Dead Man's Land Jack Patterson (classic novels txt) 📖

their favor after everything seemed to be turning against them.

Before they could start to plan how they might draw out Prado, Torres’s phone buzzed again and he answered it.

“How’s your mission coming along?” asked a man with a heavy Spanish accent.

“We don’t have him, if that’s what you mean,” Torres said.

“What? You don’t have him? Why not?”

“We’ve got him cornered out here in the woods somewhere, but we need a little more time.”

The man grunted. “You don’t have more time. We need to talk to him as soon as possible.”

“I’m doing my best,” Torres said.

“Try harder. We don’t have room for failure.”

“Look, I’m—we’re—doing everything we can, but it just might take a while. You can’t just snap your fingers and have whatever you want in this country, contrary to what you might believe.”

“I don’t want everything—I just want Vicente Prado. Is that so hard to understand?”

Torres let out a long breath. “I can assure you that you won’t be disappointed in the end result.”

“I hope not,” the man said. “Because if we don’t have Vicente Prado here within three days, we’re going to torture your aunt.”

“She didn’t do anything.”

“And you haven’t done anything yet. So let’s stay focused on the task at hand. Bring Vicente Prado to me and all will be well.”

“We’re still getting paid, right?”

Click.

The man hung up. Torres didn’t know if money or family was his motivating factor now—but it didn’t matter. Both proved sufficient in coaxing him to do what needed to be done. And if his actions caused his aunt to die, he could never forgive himself.

Torres wheeled the car around and headed back down the road. “We need to start our search further away from here. We can’t risk any potential involvement from any forest rangers or cops. Our search from here on out needs to be done my way, under my rules and my leadership. Is that clear?”

Ortega nodded. “Crystal.”

“Good, now let’s get out here and start walking the trail that runs by the river.”

Torres pulled his Hummer into a pullout area mostly shrouded from the road with a line of thick trees. They got out and started along the path.

The light trickling through the trees made it easier to see, something Torres hoped would eliminate any future wild goose chases—or in the case of Ortega, wild deer chases. Ortega walked in front and pointed up ahead. “You see that?”

Torres nodded. He finally laid eyes on Prado before he tapped Ortega. “Don’t screw it up this time, okay? We’ve got to catch him, no matter what it takes.”

Ortega looked over his shoulder and smiled at Torres. Then he exploded down the path, running toward Prado, who still hadn’t turned around.

CHAPTER 13

CAL PEERED INTO THE WOODS, trying to find any sign of Prado. He was sure that his instructions to remain there and wait for him were clear. It certainly couldn’t have had anything to do with the language barrier since Cal had interviewed athletes raised in the U.S. who weren’t half as articulate in their first language as Prado was in his second.

Where did he go?

Cal crept down to the path and looked for Prado. Nothing.

He returned back to the shed and slumped to the ground, his back resting on the wooden clapboard structure.

They still had a few hours before Kelly was scheduled to arrive and pick them up, but success for Cal’s plan was predicated on them remaining together and hidden until she showed up. With Prado wandering the Umatilla National Forest, he was at risk of being captured, injured, or killed. And it wasn’t just the two men hunting Prado that posed a threat. There were also black bears, wolves and cougars roaming around that could do just as much harm to an unarmed man.

Think, Cal. What could make him leave? Where would he go?

Cal leaned toward the corner of the shed and looked around it. The house seemed quiet, as did the road. Other than a random car or truck that sped by, it felt like a wilderness area. The birds overhead broke the natural silence, but the woods remained serene.

Cal scooted toward the other side of the shed and looked around the corner. Perched atop a small rise about fifty yards away was another shed. Cal remembered seeing its outline in the moonlit shadows, but now that it was getting brighter, it appeared to be a more substantial structure than the one he was taking cover against. Not only that, but the door appeared to be cracked.

Cal hunched low to the ground as he hustled toward it. He opened the door and went inside.

Standing upright, Cal jumped back a few feet when he came face-to-face with a dark, shadowy man.

“Cal?” Prado asked.

“Vicente? What are you doing in here?” he whispered.

“I thought I would try to find us some tools, perhaps a weapon in case we were confronted by those men again.”

Cal shook his head. “If they have guns, it won’t matter what we’ve got.”

“What about this?” Prado said, holding up an iron structure.

“A bear trap? How is that gonna help?”

Prado shrugged. “Just an idea.”

“The best idea is for us to stay quiet and out of sight until my wife comes and picks us up.”

“When is she going to be here?”

“Not much longer. Maybe another couple of hours or so. It depends on how fast she drives.”

“What about the police?” Prado asked. “Won’t they come look for us?”

“Maybe, but they wouldn’t have any idea that we would be this far from the original point where the kidnappers tried to abduct us. I’m afraid we’re on our own until she arrives.”

Prado sat down on a bench in the corner of the building. “Do you think we’re going to make it without getting caught?”

“You never know, but if I were a betting man, I’d bet on your chances. You didn’t end up here by accident, did you?”

Prado shook his head. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for a long time.”

“Hiding in a shed in the