As he heard Gloria speak, Santos jumped to his feet and raced toward the action. The federales quickly gained control over the chaos a few moments later, the ACES team wading into the craziness with them. The officers forced everyone to the ground, and the gunfire dwindled into silence. Cries of innocence took its place, a pall of smoke from the explosion mixing with the sharp smell cordite. Rose barely registered the smells or the shouts. Trying to stay her panic, she swung her gaze around until she spied Jessie. “Call for an ambulance,” Rose yelled at the redhead. “She needs help. Right now.”
“The EMT guys are already here,” Jessie called out. “The federales brought them. Hang on, I’ll go grab them.” She ran off, firing off a rapid string of Spanish to men around her. They began to run, too.
Rose turned back to her mother. “Lie still,” she ordered. Whipping off her jacket, she pressed the fabric at the red streak across her mother’s hair line. “I need to stop the bleeding.”
Her mother’s fingers tightened on Rose’s arm. “I didn’t want you here. You weren’t supposed to—”
“Shhh, Mother. You shouldn’t be talking.”
To Rose’s amazement, her mother laughed weakly. “I haven’t seen you in years, and you don’t want me to say anything?”
Rose couldn’t stop the tears that filled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant. But we have to talk, Rose. I have to tell you about Santos—”
“He doesn’t matter. Not right now. All that matters is getting you some help.” Rose turned her head. “And I hear the medics coming.”
She was pushed aside as the emergency techs dropped to their knees in the dirt, their hands a blur as they checked out her mother’s wounds. A moment later, they lifted her in one fluid motion to the gurney they’d brought. As they started to push her away, Rose jogged to keep up, her hand finding her mother’s, their fingers linking.
Just as her mother said, they’d been apart for years, and now that she’d found her again, Rose couldn’t bear to let her go. But she had to when they reached the ambulance and began to load her mother into the back. The EMTs protested as Rose jumped in beside her mother. She ignored their objections. Wrapping her arms gently around her, Rose whispered, “I’ll come to the hospital as quickly as I can, and we’ll talk when I get there. I love you, Mom. I—”
“Go do your job,” her mother interrupted. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She took a ragged breath but she still managed to return Rose’s hug. She began to cry again as her mother’s reassuring hands patted her on the back. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll wait for you,” she promised. ”I’m not going anywhere.”
…
Santos and the team searched the villa from top to bottom. Inside the sprawling compound, they found everything from gold-plated guns to an elaborate movie theater with fur-clad recliners. There were bedrooms lined in silk, a paneled library full of books, and a marble-clad dining room, including a table and chairs, also carved of marble, that would serve dozens. The table was laid out as if ready for a banquet with silver platters and crystal wine glasses. But paper towels served as napkins, and metal tray tables sat beside the fur recliners. The complex represented a bizarre combination of wealth and poverty.
Everything imaginable was there…except Ortega.
Striding out the nearest door and into the courtyard with the rest of the ACES team, Santos shook his head at the captain of the Mexican officers who was overseeing the loading of all the men he’d rounded up. They exchanged a chagrined look before Santos turned to Rose. Her stance was stiff and unforgiving, her eyes cold, her lips narrowed. Before the wailing ambulance had carried Gloria away, Santos had cuffed her to the gurney after Rose relinquished her place by mother’s side.
She glared at him now with anger…and disappointment, lifting her gaze as he neared. “No sign of Ortega?”
He wiped his brow on the sleeve of his shirt, dust from the search still clinging to his hair and face. The storm had broken and fled, leaving the quadrangle sweltering. It could have been hell. For Santos it was. “We looked top to bottom. No sign of him.”