Behind the Mask (Undercover Associates Book 4)

by Carolyn Crane

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Hugo and Rio headed in the side. Rio cut apart a section of barbed wire with practiced efficiency, then Hugo held the chain link fence, and Rio clipped that. They tossed the tools and stole in.

  El Gorrion’s men were milling around inside, a group of them talking some hundred yards away near a hut. Noisy trucks passed back and forth with men hanging out the back. The compound was arranged like an army base, with crude roads on a grid between metal huts, and lights strung up on poles. Lots of light. Lots of shadow. Vehicles were parked all around—perhaps intentionally; they’d make good cover. Some distance behind the first group were maybe a hundred men around an outbuilding, and more beyond that.

  If this was how many waited on the side of the compound, it meant that there were a lot more men than they’d imagined.

  It meant they’d take longer getting to Zelda.

  The soldiers hadn’t noticed the two of them yet, but they would soon. That was the plan.

  It was time. Hugo caught Rio’s eye.

  Rio nodded. I have your back—that was what the nod said. Hugo trusted Rio—he was the kind of dangerous man you wanted with you in a fight. But there was something else there in the killer’s eyes, a certain calm that Hugo didn’t like. This would be a hard fight—there were too many men—but Rio seemed calm, even indifferent. Some indifference was critical in a fight—worrying about getting hit was the fastest way to get hit—but Rio struck him as too indifferent. Too dark.

  Rio caught his eyes and something passed between them, a kind of understanding.

  Rio nodded and moved off, disappearing into the shadows. It was time. Hugo lowered his mask, pulled a pair of blades from his bandolier, and threw.

  Cries went up and a man staggered. The field erupted in a deafening chaos of gunfire.

  He began his trek toward the mass of men. Into the shooting.

  Many scattered. Many didn’t. Those who didn’t kept shooting.

  This was bad.

  Hugo kept on as they shot, heart pounding, throwing as fast as he could, hitting the worst-seeming threats. He could hear gunfire from the side—Rio, taking out the men. Some of them fell, more of them broke off and ran. Still some stayed and shot, most taking cover behind vehicles and huts. It was a battle of nerves as more appeared and shot. They were shooting wild, frightened. Why weren’t they running? Had El Gorrion threatened them? Their families?

  He was hit in the left thigh, like a punch to the leg. He forced himself to keep walking through the lightning burn of it, to keep throwing blades. He could feel the blood warm on his leg, spreading. It hurt like hell, and every time he put his weight on that leg, he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t collapse under him like a house of cards. But he kept on—image was important. He felt the zing of a bullet at his ear. A nick.

  More blood. More warmth.

  Then the assault weaponry started. The Associates, coming from behind. That sent a lot of men running. Everything was blood and confusion suddenly.

  The focus was off Hugo. He took off at a run for the center of the compound where they believed she was being held, leg blaring with pain, blood running down his neck. Legions more men appeared and he had to stop and fight again. Tossing, walking, bleeding. He began to feel faint. The drugs. Maybe the blood loss.

  The pattern of the fallen told him that Rio had stayed with him, but there were so many men, too many. Could they do enough damage to get to her?

  Men kept appearing. He was tiring, losing blood.

  Chapter Fifty

  She took a breath, centering herself. She could trust herself to handle things. To do her best.

  Shouts and gunfire sounded in the near distance. El Gorrion waved lazily, dispatching one of the men to investigate. Then he turned to her. “You think this is funny?”

  “No,” she said simply.

  He turned her ankle, positioned it. Then he inspected his implements, taking his time, trying to unnerve her.

  More gunfire. Were the men celebrating? She felt sick. The shooting grew in volume, intensity.

  El Gorrion rose, moving toward the door.

  A respite. String together enough of them and you had a life. Zelda took another deep breath.

  There were more shouts and shots. Not a celebration; the place was under attack.

  Could it be?

  From the door, El Gorrion gave her a sly glance. “It works also if he comes to us.”

  Her blood raced.

  El Gorrion and his three men flattened themselves on either side of the door. She worked furiously at the bonds, with renewed effort, now. Hugo needed her. And Jesus, if Hugo looked in, he’d see only her. He’d come in. it was like the nightmare, her not getting free. She could sense when he was near.

  “It’s a trap!” she screamed.

  El Gorrion grinned. She felt sick.

  “Don’t come in!”

  The door darkened and Hugo bounded in, staggering, mask off, neck and shirt bloody. Hugo. He’d fought his way to her.

  She cried out as El Gorrion’s men closed around him. They struggled, kicked, and finally took him down. It didn’t seem possible, but they had him. He’d been drugged not so long ago, of course.

  He faced her, cheek to the ground, a boot on his head. Five men holding him down. He’d been wounded—in the thigh.

  “Hugo,” she whispered.

  El Gorrion strolled across the place and stopped between them. She cried out in frustration as he blocked her from looking into Hugo’s eyes. She needed him. She always had.

  “Is this Kabakas?” he asked.

  “I’m Kabakas,” Hugo said.

  El Gorrion crowed in rapid Spanish. “And here he is. As I had always said, Kabakas is nothing but flash. You remove the mask, the sword….” He toed Hugo’s neck. “He is nothing but a fairy tale.”

  A new man came in with a pair of swords—the souvenir kind. “Thank you,” El Gorrion said, taking them and swinging them in the pattern that Hugo typically did. “I could never get a man in the eye with a blade as you could, but I made a rather fair facsimile out in the Yacon fields. You leave only one man alive. It is convenient—it meant I had only one person to plant, to pay. I found a man with exceptional storytelling talent.”

  Her heart jumped into her throat. It was just as Hugo had told her—the Yacon fields massacre was a setup. Hugo gazed at El Gorrion grimly, listening, seeming to wait. For what?

  El Gorrion was Dark Kabakas. She worked furiously at her bonds.

  El Gorrion smiled an oily smile. “Heroic Kabakas did not seem so heroic after that.” He strolled a few steps, going on about what he’d done, and once again she had the connection with Hugo.

  “I love you,” Hugo said.

  He loved her.

  “Hugo,” she whispered. The love felt like an old friend, like it had always been there. Hugo had always been there, and she was happy to be with him now. She never wanted to be away from him. “Hugo,” she said. The name contained everything.

  And then somebody kicked him. The kick stung worse than any cut El Gorrion had made. She could endure her own injuries, but not Hugo’s. It frightened her deeply, the power their connection gave to El Gorrion. But at the same time, she found strength in that connection. It was bright and beautiful and it stretched forever.

  “I love you, Hugo,” she said. She felt like they were somewhere forever together. But oh, he was bleeding badly—the whole side of his head.

  Soldiers began crowding in the door, lining up around the sides. She yanked at the ropes. El Gorrion was going to chop Hugo with the blades.

  But then El Gorrion turned to her with a grin on his jowly face, and she realized she was wrong. He’d chop her first.

  She took a breath and eyed Hugo. She wouldn’t scream; she’d live and die in his eyes.

  Hugo eyed her back. She’d learned to read Hugo in these past days, and the calm she saw now baffled her, but she let herself fall into it, trusting him.

  El Gorrion advanced, slow steps
, or maybe it was the adrenaline kicking in, slowing things. It seemed slow motion when some of the soldiers standing around the edges of the dim space began to cry out and fall. What was going on?

  There were shouts and shots. The men all around seemed to be fighting amongst themselves. Suddenly Hugo surged to his feet. He took a soldier on his right with a blade and the other with a gun.

  El Gorrion spun on him, and Hugo lunged. The movement was pure animal, knocking him to the ground.

  Shots came from somewhere else. Had one of the soldiers turned?

  The place erupted into mayhem.

  The barongs flew. There was a crack as Hugo hit El Gorrion in the face.

  Suddenly somebody was behind her, untying her hands.

  “Rio!” She rubbed her wrists as he cut her legs free. She could hear him swear as he saw her feet. “I’m getting you out of here,” he said.

  “No, we have to help Hugo. Give me something.”

  “Some of these guys coming in are ours,” he said, pulling her off the bench. He pushed it over to create a shield. And started shooting.

  Her mouth fell open. “You’re coordinating with Hugo.”

  “Long story.”

  Everything was confusion in the place, but there was Hugo, fighting like a bloody Phoenix. Chaos was his element. He took people down.

  El Gorrion’s soldiers were already scattering.

  And then they were gone and everything was quiet. El Gorrion lay on the ground, cowering at the end of Hugo’s blade. Riley and Cole and Kendrick and a few other guys were there in the El Gorrion greens. They took over for Hugo, who cast his blades aside and headed for her like a man on fire.

  She stood. She didn’t care about her feet. She didn’t feel anything except the pull of Hugo, long legs eating up the distance between them.

  “You were working together,” she said to nobody in particular.

  “Corazón.” Hugo wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up into his arms. “Corazón, corazón, corazón,” he whispered.

  “I’m okay,” she said, because he needed to know that first and foremost. She linked her arms around his neck. “I’m okay.”

  He pulled her violently against his body. The way he clutched her to him was harsh and good, like him.

  Over his shoulder she saw a soldier who looked a lot like Dax join the men who were standing over El Gorrion.

  It was Dax. He gave her a look. She met his eyes over Hugo’s shoulder, feeling none of the old friendship.

  Dax went to stand over El Gorrion. “We’ve got plans for you,” Dax said. “I find it exceedingly interesting that El Gorrion…” he looked up at her “…was Kabakas all along.”

  She understood instantly. Dax would be delivering El Gorrion to the vice president. El Gorrion had confessed to acting as Kabakas. Delivering him would end the standoff.

  She just took it in. It would take more than that to repair things.

  Riley yanked El Gorrion up and somebody spun him around and cuffed him.

  Hugo swiped a small blade from the bench—the blade El Gorrion had used to cut her—and handed it to her. “Take the blade, corazón.

  “What?”

  “Do it.”

  She took it. Hugo spun with her in his arms and headed over to where they had El Gorrion handcuffed. She felt the energy vibrating through him. “He’s hers,” Hugo growled to the group as he stopped, still holding her aloft, face to face now with El Gorrion.

  Dax’s dark eyes flashed from the side. “We need him. We’re going to use him.”

  “Only if she doesn’t want him.” Hugo kissed her cheek. “He’s yours, corazón. Finish him.”

  The blade felt electric in her hands. El Gorrion shrank against the wall. “Finish him. Finish the nightmares. He cut you with the blade. You’ll finish it.”

  Kendrick held him in place. She thought he might slide to the ground if Kendrick wasn’t holding him.

  “She shouldn’t kill him,” Riley said.

  “No, let her,” Dax said “Let her do it. Kabakas is just as useful dead.”

  She looked into the man’s eyes. He was Friar Hovde, right down the blade. Right down to the way he’d tied her. He’d killed so many without mercy. They could turn him over dead as well as alive. In the dream she’d wanted to stab Friar Hovde. She was always sure everything would be repaired if only she could find him and kill him.

  She held onto Hugo’s neck with one hand, the other she gripped the blade, caught between waking and dreaming.

  Hugo lowered his voice. “He waits for you, corazón. If you want him.”

  “No.” She lowered it and turned to look into Hugo’s beautiful eyes. “It’s not about him. It’s not about any of them.” She tossed it.

  She became aware of a helicopter sound. Strafing the ground. Their ride home. It was done.

  Riley and Kendrick led El Gorrion away.

  Hugo held her close. She thought he might never put her down, and that was okay. “Did it help?” he asked. “To have his life in your hands?”

  “Not really,” she said.

  “It didn’t help a little bit?”

  She smiled. “A little bit.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go home.”

  Epilogue: Four months later

  Buena Vista

  Zelda ran a finger over the edge of the SUV’s rear door panel. You could hardly see the seam; no clue that it was false; nothing even rattled when you thumped it. Same with the side panels; nobody would guess a veritable arsenal was hidden in the vehicle.

  Riley, Rio, Angel, and Cole would be traveling through some very hot territory—best they came off like tourists for as long as possible. The Association was in deep pursuit of a vicious organ-peddling ring—a group with lots of firepower and deep political connections throughout North and South America. Exactly the kind of case she and Dax had created the Association for.

  Sometimes she couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat when she thought about what had happened between her and Dax and the other Associates. She understood Dax’s choices on a theoretical level, but in her heart, she felt betrayed.

  And she knew Cole, Rio, Riley, and the rest had just been taking orders from the person they’d always taken orders from. It stung, nevertheless.

  The pirate standoff had been resolved, thanks to the offering of El Gorrion. Zelda had been tremendously relieved when she’d heard. Justice was as important to her as ever. Innocent lives were still important, and for her and Hugo, opening up the remote mountainside home as a staging ground for this operation against the organ ring was a no-brainer. It had been a busy week with the group of them resting up and carefully focusing on strategies, logistics, and supplies instead of what had happened out there in El Gorrion territory. They’d even done some training together out on the windswept grounds, much to Paolo’s delight. It had felt good; a baby step back into Association business. Her first. And the respect had run thick between them all.

  And in truth, it had been a nice break. She and Hugo and Paolo had spent a long, hot summer cutting back the plants and treating the soil. Grueling work, but it had repaired something deep in her soul, dealing with living things again, and working side by side with people who knew the plants as well as their own hands. She’d had more interesting botany conversations and arguments over the past few months than she’d had in years. And it had been amazing to see Hugo develop relationships with the people here, and the way they accepted him—especially when they found out who his mother and grandparents were.

  She found the welding seam. Yeah, almost imperceptible. This, too, called to her. She ran her finger over the beginning and end of it; the metal was still cool from the night air.

  Footsteps. She turned to see Riley coming out of the house with a duffel bag. He wore one of the brightly woven shirts they’d gotten at the Bumcara market. He nodded at the back panel. “You like that?”

  Yeah, she liked it. “Can’t even tell.”

  He stowed the bag and
turned. “Thanks,” he said. “For letting us rest and regroup. Run things out of here. I know you’re still conflicted.”

  “Only about some things.”

  “Like my part in it? Keeping you from going after him?”

  “I can’t fault you for being loyal,” she said. “Anyway, doing the wrong things for the right reasons, that’s pretty much the mission statement for the whole Association, isn’t it?”

  He leaned back against the truck and folded his arms. “You can’t extend that understanding to Dax?”

  She gazed out over the valley as Hugo came out with Rio, who looked cool and crisp and dangerous as ever, even disguised as a turista. “It’s not about understanding, it’s about trust. Dax is still my best friend and I am coming back; it just has to be different after this. It’s painful still.”

  “He’s not doing well,” Rio said. “He needs you back as a friend. Thorne thinks he’s imploding.”

  “Dax is tougher than he seems,” she said as the others came out and stuffed bags into the vehicle. “And I won’t dishonor our friendship with a false reconciliation. He would hate that. And look, we’ve got you losers basing out of this place, right? That’s a step.”

  Rio eyed her, relieved to finally be talking about it, she guessed. “We okay?”

  “After you tried to kill the man I love?” she asked playfully.

  Rio’s smile was evil and beautiful. “I didn’t kill him, though, did I?”

  Hugo’s lip quirked.

  Rio caught it, said nothing. They looked so different, Rio smooth and polished, Hugo with his hard, rough gravity. But they had dark things in common, these two assassins. They had entire underground rivers in common.

  “Boys.” Angel came up and shoved a box into the backseat. “Here’s what’s killing me—that fucking décor in there. I have one word for you—upholstery.” She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I should stay. Help you fix up the place.”

  Hugo gave the Association’s resident safecracker/interior designer a dirty look. She and Hugo were ready for some alone time, and everybody knew it.