The Governor's Wife (60 page)

"But that was a clever try. Your wife does have beautiful legs."

"I need to help Jesse," Lindsay said.

"Yes. Of course."

She went to the doctor and dropped to her knees next to him.

"I need to cut his pants leg."

El Diablo tossed scissors from his desk to her. She cut the doctor's trouser leg.

"Will he live?" Bode said.

"He's in shock. I need blankets."

"In the closet outside."

Lindsay stood and went outside. She gagged at the sight of a decapitated man. But she went closer and picked up a gun with a long tube on the barrel lying nearby. She then opened the closet and removed several blankets. She placed the blankets over the gun. She went back inside and covered Jesse with a blanket.

But she held the gun.

"I did not want that," Enrique said to her husband. "This is not about the doctor. This is about you."

"You wanted me here. I'm here. Let them go. Let her save the doctor. Shoot me if you want, but let them go."

"Yes, okay."

Enrique raised the AK-47 and shot Bode.

"Bode!"

The force knocked him to the floor. Lindsay released the gun under the blanket and went to her husband. She knelt over him and checked his wound. The bullet had struck him in his right shoulder.

A hot, sharp pain burned through Bode's shoulder. He didn't think it was a fatal wound, but his right arm was useless. He reached into his coat pocket with his left hand.

"I love you, Lindsay. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't come here and beg you to come back to me. But I'm gonna get you and the doc back across the border. After I kill this son of a bitch."

El Diablo snorted. "You Texans, always with the cowboy talk."

He again pointed the AK-47 at Bode, but then seemed to think otherwise. He placed the gun on the desk then picked up the machete.

"You killed my son, Governor, now I must kill you. But I will not kill you like a coward, as you killed my son. I will kill you as a man …
mano a mano
."

He stepped closer with the machete. Bode pushed Lindsay away.

"I killed your son because he was gonna kill a young girl."

"No! Jesús would never have hurt a child! He would never violate the code!"

"He beat her, and he raped her! A twelve-year-old girl!"

"No! I do not believe you!"

"You don't want to believe it, but you know it's the truth. The girl said he did. The other kids witnessed it. Your son was a sick fucking bastard just like his daddy!"

El Diablo glared at the governor of Texas.

"I will kill you now."

"Bring it, you crazy-ass bastard! I'm not afraid to die!"

"Good—because you are about to."

He raised his machete, but Lindsay threw her body over Bode.

"
Señora
Bonner, move away. I do not want you hurt. But the governor, he must die. Now."

El Diablo reached down and took her shoulder to pull her away from Bode, and when he did his face came within reach of Bode's long left arm—which Bode swung up and across El Diablo's face. He stumbled backwards and grabbed his face. Blood oozed from between his fingers.

"
What …
what is that?"

Bode pushed himself up off the floor and held out the scalpel he had found in Jesse's coat. El Diablo seemed stunned.

"A
scalpel?
You brought a scalpel?"

"Doc did."

El Diablo's face now showed his renewed determination to kill the governor of Texas. Bode searched for weapons. On a shelf were signed baseballs on small stands. He grabbed one.

"Do not touch my
béisbols!
"

Bode threw the ball at El Diablo. He ducked. Bode threw another. He ducked again. Bode threw baseballs until he ran out. Of baseballs, not balls. Because his only goal in life—his last goal in life—was to get his wife and the doctor back across the border. So he now fought with an energy that came from fear of failure, not of death. El Diablo stepped forward and swung the machete with both hands, again and again, blood dripping from the cut on his face. Bode jumped and ducked, but he felt the sharp blade slice through the skin on his left arm and bring blood. He knew the odds were against him, so on the next swing, Bode rushed El Diablo and tackled him with a ferocity he hadn't felt in twenty-five years. He wanted to drive this son of a bitch into the tile floor more than he had ever wanted to drive an opponent into the turf of a football field. They went down to the floor hard, and he felt the air come out of El Diablo as Bode's full weight landed on top of him, and he heard the machete's metal blade slide across the floor. Bode's right arm hung limp, but he punched El Diablo with his left fist as they rolled across the hard tile. He was determined to beat El Diablo to death, and might have, but a sudden sharp pain consumed his body. El Diablo kneed him in his balls. He released his grip, and when he looked up, El Diablo stood over him with the machete raised.

"I now avenge my son's murder. I now have justice."

"Stop!"

El Diablo froze. Lindsay pointed Eddie's silenced Glock at him.

"Shoot him!" Bode said.

Enrique de la Garza smiled down at the governor of Texas.

"Oh, Governor, your wife and I have plans. She will not shoot me."

She shot him. Twice.

Enrique fell backwards against the desk, the pain in his chest fierce and hot. He had been shot three times before, but he knew instantly that this would be the final time. His eyes turned down to the holes in his chest. He put his free hand over the wounds, and it was soon bloody. His breath came harder now, and he spit blood. Enrique de la Garza would die that night in Nuevo Laredo. He turned his bloody palm up, then he turned to the governor's wife.

"But we had plans."

"That was my plan," the governor's wife said.

Enrique de la Garza would never again read the
inglés
to Carmelita or listen to Julio's Bach. He would never again experience romance or feel the love of a woman. He would die alone. He would die now. He dropped the machete and stumbled outside onto the balcony. He leaned against the railing and gazed down at his beloved
Río Bravo.

Bode pushed himself up and wiped blood from his face, his blood or El Diablo's, he didn't know. He stepped out onto the balcony. El Diablo leaned against the railing, breathing hard and bleeding profusely.

"Please, Governor, do not let my children see me like this."

"What do you want?"

"Help me over, so that I may die in the
Río Bravo
."

"Why should I?"

"Because we are not so different, you and I."

"How?"

"We both long for the love of a woman … the same woman. Yet neither of us shall have her love."

"You didn't kill me. I killed you."

"No. She killed me."

El Diablo turned and tried to hoist himself up and over the railing, but he was too weak. Bode shook his head then stepped closer and grabbed El Diablo to help him over the rail, but he suddenly felt a sharp pain. He groaned then backed away and looked down. El Diablo had stuck a switchblade deep in his gut.

"And now I have killed you, Governor. You will now die for murdering my son. That is justice. And I will now die with honor."

El Diablo threw himself over the railing. Bode heard a scream and turned to see Lindsay staring at the knife in his gut.

"Oh, God—Bode!"

He leaned over and looked down to the river. In the moonlight, he could see El Diablo's body sprawled on the riverbank a hundred feet below. Bode yanked the knife out and dropped it over the railing. Lindsay examined his wound.

"It's bad, Bode."

It was fatal. He knew it. He put his hand over the wound to stanch the bleeding. They went back inside and came face to face with a slender teenager with the face of an altar boy wearing black pants and a white shirt and pointing the AK-47 at Bode. The boy's hands trembled. Tears flowed down his face. He couldn't do it. He couldn't pull the trigger and kill a man. Bode walked to the boy and put his open palm on the boy's white shirt. He dragged his hand down and wiped his blood on the boy. He took the gun. Lindsay found a cloth and tried to stop the bleeding.

"Can you make it?"

"I'll get you both back across the river. If it's the last thing I do."

And he knew now it would be.

Jesse Rincón opened his eyes on a bloody scene. The governor's clothes were soaked with blood. Lindsay's hands were bloody. His own leg was bloody. And a boy stood there as if in shock, his shirt red with blood.

"Where is he?" Jesse said. "El Diablo?"

"Dead."

The boy walked out onto the balcony and peered over the rail. The governor leaned over Jesse.

"I can walk."

Jesse pushed himself up but fell into the governor's arms.

"The hell you can."

The governor dropped the AK-47 then hefted Jesse onto his shoulder.

Bode Bonner was the governor of Texas, and he sure as hell wasn't going to die in Mexico. He would die like a Texan. In Texas.

"Hand me my pistol."

His wife picked the gun up and held it out to him. He slid the Colt into his waistband. He then carried the doctor down three flights of stairs and to the front door. He stopped and drew the pistol.

"Open the door."

His wife pulled the door open on two armed guards. Bode shot them both with the Colt .44. He saw no more guards so they hurried to the four black Mercedes-Benz sedans parked in the circle driveway. Lindsay ran ahead and stuck her head into the nearest car.

"Keys, " she said.

"Get in," Bode said. "I'll drive."

"I will navigate," the doctor said. "I know the way out."

Bode helped the doctor into the passenger's seat. Lindsay climbed into the back seat. Bode went around to the driver's side and saw two armed men running toward them. He put them both down with the Colt. He got in and started the engine.

"Go, go, go!" the doctor said.

Bode punched the accelerator, and the big Mercedes lurched forward and through the gates as shots rang out behind them.

"They're coming after us!" Lindsay said.

"We've got to get to the bridge!"

"No!" the doctor said. "The
federales
will soon know we have killed El Diablo. They will not allow us to cross the bridge. We must go west, to the river. To the
colonia
. Turn right here.
César de López Lara
."

Bode veered onto the road and drove past a string of
cantinas
and cheap motels.

"They're behind us," Lindsay said.

"Left—there.
Avenida Álvaro Obregon
."

Bode hit the brakes hard and made a fast turn, clipping a parked car. They were now driving down a dark road through what appeared to be a tenement of dilapidated houses and old cars parked right outside the doors. Groups of two and three men and women loitered on corners. Bode felt a fever washing over him.

"Did we lose them?"

"Yes," Lindsay said.

Bode slowed so as not to kill a pedestrian on the narrow street, until he heard his wife's voice.

"No."

He sped up—until he saw headlights coming directly at him.

"Shit—this is a one-way road, Doc! And we're going the wrong way!"

"Turn right—
Calle Miguel Hidalgo.
"

Bode swung the big sedan right onto another narrow street then sped up. His face felt hot and wet with sweat, and blood ran down his right arm and out of his gut.

"I grew up in this neighborhood," the doctor said. "A major road is just ahead. We can try to outrun them."

Bode came to an
Alto
sign but he didn't
alto.
He veered to avoid cars parked along both sides through a little business district for five blocks then the road dead-ended into a four-lane roadway. The light was red, but—

"They're still behind us," Lindsay said.

"Left!" the doctor said.

Bode gunned the sedan through the light and turned south. Now they heard sirens.

"
Policía
," Lindsay said.

They had joined the chase from a side road and were now on their side.

"They're shooting at us!" Lindsay screamed.

Bullets hit the driver's side window, but did not penetrate the glass.

"I'll be damned. An armored car."

He glanced at the
policía
. They too were stunned. Bode stuck his middle finger up at them. He floored the accelerator and soon had the sedan running eighty. Two lanes ran south, so Bode had room to maneuver. He swerved around slower moving traffic and put some distance between them and the
policía
and El Diablo's men. He blew through another red light.