Whitewater (Rachel Hatch #6)(40)

"Seemed like you had things well in hand. Ernesto and I just sped it along. I'm just glad it didn't end in a shootout. I think even those men we hit with the frying pan would agree with that one."

"Not when the cartel learns of their failure. All we really did was prolong the inevitable. I'm just holding out hope that we can put a little bit of time between us and whoever else they send."

Her last statement ended their conversation as both occupants of the little yellow Nissan hummed along the darkened roadway.

"You know, you never really answered my question back there." Hatch broke the silence with a change in topic.

"Which one?"

"At your cafe, when I asked you why you did this, why you help people and put yourself out there with so much at risk."

"I did answer you."

"You told me that wonderful story your father told you about the seed and the boulder. That's true. But you never really answered."

"This is true. Let me see if I can remedy that for you as best I can. Maybe you could rephrase your question?"

"What specific moment in your life put you on the path you're on now, one where you're willing to risk everything, including your life, to save people you don't know?"

He smiled broadly before answering. "You say I don't know these people, but I do. Just as you do. As my father said, at our most basic essence, we are all human. We are all the same. And therefore, I feel a sense of connection with everyone. I may not always understand the reasons for why they do what they do, but I have to believe, at the very core of human nature is goodness. With that said, when people ignore the goodness in their heart and do harm to other people, I agree there needs to be people like you in the world too. Your purpose comes from a place few can understand. But I'd try, if you're willing to tell me."

Hatch thought about the defining moments in her life that had led her here. And the point and purpose it had given her life. In a lifetime of defining moments, one stood out above the rest, one responsible for permanently redirecting the trajectory of her life. The devestating nature of her father's death at the young age of twelve had forever changed the course. All things led back to that morning in the mountains when the gunshot stole her father from a young Hatch.

"My father was shot and killed." Hatch left out the details because those details got people killed. It was the reason she left Hawk's Landing. And indirectly why she was here, with the pan-wielding-peacock man.

Hatch refused to burden Ayala, or in any way connect him to her past. The results could be life altering. Hatch was still looking over her shoulder for the people who might never come or might already be on their way. It was a torturous way to live. But she had no choice in the matter, and much like Munoz had resigned himself to his fate, Hatch had done similar with hers.

"That must have been terrible. And that's what drove you to, as you say, 'help good people and punish those who do them harm.’"

Hatch nodded. "So now you know my story. What about yours?" Ayala adjusted himself in his seat and looked at the speedometer as if doing a time distance equation to gauge if he had enough time to tell the story. He cleared his throat and began. "Five years ago, I was embedded doing a journalistic piece on a Mexican special forces unit like your Navy SEALS. Unlike your military, who only operates abroad, ours takes direct action within our country. And with the cartels running amuck, our military are fighting a daily battle waged on the city streets and country hillsides of my beautiful Mexico. I followed them on raids and was writing a piece documenting all the efforts on the war being waged against the cartels."

"I accompanied them on one raid on a particular morning. They said it shouldn't be too dangerous, and that I could come along if I wanted an opportunity to be with the team when they entered. In the back of the group, of course. Not that I'd want to be anywhere else, even if they offered. The back was plenty fine for me.

“Getting a firsthand account of how they operate was a rare and unique opportunity. And I seized it, if not a bit reluctantly. The target of the investigation was a low-level drug dealer in the Fuentes cartel's distribution chain, just above your common street pusher. He had no record of violence, which for a drug dealer in Mexico wasn't common, which is the main reason I was authorized to attend the raid. He was deemed a minimal risk operation. The unit commander was interested in getting the story of his specialized unit told. He felt it would assist his psychological campaign, helping him strike fear into the enemy. The commander was an enthusiastic man and one whose passion and pride for his unit was unequaled. It became a perfect storm of sorts. And though I didn't know it at the time, I was in the eye of a hurricane. And one I fear still has me spinning.

“I was partnered with a strong young operator by the name of Arturo Sanchez. They assigned him to be my shadow to protect me throughout the execution of the raid. He was not very happy with his assignment, to say the least.

“Sanchez was one of their top men. But the unit commander wanted their best with me to ensure my safety."

"Makes sense."

"Sanchez and I were in the back of an eleven-man line of heavily armed men. They used flash bangs and other devices to break into the house and surprise its occupants. Arturo Sanchez and I were the last to enter.

“Upon completion of the initial sweep of the house, they had located and detained the wife of the drug dealer along with her young daughter, who was roughly the age you were when you experienced your traumatic event. The little girl was sobbing uncontrollably.