Free Suicide Mission by William W. Johnstone Page B

some of the cops might be in the cartel’s pocket.
    They found themselves on a county road outside of town that ran between seemingly endless cultivated fields. Unless somebody who worked for the cartel had the ability to hack into the feeds from Defense Department surveillance satellites or Border Patrol drones, they were fairly safe from detection out here, Bill thought. Of course, he couldn’t rule out that possibility. Still, there were only so many things a man could worry about.
    â€œKeep going east,” he told Catalina. “After a few more miles, we ought to run across a road that goes back to the highway. We’ll take it.”
    â€œWe might be able to take back roads all the way to San Antonio,” she suggested. “You can call up the maps on your phone so we won’t get lost.”
    Bill shook his head. “My phone won’t do that. All I have is a cheap burner that can’t be traced easily.”
    She gestured toward her purse that was lying on the seat beside them and said, “You can use mine.”
    â€œSon of a—” Bill grabbed the purse and dug out the phone. “These have GPS chips in ’em so they can be tracked.”
    A farm truck loaded with produce was coming toward them on the two-lane blacktop. Bill opened the sunroof again.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Catalina asked. As he stood up and stuck his head and shoulders through the opening, she exclaimed, “Hey, that’s my phone!”
    He threw the phone into the load of grapefruit that filled the back of the farm truck as the two vehicles met and passed each other.
    Catalina glared at him furiously as he lowered himself onto the seat again.
    â€œThat was my phone!” she said again. “It had all my numbers in it!”
    â€œNumbers of people you’ll probably never be able to see again,” Bill told her bluntly. “Chances are they weren’t using it to track us, but if they are, they’ll think we’ve doubled back.”
    â€œOh.” Catalina still didn’t look happy about what he’d done, but evidently she understood the need for it. “I did that earlier today. Doubled back, I mean. I tried not to leave much of a trail, though.”
    â€œIt’s hard not to leave some sort of trail if somebody’s determined enough to find you. Best we can hope for is to slow them down enough for us to make it somewhere safe.”
    Catalina sighed and said, “I’m not sure anywhere in the world is safe.”
    â€œWell, we’ll do the best we can.” Bill held out his hand. “You want to give me that flash drive?”
    Catalina didn’t reach for her pocket.
    â€œThat drive is my only bargaining chip,” she said with a stubborn look on her face. “If I turn it over to you, you won’t have any reason to keep me alive.”
    â€œOther than the fact that I’m not in the habit of lettin’ no-good scum like the cartel murder innocent women.”
    â€œYou should have figured out by now, Bill, that I’m not exactly what anybody would call innocent.”
    â€œWell . . . relatively speakin’,” Bill said. “And I give you my word, I won’t let anything happen to you if I can prevent it.”
    She thought it over and finally nodded.
    â€œI guess you’ve already proved that I can trust you.” She glanced over at him as she drove. “I’m sorry about trying to, you know, run out on you back there at the church. I guess I just lost my head.”
    â€œYou’ve been through a lot,” Bill told her. “It’s understandable. When’s the last time you slept?”
    â€œI don’t know . . . Yesterday sometime, I guess.”
    â€œIt’ll take us at least a couple of hours to get to San Antonio,” he said. “Let me drive, and you can get some sleep.”
    She didn’t have to think about that offer for very long before accepting it. As