The Fallen (Angelic Redemption) Read Online Free Page A

studied the eight newcomers - well dressed
Mexicans carrying a lot of firepower – as they exited their cars and spread out
around the motel. Joaquin wasn’t really interested why the cartel was chasing
this woman or how she had managed to bring such trouble down on herself.
    His mind was on God.
    “Is this my sign?” he asked, eyeing the ceiling.
    Uncertainty clouded his mind even as he heard the
armed men making the rounds of the motel, banging on doors and kicking them
open when the guests chose not to answer. The men would come to his room soon,
but Joaquin could not fathom if this was the Lord’s answer.
    When a woman screamed, Joaquin thought the
American might have been discovered. Gazing outside, he found the dumpster
untouched. Yet it was only a matter of time before one of the motel patrons
snitched. Moving away from the window, Joaquin considered his options and
realized he had none.
    When a man thumped on the door, Joaquin answered
and stared at him.
    “Do you want something?” Joaquin asked.
    “We’re looking for an American woman. Is she in
your room?”
    Joaquin did not respond immediately, instead gazing
grimly at the man.
    “There is no one in my room but me.”
    “Can I look?”
    Joaquin again hesitated, forcing the man to stew.
He finally nodded his approval.
    “What did this woman do?” Joaquin asked as the man
rushed around the room, barely looking before hurrying back to the door.
    “I don’t know,” he said, avoiding Joaquin’s gaze.
    Nearby another woman screamed and a gun fired.
Joaquin studied the noises then returned his gaze to the anxious killer before
him.
    “All this for one woman?” Joaquin asked with a
slight grin.
    The man shrugged, finding no humor in the comment
or situation.
    “I do what I’m told,” he muttered.
    Glancing upward, Joaquin nodded. “I know the feeling.”
    Joaquin’s right hand retrieved the gun from his
waistband and fired before the man finished his breath.
    For just a moment, nothing seemed to stir outside
the room, even as Joaquin was on the move inside. As his muscular frame glided
from the motel room door, Joaquin fired upon two approaching men.
    Striding towards the front of the motel where
other men waited, Joaquin took this opportunity to glance at the dumpster. At
that moment, the woman appeared and took off running into the harsh landscape.
He cocked an eyebrow at this development, but never paused.
    Two men began firing before Joaquin finished
turning the corner, but the bullets only chipped away at the decaying motel
walls. He found himself lingering as they fired, pausing to see if he might
finally feel the searing pain of a bullet ripping through his flesh. The wait
might have been eternal, but his patience wore out. Joaquin fired in quick
succession, each shot hitting its target.
    On the move again, Joaquin retrieved a second gun
from a holster inside his shirt and fired in two directions. He hit one man
fleeing, the other blazing a weapon. Both men collapsed, but this only brought
the total to seven.
    The panicked cries in Spanish increased as he
turned the last corner and peered into the front office. The young woman
cradled what was left of her lover. Noticing Joaquin approaching, her cries
stuttered as she processed his identity. He paid her little attention for one
target remained and this one knew he was coming.
    The man’s first shot missed badly, but the second
one should have killed Joaquin. Firing once into the now fleeing killer,
Joaquin noticed the man’s weapon and phone sail across the floor. The second
object worried him.
    More men were coming, likely a number much higher
than eight. If this was any other job, Joaquin wouldn’t waste time fleeing. He
would arm up and slay all takers, but his task today wasn’t about killing. It
was about the woman, still running, now just a speck in the horizon.
    Joaquin retrieved his belongings from the motel
room then hurried to his car. In the distance, puffs of dirt spewed into