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a tap on his shoulder. It was Torres.

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Torres whispered. “They’re going to hand us over to the feds in exchange for their top assassin.”

“What? Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know, but there’s something your baseball friend isn’t telling you—and the feds want to know what it is.”

“How do you know all this?”

“A couple of gossipy guards stationed outside my window.”

Cal waited for a moment and then motioned for Torres to lean forward.

“What is it boss?” Torres whispered.

“How far are you willing to go to escape?” Cal asked.

“As far as it takes.”

Cal nodded. He then glanced at Prado, who was seated next to the window on the other side of the plane. Prado hung his head and looked down as he fidgeted with his hands. Cal wanted to talk with Prado, but it’d have to wait. With so much changing so fast, he hoped he could have a frank conversation before it was too late.

***

A LITTLE OVER FOUR HOURS LATER, they landed.

“Welcome to Matamoros,” the guard said. “Your journey will be over soon enough.”

“And a killer will soon be free,” Torres whispered to Cal.

Though Cal had never been to Matamoros, he’d read stories about the drug-related violence that had occurred there in recent years. It didn’t have many other claims to fame aside from being a Mexican border town separated from the Texas city of Brownsville by the Rio Grande River. The border patrol routinely made busts there with some of the more gruesome stories finding their way to the national news.

Kelly grabbed Cal’s hand and squeezed. He kissed her on the head and whispered, “We need to escape and we’re going to need your help to do it. Are you up for it?”

She nodded and didn’t look up at him.

The guard in the plane cabin trained his weapon on the group as they filed off the plane. Outside, another armed guard awaited them, and he directed them toward a dinged-up truck. He instructed them to all get in the truck bed. Once they were all in, he climbed in the back with them. The other gunman sat up front with the driver.

They rocked back as the vehicle accelerated quickly and peeled off the tarmac and onto a road just outside the Matamoros airport. In a matter of seconds, they were zipping through the streets, avoiding potholes and pedestrians.

Cal took a deep breath and inhaled the mixture of diesel fumes and garbage overwhelming his senses.

He saw a sign that said they were 10 kilometers from downtown Matamoros. That meant they didn’t have much time to figure out a way to stop the truck and escape before they arrived at the border.

“You think you can get Torres something to subdue the guard with?” he whispered in Kelly’s ear.

“Like what?”

“A metal rod, perhaps?”

She smiled. “I know exactly where I can get one.”

A few minutes later, they turned off the main highway and started navigating some of the surface streets.

Kelly then doubled over, clutched her stomach and started to wail. “You’ve gotta stop,” she said. “I’m about to explode.”

“We don’t have time,” the guard said tapping his watch.

“I’ll make a scene if you don’t do something about it.”

He didn’t budge, so she then started to scream at the top of her lungs and wave her arms.

The guard put his hand out. “Okay, okay. Just give me a second.”

When the truck stopped at a traffic light, the guard tapped on the cab window and told the driver they need to pull over so Kelly could use the restroom.

The driver argued for a few moments and threw up his hands before relenting. He pulled into a gas station and the guard in the cab got out and followed Kelly. A minute later, she emerged from the bathroom and picked up her pace at the guard’s behest.

The guard helped Kelly back into the truck before returning to the cab. The guard slapped the side of the truck and the vehicle returned to the road.

Cal felt Kelly place a metal object in his hand behind their backs.

“From the toilet?” Cal whispered.

She nodded.

“Good work.”

Discreetly, he handed the rod to Torres and gave him a knowing look.

As the truck started to slow down as it approached a traffic light, Torres dashed toward the guard and maneuvered behind him. He slipped the metal rod around the guard’s neck. In a panic, the guard dropped his gun, which Ortega snatched up.

Prado looked on, mouth agape. Cal never had a chance to apprise him of their plan, but he was confident Prado would figure out what he was supposed to do.

Cal grabbed the guard’s cell phone and returned to his spot.

With their backs up against the cab window, Cal, Kelly and Prado blocked the driver and guard’s view into the back of the truck. The traffic light turned green and the truck began moving forward.

“Do it now!” Cal said.

Torres slammed the guard’s head against the side wall of the truck bed, knocking him out.

“Everybody move,” Cal said.

They all darted out of the truck and raced for cover. Cal heard the truck stop but he didn’t turn back to see what was going on. Eluding captivity was the first thing they needed to do, but they still had to set the rest of their plan in motion.

They all planted their backs against the wall of a building in a tight alleyway. Since he had the gun, Ortega positioned himself closest to the corner.

“See anything?” Cal asked.

“No,” Ortega said. “The truck is parked in the middle of the road and both doors are open, but I don’t see anyone.”

Cal started punching in numbers on the cell phone before he realized he couldn’t get a signal. “Guys, we need to go up top.”

“Good idea,” Ortega said hurriedly. “The other guard just came out of a store and he’s walking right toward us.”

Cal hustled toward the back of the building and found a ladder leading to the roof only three stories above them.

“You gotta move faster than that,” Torres

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