"I don't know if they're locals or Ortega's men, but we can't take a chance." He put her down, still holding her weight tucked against him, his hand spread protectively across her midsection.
"There are a few tribes who are friendly." Ana listened but didn't hear human sounds. "Did we lose them?"
"I don't think so," Ty pushed through to the edge of an open area. "This is where I wanted you to rest."
The lagoon was an oasis. Crystal-blue water surrounded by tall shade trees, so unlike most ponds. "It's beautiful."
"Let's see if we can live to enjoy it." Ty took a couple of steps into the open. He scanned the perimeter a few times before motioning her to follow.
"If we're being tracked by villagers, I can tell you they're distrustful of outsiders. They're likely to assume the worst."
"I figured." Ty moved under a tree with a gently sloping trunk that twisted and turned upward as if fighting for a spot in the sun. Its branches seemed to wind aimlessly through the other trees and vegetation. He used a handful of leaves to obliterate their trail before turning to her. "I'll go first. But you stick to my heels."
"Count on it." A shiver raced across her sweaty arms. The chill came not from the fear of being discovered but the steely determination on Ty's face.
He straightened his backpack and took a few extremely long strides up the main trunk. Dozens of birds took flight. Their wings flapped, making as much noise as their squawking. Seemingly unfazed, Ty pulled a rope from a side pocket on his pack and dropped it to her.
"We have to get high and be still, let these birds settle down. Tie this around your waist and then hang on loosely with one hand. Use your other to help balance as you climb. Look at me and don't break eye contact."
Their company was getting closer, and Ana understood time was running out. She pushed the pain aside and followed Ty's instructions. While she climbed, he applied tension to the rope, making her ascent much easier than she'd expected. With each step of her progress, he moved higher. The urge to check was too much, and Ana glanced toward the ground. She stumbled, and her feet slipped out from under her. She sat down hard on a tree limb.
"You okay?"
"I think so. I had no idea we'd climbed so high." She blinked back a lightheaded sensation. She tightened her grip. Turning loose was out of the question.
"We have to keep moving," Ty whispered. "Give me your hand."
"Isn't this far enough?" When had he moved down to her? And why was she so glad he had?
"Not quite. Looks like a good spot a little further up."
She scrambled to stand, slipped and wound up on her belly with her hands and feet dangling. Ty slid his hands under her arms and helped get her feet situated. They began their climb again. The pain in her ankle worsened, shooting sharp stabs of fire until Ana wondered if she could go on. She fought to keep from complaining, but was grateful when he stopped.
"We made it?" Out of breath and exhausted, she continued to lean against him for support.
"Yeah. This is better than I thought."
Ana didn't know what she'd expected, but what she found was a crisscross of limbs woven in and around each other. The small landing would provide a place to rest and stay hidden.
"Nice. As long as the monkeys don't mind sharing, we should be fine."
"Let's elevate your foot. We'll get that boot off and swap out the cold compress."
"You wouldn't have a hot bath and warm meal in that backpack, would you?" She basked in the heat his smile generated. If she read between the lines correctly, the thought of joining her in a huge tub had just crossed his mind.
"Sorry. Not even a small tub." He pulled his gaze away from her, leaving her even more curious about him.
He hung on to her, helping her down. She pulled off her boot and unbound the wrap holding the now-useless cold pack in place.
A slight breeze drifted across her bare skin. "That feels so good."
A Power Bar materialized from his pack. "It's not a hot meal."
She eagerly accepted. "Close enough. What else do you have in there? An air mattress maybe?" She shifted her hip to a new position. The thin tree limbs offered no soft spots.
"Nope. All that's left are the MREs." A hint of a smile graced his face. "That's Meals Ready to Eat."
"Eating one meal a day, they'll taste like steaks."
"Rest. We could be here a while." He applied the fresh compress and rewrapped her ankle. His large hand gripped her knee and squeezed. "Don't go to sleep. Not until I get back."
For some reason, she couldn't take her gaze off his hand. Ana attributed the warmth swirling around her lower stomach to exhaustion. She reached behind her, drew the pistol, and rested it next to her leg. "Go. Just don't stay away too long."
He glanced overhead. He placed a satellite phone next to her gun. "If I'm not back in an hour, find a spot up here where you can see the sky, turn that on, and hit this button. Tell whoever answers who you are, and you need an immediate extraction."
"Don't you dare get yourself killed." She refused to consider the possibility he might not return.
"I believe you're worried about me." His gaze dropped to her lips, and for a second she thought he would kiss her. She found the prospect appealing but incredibly stupid. No way was she having a jungle fling with some stranger who cared nothing about her mission.
"No. You're the reason I'm stuck out here, and I expect you to escort me to Bogota."
****
"Everyone responsible for allowing the breach is dead?" As he surveyed the carnage, Manuel Ortega's blood boiled. His thirst for revenge rose, filling the back of his throat. Manny had learned displays of emotions, especially those of anger, were a sign of weakness and a sure way to lose respect and authority. So, outwardly, his facial expression and tone of voice remained calm. His father had tolerated no outbursts of any kind. Such behavior had brought quick and brutal punishment.
"Not all, jefe." Carlo Medina shifted his feet, his fear reflecting in his wary gaze. "Most of the guards I personally executed. The tracker sent to locate the woman has not checked in. I can only assume he's dead. So I sent two small groups of men out with instructions not to come back without the location of the female and the bastard who did this."
Manny blamed himself for at least part of the destruction. He should've killed the woman when her true identity had been revealed. But he'd been curious as to what she was up to, and he'd thought to have a little sport with her. Her body, ripped into shreds, would have served him well.
With nowhere to sit, he leaned against the hood of his car. The urge to explode, to rant against the destruction, left a bitter taste in his mouth. The financial loss was huge, devastatingly so. Men he could replace, but drugs and equipment would be costly. The loss of face among his competitors was unacceptable. They would pick his bones clean like vultures on a dead carcass.
He swallowed. Tasted blood. Fuck. He'd bitten himself. He clenched his fists, stuffing them deep in his pants pockets.
He'd first thought a rival cartel must've attacked the compound, but now that he'd seen the carnage, he knew differently. Having spent the past five years in the United States under an assumed identity, he'd not only gained a good education, but he'd spent enough time with his American cousins to recognize the work of an expert.
An expert who would die for destroying what belonged to the Ortega family.
"Carlo, my old friend, why are you so nervous?" Manny pushed off the hood of the car and closed the distance between him and his trusted lieutenant.
"Security is my responsibility." Carlo's gaze rose from the tops of his shoes. "Before he died, your father asked me to protect you and the business. I let you both down."
"That's true." The switchblade in Manny's pocket warmed against his skin. "It's hard to believe one man caused this much damage just to rescue a useless woman. Had to be more to it. Total destruction was his goal."
"I agree, jefe. Forgive me, and I will search to the ends of the earth for the pers
on responsible. Revenge will be yours."
Manny pulled his hand away from the knife. With that declaration, Carlo had bought himself some time. "Spare no expense. Kill the parties involved, but bring the woman to me alive. We have unfinished business from years ago."
Chapter Four
Damn, Ty hated leaving Ana alone. Every time he left her unprotected, she was open to any number of problems. If she dozed off, she could find herself facing anything from deadly snakes to venomous frogs.
Using one of the sturdier branches, he moved down the tree. He had to evaluate the threat. If, in fact, one existed. More than a dozen armed men posed issues. Less and he could pick them off from his vantage point.
Voices grew louder. Multiple voices. They weren't speaking English or the Colombian Spanish that he'd had only a few days to learn. He didn't figure it would help to ask if they'd speak slowly.
Natives dressed in wraparound skirts filed into the open area next to the water. A few wore loud-colored, modern-day, board shorts. Their heads, necks, and upper bodies were covered with tattoos, some more extensive than others. Streaks of red, possibly dried blood, crisscrossed each face. A quick count of heads and Ty had twenty men below. He really hoped they weren't looking for him and Ana.
Judging from the blow guns and primitive bows and arrows, a group of hunters had arrived. The questions of the day? Exactly what were they hunting? And how long were they staying?
Three of the tribesmen fanned out, checking the area thoroughly before waving to the group what Ty surmised to be the all-clear sign, since they started setting up camp. They gathered twigs and dead leaves and kicked off a fire. This group wasn't just passing through, they were bedding down for the night. In the daylight, the only reason for any kind of blaze was to cook or to keep predators at bay.
A sound from above drew his attention away from the men below, and he palmed the knife from inside his boot.
Ana's topknot came into view. Son of a bitch. She was going to get herself killed, slithering down the tree branch like a snake. He stowed the knife and crawled her direction. He stabbed a finger through the air, indicating she should stop and wait. She complied, but one eyebrow jerked up in question.
When he reached her, he leaned close to her ear and asked, "What about the words 'stay put' did you not understand?"
"I smelled smoke. I wanted to see if you were on a spit being turned over an open flame."
"Scoot forward slowly." Not laughing at her wisecrack, he decided since she was there maybe she'd recognize the tribe by their tattoos. It would be nice to identify whether they were hostile or friendly. "See if you know this bunch."
She nodded and moved past him. Ty slid close behind. One of the men below pointed to the ground on the other side of the pond and babbled something loudly. Crap. Ty hadn't had time to wipe out all the footprints. He wasn't overly concerned his boot prints had been spotted, but Ana's were decidedly smaller. Their enthusiasm over the discovery put a knot between his shoulder blades. He instinctively slid his hand around her waist and pulled her against his chest. He'd kill the lot of them before they touched her.
"What's wrong?" Her back had gone stiff when he snuggled her close.
"Can you speak the language?" he whispered.
"Not a word."
"Judging by their reaction to the footprints, they're interested in figuring out when we were here and where we are now." Ty moved back up the tree limb, pulling her with him. "We can't take a chance on them not being friendly."
"The tribes who live by the river encourage visitors to stop and buy handmade purses and trinkets. Some of the necklaces have semiprecious stones and are quite beautiful," Ana whispered. "But there are a few left who fight off civilization with a vengeance. The extensive tattoos mean nothing to me, but the blood on their cheeks indicate they're hunting."
"I met one of the friendlier tribes on my way in. We're being picked up in their village."
Ty turned his attention above, measuring the peril of climbing higher against the possibility of being spotted. It was a no-brainer. If by some long shot he was killed and Ana captured, she'd be in serious trouble. The thought sent his heart jackhammering against his rib cage.
"How's the ankle?"
"Swollen but tolerable. Why?"
"We need to climb." He reached for her, and she placed her hand in his. That simple gesture told him that she trusted him, and for some odd reason, her faith in him expanded a small area in his chest. Bringing light inside to formerly dark places.
Nate's caution circled through Ty's brain. Affection of any kind for a target was a rookie mistake. The ultimate error that could get them both killed. One he knew better than to make. His conscience was crowded enough with guilt already.
She pushed herself higher, slipped and ripped a hole in her jeans. A red stain spread across her knee, but she didn't make a sound. She kept moving, and the warning from Nate not to care about her faded from Ty's memory.
He spotted a good place to rest where three small limbs crossed. Growing around themselves, they'd formed a triangular platform. He placed his hand on her back, and she stopped her forward movement. "A few more feet and we'll wait them out up there." He pointed to the area.
"Thank God." She chuckled, surprising him with her humor.
He stood when they reached the makeshift platform, removed the machete, and pared back some of the larger leaves, laying them out as a mat. "Here you go. All the comforts of home."
She scooted to the center of the flattest area and leaned back, resting her hand on her stomach. "I don't even want to know how high off the ground we are. Thinking about it makes me queasy. You do know that the root system of some trees in the jungle is so weak it's not uncommon from them to fall."
"Then we best not move around too much. I didn't see another option. Did you?"
"No. Just wanted to point that out." The corners of her mouth lifted.
Her smile was weak, but she held her head high. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, and she wiped damp tendrils from her face. Damned if she wasn't more beautiful today.
Except for a few strands, her brown hair had worked its way out of the knot she'd forced it into, and had fallen in thick waves around her shoulders. On her, disheveled looked good.
Shit, her hair was of zero interest to him. The sooner the bastards on the ground moved out, the quicker he could get her moving and deliver her to safety. The clock was ticking, and the window of escaping safely was narrowing. Would Jack Fury wait? How long could he stay at the dock before the wrong people noticed him hanging around?
"Let's have a look at your knee."
Ty crawled to her side, noting the injury was on the same leg as the sprain. Resting the backpack next to her, he fished out his knife and slit her jeans. The scratch ran higher so he tugged and the material ripped too far.
"Sorry," he said to her gasp. He dug out the first aid kit, cleaned, and bandaged the scrape. The delicate curves and softness of her skin hadn't escaped Ty's notice, and he suppressed the urge to run his fingers down her calf. Drawing on self-control, he reached to straighten her jeans when he noticed a scar. An old one, thin and jagged, just the tip exposed. How had this happened? Better yet, who'd done this to her?
"Do we have enough water?" she asked.
"There's plenty," he lied, passing her one of the canteens. He'd counted on filling them from the small waterfall that fed the pond. He had enough to keep her hydrated, and he'd be fine until the tribesmen moved on tomorrow. "Next time you get thirsty speak up. Can't have you dehydrating."
Ty stretched out beside her and stared up toward the seldom-seen sky. A breeze moved through, spreading the leaves overhead and offering a hint of blue and a welcome relief. The break was short-lived, and minutes later the air again went still.
Doing nothing was the hardest part of waiting, add to that the fact they were virtually captives and time passed slower. The only bright side was Ana's injuries would have a chance to start healing. She shifted to her s
ide and propped her head in her hand. He recognized the sign. She wanted to chat. He didn't do chats.
Ty closed his eyes, feigning sleep.
"So what's your story?" she asked.
Damn. She was too smart to think he'd taken an afternoon snooze. "Don't have one."
"That's not true. What happened in your past that makes you risk your life for strangers?"
"Getting a little nosy, aren't you?"
"What else are we supposed to do except talk and watch for snakes?"
Ty rolled to face her. He struggled to keep the smile under control and his sexy thoughts to himself. "My first idea would get my face slapped, so I'll go with my second. You can tell me why you're hell-bent to see Manuel Ortega dead."
Confusion played across her face for a split second before an I-know-where-your-dirty-mind-was smile tugged at her mouth, which only served to send him deeper into his now-blooming fantasy of kissing her until she came undone in his arms. When she didn't respond to his question, he pressed.
"According to your file, a couple of years ago you started lobbying the government to take a stronger stand against the cartels. Ortega being your primary target. What makes you think you have the wherewithal to take on a drug lord?"
"What makes you think I want to talk about myself?"
"Don't do that. You started this conversation." No way was Ty offering up his past for her to dissect. He intended to keep this conversation directed toward her. "Your accent isn't as heavy as the guards' at the compound. Your speech indicates you're well educated, and from what I've read, most Colombians aren't privileged and don't have a lot of schooling. How'd you manage that?"
She stared at him. Did he imagine a flare of interest? Her gaze raked across his face, leaving heat trails. It was as if she searched for something. Damn, there was that urge to drag her into his arms. Had it been so long since he'd had a woman that his mind kept drifting? Yeah, it had.
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