by Desiree Holt
“Well, we’re in a pickle now, Digger,” the senator pointed out. “You’ll need a pretty big shovel this time around.”
The man known to his friends as Digger grimaced. “You’ve got that right. Did they at least find out who the man at the house was?”
“No but they got the license plate and we’re tracing it now.”
“We would have known about her connection to Halloran if you’d found out everything about her the first time she met with you.”
Winslow snorted. “Give me a break. Her publisher’s an old friend of mine. I do this pretty often for him. If I had every author who interviews me investigated I wouldn’t have time for anything else.” He rose and began pacing the length of the office. “At least I got the ball rolling this time.”
“Hopefully not a day late and a dollar short,” Digger pointed out. “Now we have to hustle our butts to find out where she could go to hide and who she’s hooked up with.”
“We still don’t know where Joey Latrobe’s being hidden or what he can tell people. And we have to identify the man who visited Faith Wilding.”
“Working on it, working on it.” A muscle twitched in Digger’s cheek.
“It’s probably time to get rid of Halloran, now that we know who he’s sending the messages to.”
Digger shook his head. “Not until we find out if he knows who gave them the info about the meeting.”
Winslow frowned. “Would he even know? That order came down from—”
“Damn it,” Digger bit off. “I know where it came from. Don’t rub my nose in it. But there had to be a source and that may have been in the mission briefing.” He slammed his hand on the desk. “All right. I’ll give our friend a call, tell him he’s got forty-eight hours to get that information. Then we have to cut our losses and figure out how to do damage control.”
* * * * *
The rain had been pounding down since early morning, the wind whipping it against the windows of the cabin. Standing at the bedroom window, looking out over the cliff, Mike could see the waves of the Atlantic churning into whitecaps. Springtime in South Central Texas where Rick was at the moment might mean soft breezes and sunshine but on the Maine coast it meant brutal storms and bone-chilling cold as winter refused to release its hold on the countryside. He only hoped the wind would die down before the helicopter landed later in the day.
Joey was propped up in bed eating soup with Troy’s assistance. His pallor concerned the men in the room with him and they could see the pain in his eyes but he refused to let Troy medicate to the point where he couldn’t think.
“Captain Halloran doesn’t have time to wait for me to get better. Those fuckers are probably ripping him to shreds right now. I’m good to go. Let’s get on with this.”
Dan looked at Troy with raised eyebrows.
“He’s in a lot of pain,” Troy answered the unspoken question, “but I’m watching him. If I see he’s pushing himself too far I’ll cut it off.”
“No, you won’t.” Joey jerked his head and a soft moan of pain escaped his lips.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Mike said.
“No. Please.” Joey took a deep breath, as deep as he could and let it out slowly. “Let me at least get the rest of the basics out.”
“All right.” Dan pulled his chair closer to the bed and unfolded the map of Peru. “We’ve circled Iquito there.” He pointed with his finger. “Can you figure how close to the city the temporary camp was?”
“I’d say no more than an hour.” He moved his good arm to run his fingertip over the spidery lines that indicated crude roads. “The insertion was at night and we could still see the lights of Iquito. We calculated the distance by that.”
“That still leaves a big circle to choose from,” Mike said. “Anything else you remember?”
Joey frowned in concentration. “We came in over the water and did the drop not far from where the Amazon curves in here.” He pointed on the map. “I remember that little cover because the river takes a sharp turn there.”
“Then what?” Dan prompted.
“Okay. Let’s see. We had the GPS coordinates so I’d say we found them right about…here.” He touched another spot. “But they moved from there and took the captain with them.” He looked up. “I get the feeling they didn’t go more than five or ten miles though.”
“All right.” Dan folded up the map. “This gives us a starting place. And you, my young friend, need to take your meds and get some more rest.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’m going to make some calls. Reach out to some people that can get us more specific information.”
“Yeah.” Mike turned away from the window. “We’ve got folks we can contact. This terror cell may have picked a temporary place for their meeting to keep it secret but their camp won’t be as well hidden. Word of it can’t help but filter out. Someone will know where it is, now that we’ve got a starting point.”
Troy took the empty soup cup from Joey and picked up a syringe from the nightstand. It had been less than forty-eight hours since they snatched him from the hospital so they were still giving him antibiotics to fight off possible infection and pain meds strong enough to keep him comfortable. It would be a while yet before they could cut back on the dosages, despite his constantly stated desire to stay awake and talk to them.
“Time for your nap, tough guy,” Troy told him now, as he shooed the others out of the room. “Don’t worry. You’ll get all the gory details.”
When they were gathered around the table again with filled coffee mugs, Dan picked up the satellite phone. “I think it’s time to do some reaching out. Rick will be back here with our two guests in about…” He looked at his watch. “Three hours. I’d like to have everything locked down by then and be ready to roll.”
“Yeah, our guests.” Mike fiddled with his mug. “What the hell are we going to do with two women up here along with our patient?”
Dan punched some numbers into the phone. “I’m getting my cousins up here to stand sentry. They’re just back from that job in Guatemala so I know they’re available.” When a voice answered on the other end he walked away from the table and spoke in low tones.
Mike and Troy looked at each other.
“What a fucking mess,” Mike said.
“Ain’t that just the truth.” He looked out the window. “I hope this weather goes away before we have to hit the air.”
“I just hope these women don’t give us any shit.”
Troy snorted. “Yeah, right. I can hardly wait to hear Rick’s story on this Wilding woman.”
“He didn’t give you any clue?”
Troy shook his head. “Only that he’d rather tell us in person.”
“About what?” Dan asked, coming back to the table.
“About why someone’s so hot to kill Faith Wilding and why he needs to stash her away here instead of some hotel.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Meanwhile we have things to do. Mike, get the firepower out and make sure everything’s clean and in working order. Troy, you get the clothes out of the chest over there. Camo suit, wet suits just in case, grease paint. Then pull out all the comm gear and check each piece over. I’m going to give the map another shot, then see what Dragon can tell us about the layout.”
“Be nice if he could pinpoint exactly where the camp is,” Troy said in a wry voice.
“He may just do that. All right, everyone.” He looked around the room. “Let’s get to work.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mark had dozed off and on after he heard the Wolf walk away. He felt fuzzy and his skin was hot. He was sure that his very meager efforts had not been able to stave off infection from his wounds. He had no idea how long it had been since anyone entered the tent. Except for the rising and setting of the sun he’d lost all concept of time.
Tidbit, he thought.
God, if there was any way at all to get him out of this unholy mess, he was never going to let her go again. Othe
r men in his situation got married and made it work. Why had he been so dumb as to think he couldn’t? And why hadn’t he even given Faith a chance to make her own choice? If he had the strength he’d have hit himself on the side of the head.
At some point one of Escobedo’s men brought him his ration of water and whatever passed for food. Barely enough to keep him alive but apparently they weren’t ready to kill him yet. He used a torn piece of his shirt to clean his wounds as best he could, then drank the rest of the water slowly. He might not die of dehydration, he thought wryly but he’d be lucky if dysentery didn’t get him.
He forced down whatever the food was, then closed his eyes and lay down on the ground, unbearably tired. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.
“Hola, Capitan.”
Mark opened his eyes to see Escobedo standing in front of him. He tensed, waiting for the usual kick.
Escobedo laughed. “I think I’ve had my fun, Capitan. I came to bring you news.”
Mark just stared at him, unblinking.
“Your friend, Miss Wilding, appears to have rattled some cages. It seems we no longer need Felix to discover the recipient of your messages.”
Faith. Oh, Jesus.
He’d been terrified of this since he overheard their conversation, but his mind was too fuzzy to think straight. If they’d really gotten their hands on her… He mustered all of his waning strength to keep from lashing out at El Serpiente. This was his fault. He never should have reached out to her but she was his only hope. What if they’d already gotten their hands on her?
As if he could read Halloran’s mind, Escobedo gave a nasty laugh. “No, unfortunately we do not have her yet but that’s a situation easily remedied. It won’t be much longer before we can bring her here to join you. Then we’ll see how long you protect the traitor who sold us out.”
I’d like to find the one who sold out my unit, you asshole. And even if I knew who you were looking for, I’d never tell you.
“Still the silent type. Very well. Enjoy your respite. Use the time to think. I would hate to see anything happen to the beautiful Miss Wilding.”
Then he was gone.
Mark lay there feeling sick. Faith! They could kill him if only he had a way to keep her safe. Somehow she’d found Rick. That was his only lifeline. Did Phoenix now have her in a safe place?
He closed his eyes again, trying once more to think who could have sold them out. And were they too, now after Faith.
* * * * *
“It took a lot of digging to get this information.”
Green was once again on the cell phone, having yet another unpleasant conversation.
“Well?” The voice was sharp. Impatient. “Do I have to wait all day for you to tell me?”
“You won’t like it,” Green warned.
“There is absolutely nothing about this situation that I like, so one more thing won’t matter. Let’s have it.”
Green sighed and picked up the pad he’d been making notes on. “The SUV at the Wilding woman’s house was rented by a company called Arizona, LLC.”
“Who the hell are they?” the voice demanded.
“Nobody.” Green sighed again. “They’re just a shell. We had to do a lot of tracing and a lot of hacking to get any farther.”
“Quit dancing around it. Get to the meat.”
“Okay, okay. At the top of the pyramid we found a company called Phoenix.”
There was dead silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. “Shit,” the man finally said.
“My sentiments exactly.”
“Okay, now we know how Joey Latrobe got taken from the hospital and who did it. Well, go and find them.”
Green laughed, a very unpleasant sound. “Easier said than done. The only one in their big fancy offices is a secretary who believe me, knows absolutely nothing about where they are.”
“And their homes?”
“Yeah, right. Even my hacker couldn’t find out where they live. Any of them. Talk about people who know how to go to ground.”
“If we can’t resolve this little problem,” the man said in a tight, clipped voice, “we may need to take lessons from them.”
Green gripped the telephone. “We’re doing our best.”
“Do better. Find them and find that damn woman. Smoke her out. Get rid of her. She asks too many questions and can get to too many people.”
Green slammed the phone onto the table in the hotel room and reached for the ever-present bottle of Tums.
“More bad news?” Brown asked.
“Is there another kind these days? He wants us to find the Wilding woman and locate the partners from Phoenix. He thinks where one is we’ll find the other.”
Brown nodded. “I’d say he’s probably right.”
“Then he wants us to get rid of them all.”
Brown’s face paled and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehand. “That’s a joke, right?”
“I wish.” Green popped two Tums in his mouth.
“Listen.” Brown squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “We’ve always had other people clean things up for us. I’m not about to put my head in a noose by killing someone.”
Green fixed him with a hard stare. “Yeah? Let me point something out to you. Whether we do it ourselves or hire it done, the law will see us just as guilty, so forget about being so squeamish.”
“I just—”
“And if we don’t take care of this, we’ll be going to prison. You want to spend the rest of your life with some three hundred pound gorilla who thinks you’re his girlfriend?”
Brown paled at the implications.
Green stared at nothing for a moment. Then a phrase from his conversation tickled his brain. Smoke her out. He picked up the phone again, searched through the internal phone book and found the number he wanted.
“Are you available?” he asked the man who answered. “Good. I have a little job for you. And whatever you do, it must look like an accident. Downed electrical wire. Faulty wiring. Whatever you can come up with. Fine. Here are the details. Call me when it’s done.”
He looked up to find Brown staring at him.
“The man said to smoke her out. This ought to do it. Literally.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Be ready to call all your media contacts. We want lots of attention on the fire at the home of a famous author.”
“I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile,” Brown objected. “Won’t people think it’s suspicious when her house suddenly burns down?”
“That’s the least of it,” Green snapped. “The people we work for and the people they do business with would take great pleasure in skinning both of us alive if this thing falls apart.”
Brown got up and went to the minibar, pulled out a small bottle of bourbon and drank a large swallow straight. “How the hell did we get to this point, anyway?”
* * * * *
The flight had been a little bumpy but the landing at the private airport was smooth. Faith tried to pull herself together as Rick unbuckled his seat belt and motioned for her and Tia to do the same. The pilot came forward, opened the door and pushed it down to let the stairs unfold.
A gust of wind blew through the open doorway and Faith reached for her thin jacket, wondering if she should have brought something warmer.
Rick gave her a half-smile, as if reading her mind. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you warm clothes when we get to where we’re going.”
He urged her down the steps, Tia behind her and brought up the rear.
Faith pulled her jacket tight and looked around her. They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The airport, or whatever it was, consisted of a hangar with a large serif P painted on the side, a small building that looked like an office and a long runway. To their left stood an enormous black helicopter. Otherwise, nothing, except open space and a chilling wind.
She turned back to Rick, who was carrying her duffel. “Where are we?”
“Maine.”
“Maine?” she echoed stupidly. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I never kid. Come on. We have to hustle.” He began leading them toward the helicopter.
Faith stopped, refusing to move. “Please don’t tell me we’re going up in that thing.”
“Okay, I won’t tell you.” He took her arm and forced her to move again.
“Come on, Faith,” Tia said. “It will be an adventure.”
She gritted her teeth. “An adventure I could do without.”
“Would you rather be dead?” Rick asked
At that the panic began to grab her again and she started to walk rapidly.
“And let’s not forget the primary focus here—rescuing Mark Halloran.”
She stopped, suddenly still. “You’re convinced he’s still alive, then?”
Rick nodded. “Not only that, according to Dan we have a pretty good idea where the terrorists have taken him. The operation is being planned even as we speak. So, do you want to stay here all day and debate the method of transportation, or do you want in on this?”
Faith literally ran for the waiting helicopter, not even concerned at the awkwardness of her ascent into the cabin.
The pilot turned to Rick as soon as they were all settled. “Ready to go?”
Rick nodded. In seconds the air was split by the whine of the rotors, the huge bird began to vibrate slightly and then they were moving. Forward motion first, before they lifted straight up into the air.
Faith was sure she’d left her stomach on the ground. She swallowed as hard as she could, willing herself to avoid the humiliation of tossing her guts out in front of these men. She glanced at Tia in the seat next to her but the woman seemed unbothered by any of this.
Rick, seated beside the pilot, turned to check on her. “You ladies okay?”
Tia smiled and Faith nodded, afraid to open her mouth.
Rick grinned. “Good. We’re heading into a little heavy weather so be prepared.”
Mark. I have to keep thinking of Mark. I can stand anything if I can just get him home safely.
They’d been in the air about fifteen minutes when the bad weather hit. Rain slashed at the windshield and the wind buffeted the helicopter. The pilot didn’t seem deterred by it and Rick never flinched. Faith simply closed her eyes and prayed. She felt Tia reach over and take her hand and without opening her eyes she allowed herself a tiny smile.