Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Anderson

Two sudden explosions pierce the sound of the jungle. They came from the north. Tiago and my men draw their arms after the first explosion. The men from the cartel we're doing business with are pointing their weapons at us. I remain unarmed, hands held up staring at Joaquin Amador, their leader. The plan is going accordingly. Only a few more minutes and it should be over. "We didn't fire that. It would be wise if your men lower their weapons before there's a massacre, and only the two of us are left."

A man lunges toward me, raising his gun toward my head. I duck and hear a second gunshot. The man whips both his hands up to his head falling after the impact of a second bullet. Taking cover, I pull my gun and begin targeting the enemy. Amador lays on the ground with two holes in his head, Tiago's specialty. Mission accomplished.

Amador is a former government prosecutor who deserted his life and went to work for the Olmecas, a cartel stationed on the southern Mexican border. The man planted moles along the Mexican army and the agencies killing anyone who would try to obstruct his way. His next plan was to run for governor of Yucatan, a southern state in his country. His death was paid by the government, but taking him down opened the door to bigger fish. The Gulf cartel is looking for a foreign group to join forces with them. With this operation finished, I have won their trust.

"Ten minutes left, gentlemen. I recommend you head to the helicopter," Harrison's voice comes through the transmitter. "The DEA is picking up their own men."

"Sir, we're on our way out," I salute Vincent Gore, pull my gun again and shoot the man he's handcuffing. "No survivors. We agreed."

"We want to bring them home for questioning," he growls.

Tiago shoots two more men. "With all due respect, sir, our agreement stated that you can't bring souvenirs home. One of them learns about you, your guys or us and they will retaliate."

"We would be careful." His smug posture makes me want to shoot him too.

"I don't give a fuck if you endanger yourself or your family," I roar pulling him by his collar. He's about five-eleven, shaved head like Tiago, but too lean to take me down. Staring down at him, I give him an ultimatum. "But I do when your stupidity puts my men in danger. I'll have your job by tomorrow morning."

"You're a nobody. You'll be out of the job before you touch American soil."

I could kill Gore. Many things can happen during a mission, men die. I don't. Knowing he's out of the job will serve him better. "You can have my job, but can you handle it? I advise you run, there's one more detonation coming this way."

We rush through the thick greenery. The third explosion happens when we reach the helicopter.

"The third explosion, we are done with these fuckers," Tiago's voice comes through my headset as we load our equipment aboard the aircraft.

"We have the merchandise, boss," one of my men waiting inside the helicopter confirms. "The Gulf cartel will be waiting with the weapons in Texas."

"Did we send proof?" I question Tiago who oversaw Amador's execution personally.

"Yes." He sighs and shrugs, cussing under his breath, pointing at the fire spreading in horror.

Me: Need you to control the fire.

Bradley: Already have people working on that. What happened to Gore?

Me: He already whined?

Bradley: Just answer.

Me: The fucker was trying to bring some men alive for questioning.

Bradley: I trust you took care of it.

Me : Of course, boss. What are you going to do with him?

Bradley: Don't worry about him.

Me: When do we take the next step?

Bradley: Wings is flying you back home.

Fuck! I cover my face.

Me: How is Mom?

I text. My hands tremble as I wait for an answer.

Bradley: Your girlfriend called on Sunday. Your mom isn't doing well. Take all the time you need, just stay within range. The Gulf cartel will be contacting you. I'll redirect their calls to your phone.

Me: Thank you, Bradley.

Everyone has good days and bad days, good thoughts and agonizing thoughts about their future. Here I am driving through the highway toward my mother. Dragging every mile, I pushed closer to her. I'm regretting my absence. The time I was away took from our last days together. Did I waste the opportunity to be with her? Then I go back to the days I spent away from her. The time I spent hunting men who are no longer able to kidnap women and sell them to prostitution rings. They're the same people who won't sell any more weapons to the terrorists. Mom doesn't understand how it works without working for the government, but thinks that my job matters if at the end of the day I save lives.

Once I reach Aspen's house, I prepare myself for what I might encounter. When I left Mom, she looked frail, working hard to keep her weight up as the doctor recommended. Her dark hair is thin, gray, and brittle. I remember when she was diagnosed. Full of hope, she swore to fight until her last breath, and if cancer won, she'd have gone a fighter. Once her body stopped responding to the treatment, she continued fighting. Not for her life, but for her happiness. Cancer wouldn't take away the joy she experiences every day; the smell of the roses, the feel of the sunshine on her skin, and her friends or the love of her sons.

My therapist told me that in the battle between cancer and the patient, it's the loved ones who lose the most. They can't only watch from the sidelines, cheering and waiting for the outcome with hopes that it's a happy one. Mom's isn't a happy ending. Now we wait for it to unravel. My mind is ready. My heart is not.

Mom sits on the porch, on the brown wicker couch. On her lap is a purple blanket. Her head's covered with a pink beanie and she wears an ivory colored poncho. Hugo lays on the floor next to the couch. Aspen and Brynn sit on the other chairs both holding mugs and laughing.

Maybe something is in the air, but Mom looks radiant and full of energy. She's thinner than the last time I saw her. The dark circle under her eyes are darker, but her smile brightens my afternoon. We made it to today. Neither one of us had any guarantees of seeing each other again. And yet, here we are.

"How's the most beautiful mother in the world?" I lean in to kiss her.

"Flattery won't help you, Anderson." She caresses my bruised jaw and kisses my stitched eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Will it make you feel better if I tell you the other guy looks worse?" He's burnt beyond recognition. I laugh when she shakes her head. "How are you feeling?"

"Too tired." Mom tilts her chin to the left. "I've been waiting for you."

The pang inside my chest constricts my breathing. Those words sound final. "Well, I'm back and ready to spend all my time with you."

"Would you mind taking me back to bed?"

In seconds, two sets of arms are taking the blanket away her while the other moves Hugo away from the couch. For a moment, I had forgotten about Aspen and Brynn.

"Victoria, can you please help us?" Aspen calls through a headset she carries. "We're taking Sophia back into her room."

Victoria and another nurse I haven't seen before come out to meet us.

"Finally, it's time for the two of you to take a break," Victoria says eyeing Aspen and Brynn who ignore her.

The other nurse takes the IV cart next to the couch and roll it slightly before turning to look at me. "Ready whenever you are, sir."

"She's still in the downstairs room." Aspen opens the screen and then the main door. She holds an iPad, a mug and the blanket. "Victoria will follow. Brynn will get some chicken noodle soup for her while I get some fresh, warm blankets."

"Victoria, can you massage her legs, please?" Brynn adds, making her way into the house holding the rest of the stuff they had with them.

I take Mom into my arms, she's lighter than a feather. There's not much left of Mom inside this fragile body. "Are you eating well?"

"You know why I don't weigh much?" Mom smiles as if she has a big secret and will share it with me because I'm her favorite. Her hand trembles as it reaches out, touching my cheek, wiping away the tears escaping from my eyes. When did I start crying? "It's because the only part left of me is my soul. It's light, but able to carry all the love I have accumulated throughout the years. That's all I'm taking when I leave."

"Mom." I press her closer to me, trying to keep her alive.

"I met him," Mom speaks.

Aspen shrugs, shaking her head.

"He's beautiful," Mom continues. "Stop searching for what you have in front of you, Anderson. Have faith, open your heart and learn to live."

Her eyes close as I put her on top of the bed. "Hugo, where is he? I like when he's by my side."

Victoria helps me with the sheets and starts massaging Mom. The other nurse adjusts the IV, leaving without a word.

"How was your mission?"

I disclose what I can. It's not much, but she hangs onto every word I say until she falls asleep and Victoria leaves too. The silence in the room kills me. It feels like hours before Aspen enters with some blankets and I notice her changing Mom's socks.

"Damn," Aspen draws small circles on her forehead with her index finger. "She hasn't eaten today."

"She ate some of your M I don't want to be alone."

Call it instinct, the foul smell of death, or coincidence but around one in the morning as Aspen is about to add another dose of morphine Mom's eyes flutter open.

"I love you, sweet boy." Her voice is barely a breath. "It's time to let me go."

"No." Tears well in my eyes, my insides scream don't go . The ache in my chest becomes unbearable. It's those loving eyes and pleading words that give me the strength to say it. "I love you too. Thank you for being my mother, and for staying as long as you could."

She moves slightly finding Aspen, smiling at her. Her eyes close and she sighs one last time before leaving me. My girl draws circles on my back as I hold Mom for one last time and cry. Because even though I know she's no longer suffering, the pain is unbearable.