by Taylor Hart
Even though Rico was still talking in an easy tone, every part of him was tense and on edge.
Alexa nodded. She knew these things, but she’d never been this close to the truth. She blinked and looked out at the blatant poverty that lined the street. “It’s awful.”
Gary leaned forward, his own eyes intense. “Where are you taking us, Rico? Pull the damn car over.”
At this, Rico laughed, but it wasn’t the same easy laugh from earlier. “You want me to pull the car over?”
Gary nodded, his hand pulling out the gun from his vest. “I think you better pull over.”
Rico said something in Spanish to the driver, who began to slow.
Alexa turned to Sam. Nothing in his demeanor had changed, but he was coiled, ready to strike. Ready to do something if he had to.
Alexa thought of the small gun in her purse on the seat.
As the car pulled off to the edge of the street and stopped, Rico leaned down and pulled out his own gun, pointing it casually at Alexa. He tsked his tongue and looked at Gary. “You, get out.”
Gary hesitated.
Rico looked at Sam. “You should know better than to trust a man like him.”
Sam frowned.
Rico scooted closer to Alexa, the gun pushing against her ribs. “A man that touts loyalty while stabbing you in the back.”
“Shut up!” Gary shouted, pointing his gun at point blank range at Rico’s head.
Rico shook his head. “Don’t you see, Sam?” He lifted his chin to Gary. “Your boss informed Santiago of everything you were doing. Haven’t you wondered why Marco has always been one step ahead of you?”
“That’s not true!” Gary protested, pushing the gun closer to Rico.
Sam still didn’t show any response to the accusation of betrayal, but he did lift his gun to Rico. “Put your gun down.”
The limo stopped, and the window separating the driver from the rest of them slowly came down. “Is everything okay?”
Letting out a sigh, Rico leaned in and smelled Alexa. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it is.”
Before any of them knew what was happening, the sound of a loud whistle whooshed through the air.
Gary instantly slumped over, a dart sticking out of his neck.
Sam’s gun stayed on Rico. “What the—”
The door opened, and Gary was pulled out by some other men.
Rico grinned. “If you want to keep your girl safe, Mr. Dubois, I would advise you put your gun down and let us get back to where we’re going.”
Stunned, Alexa didn’t know what to do. Gary’s body was being dragged to a car behind them. She didn’t know what to believe, but she was worried for Gary. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking as she asked, “Where are you taking him?”
Another man shut the door and got back in the front of the limo. The limo began moving again. Rico relaxed his gun, putting it on his lap and easily slid his arm around Alexa. “Don’t worry.” He gave a delighted grin. “I thought Marco was a fool for risking so much for a woman.” He patted her head again. “But now I am beginning to see the situation with new eyes. You are like a delicate flower.”
Sam kept his gun pointed at Rico. “Get your hands off of her.”
Rico didn’t quit patting her. “You see, Mr. Dubois, that is your problem.”
Sam sighed. “What’s my problem?”
Rico turned to him, keeping his hand on Alexa’s shoulder. “You should never take something you want into negotiations.”
Sam’s jaw flexed. Alexa saw anger swirl in his eyes. It was the same kind of crazy anger that she’d seen when he’d pummeled the man at the hotel. “And who am I going into negotiations with?”
Rico gave a mischievous grin. “Come on…” he taunted him. “Does your intel leave you so lacking that you couldn’t come up with anyone that would want to help you take down the Santiago cartel?”
Nothing Rico was saying was making any sense and, even though Alexa hated herself for it, she was terrified. “Sam?”
All of a sudden, Sam put his gun on his lap, exhaling loudly. “Rico Floren Cruz.”
It seemed to Alexa that Rico was very pleased Sam had finally recognized who he really was.
Rico put his gun down and laughed, although it sounded funny and off key. “Finally. I was going to be disappointed in you, Sam Dubois.”
Sam looked at Alexa and gave a slight shake of his head.
“What?” Alexa couldn’t stop herself. She turned to Rico and asked, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
Chapter 3
The Cruz mansion stood tall with large white pillars and arches that were in sync with the tropical feel of Colombian architecture. A large acre-wide garden with cement statues and fountains set the estate off from the rest of the jungle. Sam had studied this mansion. In fact, he’d studied all of Cartagena in detail for the past five years while being part of the Santiago project. Despite all of that intel, the size and opulence of the estate still stunned him.
He and Alexa followed Rico into the mansion that was furnished with lush rugs, gold-plated frames, and plants that flowed seamlessly from the outside to the open expanse of the living room. They were escorted to white couches and blood red chairs all seated around a rectangular table. Sandwiches and bottles of water were set out.
When Sam realized they’d been hijacked by the Cruz family, all the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. Powerful Cartel families were always making a play for the kingdom. They wanted more of the market share, and getting the chance to take down another cartel, especially a more powerful one than their own, would ensure their family became the new dominant power in the region.
Sam had heard about Rico Cruz. He was the son of ‘Papa Cruz’ as everyone in, and outside of, the family called him. Sam had heard he was enterprising and a rising star among the sons yearning to take over the family business, but he hadn’t realized just how enterprising Rico really was. In the drug business, loyalty was valued highly, but increasing your piece of the market share was valued even more.
It appeared that someone in the Santiago family had shared too much information with Rico, and now Rico had used that information to his advantage. It didn’t happen often that American agencies were used as pawns in the cartel’s game of grab for power. The early eighties had taught America that there was nothing to gain by cutting off the main heads of power as far as drug smuggling went. As the saying goes, ‘when one head is cut off, two or three more rise.’
Drugs and power were an insatiable business. Consequently the Drug Enforcement Agencies had learned to stay out of other countries’ business. America tried to focus solely on preventing drugs from coming into the country.
The tragic thing, Sam reasoned, was that Rico was right about one thing—there was a large hypocrisy in policy and practice when it came to America. Many of the very same men and women that made these policies about trying to rid America of drugs were the very same people who also had no solutions when it came to getting America off drugs.
Sam didn’t know what the solution to this problem was either. But he wasn’t there to debate the moral relativity of policies put in place that took a lot of money to enforce with seemingly not a lot of success.
No. He was there to get Alexa’s father back. And he was there to get rid of the Santiagos. Granted, this had not been the way he’d seen it happening, but Sam figured beggars couldn’t be choosers.
It burned him that Gary was the mole. It burned him even more that he hadn’t seen it. It really burned him that he was now on a mission, with the woman he loved, completely blind.
He didn’t know who they were supposed to meet. He didn’t know who was on the team of FBI guys or where the safe house was. This had all been information Gary had assured him had been taken care of.
As far as he knew, there might not even be an “official team.” Ever since Rico had broken the news of Gary’s betrayal, Sam’s mind had been swimming with questions. With unknowns. Wonderi
ng what had been real with Gary and what had been part of his double agent façade. He didn’t know if Gary was a double agent or just some coward on the take, and though he was frustrated, none of it mattered now. He felt his hand twitch to his gun, but he refused to take it out of the back of his pants. Sweat trickled between the space between his back and shoulder blades, and he told himself to keep his breathing steady.
He didn’t know who to trust or how to move forward, but Sam did know one thing. In all his training he’d been told if you want to negotiate, you had to have something they wanted. Sam just had to figure out what they wanted, and then he would figure out a way to get Alexa out of here.
There were three men seated at the table with the blood red chairs. A large fan in the shape of palm leaves circled above their heads. A pretty older woman stood next to the man at the head of the table, presumably Papa Cruz.
The older man stood as they approached. He was dressed in black suit pants and a white pressed shirt. He smiled and extended his hand.
Rico gestured to his father. “Papa, meet Agent Dubois and Alexa Fulbright.”
Sam didn’t put his hand out.
Papa Cruz shifted and reached for Alexa’s hand, which she initially seemed unsure of giving him. After hesitating for a moment, she relented.
He kissed the back of it and grinned. “Welcome.” He pointed to the chairs. “Sit. Eat.”
Sam and Alexa sat.
Rico moved to stand next to his father, his mischievous grin from earlier still in place. The way he looked at Alexa hadn’t been lost on Sam—as if she were some piece of delectable food that he couldn’t wait to put across his lips. It made Sam’s blood curl, but Sam ignored him, focusing on Papa Cruz.
“Please, you must be hungry.” Papa Cruz nodded to the woman next to him, and she took two plates and filled them with sandwiches. More women appeared to put margarita-style glasses in front of them and filled them with something that smelled fruity.
Alexa looked calm, but she didn’t reach for anything, meeting his eyes.
First unofficial rule of negotiation, give a little and take a little. Sam nodded to the food and then took a bottle of water for himself. “Thank you.”
Papa Cruz leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and appeared at complete ease. “So my son has informed you of the situation?”
Sam stared distastefully into Rico’s eyes then looked back at his father. “I’ve been informed of the situation.”
Papa Cruz’s face broke into a satisfied grin, and he reached for one of the sandwiches. “I don’t know if you believe in fate, Mr. Dubois, but some days it feels like something has aligned to make things…well, better for your family.” He nodded to him. “I’m sure you understand it is basic capitalism. You Americans always understand these things. We want to...” He broke off and air quoted. “Live the American dream.”
Alexa reached for a bottle of water, and her eyes flashed with worry.
Sam kept his eyes locked on Papa Cruz, keeping any emotion off of his face. “You do know that I have a team I need to meet with.” It was a bluff. He honestly didn’t know if he still had a team, but he figured they would know if other Americans had come in.
Papa Cruz took a sip of the margarita. “Ah, but your fearless leader told Santiago’s men everything, so I know everything.” He turned smug.
Being on the side of the conversation where he had to beg for information was not the side Sam liked being on. “What is that?”
Shaking his finger at him, he sighed. “This mission was off the books. It was going to be used to cover all traces that there ever was a mission.” The side of his lip went down. “Do you understand what that means, Mr. Dubois?”
He knew what it meant. It meant that Gary had done more than sell secrets or double cross the Bureau. It meant that Gary had meant to kill him and probably hand Alexa over to Marco. Maybe he wouldn’t have killed him personally. He may have intended to hand him over to be killed. Sam’s head on a platter would have made a nice wedding present for Marco. Cold chills rushed through him. If Rico hadn’t intercepted them at the ship, it was very likely that Sam would be dead and Alexa would be reciting vows or watching her father get killed.
Papa Cruz’s saw the moment Sam understood the situation. He laughed. “Ah, there you go. You see, Agent Dubois. Today is a very fortunate day for the both of us.”
He didn’t know if there was a team that was going to meet them. He didn’t know if Gary had set all of it up himself. It was one of those moments when Sam wished he had been paying more attention when Gary had been making calls. But he’d been too preoccupied getting Alexa prepped and ready. It wasn’t in Sam’s nature to admit that he was beat, but one rule of survival is seeing the truth of a situation. If he were by himself on this mission or with another trained partner, he might have a chance to go it alone or figure out a different plan, but as things were…it didn’t look like they had a lot of options.
Alexa flashed a smile and picked up a sandwich. “Papa Cruz, why don’t you tell us how we can help you take down Santiago and get my father back?”
Chapter 4
The bed was by far one of the fanciest she’d ever slept in with satin sheets and a soft mattress. Alexa had been given a beautiful, red off-the-shoulder silk night gown that made her feel like she was a princess in a castle, rather than being held in some Drug Cartel family’s private mansion. She wouldn’t have put it on except her clothes were soaked with sweat.
They’d detailed the plans at the table earlier. It was simple. She and Sam would be taken to the Santiago family as a gift. Mr. Santiago was known for his extreme paranoid behavior, and he never met in person with anyone except family…and now Marco.
This had created the problem for families like the Cruz’s that wanted to assassinate him. Mr. Santiago had six daughters and no one, except Marco, was in line to take over the business.
His death would mean whatever toughest, meanest jerk got in line first would take over. The Cruz family had taken great care to be the next in line to fill the gap.
Sam had vowed to them that he would kill Mr. Santiago along with Marco. In exchange, he and Alexa and Frank would be given their freedom and passage back to the states.
Of course Marco and the Santiago family were already worried about the Americans, aka her and Sam, that had arrived and were missing. There had been phone calls to the Cruz family and all the cartel families. Papa Cruz had even sent out a few men to help with the ‘search.’
Alexa knew that Marco would be furious and upset. Her stomach knotted thinking about what he would do to her father. Hopefully, he would still be patient, knowing that her father would be the only way she could ever be controlled.
It made her sick to think of the depths Marco had sunk to get her to come. He’d known. She moved onto her side and thoughts of the way she’d let him kiss her and hold her when she’d been held in Florida flooded her mind. Tears bubbled in her eyes and spilled silently down her cheeks. She would not lose it. It had been rough. The residual affects of the drugs Marco had given her had only left her with nightmares and emotional scars. Luckily, physically she felt fine. She couldn’t help but wonder how much her psyche could take before it broke. Honestly, she didn’t fear the pain Marco would inflict on her. She could take it, but seeing her father broken, now that would kill her. It may be a slow death, but she would rather slit her throat than have it go that way. She would. She knew her father would rather have her die than have her be used as some puppet for Marco. She shuddered.
The door creaked open, and Alexa jerked to a sitting position. “Hello?” Her mind flashed to Rico. He always looked at her like a dog waiting for a meal, and she was worried that he was the one making a stop to her room tonight.
“Shh, it’s okay, Lex. It’s me.”
Sam. She lay back down, and Sam appeared next to her. In the moonlight, she saw he had on his shorts but his shirt was off. Coming next to her, he gently put a hand onto her forehead. “Hey.”
>
She grinned. “How did you get past your guard?”
The side of his lip tugged up, and Alexa recognized the boy from college she’d fallen in love with. “Hey, I’m an FBI agent, remember?”
Letting out a soft laugh, she scooted over in the bed. Even though she and Sam had made it a practice not to sleep next to each other, tonight she needed his comfort. One of the things she treasured about their relationship was that both of them had agreed a long time ago that they would wait to give themselves to each other until they were married.
He slid into bed, and she cuddled up against him, relishing the feeling of his bare chest and letting herself just enjoy this moment even if he only stayed for a few minutes—feeling loved and guarded and safe.
Alexa pressed her hand against Sam’s chest and felt him hold her closer. She knew neither of them would sleep well. “Are you okay?” Even though he would play tough guy, his act did comfort her.
“Yes.” He kissed her head and stroked the hair back off of her forehead.
Closing her eyes, she snuggled her head closer, easily fitting beneath his chin and chest. Since her father’s kidnapping, he’d been coming into her room at night and holding her until she fell asleep. When she woke, he was always gone. In fact, she never knew when he slept or for how long. He’d always been so strong, and she’d never worried about him. Until now. “Why do you do it, Sam?”
“What?”
“Do this insane job?”
He hesitated. “When I started, I thought I could make a real difference in the world, ya know? But after all of this, I don’t know if any of it matters.”
Every part of her was terrified for his safety. “I don’t want you to do it anymore. After this.”
