by Desiree Holt
“Okay,” Si broke in. “I think we’re all in agreement here. What we need to do now, Max, is share with you all the information Regan discovered plus everything we’ve learned. It won’t make you happy, especially this latest bit.”
Max leaned forward. “Then we’d better get started.”
While George Lorenzan busied himself setting up electronic equipment, Regan looked around at everyone.
“Last night I plucked some additional bits of conversation out of the stratosphere that frightened even me. We can definitely confirm that it’s going to happen on July 4th.”
Kevin whistled. “Holy shit! This country will be filled with targets of hundreds of thousands of people celebrating the holiday. I hate to even think of what can happen.”
Si nodded. “That means our married couple here has to be thoroughly drilled so they can pass muster, get into the three-day meeting, find out what’s going on, and make sure we know about it ASAP.” He nodded at Kevin who plucked sheets of paper from a folder and handed them around. “These are the people involved. They have the money to finance this without any outside help. That’s one of the reasons this is so easy for them. However, as an added benefit, the Alvaros also are connected to one of the largest drug cartels. There’s probably an unlimited supply of funds available from that source.”
“Will they be at this little get-together?” Max asked.
Si shook his head. “Luis Rojas isn’t part of the core group. He is keeping a low profile, at least for now. But be aware he could insert himself more visibly at any time. Your job, and Regan’s, is to get to this meeting, get pictures of everyone there so we have proof of their participation, record what you can so we have the evidence we need, the location of whatever they have planned, and get the fuck out of there. Once we have that info, we can proceed to set up protection for the target sites although we really need to stop this before it gets any further. The protection is in case something falls through the cracks. Once we have the information, however, we can move forward to arrest this unholy group.”
“You’ll need a shitload of proof if they’re as wealthy and connected as you tell me,” Max pointed out. “They’ll have the best attorneys putting up roadblocks.”
Si nodded. “Exactly. Okay, Regan, the floor is yours.”
Regan Shaw moved to the head of the table, opened a slim laptop, and searched until she found the file she wanted then clicked to open it. A photo popped up on the screen.
“Jed Whitlow, the nominal leader of the group, and his wife Anna.”
She took them through each of the people who made up the cabal, explaining who each of them were.
“Being rich isn’t enough for them?” Kevin asked, his tone edged with sarcasm.
“It isn’t the money,” Regan told him. “It’s about the power. That’s what drives them and what made them bond together.”
She clicked again, and a timeline filled the screen that had been set up.
“Si, you already know all of this.” She looked at the other two men. “George and Kevin, you know most of this, also. But since you gentlemen are to be the lead in our backup, Si and I agreed you can’t hear it too often.”
The tall blond who had been introduced as Kevin nodded his head. “We want everything you’ve got to help you take down these fuckers. I can’t wait to get my hands on the traitor who thinks he’d be stepping in to head all this up.”
Regan nodded. “I know just how you feel. Si, I think you should go first, laying down the background on this and letting us know what caused us to dig deeper. I’ll get the rest of this ready.”
Si nodded, took a swallow of coffee and set his cup down.
“It all started when the DEA got a tip from one of its informants about unusual activity around some of the largest ranches in Texas, Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona.”
“What kind of activity?” Max wanted to know.
“The owners were getting more unusual visits from the high-level drug dealers from Mexico. In particular, one dealer, Luis Rojas, the leader of the second-largest cartel. Their interest grew when he began visiting the ranch of Lorena and Elias Alvaro on a regular basis, often bringing his usual group of thugs. What, they wondered, did so-called respectable ranchers want with scum like that? And where did the little group go while he visited with his hosts? And then we learned there was similar activity on huge ranches in nearby states.”
Si leaned forward. “We were able to get a couple of men in place as hands on two of the ranches. It took a few months for them to sufficiently snoop around but eventually they managed to find out that their bosses were providing delivery paths for drugs and getting a fat cut for their troubles. But that was the least of it. It also came to our attention that the owners of all these ranches were meeting on a regular basis. Social? Maybe, but it felt like something else, especially, with the cartel involved.”
“Our question,” Steve injected, “was what the hell were they discussing? More drugs? Sex trafficking? I mean, shit! These were uber wealthy ranchers who hobnobbed with the cream of society. Their ranches and mineral rights were making them more money than they could spend. What the hell was going on?”
“That’s where Regan came in,” Si said. “When she picked up on this and the information was passed along to my boss and then to me, I knew she’d be a critical part of our crew. Someone who could pick up chatter and make sense of it. DHS called Norfolk to see if we could borrow her.” He grinned. “They don’t know we’re never giving her back. Okay, Regan, it’s yours again.”
Flipping through screen after screen, she showed how she’d gathered the bits and pieces and put them together into a whole document. And that, as Si pointed out, scared the crap out of them.
Regan took up the explanation. ”I began by analyzing the snippets of chatter coming in about Rojas and about something besides drugs. Then we picked up pieces of conversations coming from overseas that mentioned not only Rojas but also these others. That was just too weird. I analyze words and phrase patterns, and there seemed to be conversations not related to drugs or any other of the usual kinds of traffic. Like this.”
She clicked a tiny remote, and phrases appeared on the screen, their meaning chilling Max to the bone.
“I was picking up a tiny smattering here and there that made my skin prickle,” she continued. “Pieces about high-value terrorists and how the Rojas cartel was helping to smuggle them. Certain phrases. Words I knew they used as codes. The ranches involved were being used as way stations for these terrorists. Rojas would deliver them to one of the ranches, and they’d be processed from there. At the same time, we noticed the ranch owners gathering for regular meetings once a month. The more I put it together, the more it frightened me.”
“When we laid it all out,” Si interjected., “we had a picture that scared the shit out of all of us at Homeland Security.” He looked at Regan. “Bring up the diagram.”
She clicked through to the next screen. “Take a look. What we have is a situation where the terrorist leaders are brought into Mexico and smuggled into this country by the cartel. Each of them in his own right is a highly trained, highly motivated terrorist leader responsible for some of the most horrendous actions in the Middle East.”
She clicked again, and a map of the United States came up.
“DHS has developed a key-areas map, marking places that terrorist groups could attack where their actions would do the worst damage. It would also leave a leadership vacuum, and they would be able to take over. We were pretty damn sure they would only be able to control certain areas, although that was bad enough.” She looked around the table, her eyes coming to rest on Max. “Then we put together the meetings these ranchers held on a regular basis with the influx of these barbarians and the increased chatter we picked up and realized they were plotting to use these thugs for their own purposes. There would be a network spread across the country, directed by a group of very rich, very powerful people who would use the terrorists to control th
e population. They’d be able to take over and be in complete control. An unholy cabal.”
“We think their ultimate goal is global control,” Si added. “That’s the opinion of the experts, and I actually agree with them.”
Max felt a chill race down his spine. “You’re referring to the group I’m going to be meeting with?”
Regan was the one who answered. “They each have untold wealth and global influence and are avidly power hungry.”
“Jesus Christ.” The words were said softly but no less effectively.
Si nodded. “Exactly. You have five days to memorize everything we have on these people as well as everything about Max Ferron’s life before jumping into this. As I told both of you, you guys resemble the real couple so strongly it’s uncanny. That’s what gave us the idea to do this. No one will be questioning you, especially once you get those background folders down pat.”
“We can do it.” Max knew all about playing a part to accomplish a mission.
Silas gave Max a penetrating stare. “Your job is to get the evidence to put these people away. That’s why we wanted someone with SEAL experience. SEALs have had the most interaction with terrorists and know how they think and act. But it couldn’t be someone on active duty.”
Max sat there, gripped by the familiar feeling of preparing for a mission, except he knew in his sol this trumped any other mission he’d ever taken part in.
“Also,” Si added, “you and Regan need to take this short time to really get to know each other as a married couple would. There can’t be any reason to make these people suspicious.”
Max glanced over at Regan, whose full lips were curved in a tiny smile. “Don’t worry, Max. That’ll be the fun part of this operation.”
That’s what he was afraid of.
Chapter Three
Regan was the central point of information as they spent the morning going over the basic facts as they knew them so everyone had as comprehensive a picture of the situation as possible. Everyone had questions about the people involved and how the extraction would work if it had to happen before the three-day meeting was over. She and Si answered all of them.
George and Kevin would be the backup crew, monitoring any calls from the special phones Max and Regan would have if they couldn’t get through to Si, and constantly in touch with any resources they might need. They were also working with an unexpected bonus on the ground. In checking all key personnel in the area, he’d discovered that Lou Valenti, the county sheriff, was also a former SEAL. He’d gotten clearance to be read in, and the man had nearly been shocked out of his shorts.
“Jed Whitlow and his wife have owned that hunting lodge forever,” he’d told Si. “They’re around a lot during hunting season, but in the past couple of years they’ve entertained guests for a few days every few months. Was this what they were planning the whole time they’ve been here?”
“Appears so,” he confirmed. “It’s a long story how this particular group got together and I’ll fill you in on that. But for now, you need to keep this between us and assure me you’re here if we need you.”
“That’s not a problem. But if we’re going to meet again, I’d just as soon we did it in the next county. These people are obsessive about their privacy, and now I can see why. We don’t want them to know you and I are connected in anyway.”
“So that’s what we did,” Si told everyone after filling them in. “We actually met up two counties away in a strip club, believe it or not. Lou knows the owner, and he let us use his office. Lou will be our boots on the ground in the target location.”
This afternoon, they’d begin to drill Max and Regan on each of the couples involved in this heinous cabal. It was important the two of them be aware of everything the real Max Ferren would know. These people didn’t like surprises, and they’d be on the alert for anything the least off kilter.
When they broke for lunch Si doled out the room assignments, except for Max who already had his. Regan grabbed her suitcase from the front hall and was about to head up the stairs when a warm, rough, masculine hand closed over hers.
“I’ve got it.” The voice had the same rough edge to it.
Strong fingers gripped the handle of her suitcase, and the faint scent of aftershave with a hint of the outdoors in it tickled her nose.
“I— Oh! Okay. Thanks.”
A muscular arm pressed against hers, the warmth of it penetrating her skin. Max DiSalvo was so close she could count the whiskers in his three-day stubble beard, a style that accented his rugged jaw and lean face and matched his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. A faint tingle raced through her, almost unfamiliar it had been so long since she’d felt it.
She slid a sideways glance at him as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She guessed his height at six feet, and his lean, muscular body spoke of his years as a SEAL and the physical work he did since his retirement from the service. Si had certainly picked a good-looking husband for her. She just had to remember that this was all strictly business, and serious business at that. And that he’d been chosen as much for his particular skills as for his uncanny resemblance to Max Ferren. She wondered which of them he’d be called upon to use.
She thought about the days ahead of them. This was her first live mission, so to speak. A lot of years had passed since her husband was killed on a special mission and she’d chosen to fight on in his memory using the skills she had. When she’d detected the first threads of this heinous plot, she’d been sick to her stomach. The more she discovered, the worse it got. An elite group of obnoxiously wealthy people looking to take over the United States and run it like many Middle Eastern countries under the thumb of the worst terrorists they smuggled into this country.
When Si had asked her to take an active role, she’d been unsure at first if she could carry it off. It wasn’t, after all, what she usually did. But then the idea of personally helping to take these people down washed away any reservations she had. Now her only worry was how she was going to carry off the role of Max’s wife. She had seen his photo, of course, when Si showed her pictures of both men. The similarities were uncanny. What she hadn’t been prepared for, however, was the sexual magnetism of Max DiSalvo in person. Walking beside him now, she mentally fanned her face.
Get it together, Regan. This is a job and a damned important one. You’re not a hormone-heavy girl anymore.
Unfortunately her hormones that had been in the deep freeze had decided to wake up on their own and start doing a dance, and at the most inappropriate time. This wasn’t who she was at all. She was here on serious business, thrilled to be chosen for this role, so she’d better get her act together. Their deadline was closer than they’d expected.
“I got my room assignment yesterday when I arrived,” Max told her, waving her toward a large bedroom. “Si said he was putting us next door to each other.” He chuckled. “So we could start getting to know each other. A teasing little joke on his part.”
Regan looked around. “Wow!”
The bedroom was bigger than the living room in her apartment, and the bed was big enough for a slumber party. Everything was done in soft shades of blue and gold that eased her nervous edge at once. A partially open door led to an en suite bath.
He grinned. “Si wasn’t kidding when he said the people who owned this had a bunch of money.”
“I know,” she agreed. “We could probably hold a dance in the living room. I don’t usually come into contact with people in this environment.”
Max quirked an eyebrow at her. “You don’t go to D.C. parties? Or handle missions like this at all?”
She shook her head and gave a short laugh. “No, I’m not on the A list for D.C. social activities. And my work has basically been confined to computers and other electronic equipment, and analyzing the results of what I find. I spend a lot of time hanging out with computer nerds and translators, deciphering stuff.”
“And you like that?” He shook his head. “Stupid question. You must,
or you wouldn’t do it.”
“The answer is yes. It probably sounds boring to an action man like you, but I love taking all the different bits and pieces of things and making them part of a whole. I helped find the information for the mission that took down those bastards who murdered Dylan.” Her smile had little humor in it. “After that it was a way to get past his death. Then it just became a way of life. Every tiny bit of information I discovered was a small victory for me.”
Max nodded. “Dylan was a lucky man.”
“I was the lucky one.” She shrugged. “But you aren’t here to discuss me.”
Max shook his head. “On the contrary. With a possible target date of July 4th, every minute and every bit of information that frames our mission is critical. If we’re going to be husband and wife, the more we know about each other, the easier it will be to pull it off. In fact, I believe Si has time blocked out after everything else for us to learn everything we can about each other.”
“Everything?” Okay, she sounded like an idiot.
Max studied her face for a long moment, something mysterious in his eyes. Then he grinned. “Everything we care to share. How’s that? Meanwhile, I’m in the next room. Let me get myself out of here so you can unpack and we can get down to lunch.”
Regan watched him walk from the room and couldn’t keep from admiring his lean muscular build. The way the slacks fit his long legs and his tight butt. There was something so powerful, so magnetic about him, and she wondered if he knew he exuded sex appeal. Si had not told her anything about his personal life except he was single and ran a commercial fishing company. Why wasn’t he married. Had he ever been? Had his wife been one of those who loved the status of being married to a man in the military but hated dealing with the realities? Regan had sure seen plenty of them.
