Mark Gimenez - The Governor's wife

"Probably won't get a second glance in Nuevo Laredo."

The doctor held the gun as if it were a contagious disease.

"And do you know how to use these weapons, Governor?"

"I do."

The doctor stared at the pistol in his hands. "I have treated many gunshot victims, but I have never before shot a gun."

"Well, Doc, you're fixin' to make some victims tonight."

They sat quietly for a moment. Bode knew that his forty-seven-year career called life had come down to this one big play: saving his wife.

"Harvard Med School did not prepare me for this," the doctor said.

"Nothing prepares a man to die."

They stood and climbed the embankment, fighting their way through thick juniper and brush. They broke through to a four-lane east-west roadway, then quickly ducked back into the brush as cars sped past.

" Bulevar Luis Donaldo Colosio," the doctor said. "It leads directly to El Diablo's compound."

"Let's go."

"No. There is too much traffic on this road. Federales and cartel patrols. We must take the side streets."

He looked both ways.

"Now!"

Governor Bode Bonner and Dr. Jesse Rincon jumped from the brush and ran across the four lanes and into Ciudad de Nuevo Laredo, determined to save the woman they both loved. Or to die trying.

And one of them would.

" Calle Nicolas Bravo," the doctor said. "This street runs parallel to the boulevard. It will take us to El Diablo's compound. Maybe, a dozen blocks west of where we stand. And the traffic is one-way toward us, so we will see cars approaching. But we must be careful. When it is dark, Nuevo Laredo is a very dangerous place. Here, you are either predator or prey."

"I'm armed and dangerous, Doc."

" Mi amigo, this is Nuevo Laredo."

They walked down the cramped street past ramshackle residences so close to the street you could spit through the windows. Corrugated tin sheets and wood pallets fashioned fences that corralled chickens and goats. Old American cars were parked halfway onto the narrow sidewalk.

"I always wondered what happened to all the Oldsmobiles," Bode said.

"Governor, what if she is not in the compound? What if we cannot find her?"

"She'll be there. He wants me to find her."

Bode stopped and retrieved the handheld GPS unit from his coat pocket.

"And I can track her on this."

Bode activated the GPS and got a signal. Good girl.

"How?"

"Her cell phone. I can track it."

"But he would have taken her phone."

"She hid it where he wouldn't find it."

"Where?"

"You're a doctor, figure it out."

"Oh. How do you know she would do that?"

"Because I've been married to her for twenty-two years. She's smart, and she's tough."

He turned the GPS off and put it back in his pocket.

"Let's go get her, Doc."

They continued west on Calle Nicolas Bravo and crossed 20 Noviembre San Antonio. Bode glanced down the side street and saw several groups of tough-looking men gathered outside cheap cantinas.

"Do not look at them," the doctor said.

They walked fast down the south side of the street and crossed another intersection. Bode looked up at the road sign: Jose de Escandon. When he looked back down, a man jumped from the shadows and tackled the doctor like a linebacker flattening a quarterback. He apparently hadn't seen Bode behind the doctor. Bode pulled his six-shooter and put the big barrel in the man's face. His eyes were suddenly wide. Bode spoke through clenched teeth.

"Get off my friend!"

He got off.

"Now git!"

He got.

The doctor stood and said, "So I am your friend?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"If we get her out alive."

They hurried on. The streets were lit with neon signs for Corona and Tecate and Pesos-Dolares and all-night Farmacias. Late-night partiers stumbled down the sidewalks until they fell over or were beaten and robbed. Hookers plied their trade for a few pesos. Austin's Sixth Street could be a bit wild at times, but the biggest danger was getting puked on.

Nuevo Laredo was the goddamn Wild West.

Headlights appeared in front of them, and the doctor abruptly grabbed Bode's coat and yanked him off the sidewalk.

"Governor, this way!" he said in a hushed voice.

He pulled Bode down behind a small adobe wall with a sign for Mision Pentecostal. They remained hidden until a military-style truck with armed soldiers in the back drove past.

" Federales," the doctor said.

They stood and headed west again, faster now. They crossed Pedro J. Mendez and Santos Degollado streets. Each intersection seemed busier than the previous one.

"We are getting closer to the city center," the doctor said.

The structures were low, and the tall white compound loomed over the buildings like a castle on a hilltop, so they had no trouble maintaining their bearing. They went through the Jesus Carranza and Leandro Valle intersections and past small auto repair shops with cars jacked up on blocks in the side yards and more cantinas and more… headlights coming toward them. They ducked behind a small Tacos y Taquitos stand and waited for the vehicle to pass. It was another truck with armed men in the back.

" Federales? " Bode asked.

"Cartel soldados," the doctor said. "Looking for a fight with the federales."

The Wild West.

They jogged down the street. They had entered a bar district: El Paso del Norte, La Cascada, Aguilar Ladies Bar, and other such establishments lined both sides of the street.

"We are close now," the doctor said.

They came to the intersection at Avenida Melchor Ocampo.

"We go north here. The next intersection is Vincente Guerrero, a very busy street. This street is not so busy."

They hurried up the west sidewalk, which was shielded by cars parked along the street and shade trees. They were in a better part of town. Bode felt a sense of relief come over him-until he was slammed up against a building and a knife was jammed against his throat. A large Mexican man with whiskey breath put his weight into Bode.

"?Tu dinero o tu vida! "

"Our money or our lives," the doctor said.

"I'm the governor. I don't carry cash."

The doctor dug in his pocket and produced a handful of coins. The man took the money then threw the coins on the sidewalk.

"?Mas dinero! "

The doctor shook his head.

" No mas dinero. "

The man pulled the knife back as if to stab Bode, but his body suddenly clenched and his eyes bulged and he groaned. A hand-a white hand-emerged from the darkness behind the man and clamped over his mouth. The man dropped his knife and slowly crumpled to the ground. A shaggy figure leaned over the man a moment then stood and faced Bode.

"What the hell are you doing here, Governor?"

" Eddie? "

He stared at Eddie Jones' face in disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Saving your life."

"Thanks, but why are you in Nuevo Laredo?"

"'Cause you're paying me a million bucks to kill El Diablo."

"I am?"

"Jim Bob is. Campaign expense."

"Can you do it? Kill him?"

"Yeah, I can kill him. That's not the problem. Getting back across the river alive, that's the problem. So, Governor, what brings you to Nuevo Laredo?"

"He took my wife."

"From the colonia," the doctor said. "This morning."

Eddie nodded. "Using her as bait. It's working. So what, you and the doc here figure on walking into that compound, killing the baddest drug lord in all of Mexico, rescuing the little lady, and then hightailing it back across the river before daybreak?"

Bode shrugged. "As a matter of fact, that is the plan."

"Well, Governor, as plans go, it sucks." He glanced around. "Come on, let's find a place to make a new plan."