“What is this! This is my plane. You cannot be here!”
Peter smiled, “Oh, but we are here!”
Cardenas slumped and lifted his chin in defiance as the Rangers moved quickly to restrain him with belts and shoe laces from the dead Mexicans.
“Now, we’re going to take a little trip together.”
Stokes guarded Cardenas as Peter went forward to the cockpit. The pilot was armed but showed Peter his gun, without attempting to use it. Peter instructed him to turn toward El Paso, which the pilot obeyed immediately.
Back over Juarez, Peter used the plane’s radio to call El Paso control, clearing the way for a direct flight into the main airport with Hector Cardenas aboard. Once cleared to fly over the border, Cardenas was blindfolded and gagged. The rest of the flight was uneventful, ending the Reign of Terror.
Peace
Hours later, Peter had been resting his head on his forearms, leaning against the railing of her hospital bed. He needed rest, but wasn’t leaving her. She was sleeping with two IVs, one for fluids and one for antibiotics. She looked fresh and beautiful with clean hair and only minor scrapes and bruises visible above the pure white sheets. The nurses had been especially attentive.
She’d slept for hours before her head nodded. After a moment, she said, “Peter?”
He looked up and stood, stroking her hair. “Hi. How are you doing?”
She licked her lips. “Oh, I’ve felt better. You look good all cleaned up.” He was dressed in civilian clothes.
“Rachael, you’re gorgeous.”
She looked around asking, “What time is it?”
“Oh, around daybreak. The nurse said you’d be out for a while with the antibiotics.”
She reached both hands to his arm, pulling him down to kiss. “Thank you. Thank you and John.”
He spoke softly, still caressing her head, “He’ll be here, after some sleep. You can thank him then.”
“Peter, I was so scared.” Her eyes watered as they embraced.
“It’s over, Rachael. Cardenas is in jail — in El Paso.”
“You got him?”
“Yes. We got him. He’s cozy in U.S. custody.”
“Thank, God! That monster!” She looked away and started to cry.
“Sweetheart, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
She clutched his hand and pulled him down again, wrapping her arm around his neck with a firm grip. She couldn’t talk.
“Rachael. You need to rest and not worry about him anymore. I’ll be here with you and won’t leave.”
She lay back with a peaceful expression and started to doze again, under the influence of the drugs. He sat down beside her, finally allowing himself to relax.
He hadn’t slept for two days, and his eyes were heavy. He smiled lightly and started to doze off when she opened her eyes as he was drifting toward sleep. “Peter.”
“Ah, yes?”
“I want you to propose again.”
***END***
About the Author
Frank Perry has worked with the military since 1966, first on active duty, then with industry. His background includes military operations, technology and involvement in most of the systems and organizations included in his books. In addition to the military, he has thirty years of experience supplying solutions to Federal, State and Municipal law enforcement involving tactics and equipment. He is currently a consultant in surveillance technologies used for Homeland Security. He lives in coastal New Hampshire. He welcomes comments and ideas/suggestions for new material. Feel free to contact him at:
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