Ivy's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 4)

by Elle James

  “We’ll keep them occupied until you give us the all-clear,” Merlin said.

  “Roger,” Duff said. He took Ivy’s hand in his and swung wide of the compound and the other members of his team, staying hunkered low to the ground, moving in the shadows as night settled in on the village.

  Gunfire sounded as his team kept the cartel members guessing which direction they could move.

  The Deltas wouldn’t just fire into the camp. Not with the possibility of hitting innocent women and children. They’d fire over the top. If one of the cartel members came within range and presented a threat, Merlin and the others would eliminate the problem.

  Meanwhile, Duff and Ivy hurried around the perimeter. The jungle was different in the dark. Duff almost passed his landmark without realizing it. At the last moment, he looked up as he stood beneath the tree with the Y fork in it.

  His pulse kicked up a notch. They were going to make it out of the jungle and back to civilization. He would have a chance at another date with this incredible woman who’d managed to get away from a notoriously vicious cartel. He wanted to hear that story. But, it would have to wait until they got to safety.

  Pulling the leaves and brush away from where he’d stashed his motorcycle, Duff mounted and made room for her on the back. “You’re gonna have to hold on really tight. We won’t be taking the road out of here. That will be the first place they’ll look for us.”

  “You sure you know which way to go in this jungle?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’ll follow the road without getting up on it. If we see signs of the cartel following us, we’ll go deeper.

  She nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  He touched his hand to her cheek. “I want to hear your story on how you escaped.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you…later,” she promised. “Where are we, anyway?”

  He grinned in the darkness, his teeth shining brightly in the gloom. “Costa Rica.”

  “Costa Rica?” she repeated. “Holy hell.”

  As soon as Ivy mounted the motorcycle, Duff started the engine, put the bike in gear, and took off, headed south toward Cahuita. He hated leaving his team behind to fight the well-armed cartel members without his help. But the whole reason they’d come to Costa Rica was to find and rescue Ivy Fremont. He needed to get her as far away from the cartel camp as possible.

  He rode through the jungle, running parallel with the road, operating the bike with the lights out. Their movement was a lot slower than he would have liked, but the canopy of leaves above effectively blocked what little light was emitted from the stars shining down.

  He’d like nothing more than to hop up onto the road and open the throttle, racing away from the camp, the cartel, and anyone else who wanted to shoot at them.

  They couldn’t ride out in the open in case the cartel caught up with them or notified other members farther along the highway to be on the lookout for their escaped hostage.

  After fifteen minutes of dodging logs, trees, and underbrush, Duff’s shoulders were tense, and his hands already ached on the handlebars. It would be a very long ride if he had to do it all in the jungle.

  Lights ahead on the road made him slow to a stop. Duff ran the motorcycle back behind the trees and parked.

  Ivy got off the back. Duff dismounted and worked his way through the trees toward the road.

  Ivy followed, staying low and moving in the shadows.

  As the headlights neared, Ivy and Duff ducked low in the bushes and watched.

  A truckload of men bearing guns raced past, headed for the compound.

  Duff swore softly.

  Ivy touched a hand to his shoulder. “I hope your teammates will be all right.”

  “They will be,” he said, praying he was right. He wanted all the men to return home.

  “You want to go back and help, don’t you?” she said.

  He squared his shoulders. “No. My job is to get you to safety. Theirs is to provide the distraction so that I can do my job.”

  When the truck’s taillights disappeared down the road, Duff took her hand and walked with her back to the motorcycle. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard on the mouth. “I didn’t know if I’d get to do that again.”

  She sighed and leaned into him. “I didn’t know if you lived through that fall over the cliff.”

  “I’ve done worse off that cliff and lived.”

  He couldn’t see her expression in the dark, just the whites of her eyes and teeth.

  “Come on, we have a long way to go before morning.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To our rendezvous point.”

  “And that is?”

  “The coast.”

  “How far?”

  “Depends on how heavily monitored the roads are. Normally, it would take maybe a little more than an hour. Since there are so few roads leading in and out of the interior, we’re limited to this one.”

  “Better safe than sorry.” She waited for him to climb on the back of the motorcycle and then slipped on behind him. “Have I told you how glad I am that you survived that fall?”

  He covered her hand with his for a brief moment. Duff leaned back so that he could see her silhouette in the darkness. “I’m glad we found you. Had you not been wearing the necklace your mother gave you, we wouldn’t have known where to begin. Did you know it contained a tracking device?”

  Her hand rose to her neck. “My necklace! It’s gone. And no. Mother didn’t tell me that little secret. She only told me that my father had meant to give it to me before he died, and that I should always wear it to remember him. And I have.”

  “She must love you a lot to embed a GPS tracking disk inside it.” Duff slipped his hand into her pocket and pulled out the necklace, handing it to her. “We found it on the tarmac at the airport in Killeen, tracked the plane that had just left for Costa Rica, and had agents on the ground watching for when it landed in Limón.”

  She slipped the chain over her head and tucked the pendent beneath her blouse. “Thank you. All this time I only considered the thought that it was my father’s wish for me to wear it.” She pressed her hand over her blouse and the pendant. “I guess my mother really does care about me, more than just trying to run my life.” She smiled in the darkness, her white teeth the only thing he could tell by.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. Not until we have you back on US soil.” His lips twitched as he recalled seeing her run out of the village and straight at the guard holding a gun on her. “If I recall, you were on your way to rescuing yourself.” He still had heart palpitations from the moment the guard pulled the trigger and the gun jammed. Ivy’s number had obviously not been up.

  They took off again, bumping along the side of the road, sometimes riding down the center, but mostly staying off-road to avoid unseen sentries waiting for them to pass.

  It must have been near midnight when they approached a quiet village somewhere between the compound and Cahuita. Duff recalled seeing the village on the map.

  He switched off the motorcycle engine and let it glide to a stop at the side of the road.

  They dismounted on the edge of the little town of huts and a few concrete block buildings. Several lightbulbs burned in the darkness illuminating the area at the center of the settlement. Beneath the lights stood a couple of men smoking cigarettes and carrying military-grade rifles.

  “We’ll walk it around the village,” he whispered. “The less noise we make the less likely they’ll spot us.”

  Duff pushed the motorcycle through the trees outside the edges of the village. Ivy walked beside him.

  They’d nearly made it to the other end of town when a stray dog barked. His bark got another one going until every dog in town was sending up the alarm.

  Through the huts, Duff could see the men bearing arms looking left and right.

  The stra
y dogs grouped together and raced toward where Duff and Ivy stood in the shadows of the trees.

  “Time to ride,” Duff said. He climbed onto the bike and started the engine as Ivy slid onto the seat behind him.

  The dogs rushed out of the village straight for them.

  Duff twisted the throttle, giving the lightweight bike a shot of fuel, sending them flying through the trees and out the other end of the village.

  He didn’t look back. They had only a few seconds before the sentries got in whatever vehicle they had and came after them. Those few seconds meant the difference between getting away or being caught.

  Duff was leaning toward the scenario where they got away.

  “I see headlights behind us,” Ivy shouted into his ear.

  Duff gave the bike the full throttle and hopped out of the trees onto the road. They wouldn’t get away if they didn’t get some distance between them and the pursuing vehicles before they ducked back into the trees to hide.

  He raced down the road, kicking up dust behind them. They’d gone a couple of miles when the road dipped down into a small stream. Someone had poured concrete over the road to make it a permanent low-water crossing.

  Duff slowed and drove down into the water, then turned and headed downstream, driving in the middle of the bed, kicking up water on both sides. Several yards downstream, he drove up into a tributary and out of the water onto the bank, heading back the way they’d come.

  He turned back toward the road and stopped while still deep in the foliage and shut down the engine.

  Still seated on the motorcycle, Ivy’s arms wrapped around his waist, he waited.

  Chapter 14

  When the headlights appeared on the road, Ivy held her breath, her heart pounding so hard, she was sure Duff could feel it where her chest pressed against his back.

  The closer the lights came, the tighter she held on to Duff’s waist.

  She didn’t want to go back to the compound.

  Duff had stopped the motorcycle behind a stand of trees and low-lying brush. They could barely see the headlights through the brush. Hopefully, the men in the vehicle wouldn’t see them.

  As the vehicle passed, Ivy could see that it appeared to be an old Jeep with the top removed and a machine gun mounted in the center, manned by a rough-looking cartel member. On either side in the back seat were two more men, both carrying semi-automatic rifles with banana clips.

  Ivy willed herself, Duff and the motorcycle to be invisible to the heavily armed men. If they even thought Ivy and Duff were nearby, they might open fire and mow down everything in their path until they finally got to the compound escapees.

  The Jeep continued down the road, dipping down into the low-water crossing and back up on the other side. They didn’t stop or turn back but kept moving.

  “Where to now?” Ivy asked.

  “We wait,” Duff said. “They’ll be back when they don’t catch up with us.”

  They dismounted and crouched in the bushes. Ivy strained her eyes trying to see into the darkness. The stars shined down on the road where the canopy of trees didn’t meet on either side.

  For the next thirty minutes, they remained still in the brush, waiting for the men to return in their search for them.

  Just as Duff predicted, the Jeep eventually returned, moving even slower than before.

  Duff and Ivy ducked down as they passed by shining a high-beam spotlight into the shadows. Ivy counted bodies. Two side gunners, machine gunner and driver. They were all present and accounted for.

  One of the men shouted.

  The Jeep stopped.

  Duff raised his weapon and pointed at the men, ready to open fire if they started toward their position.

  Ivy’s pulse pounded hard and she squatted lower to the ground.

  One of the men slung his weapon over his shoulder, reached for his pants, unzipped and relieved himself on the side of the road.

  When he was finished, he climbed back on the Jeep and it took off a little faster this time.

  Ivy released the breath she’d been holding and swallowed hard to keep from laughing hysterically.

  When the taillights disappeared around a curve in the road, Duff stood. “Let’s go. It won’t be long before sunrise and we need to be at our destination before daylight.”

  He mounted the motorcycle. Ivy climbed on behind him and leaned against him. They drove down the center of the road away from the village and hopefully toward the coast.

  The drugs they’d used on her and the stress she was under dragged at Ivy, making her sleepy. She couldn’t succumb or she’d fall off the back of the bike.

  Duff hadn’t come all that way to rescue her only to have her die because she fell off the back of the motorcycle.

  She fought to stay awake, holding tightly to Duff, feeling as safe as she could possibly be in a hostile environment.

  Eventually, they came to another town, this one bigger than the village.

  The road changed from gravel and dirt to pavement.

  Before they entered, Duff ditched his HK 416 and his vest with the extra magazines, burying them beneath a fallen, rotting tree trunk. He slid a magazine of 9mm bullets in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He tucked the 9mm Glock in the other pant pocket. The last thing he pulled was the communications device out of his ear, stuffing it into his front pocket.

  By the time he was finished, he looked like any tourist on a driving tour of the beautiful country of Costa Rica. After marking the GPS location on his phone, he climbed back on the motorcycle and waited for Ivy to slide on behind him.

  As soon as they entered the town, Duff turned off the main road and zigzagged through the narrow streets.

  This town was more affluent. Beautiful homes were adorned with climbing bougainvillea. The rich and vibrantly colored flowers made a sharp contrast to the stark white stucco. Between some of the homes, Ivy caught glimpses of the starlight glinting off water.

  Duff slowed in a back alley, pulled out his cellphone and brought up an app with a map and a preloaded address. Based on the little blue dot noting their current location, they weren’t far from their destination.

  And a place I can lay down and sleep, Ivy thought.

  “Let me hold the phone,” she said.

  He handed it to her. She held it in front of him where he could check it at the street corners as he drove through the streets. When they finally arrived at the address he’d loaded, they pulled in front of a tall stucco wall with an iron gate. He took the phone from her and called a number.

  “Vance? Magnus McCormick. Sorry to call you so early.” He paused. “Actually, I need a favor. Remember you said whenever I was in Costa Rica to look you up?” Again, he paused. “Well, I’m here…outside your gate. Mind if we come in?”

  All the while Duff was on the call, Ivy stared around the neighborhood, paranoia tugging at her tired mind. The sun had yet to rise, but the gray light of predawn made it easy for them to see and be seen. She prayed Duff’s friend would hurry and let them in.

  A moment later, a man in a pair of swim shorts and sandals, his hair standing on end from having just risen from his bed, opened the gate and pushed the wrought iron rails wide. “Come in, come in,” he said and waved them through.

  Duff pushed the motorcycle out of the street and into the courtyard. “Got a place we can stash this where no one will see it? We have people looking for us.”

  Vance’s eyes widened. “People?”

  “Not exactly sure, but we think we pissed off members of a cartel. And for the matter, we understand if you don’t want us to stay.”

  Vance shook his head. “No, no. Please, get inside. I have a shed in the back where you can store the bike.” He led the way around the white stucco house to the shed, passing pots of red geraniums and bright pink oleander bushes.

  Ivy’s tired brain struggled to make the connection to the vacation atmosphere of the home and the harshness of the cartel compound in the jungle. It was as if they’d traveled
to an entirely different country when they arrived in the town.

  Once Duff had the bike stored out of sight, Vance led them through the back door of his home into a bright, clean, modern kitchen with everything a chef could want to cook up anything the owner’s heart desired.

  “Nice place,” Duff said.

  “Thanks. I like it. Year-round sunshine and tropical breezes beat North Carolina’s humid summers and cold winters any day.”

  “Vance,” Duff turned to Ivy. “This is my girlfriend, Amy Smith. Amy, Vance Tate. Vance and I met six years ago in a bar we frequented outside Fort Bragg, North Carolina when I was stationed there.”

  “And we kept in touch ever since.” Vance held out his hand to Duff first.

  Duff gripped his hand.

  Vance pulled him in for a hug. “We played a few rounds of sand volleyball at that bar. We were a pair. No one could beat us.”

  Duff nodded. “Many tried.”

  Vance let go of Duff’s hand and reached for Ivy’s. “Amy, you said?”

  Ivy glanced at Duff before answering, “That’s right. Amy Smith.”

  “Nice to meet you, Amy. About time Magnus found him a woman. You must be special if he finally succumbed to the fairer sex.”

  “I don’t know about that, but he’s pretty special to me,” she said and meant it.

  “What happened to your face, my dear?” Vance asked.

  She brushed the hair to the side, exposing the cut at her temple. “I hit a branch going through the woods getting away from those people we pissed off.”

  Duff frowned. “We need to take care of that before it gets infected.”

  “There’s a bathroom in the bedroom off the corridor to the right. I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

  Duff led the way down a hallway to a bedroom with a white iron bed and white lace curtains floating in the breeze through the window. He entered the room and turned to her, studying her face. His lips pressed into a thin line. “I didn’t know you were hurt.” He took her hand, drew her into the bathroom, and turned on the water.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, holding the hair out of her face while he dabbed a clean wet washrag over the cut.