A Voice from the Field (31 page)

“Delafield.” She took him by the chin and shook his head. “Curtis.” Delafield mumbled a response and she knelt beside him. This close, she could see that his face was a mask of bruises and blood. His shirt was torn and bloodied.

She needed to get him out of here. It was time to blow the lid off this thing and rain down on the area with some cops.

Adrenaline surged through Tia as she realized that if Delafield wasn't at the takedown location Kane probably wasn't either. In that same instant she heard the flip of a switch and the stage was flooded with light from overhead.

“You sure are a predictable bitch.”

She recognized the voice that came from beyond the curtain of light, but for some reason she felt no fear. “Step up, Kane. Out here where I can see you.”

With her forty cal still at the low ready, she stared across the space between them, trying to make out a shadow or a shape. She told herself, if she got a shot she'd take it. A moment later she heard the distinct sound of a suppressed round leaving a barrel, followed by the splat of a lead bullet hitting bone and flesh. Tia felt no pain and it was Delafield whose body jumped, jerking against the ropes. He came to life enough to scream into the gag, then trailed off into sobs and silence. His knee now looked like a bowl of cherry Jell-O.

“Three seconds to drop the piece or the next one's in his chest. One, two—”

Tia raised her left hand and bent her knees, lowering herself to the ground. She set her firearm on the dirt floor, then slowly stood back up.

Kane emerged into the light. She hadn't seen him since the jail visit. He hadn't improved.

“I figured you'd be showing up. You should have heeded my advice, Suarez. I told you to stay clear of me.”

“I was thinking the same thing, Kane.” Her voice brimmed with confidence. “Your window is closing.”

Kane stole a look at his watch. “True enough. I do need to be heading out. But since you dropped by, maybe we should take a minute to settle our differences once and for all. Seal the deal, you might say.”

Despite the dire circumstances, Tia found herself to be astonishingly calm.

“I'm guessing you made Delafield for a fed.” Tia looked back at the wounded man. Blood still flowed from his knee. She thought,
Without attention he's gonna bleed out right here.
“You know, they'll pursue your ass to the end of the earth if he dies.”

“You came for the girl, right, Suarez? I know she's got you all spun up.” Kane held up two fingers separated by an inch of space. “You're this close, but it turns out that's as close as you'll get.”

Kane stepped farther into the light. He carried a military-style AR-15, the barrel pointing somewhere between her shins and her heart.

“I'll give you this, Suarez: you are doggedly persistent. That is the damn truth.” Kane cocked his head at Delafield. “I'd sooner have to deal with a dozen of these federal dicks than one of you. But in the end, it's like I told you. You'd have been better off staying home.”

Tia stood straight. She put her hands out, palms up. “You do what you're going to do, Kane. But, one way or another, this will be the end of the line for you. I don't know how the feds will feel about it, but I can guarantee you'll have ten thousand cops from here to California hunting your ass. They'll make book on who gets to take you out.”

Kane gestured at several wooden crates stacked nearby. “I've got bargaining power, Suarez. I can lay low with folks who will be more than happy to help me outrun the law.”

“Like I told you from the beginning, Kane. It ain't going to go like that. It doesn't matter where you hide.”

A hint of respect showed on Kane's face. He smiled and said, “I tell you, Suarez, what you lack in perception you more than make up for in gumption. But in case you missed it, this is where it ends for you.”

Kane raised his rifle and in that instant, in a moment that caught both adversaries mid-breath, a red dot materialized on his forehead. The red laser light glinted as it streamed through the darkness beyond the bright circle cast by the bulb over Tia's head. Tia watched Kane turn cross-eyed, trying to track the source of the beam. Without turning to look, she could tell that it ran over her shoulder and out the open door, and probably on into the cornfield beyond.

The big man stood statue still. Tia smiled to herself, considering just how quickly the tables had turned. She understood exactly what was at stake and she figured she'd better explain things to Kane, who was probably desperately trying to find another option.

“Don't move, Kane.” She raised her fist in a military signal to hold position. “If you so much as twitch that gun, you're dead.”

“What the hell, Suarez?” Kane's voice was both enraged and laced with defeat. “Who's out there?”

“No matter.” Her fist still in the air, Tia took a step away from the door, to provide an even clearer line of sight between shooter and target. “Just let the rifle fall. Whatever you do, don't lift it.”

Kane opened his hands and the gun fell to the ground. Tia kept her fist raised and waited. The laser began to bob ever so slightly, but the red dot never left the kill zone. A minute passed before she sensed movement behind her. Outfitted head to toe in a brown ghillie suit, Connor Anderson stepped up to take a flanking position alongside her, sniper rifle poised and ready at his shoulder. She shot a quick glance at the weapon and saw that his finger was on the trigger. Once Connor stopped walking, she heard the click of his site aperture and the laser disappeared.

“I think I can hold on him with the iron sights from here,” Connor said.

“Step away from the rifle,” Tia said. “Get on the ground.”

Kane glared at them both, then dropped to the dirt floor, spread-eagle. Connor looked at Tia and she saw that his face was entirely hidden behind camouflage and dark green paint. He said, “Help is on the way. Do what you gotta do. I got this.”

Dazed but energized, Tia moved to the wooden stage. Pulling a knife from her pocket, she cut the ropes binding Delafield to the chair. His breathing was labored but steady. She hooked her arms under his and pulled him off the stage, laying him on his back on the dirt floor.

Without taking his eyes or his aim off their prisoner, Connor called out, “Top pouch, right side.”

Moving quickly while making sure she never got between Connor and his target, Tia ripped the first-aid kit off the Velcro that attached it to his harness. There wasn't much she could do beyond packing the wound, but she did that and hoped the help Connor had mentioned would soon arrive.

In the silence that had fallen Tia could hear the faint whine of a siren in the distance.
Good,
she thought, listening harder. Then she heard something else. Something much closer.

Voices. Female voices. Coming from somewhere near the stage, somewhere … underneath?

Then another voice, with an entirely different sound, called out in a way Tia knew only she could hear.

Ella aqui.

 

THIRTY-NINE

Angelica was once again on the porch, her mother beside her shucking corn and singing a familiar song.

I came home once before,
Angelica thought. Like before, the pain was gone. Her body felt alive and youthful. The world around her was full of color and the sounds of the country. She turned to her mother and implored her, “How do I stay this time, Mama? I don't want to leave again.”

Her mother smiled, saying what a beautiful young woman she had grown into. How she had missed her sweet Angelica. How sorry she was to see her leave at such a young age.

“I don't want to leave, Mama. I will stay here. I won't go back.” She looked up and saw the hawk, circling high above her head. Angelica watched, waiting for him to dive down and scoop her up, but instead he soared higher into the sky.

Voices came from above, but she blocked them out. One was a familiar voice. A strong voice.

“
Mija.
Come to me.”

But no. She would stay here. The music of her mother's singing filled her ears. She would not leave. The hawk flew higher until he was a small speck in a wide, blue, cloudless sky. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smells of home, nestling close to the warmth of her mother.
This is where I will stay,
she thought.
This is where I belong forever.

“Mija. Ven a mi!”
The voice sounded as though it came from a far distant place. Another world.

Angelica looked up. The hawk had disappeared and her heart was still and filled with peace.

 

FORTY

Tia looked down and saw that the stage was really nothing more than a wooden box set flush against the dirt. She bent down, took hold of the corner of the stage, and lifted. As she suspected, it wasn't fastened to anything. It was heavy, but not too heavy to shift. She began dragging it backward, leaving ruts in the dirt floor. The box jerked in her grasp a couple of times, bumping over small obstacles of some kind, but continued to move.

As Tia cleared the stage out of the way, the trapdoor was revealed. When she saw it, she was shocked into immobility for a second, then pulled harder and faster to clear access to the wooden hatchway. Once she was certain there was room, she dropped the stage and rushed to the trapdoor, which was chained and padlocked. She could hear a woman shouting from below. A child was crying.

How many people are down there?

She exchanged a glance with Connor, who gave her a single nod, signaling the confidence he held in her. He kept his rifle trained on the prone figure of Kane. A dozen or more sirens wailed from the highway, growing closer by the second.

She dropped to her knees and shouted through the door, “Move as far back as you can!”

Tia pressed her ear to the wood and heard sounds of shuffling and hushed voices. She got to her feet and studied the lock, determining the safest angle from which to take a shot. She fired once, hitting the padlock dead center. Though damaged, the lock remained closed.

A second round did the trick; the metal exploded into pieces, scattering bits of shrapnel about the area. Tia rapidly pulled the chain through the hasp and threw back the trapdoor. She dropped to the ground, her head and torso projecting into the opening, and stretched one hand out in front of her, reaching into the darkness of the pit.

“
Mija,
” she called. “Come to me.”

When there was no answer, Tia yelled again.
“Mija. Ven a mi!”

A woman called out in English, “Please. Help us.”

Without hesitation Tia scrambled into a sitting position on the edge of the opening, feet dangling into the hole. She jumped into the blackness of the pit, landing hard on the dirt floor but staying on her feet, gun at the ready. A small child rushed toward her and encircled her legs in his arms. Tia heard the cries of the others and tried to sound reassuring.

“Calm down,” she said, half-shouting. She scanned the area with her flashlight. “I'm Detective Suarez, Newberg PD. I'm here to help you.”

The woman, her once-bright dress covered in dirt, began to cry. “Where is my husband? I need my husband.”

Tia aimed her flashlight in the woman's direction. “Who are you?”

“I'm Elaine Delafield. My husband is Agent Curtis Delafield. Do you know where he is?”

The sirens were close. It sounded like every cop in Wisconsin was headed their way. “Your husband is going to be okay, ma'am. Please stay calm. Help is coming. I'll get you out of here.”

Tia scanned the small enclosure. A storm shelter, not unlike the one on the farm where she'd grown up, less than ten miles away. Basically a featureless box in the earth. Tia turned to Mrs. Delafield.

“Ma'am,” Tia said gently, more in control of her voice, “is there anyone else here? A young girl? About the same age as your daughter?”

When Mrs. Delafield spoke, her voice was hesitant. “In the corner.” She gestured toward a dark corner of the pit. “But she—”

Tia spun, shining her light into the corner, revealing a figure under a blanket. She flew to it.

The familiar face was quiet and serene. Tia stroked her hair.
“Estoy aqui, mija. Estoy aqui.”

Tia pulled back the blanket and saw that the young woman's slender body was covered with bruises. She took the girl's cold hand in her own, noting how pale it was, how still the body was. A trail of blood ran from the young girl's ear; Tia could tell from the way it reflected the beam of the flashlight that it was still moist, not yet dry.

“She died about an hour ago,” Mrs. Delafield said quietly, close behind. Tia glanced back and saw that the woman had drawn near, leaving her children on the other side of the space

In the same soft tones, she continued, “I'm a nurse. I did all I could, but…” She paused to stifle a cry. “She protected us. She fought one of them and he beat her terribly.

“I tried to stop him—” Her voice broke then and she turned away. Her daughter stepped forward and embraced her.

Tia sat still, stroking the dead girl's long black hair, pushing it away from her face. She heard a dozen voices overhead, men shouting. A ladder was dropped into the pit and a moment later the space was full of Waukesha deputies and officers of Newberg PD. One of them was Travis Jackson, who pushed through the group to Tia's side.

“Tia, are you all right? What the hell happened up there? We need to get everyone out of here. This is a major crime scene.”

Tia looked at the girl's face and saw peacefulness. Serenity. Her skin was dirty but still smooth. Her mouth was shaped into a slight smile as if something had brought a happy thought to her mind.

“Tia, come on,” Jackson said. “We've got to clear this area.”

“Leave her alone, TJ.” Ben Sawyer's voice, conveying both an order and concern. Tia did not look around.