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But Gus came back inside with a serious look on his face.  Four cars, coming
this way, he said.  Looks like la Migra otra vez. Pinche cabrones! Everybody
back to the bedrooms. I handle this. Silencio, todos!
Agent Foster briefed the people in the other cars over the secure frequency as
they drove from Alpine up into the mountains.
 OK, listen up, people. She s in a house behind a dude ranch halfway up a
canyon. The only approach is from the front, so first thing, I want Team A and
Team B to deploy around the back of the house, to keep anyone from getting
away. Check in when you re in position, but I don t want it to take more than
two minutes, got that? Team C, as soon as everyone else is in position, take two
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cars and set up roadblocks above and below the dude ranch. Don t let anyone
through until I give the word. Team D, we ll take the front of the house. I don t
expect any resistance, but keep alert. Get those vests on. One way or the other
we ll get everyone out of the house.
 Now, as to the people. With apologies to Agent Palacio, you know how these
Mexican families are. There ll be the husband and wife, a passel of children, and
maybe aunts, uncles, grandparents, and who knows who else. We ll hold them all
out front until the situation clears. I remind you, the little blonde girl we re look-
ing for may have black hair now, so keep especially alert with respect to any
medium size children. Any questions?
The four cars turned off the highway onto the dude ranch driveway and sped
past the  big house, past the barns and corrals, and swung around to the smaller
house and outbuildings behind. Sixteen doors opened more or less simulta-
neously and then agents began running all over the place, getting into position.
Two of the cars, with two agents in each, backed up and returned to the highway.
After all teams had checked in via his earpiece, Agent Foster judged the
moment was right. In the stillness, he mounted the porch and rapped on the
door.  Federal agents! Open up!
The four agents of Team D, standing in front of the house with weapons
drawn, waited. Nothing happened. Agent Foster knocked again.  Federal Agents!
Open up, or we ll break down the door!
They saw him begin talking, evidently to someone inside the closed door, but
they couldn t hear the words. It didn t take long. After a couple minutes, the
door opened slowly and a paunchy Hispanic man walked out, his hands in the
air. Behind him followed a stout Hispanic woman, and a small crowd of
scared-looking children and young people, the smallest being held protectively
close by an old woman. Agent Hamilton took a look at all of them and shook his
head at Agent Foster, who stepped to the door and shouted commandingly,  We
know you re in there, miss. Come out with your hands up. No one wants to hurt
you.
Nothing happened. Using hand signals, Foster summoned one member of
Teams D, A, and B, and went into the house. The three remaining members of
Team D stood around the shivering family members and waited.
A few minutes of silence were abruptly interrupted by an inhuman,
high-pitched screech followed by a man s bellow of pain. Every member of Team
D jumped and pointed their weapons at the house. Out the door, like a streak,
came a cat, running so fast they could hear its claws scrabbling on the hard dirt in
the driveway. It skidded into a panic turn and disappeared in the undergrowth to
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their left, scattering pebbles behind it. All three took deep breaths and lowered
their weapons.
Foster and the others emerged, one agent pressing a blood-spotted handker-
chief to his hand. They consulted in low voices, and then he sent the three agents
back inside for a more thorough search. He walked to the group out front.
 Do we have any little blondes here? he asked, rhetorically.  Let s take a good
look. One by one, each was examined and eliminated. He had a female agent
look closely at Luisa, Clara, and Maria. The two little ones whimpered piteously.
When he turned to the boy, Foster suddenly stood up straight.  Where s the
grandmother? he asked.  Goddammit, wasn t there an old woman here? Where
the hell is she? Guys?
There was no grandmother. The agents looked at each other and then at
Agent Foster. Finally, Agent Palacio stated the obvious:  She was here, all right. I
swear, we never took our eyes off this bunch, sir. But she s not here now. What
the hell happened to her?
As Matt neared the dude ranch, he came upon a car parked sideways across the
road, with one man standing behind it and another in front. The one in front was
waving at him to stop. He complied and stuck his head out the window.
 What s going on? he shouted.
 This road is closed for about a half hour, sir. You ll have to come back later.
The fellow had sunglasses on, even though the canyon was completely in the
shade of the early evening. He had a black jacket on with the letters  FBI prom-
inently on the left breast.
 Closed? What for? Was there an accident?
 Federal matter, sir. Please turn around and try again later.
 Federal matter? What federal matter? I m a newspaper reporter! That s my
press pass on the mirror. I have the right to be anywhere!
 Not here, you don t, sir. For the last time, please reverse your vehicle and
come back later. That s an order sir. And he pulled back his jacket to rest his
hand on a pistol in a holster.
 Well, crap, said Matt.  Someone will hear about this! He shifted into
reverse, backed around, shifted into drive, and eased back down the highway,
rolling his window up.
Back up to speed, and after rounding several curves, he spoke out loud:  Well,
wasn t I lucky that I was flagged down by a hitchhiker two curves before I got to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]