The SUV drifted across an empty parking lot bordering Mariposa Boulevard, headed toward a smaller lot on the other side of the building. The parking area looked to be concealed from the boulevard by a screen of bushes and small palm trees lining the road, but that privacy came with a price. There was only one way in or out of the lot.

"I can drive," she blurted. "I've been napping off and on since Sonoyta. We can find a hotel along the interstate, south of Tucson. It has to be better than this."

"If we could count on just cruising down the freeway, I'd be all over you driving. But if we run into trouble, I need to be behind the wheel. Counterambush driving is its own thing, and I've been through more training than you'd believe," said David, easing the SUV into the small lot facing the motel office. "This actually doesn't look that bad-and the town is quiet."

"Creepy is a better word," she said.

"We'll gas up the car, have breakfast, and take a short nap. Back on the road in a few hours," said David.

"This is the last place anyone would look for us," said Nathan.

Her husband didn't sound convinced by his own statement. She could read him well enough to decipher the subtleties of his inflection. Then again, the last forty-eight hours had demonstrated they weren't safe anywhere. There was no reason for Nathan to sound convinced.

David pulled into one of the parking s.p.a.ces deep inside the lot, facing the two-story main building. To the SUV's left, beyond a wide concrete sidewalk, a row of four tightly s.p.a.ced motel room doors extended from the corner office to a breezeway that pa.s.sed through the main structure. She glanced over her shoulder at the opposite side of the lot, seeing that it backed up against a row of tall palm trees. The backs of several businesses crowded the line of trees, separated by a narrow service road.

Even if David could manage to squeeze the SUV between the palm trees, which she doubted, there was no way he could turn onto the strip of asphalt behind the business building. The only way out of this parking lot was back the way they came. Keira decided not to bring it up. Surely both David and Nathan had considered it.

"We'll refuel first, in case we need to leave unexpectedly, then figure out the room situation," said David. "We should probably take a room on the second floor, where we can see the car."

Nathan turned in his seat. "How's Owen doing?"

"Asleep."

"Why don't you get him moving while we refuel."

She opened her door to get some fresh air. As soon as they parked, the temperature inside the vehicle spiked, leaving stuffy, dust-caked air. She hadn't minded the dust while cool air poured through the cabin during their all-night, open-window ride, but now it was intolerable. She couldn't imagine what the motel room was going to feel like. Within a short span of time, the sun would be beating down on the rooms. Whatever the reasoning for stopping, Keira still wished like h.e.l.l they had kept going. The thought of hiding inside a sweltering, stagnant room for a few hours was repugnant. She was losing it for no reason, she told herself.

While David and Nathan topped off the vehicle, she woke Owen, preparing him for their transfer to one of the rooms. Nathan leaned inside her door while Owen stretched.

"Hey, bud. We're taking a short break here before we get back on the road."

"Mom told me," said Owen, still looking half-asleep. "I'm pretty hungry."

"We'll bring our packs into the room. You can eat whatever you want."

"How are we going to get into a room?" said Keira.

Secretly, she hoped the rooms were locked. Without electricity, they probably wouldn't be able to open any of the doors, even if they managed to find a master key in the office or on a custodian's cart. They could try to kick one of the doors in, but she suspected they would move on instead.

"David thinks they lock in the open position when the batteries in the key-card reader fail," said Nathan. "It doesn't look like this place has had any power in a long time. I'm going to check a few of these doors."

"Be careful."

He nodded before walking toward the row of doors facing the SUV.

"I don't like this place," said Owen.

"Neither do I, but we won't be here long."

"How long?"

"A few hours," she said.

Owen looked genuinely frightened by her answer. "I think we should get out of here. It doesn't feel right."

Keira didn't know how to respond without scaring him even more. Instead of lying, she went with a half-truth and nodded toward Nathan, who stood in front of an open motel room door with a smile and a thumbs-up. He walked to the next room and opened another door effortlessly.

"Your father and David have gotten us this far," she stated a.s.sertively. "We'll be fine here."

She pulled him in for a hug, wishing that the motel room doors had been locked. Like Owen, she had a bad feeling about this place.

CHAPTER 34.

Jose stared through the windshield at the yellow-orange strip of sky lifting above the horizon. The sun would be up in a few minutes, and he sincerely hoped that Fisher was in Arizona by now. His last report from Alpha indicated they were on schedule to reach the border before sunrise, but you could never tell what might happen in Mexico, or anywhere in the Wastelands, which was why he had opted to bring three armored vehicles west.

They certainly hadn't antic.i.p.ated what happened in Sonoyta. Their intelligence sources had indicated only that the Sinaloa cartel had given up trying to send shipments through the town, not that they'd been encouraged to do so because Sonoyta had been converted into a helicopter gun range. He was even more surprised to discover American snipers hidden throughout the town. If Jose had known any of this, he would have routed Fisher south, toward the Sea of Cortez, and risked a broad daylight crossing. Sonoyta was supposed to be safe, if you didn't turn north and approach the border. Now the entire town was off-limits, by order of the US military.

What would his Mexican armed forces contacts think of that? Maybe they already knew and didn't care. The Mexican government had long ago quit fighting the cartels. If the United States was finally taking a more proactive stance, Mexico only stood to benefit in the long run. Cartel influence and its a.s.sociated violence had been a key talking point for US legislators keen on severing major trade ties with Mexico. His satellite phone buzzed moments after the sun peeked over the jagged hills ahead.

"Perfect timing. I was just about to check on our friends," said Jose.

"You're not going to believe this," said Alpha.

His heart sank.

"What happened? How bad is it?"

"No. It's nothing like that. They crossed the border without incident, but-"

Alpha paused.

"But what?" said Jose.

"They stopped at the Motel 6 on North Main Avenue," said Alpha. "Two miles from the border."

"Are you f.u.c.king kidding me?"

"I wish I were. We thought maybe they'd come under attack when they turned off Interstate 19, but their car continued at a normal pace. We tracked their transponder to the Motel 6."

"This can't be real. Something is up. Are you sure they don't know you're following them?"

"Not a chance. We stayed two miles back, running completely dark at all times."

"What are they doing right now?" he said, making eye contact with the operative driving the car and shaking his head.

"GPS maps them in the motel parking lot. We're in the lot of an abandoned strip mall just to the northwest. I can see the back of the motel from here."

"What the h.e.l.l are they doing? Why stop this close to the f.u.c.king border!"

"Maybe they're taking a break to refuel and eat. It's a two-story, L-shaped building set back from the road. The inner parking lot is mostly concealed from the road. Not a bad choice for a quick stop."

"I'm concerned they might take a longer break. Quinn made it clear that he needed to be the driver, for tactical reasons. He'd be on the verge of driving off the road by this point. My guess is they're stopping to rest," said Jose.

"I don't like it," said Alpha.

"Neither do I. One of you should head over right now and get a better grasp of the situation."

"I'll head over," said Alpha. "What's the play if this is more than a quick stop for them? We're stretched a little thin here."

"I'm on Interstate 8, halfway between Gila Bend and Interstate 10. That's two-plus hours from Nogales, so you're it for now."

His original plan had been to cross paths on the outskirts of Tucson and offer them help avoiding cartel checkpoints and marauding banditos. He'd instructed Alpha to remove any detailed city and state maps from the glove boxes of both SUVs and provide them with vague instructions to skirt west of Tucson. Without a comprehensive area map or onboard GPS navigation system, their chances of successfully navigating the outskirts were nearly nonexistent without help-which Jose would be more than happy to provide.

"I hope they're just stuffing their faces," said Alpha.

"Me, too. We collapsed the tunnel after crossing back into California. The cartel won't be happy about that, or the fact that we skipped out on our lease. I don't know how far or fast word will spread, but a.s.sume the worst. Keeping Fisher alive is our highest priority."

"You really think he's worth it?"

"He better be," said Jose. "Keep me posted."

"Copy that. I'll call you as soon as I'm done checking out the motel."

He lowered the phone, staring into the fiery orange circle slowly breaking free of the horizon. Alpha's team was the only thing standing between the failure and success of Jose's plan. He hoped they would be enough.

CHAPTER 35.

Leeds jolted awake from a deep sleep. Olmos was jamming a finger into his shoulder. It took him a few seconds to regain his bearings in the jet's aft cabin.

"What?" said Leeds.

"Flagg's on the line," Olmos said, sticking a phone in his face.

He sat up on the leather couch and took the phone, noticing sunlight through the partially opened window. A quick glance at his watch told him he'd been asleep for about two hours. Olmos backed into the doorway that separated the sleeping compartment from the main cabin. Beyond Olmos, the flight crew hustled toward the c.o.c.kpit. Something was up.

"Leeds," he said into the phone.

"Taking a nap? That's a good way to wake up dead, with the Russians around."

"They were pretty quiet last night," said Leeds. "Looks like your cartel contact came through?"

"I'm fairly confident they have," said Flagg. "An SUV carrying three adult pa.s.sengers wearing military-style helmets crossed the border at Nogales around five thirty. They were followed to a Motel 6, where they apparently took a room."

"They still have motels down there?"

"I thought you'd be more surprised by the fact that they stopped at a motel in the first place."

The engines started to whine, powering up from the low-fuel-consumption status they had maintained most of the night.

"Only three confirmed pa.s.sengers?"

"The kid may have been sleeping, or maybe he didn't survive your ambush. Frankly, we don't know who crossed the border in that car, but this fits the profile-and the vehicle isn't affiliated with the Sinaloa."

"It's the only scenario that fits," said Leeds, leaning across the cabin to raise the shade. Chukov's men were on their feet, slinging their weapons and moving toward the jet's stairs. It was about to get crowded and smelly inside the cabin.

"We'll soon find out," said Flagg. "You should arrive at the airport on the United States side in thirty-five minutes. My contact has arranged for the local jefe to meet you with transportation."

"How much cartel backup can I expect?"

"For the price I've paid, the question is, what do you need?"

"Discreetly placed lookouts, to start," said Leeds. "The sooner the better."

"The guy that followed them is watching their room from the motel office."

"That'll work," said Leeds. "I could use a few dozen men to create a reactive perimeter around the motel. Vehicle based and out of sight."

"I'll make it happen," said Flagg. "Do you want any of the cartel's people directly involved in the attack?"

"From what I've seen so far, Mexicans and Russians don't mix well. I'd prefer to keep them apart when the shooting starts. If the jefe protests, we can use one of his handpicked teams as a direct backup."

"All right. I'll send maps and satellite imagery to your laptop. Start managing Chukov's expectations again. I'd love to take at least one of the adults alive for questioning, preferably Nathan Fisher," said Flagg. "We had a little setback last night in Montana. Our team up there killed Fisher's dad in an unauthorized s.n.a.t.c.h-and-grab, pretty much cutting off any connection to the wife and Stuart Quinn. I don't want any loose ends out there, especially David Quinn."

The first Russian stepped into the forward cabin, slogging his way toward the back of the plane. Encased in body armor and carrying rifles, he squeezed through the doorway into the luxury seating area.

"Chukov's orders are to kill the Fishers and David Quinn. Period," said Leeds. "You need to take that up with Petrov."

"Just try. I'll pay twenty thousand dollars per surviving adult to each member of the team."

"What about the kid?"

"He won't know anything useful," said Flagg. "I'll be in touch."

Leeds moved into the main cabin to retrieve his laptop. Chukov's mercenaries had absolutely zero respect for personal property, particularly anything that couldn't directly kill someone. One of the brutes had unceremoniously snapped Olmos's wireless tablet in half with his head while Olmos was driving back from the bunker raid. Apparently, Olmos had asked the Russian to verify their return route to the airport from the CLM bunker, and the idiot couldn't figure out that he needed to remove his gloves to use the tablet screen.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed his laptop from the closest table and retreated back through the doorway. With eight seats in the main cabin, he shouldn't have to share s.p.a.ce with any of these animals. Wishful thinking. Chukov and his a.s.sistant team leader continued toward the back of the plane, ignoring the empty seats.