Cold Day In Hell

by Jerrie Alexander

  "I thought the FBI gave you my background."

  "Only what you were involved in today. They didn't share the personal stuff."

  She remained silent. For a minute Ty thought she'd refuse to share anymore information.

  "I'd been in Europe since I was thirteen. Sent away for my own safety. But I couldn't stay. I had a promise to keep."

  "What kind of promise?"

  Rapid gunfire, shouting, and screams filtered up from below, ending their conversation. Ty rose, taking the rifle with him. Balanced on the platform of tree limbs, he extended his hand and helped her to her feet.

  The uproar ended as quickly as it had begun, followed by gut-wrenching moans and then total quiet. The commotion had silenced even the smallest insects.

  "That sounded like a small war." Her hand gripped his arm.

  "Except the natives didn't have guns." He had to go run surveillance, but the panic in her eyes stopped him. "Sounded more like a massacre to me."

  "You think Ortega's men might have found us?" Ana's words faded to a whisper.

  Ty's automatic fight response was instantly replaced with a powerful need to shield her from danger. Engulfing her in his arms, he felt her heart pounding against him. Unlike his sister, Ana would not suffer because of his bad decisions.

  He pulled her further away from the sounds of death and waited until she quit shaking.

  The last of daylight was fading, and he had to act before darkness. He pushed hair off her face. "I have to go look. You'll be safer if you stay here."

  "You're not leaving me behind. Not again." Her fingers knotted in his sweaty shirt.

  The noise returned. This time it sounded like partying. He had to get going. Ty pulled the compass from his pocket, extricated one of her hands, and rested it on her palm.

  "Keep the Beretta and satellite phone. If something happens to me, stay put until you're sure it's safe and then go north to the river. This piece-of-junk phone has been nothing but trouble. You have to find a clearing. The minute you do, call for help. Stay out of sight as much as you can, but do not lose this. You have two days. Understand? When you reach the water, go west until you come to a village. Ask for Santiago. There's not but one small dock, so finding Jack Fury should be easy."

  "Why are you telling me all this?"

  "Just in case. Fury's FBI. Trust only him and the voice on the sat phone."

  Tears welled in her eyes. "You'll be back."

  For the third time in two days, he prepared to leave her behind. Her gaze was steady and full of resolve, expecting reassurance, no doubt.

  "You're right. It's information you won't need." He used his index finger to lift her chin higher. "See you soon."

  "Promise?"

  Hell. There were no guarantees, and he hated to lie to her. But his answer would be for her benefit. "Promise."

  Creeping up and down these tree limbs was getting old. Reconnaissance would tell him what had happened below and if he could move Ana.

  They ran the risk of being left behind if they strayed off schedule. Fury hanging around would draw attention. Just like Ty and Ana waiting for another extraction run would be noticed.

  He crossed over to an area where he could see the ground. "Son of a bitch," he muttered under his breath.

  Dead natives were strewn everywhere, their bodies scattered in awkward positions, faces contorted with either surprise or pain. It was easy to figure out what had happened. They had been empty-handed when attacked. Their weapons were still sheathed or resting against tree trunks. The tribesmen had been mercilessly slaughtered.

  Ty counted five waristas. Ana was right in her assumption. Ortega's men must've found the trail he'd cut. One particularly familiar guy walked around, kicking the dead, probably to ensure no one still breathed. Ty caught enough Spanish to understand the men had been ordered to search for anything of value. If found, the loot was to be brought to the head guard.

  Damn, Ty hated to start a gunfight. Gunfire brought friends—unwanted ones. Who knew if this was the entire complement of guards? More of these crazy bastards might be outside the perimeter where they'd remain unseen.

  The apparent leader found some of the natives' food and made himself at home. One man complained about being hungry and was instructed to drag the dead into the jungle.

  Ty had to end this. The longer he put off taking out the murdering bastards, the bigger the chance of discovery. He shifted the HK416 for easier firing and left the AK-47 shouldered and moved lower. Closer. Steadying himself on a small but sturdy limb.

  One of the celebrating waristas stumbled, rolled, and landed flat on his back. His eyes opened wide, and he screeched loudly, pointing in Ty's direction. Ty shut him up with a bullet.

  The leader sprayed bullets the general direction of the shot. Thankfully, these guys weren't known for their marksmanship, and the bullets went wide. Ty cut him down.

  Bullets breezed past, sending shards of bark flying and Ty scrambling for cover. Judging from the sting on his cheek, he'd been nicked by flying debris. Based on the direction of the bullet, he'd been right about the possibility of a guard standing out of sight, and this one had a clear line of vision. He also had piss-poor luck because he was about to die.

  Ty got low and moved to a larger branch just in the nick of time. A rain of gunfire turned the leaves around where he'd sat into confetti.

  The report of a gun blasted from behind. One of the men on the ground crumpled as if his bones had liquefied.

  Ty whirled, his eyes searching for her. There. Body pressed flat against a limb, Ana gave him a quick nod before turning her attention back to the fight. She was taking heavy fire from the rest of the group. Shit. She was about to get herself killed.

  Ty took advantage of the attention being on her and turned the automatic rifle on the remaining men. One steady burst and two of the remaining men fell.

  He didn't look at Ana when the last man dropped face-first. Damn, she was as good with a Beretta 9 mil as any man he'd served with in Afghanistan.

  He scanned the perimeter. Were there more lurking in the shadows? He doubted it. He had to be sure.

  "Stay put." He mouthed the words and received a vehement headshake.

  "I'm coming with you."

  "Damn, woman. Stay here and cover me."

  That got him the nod he needed. He rushed downward and then dropped to the ground. Terra firma felt good under his boots as he quickly moved into the dense jungle.

  He waited. Patience was a virtue in these situations. One he struggled with because he needed to get Ana and move out.

  The rustle of undergrowth alerted him seconds before two men rushed into the open and began spraying the foliage with bullets. Ty fired once.

  Both men went down. What the hell? Ana had fired at the same time he had. The woman was one hell of a shot. His respect for her ramped up another notch.

  Jesus, dead bodies were everywhere. He'd seen massacres before and this one was no different. More innocent than guilty usually lost their lives. This op had turned into a clusterfuck. He got that she wanted revenge, but she'd gone on a fool's journey and had been caught. He vacillated between wishing he could help her and his desire to get her to Bogota so he could get out of Colombia.

  "Coming down," she said.

  Ty moved to the base of the tree and waited for her descent. He had a couple of ways in mind as to how he'd like to thank her. First, he ought to spank her for not following his instructions and staying put. Her shapely legs came into view, and he forgot to be pissed that she'd put her safety at risk. Jesus, he had to get her to the river.

  If Ortega didn't hear from his men soon, he'd send a new group. He couldn't allow her to live and retell her story of how she'd escaped. A drug lord had to protect his reputation. To maintain control, people had to fear him, and letting a woman get the best of him wasn't an option. That thought put a whole new spin on Ty refusing to help her make sure Ortega died.

  Ty caught Ana by the waist and set her on the
ground. "Let's fill up the canteens and get out of here."

  "You can thank me for saving your life later." Her gaze turned serious and locked onto his face. "You're injured."

  "A scratch." He tried to turn, but she placed her hand on his cheek and inspected the cut.

  "Not a scratch. A splinter. That has to come out."

  "Later, Dr. Cisneros."

  "Give me that ointment from your kit."

  "Not now." Damn, she was a bossy woman. The set of her jaw indicated she was used to getting her way. This was one argument they didn't have time for. "We need to move."

  "Be still," she ordered.

  Before he could protest more, she pulled a small shard of tree limb from his cheek. "Ouch." He growled at the satisfied smirk on her face. "You enjoyed that."

  "Now we can go." She waved her hand for him to move out. "Lead on." She flashed pearly white teeth.

  "Remind me later to kick your cute butt." Shit. He wanted his words back the minute they hit the air.

  "You think my butt's cute?" Her eyebrows rose upward in a challenge.

  "That doesn't mean I'm not going to kick it."

  "'Remind me later to let you try," she shot back, using his words. "You'll find I fight dirty."

  With her shoulders back, head held high, she almost glowed. It was survivor's high. One Ty recognized all too well from his years as a Ranger. It was a luxury she couldn't afford. Too many people let their guard down during a moment of euphoria over a victory. Some got themselves killed.

  "It's okay to be confident. It's suicidal to be cocky."

  Chapter Five

  "I understand this is life or death." Ana fought to keep her temper in check. A man like Ty probably didn't understand that "cocky" was her way to hide the fear boiling through her veins.

  "Let's take advantage of the fresh water." He shifted his rifle to the back of his shoulder, knelt down, and rinsed off his face and hands before scrubbing the blood from his cheek. After filling two canteens, he put the lid on one and passed the other to her.

  She drank greedily, deciding the water was the best she'd ever tasted. She swallowed easier when her parched throat found relief. Unable to resist the small waterfall, she splashed her face, neck, and arms. The cool liquid ran down the inside of her blouse, mingling with sweat and grime.

  Finger-combing her hair, she dampened the curls before securing it off her neck in a knot. She turned to find Ty watching her. She closed the gap between them and inspected the cut. At least the wound was clean.

  "You're right, it's not serious. We'll keep an eye out for infection."

  "By the way, thanks for having my back."

  The heat in his gaze sent Ana's heart tumbling. Her hand itched to stroke his jawline, stubble and all.

  She'd never felt so alive. Jeez, the way he was looking at her made her feel like she could fly.

  Oh. My. God. She felt lightheaded. A powerful, passionate need rolled into a knot low in her stomach.

  They stood inches apart. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His breathing was as raspy as hers. He leaned toward her, his gaze locked on her lips. Oh, yes. He was going to kiss her.

  His expression shifted, and the angry American ex-Ranger returned.

  "We're moving out." He stepped back. "Now."

  The adrenaline rushing through her system vanished, morphing into embarrassment. How could she have given into even a moment of lust when a massacre lay at her feet? Dead natives, who in reality were probably harmless, stared at the heavens with cold glares. Even the still faces of Ortega's men no longer looked so evil.

  She uttered a quick prayer before she moved on. Even though she'd had no choice, three human beings lay dead by her hand, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. She had no idea how to deal with the responsibility of killing another person.

  Their faces would be forever embedded in her memory. All this death because of her promise.

  Ty frowned. "Stop that. You've got guilt written all over your face. You're in no way responsible for this debacle."

  All she could muster was a short nod. "I'm ready." Her trust in Ty grew with each moment, and she'd follow without hesitation. She dropped the compass into his shirt pocket.

  "Thanks. Once we leave this clearing, you won't be able to see. I get you not knowing what's ahead can be scary, but you have to trust me."

  "Go. I do trust you." She grabbed his backpack with both hands, expecting him to plunge into the jungle. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at her. The sun was setting, and the orange glow danced in his dark eyes. His caramel skin shimmered.

  "Hang on tight. I don't want to lose you." He kicked the glowing embers. He slid on the goggles, lifted the machete, and with one swing of his powerful arm, they entered the darkness caused by the thick foliage.

  He moved faster and pressed harder while she did her best to hang on. They'd had no way to sew her pants leg back together after he'd cut it open to tend to her ankle and knee. Now pain spread from her foot to the slit in her pants. The material hung up on every low limb, ripping her jeans further up her leg. If he'd noticed the scar, he'd hidden any reaction.

  Time passed, and she had no sense of how long or how far they'd traveled. Sweat coated her skin. The bugs grew thicker, devouring her flesh. No way was she opening her mouth to complain, but if he didn't stop soon, her ankle was going to give out. As if he sensed her weakening, he stopped and turned. Clutching his bicep, she felt his muscles tighten.

  "Ten minutes and we'll rest. You up to it?"

  She covered her mouth with her hand to keep out the insects. "Are there steaks and cold beer waiting?"

  "Got yours right here in my pack."

  "Then what are we waiting for?"

  Moonlight peeked though the canopy, casting eerie shadows across their path. Ana had to force herself to focus on the man leading her to safety. Her thoughts remained with the dead men behind them. She tried and failed to develop a new plan that would end in Ortega's death. One that would allow her parents' spirits to rest. Instead, she blinked back tears for the lives lost.

  A few final swings of the machete and a makeshift road appeared. Weathered and full of holes, the packed dirt was a welcome sight. Out of the dense growth into an open area, a light breeze caressed her cheek. The scent of the constantly moving river sent a rush of adrenaline renewing her strength.

  "We'll stop here. Enjoy a breath of fresh air."

  She accepted the canteen he passed. "Thanks."

  "A minute here and it's back into the jungle."

  "Too bad we can't stay close to the river bank."

  "It would be cooler, but for now we need the jungle for cover. We're not far from the remains of a village. Not much to look at, but maybe one hut will be good enough to use. We'll rest there until daylight."

  "I'm worried they'll catch up."

  "We have to risk it. You need to get off that ankle."

  ****

  Ty had stopped out in the open to ensure phone coverage, so he could call Nate. They needed to talk about Ortega. His determination to find Ana was digging away at Ty's last nerve. This bastard placed zero value on human lives. The slaughter back at the oasis was the perfect example.

  Hoping not to scare the crap out of her, Ty moved out of earshot. Even then, he worded his sentences carefully.

  "Yo," he spoke quietly. "Just checking in." He updated their location and got right to the real point of his call. "What's the status on Marcus?" If things turned bad, Ty wanted the third member of Lost and Found, Inc., Marcus Ricci, for backup. Friends for years, they'd played football in college together. Just like on the gridiron, Marcus would have his back.

  "He's due home in a few days."

  "Did he find the missing girl?" Ty figured he knew the answer. Marcus had been assigned to locate a teenager who'd vanished on the way home from school. He was quiet and deadly, like a pit bull that didn't growl.

  "Her and three others," Nate answered. "They were bruised and battered but alive."


  "If his assignment is finished, I may need him to meet me in Bogota."

  "Do you have problems? I'll come if you need me."

  Shit. Should've known that was coming. "No way. Kay will kill us both. You let that bullet hole heal. Just keep the quiet man in town if you can."

  "No problem. You'll call after you turn the target over to the FBI?"

  "She's not exactly a target, and she has a name," Ty muttered low. "And this bastard Ortega is relentless. He's not going to quit until somebody stops him."

  "No vendettas. The job is complete when Ms. Cisneros is safely in Jack Fury's hands."

  "Listen, damn it. Ortega's men just slaughtered half a village. I had to kill the trigger-happy bastards. Ortega seems to have an unlimited supply, and they're gonna keep coming."

  "I'll keep Marcus in town. He'll be here if you need him. Good enough?"

  "You bet. How about you? The shoulder mended?"

  "Doc said maybe another week. I must be doing okay, because Kaycie flew out this morning. She went to check on Jake's progress."

  "It will be good to hear how he's doing."

  Kay, as everyone called her except her husband, Nate, was keeping a watchful eye on Jake Donovan. Part of the tight-knit group they'd formed back in college, Jake hadn't fared well in Afghanistan. A head injury had turned him into a stranger. Damn near turned him into a monster. Ty hoped the surgery had not only saved Jake's life but restored his memory, too.

  He stuffed the phone in his pack and walked back to where Ana had sat smack in the middle of the makeshift road.

  "Everything all right?" She'd pulled the topknot down and was wrapping her hair around her hand. In one quick move, she secured it right on top of her head.

  "We're right on schedule." He offered her his hand, marveling at the strength of her grip. She might not have been large in stature, but she was strong...inside and out.

  They walked in tandem through the night. The drag on his backpack meant she was struggling. She seemed to be leaning heavily on him.

  "Do you need to stop?"

  "How much farther?"