vantage point, so he just sat and waited. Hoped like hell he did not hear any gunfire.

Five minutes now. Laura had come up to see him, had asked him if he thought it was okay for her to take a nap in the cellar. He told her to catch a few hours because she’d need it later, and then she’d lingered a minute longer. She thanked him for all he had done. He’d said no problem; they looked into each other’s tired eyes a few seconds longer, and then she’d drifted back down the stairs.

His tired eyes followed her. Damn she was beautiful. Tough and resolute but kind and gentle. He wondered what it would be like to touch her, to feel her touch him, to just be somewhere quiet and safe, and to be together.

Fuck. I’m getting delirious.

Court shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts. Still, he knew now that Eddie had been right about his sister all those years ago. She was something special.

Court looked at his watch. It was time. Right this second both men should be on the top of the wall—one on the east side, one on the west side—looking for a break in the patrols of the corrupt federales , hoping to beat the odds and make a run for freedom.

No gunshots. That was good. Not so far any—

A motorcycle’s engine revved in the driveway on the opposite side of the casa grande. What the fuck? Who the hell—

Court leapt to his feet, ran from the veranda into the bedroom and into the hall, took the stairs three at a time into the sitting room, sprinted past the kitchen. Diego was there, and he ran behind Court as they made it into the entry hall and opened the front door.


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