'Holy s.h.i.t,' Dwight said, 'the bad guys are going down. Someone's shooting them. Pan north.'

The Predator's sixty-six-foot wingspan allowed it to fly slowly above a location. Its camera moved north of the fight scene until it showed a shooter pointing a rifle at the cartel men.

'He's hammering them,' Lance said.

'He's rescuing the two hostages,' Dwight said.

'h.e.l.l of a firefight.'

'Literally,' Lance said. 'Look.'

He panned the camera south, but not very far. Flames from the wildfire were coming closer.

'Fixin' to be some fried Mexican food for the coyotes.'

'Oh, man,' Grady the co-pilot said. 'I love flautas.'

'Shut up, Grady.'

Carla crawled up the rise; the truck was parked on the other side. She did not want to leave Book, but she knew he was right. They would both die.

'That's a female,' Dwight said.

She was trying to escape. She ran hard through the desert brush, stumbled several times, got up and ran again ...

Carla ran hard until a hand came out of the darkness and grabbed her arm.

Chapter 36.

Book crawled through the chaos then got to his feet and ran low to the ground and into the desert. He scrambled up the rise; on the other side, he stopped and called out to Carla. A voice answered, but not her voice. A male voice.

'Hey, Professor.'

Two figures walked out of the darkness and into the light provided by the wildfire. One was Carla; the other was- 'Jimmy John?'

He wore a red jumpsuit and carried an a.s.sault rifle over his shoulder.

'What the h.e.l.l are you doing out here?'

'Shooting a few Mexicans.' He chuckled. 'I spotted your truck outside the well site, figured you two were gonna get yourself in a mess of trouble, so I followed you. But why'd you follow the tankers?'

'To get it on tape,' Carla said. 'So we can shut Billy Bob down.'

'Let's get out of here,' Book said. 'Before that fire reaches us.'

'So Billy Bob's contaminating the groundwater with the frack fluid?' Jimmy John asked. 'That's what those papers proved?'

'No.'

'Then what?'

'He's dumping the flow-back out here in the desert,' Carla said. 'To cut costs. That's illegal. It'll flow into the Conchos, then the Rio Grande. We can put Billy Bob in prison and shut down his frack wells.'

'She right, Professor?'

'Yes.'

Jimmy John sighed then pulled the rifle off his shoulder and pointed it at Book.

'I'm sorry, Professor, but I can't let that happen.'

'Is he pointing the weapon at them?' Dwight said.

'Looks that way,' Lance said.

'For Christ's sake. He rescued them, now he's taken them hostage? What the f.u.c.k is going on?'

'Welcome to Mexico.'

'You ran Nathan off the road,' Book said.

'I wasn't trying to kill him. I was trying to get him to pull over, so I could talk some sense into him. He was gonna take his proof to the media, like that queer Kenni with an "i" wanted him to. Kenni got him into that queer stuff, thinking he could be an artist, live in New York, smoking dope. Got him thinking like the Chin.a.z.is. Turned him against fracking. Against us. Against me. Like he didn't care about us no more. Like he found better friends. He knew going public would've cost me my job. I begged him, Professor. But he didn't care.'

'Nathan died for your job?'

'You ever not had a job, Professor? You ever go to the store and have to count your pennies to see if you can buy food? You ever live in a dump trailer on the Mexican side of town? You ever look in the mirror every morning and see a loser? Well, I have. Most of my life. But not since I got a job. You shut down fracking, I lose my job. I can't go back to that life, Professor. A life without a job.'

Jimmy John swiped a sleeve across his nose. It was bleeding.

'You drive a big black pickup. You ran us off the road.'

'You wouldn't go home and mind your own G.o.dd.a.m.n business.'

'You hurt Nadine.'

'Well, what the h.e.l.l were you doing, putting her on the back of that Harley? That ain't responsible.' He paused. 'Did she ask about me?'

Carla pointed south. 'The wildfire, it's closer.'

'What are you going to do, Jimmy John? Kill us, then go back and ask Nadine out?'

'Well ... not right away.'

'You figure the sheriff will blame it on the Mexicans?'

Jimmy John pulled a baggie out of his back pocket and tossed it on the ground.

'Mexican black tar heroin. Drug deal gone bad. It happens. I'm sorry, Professor. I like you. Not so much Carla, but you're a good guy, came out here for Nathan just 'cause he was your student back then. I wish it didn't have to end this way.'

'Jimmy John, the sheriff will figure this out.'

'We're in Mexico, Professor. Two more dead bodies don't mean nothin' this side of the river.'

An explosion south of their location sent a fireball into the sky. Jimmy John flinched and glanced that way. Book grabbed Carla, and they ran a few steps into the dark desert then dove into the brush. Bullets zipped through the air over their heads.

'Nowhere to go, Professor. Only coyotes and wolves out there, and they'll eat you both for breakfast.'

Book picked up a rock and threw it at Jimmy John. He twirled and fired but missed.

'Give it up, Jimmy John.'

Book peppered Jimmy John with more rocks.

'I pitched in high school.'

He hit him in his back, his leg, and his face. Jimmy John clamped a hand against his head.

'You got a headache? You want an Advil?'

'You're p.i.s.sing me off, Professor.'

Screams sounded from the other side of the rise where the sky burned bright orange.

'The wildfire!' Carla said.

More explosions sent more fireb.a.l.l.s into the sky.

'The fire's reached the tanker trucks,' Book said.

'We've got to get out of here, make a run for the truck,' Carla said. 'The wind's pushing that fire our way, fast.'

Book threw another rock to the east of Jimmy John-he spun that way-then ran to the west; Book attacked Jimmy John from his rear. Jimmy John heard his footsteps and swung the rifle around, but Book launched himself feet first and struck Jimmy John before he could fire. The rifle went flying, and they went sprawling into the dirt. Book jumped to his feet; Jimmy John did not. He lay in a heap. Then he started crying. Sobbing uncontrollably. After a moment, he pushed himself up; his nose was bleeding. He grabbed his head with both hands.

'Come on, Jimmy John! We've got to outrun the fire!'

'I can't go back to that life. No job and n.o.body.'

'You want to burn to death?'

Book helped Jimmy John to his feet.

'Come on!' Book yelled.

'I'm sorry, Professor.'

Jimmy John Dale turned and ran up the rise toward the fire. Just as he crested the rise, the flames came over and engulfed him. He fell down the other side.

'Jesus!' Dwight Ford yelled at the video screen. 'He ran into the fire!'

'They better get out of there!' Lance said.

The Predator's camera caught the flames of the wildfire as it engulfed the tanker trucks and set them afire, causing several to explode in fireb.a.l.l.s. Cartel men tried to outrun the flames but failed.

'Wind's blowing at forty-three knots,' Lance said. 'I'm having a h.e.l.l of a time controlling this bird.'

The flames ran across the desert toward the two figures.

'Run!'

Book grabbed Carla's arm; they sprinted to the truck. He jumped into the driver's seat and she into the pa.s.senger's. He fired up the engine, shifted into gear, and floored the accelerator. They sped down the dirt road. He saw the flames in the outside rearview; the fire was chasing them to the border.

'Follow them,' Dwight said.

The Predator's camera followed the pickup racing north to the river, fishtailing around curves but staying on the road. The camera panned north to the river.

'Look,' Lance said. 'That's a Border Patrol SUV.'

On the north side of the river was a large vehicle. Two men stood facing south.

'Thank G.o.d,' Dwight said. 'Those are the good guys. My guys.'

Border Patrol Agent Wesley Crum peered through the night-vision binoculars into Mexico.

'Man, look at that f.u.c.king wildfire. And explosions. I'm telling you, Angel, something big is going down in the desert. Let's call in the Predator.'

'Can't. It's over Nuevo Laredo.'

'How do you know?'

'Daily ops bulletin.'

'Then let's call in the cavalry, set a trap for those tanker trucks when they come back to this side.'

Wesley spotted something.

'Look! One of the pickup trucks is coming back. I think it's Carla and the professor.'

Angel sighed. 'I'm sorry, Wesley.'