Chapter One

Hot, tired and pissed didn’t even come close to covering it. He really didn’t give a shit what Ortiz was saying. He got it. The man had just been hired, and then he’d fired half of the department because of corruption. That was his problem. As a member of the US Army Military Police, David’s problem was to make sure his two men didn’t end up spending the rest of their lives in a Las Flores prison.

Wait a minute.

“Can you repeat that?” David asked the Las Flores Chief of Police.

“In my opinion, your men were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I have one of my questionable officers saying they assaulted him. I’m not buying it. I can’t figure out why he’d accuse them, but he does have a broken jaw.”

“Fuck. Why isn’t that statement in the e-mail my commander sent me?”

“Because I didn’t want it in the official report yet. Like I said, I don’t trust the little shit. Before a member of the Las Flores Police Department decides to make a report against members of the United States Army, I wanted to make sure I knew everything.”

David pulled out his smartphone. “Okay, I only see your write-up of general facts and Rigg’s statement. Where is Harrison’s statement?” David asked, referring to the other American NCO.

“Harrison isn’t talking. We’re just getting name, rank, and serial number. This is a…what I think you call…a clusterfuck,” Ortiz said the last word in English. “Did I use that word correctly?”

“Yep, you used it correctly,” David continued in Spanish. He took another long sip of his coffee so he could take the time to consider all that Ortiz had told him.

“Can I read over your officer’s statement? The one that you haven’t put into the report.”

Ortiz fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocked his desk drawer, pulled out a file, and slid it across the desk toward David.

“I’ve also included private notes. They outline what I think really happened. I knew you would be here asking questions, and I wanted you up to speed.”

Picking up the file, David leaned back to read it.

“Take your time. I know my handwriting isn’t the best.”

“Isn’t he expecting a copy to sign?”

“He’s still in the hospital flying high on pain medication. I figure I have another day to stall. I’m hoping you can get Harrison to speak up by then.”

David nodded and went back to reading. He went over the information four times since it was in Spanish and he didn’t want to miss any nuance, as Spanish wasn’t his native language.

“There are enough holes to drive a truck through,” he said throwing the report onto the desk.

“That was my take, that’s why I included my supposition,” Ortiz said.

“You mean to tell me everybody in the bar stood by while two foreigners decided to beat a cop with no provocation? Then there’s the part where Harrison picked up the pool cue. I’m sorry, but I’ve seen the military files of both men. Harrison is bigger than I am. He wouldn’t need a weapon to break anyone’s jaw.”

“The doctors say my man’s injury was done by a fist. They are quite adamant in their assessment. So I know he is lying.”

“And you’re thinking–”

What?

A jerky tremor knocked David off his chair.

Was it a bomb?

The floor shoved him up and vibrated, shaking him. The trembling sensation increased. Increased. Increased.

Earthquake!

He needed protection. His chair!

Pulling the tipped over leather chair on top of him, just before the ceiling crashed on top of him, David struggled to stay under the scant protection.

Fuck!

Ow! Goddamit, that hurt.

Plaster and dust swirled in the dim light. When would the earth stop heaving? He heard the annoying sound of faint car alarms ringing.

Who was shrieking? That wasn’t him groaning, was it?

“Carmen!” Ortiz shouted hoarsely to the screaming secretary.

The earth wouldn’t stop heaving until finally it abruptly stopped.

Pieces of the ceiling continued to thud around him.

He tried to move the chair, but it was stuck.

“Fuck!”

Moving his leg was a bad idea, it hurt like a son of a bitch.

“Sloane?”

“Ortiz? Are you okay?”

“No.” Pushing with his shoulder the chair moved a little bit. “I’m bleeding. The window,” the man gasped.

The woman’s shrieks had gotten softer. David needed to concentrate on Ortiz first. He tried moving his leg again. It hurt, but it wasn’t broken. He pushed harder, and the chair finally moved.

Sitting up in the darkness, David felt around and realized that a wooden beam from the ceiling had fallen on his leg. He could move his foot. It hadn’t hit his knee, just the upper thigh.

Okay, you can probably walk, so suck it up. Taking a deep breath, he hefted the beam and pulled his leg out from underneath it.

“Damn.” He sighed in relief. The leg still hurt, but God, not nearly like it had. David felt around in the dark and realized there were some portions of the debris that was stable enough to stand on. He pushed himself up. Pain zinged, and held him in its grips for long moments. Breathe. One. Two. Three. One foot in front of the other.

“Ortiz, I’m coming for you.”

Damn, a flashlight would be welcome. It had been cloudy outside, so only weak light was shining into the room through the broken windows. He stepped carefully around the desk.

“Ortiz?” Please let the man be okay.

He wasn’t. He was dead. A large shard of glass had pierced his chest.

David crouched down as best he could, and gently closed the man’s eyes so that he was no longer staring at nothing.

“Be well. You were a good man,” David whispered. He didn’t even know if the man had a family.

David walked to the window and looked out onto the main street.

Jesus. At least half of the buildings were caved in. He thought about the rural areas he had seen when the plane had flown him from Panama. What kind of devastation would they have been through?

He turned from the window toward Carmen’s weak cries.

Ortiz had been right; this was a clusterfuck.

* * *

“Carmen said you have to take a break.” David looked at the child who was quivering in front of him.

“What?” he wiped the constant stream of sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his undershirt.

“Here.” The kid thrust out a hot can of orange soda. Even though it was liquid, he still gagged as he popped the top and the pungent scent of carbonated orange chemicals assaulted his nostrils. The kid’s eyes were avid.

“Do you want some?”

“Carmen said it’s for you. She said you should go to the hotel and sleep. I’m supposed to make you.” It was clear the thought of him telling the large man to do anything was preposterous.

David thrust the open can at the kid.

“Really, mister?”

“Really. Help yourself.” The kid sucked down half the can in one long gulp. When he tried to hand it back, David waved his hand. “Finish it. I like grape soda.” The kid nodded and grinned. When he was done, he fished around in the same brown bag that had housed the soda. He pulled out one half eaten candy bar and two unopened nutrition bars.

“Here.”

“Thanks, kid.” David took the wadded up treats and put them in his pocket. “How is Carmen?”

“Grandma Carmen told us how you saved her. She’s supposed to be resting at Mama’s house, but she went to work instead.”

“Where?” Hell, the police station was in shambles. Where could the old lady be working?

“City Hall.” Suddenly David heard a man swear behind him. Turning, he saw three men grabbing a pillar that was too heavy for them.

“Gotta go, kid.” He ran towards the men.