by Tarah Scott
“Ten million—we only found two.”
Perez flashed brilliant white teeth. “He will not receive the other eight.”
Anger flushed through her. “I don’t give a damn how much blood money you paid. You killed them, you bastard. I—” she broke off at realizing what she was about to reveal. “Your men slaughtered them.”
“Self-defense,” he replied. “Your men would have done the same if my men had attacked them.” Jesse started to reply, but he cut her off. “Think, Miss Evans, you’re missing the big picture.”
Despite the blood that roared through her ears something clicked in her mind. He’d said national security. Selling out Green Team was a security breach, but wouldn’t be considered national security. A submarine that could enter U.S. waters without detection… The big picture snapped into focus.
Jesse kept her voice level as she said, “We both know more Cartel subs get through our net than those we catch, but the sub you’re building is reported to be far more sophisticated than even the supersub we snagged last year. Your sub will need help penetrating the sonar surveillance network strung across the Caribbean. You might make it past the sonar net by shadowing freighters along shipping routes, but unlike the small tin cans your predecessors used, you can’t hope to go unnoticed by our Alpha-class subs. A U.S hunter-killer subs will hone in on your equipment in ten minutes flat—and that’s if the Navy or Coast Guard don’t find you first.” A smile of admiration spread across his face as she ended, “You need Lanton to hand over our sub locations and patrol routes.”
Warmth swept through her. Robert Lanton hadn’t set her up simply as an agent who’d sold out her team. She was a highly skilled and very dangerous operative guilty of treason.
Perez lifted his drink in a toast. “As I said, national security.” He took a sip and set the glass back on the table.
“Ten million dollars is a great deal of money. Lanton wouldn’t give up future payments of that size.”
“He was…torn, but ultimately realized I would never release him from my employ.” Perez shrugged. “He made the mistake of thinking he could take my money then dispose of me.”
“Why tell me all this?” Jesse waved her hand, indicating her surroundings. “Like you said, you can kill me and no one would know the difference.”
“Robert Lanton counted on you finding me, and one of us killing the other. It didn’t matter which. The one left standing would be dead by his assassin’s hand.”
She opened her mouth to rebut, but the logic hit hard. All she’d had to do was her job in order to set Lanton’s plan into motion. This explained why she’d escaped Colombia. Green Leader wanted her alive so she could kill Perez. Then, as Perez said, if she failed, another assassin would finish the job. Then kill her. Jesse felt as if a knife had pierced her heart.
Cole.
Chapter Forty-Three
Jesse now understood why Perez hadn’t killed Cole in the village. Cole was the only witness to the fact Green Leader was selling national secrets to the most notorious Colombian drug lord of their time. Perez would have told Cole everything he told her. Yet Cole hadn’t admitted to the meeting because he feared she would deduce that he knew Lanton was guilty. Why hide that fact? Why not use to convince her he was on her side?
Too damn many questions. No real answers.
“What do you want?” Jesse demanded of Perez.
“The same thing you do.”
Who was wagging the dog now? Lanton set up Perez, and now Perez had the only two people who could put Green Leader behind bars.
“How about that? Lanton thought I could get you for him, and you think I can get him for you. Funny how I became so popular all of a sudden.”
“I offer you what you want.”
“Why should I make a deal with you?”
“Because we want the same thing. We can work together.”
“You don’t expect me to accept a position in your organization.”
Perez laughed. “No. This is not the movies. I simply propose a deal for our mutual benefit, not a relationship.”
“And what might that be?”
“Mr. Smith is in league with our common enemy. We must take his power, then I will give you proof Robert Lanton is on my payroll. You clear your name and I have made an example of him.”
“What guarantee do you have I won’t come back for you?”
Perez flashed another smile. “You won’t.”
The two words conveyed a world of innuendo: You are not the assassin that Cole Smith is.
Jesse swallowed against the lump in her throat. “If I find out you lied about Maria Hamilton, I’ll be back and, this time, you won’t see me coming.”
“Then I have nothing to worry about.”
Only a lifetime of karma to pay back for all the other children’s lives you’ve ruined.
Jesse nodded gave a single nod of acknowledgement.
Perez’s eyes glittered. “I will now show you how to take Lanton’s power. Together, we must take our revenge.”
A chill settled over her. “Revenge?”
Chapter Forty-Four
Twenty minutes later, Jesse stopped with Perez outside the building sitting beside the one which contained her cell. She didn’t like the direction their meeting had taken. She’d kept quiet in the jeep, hoping—praying—Perez didn’t have in mind what she thought he did, but now there wasn’t much guesswork left. She cast a furtive glance at the bulge in his waistband. God, how she itched to get her hands on that semi-automatic.
“If we are going to do this, I need a weapon.” she said as one of the two guards that had accompanied them reached for the door handle.
Perez glanced at her and frowned. “We agreed—”
“We agreed I would take care of Lanton,” Jesse cut in.
Perez looked confused, and the apprehension that lay like lead in her stomach metamorphosed into fear.
“If we are to defeat Robert Lanton, we must kill his partner,” he said.
“Lanton doesn’t have partners,” she replied. “Cole is nothing but a pawn.”
“Surely, you understood he must die.”
“Yes, but—”
“Cole Smith is very powerful,” Perez insisted. “We cannot allow Robert Lanton to claim his power.”
“Claim his power?”
Pride filled Perez’s eyes. “I was fifteen when I claimed the power of my first kill. I slit his throat and watched the horror in his eyes as he slipped into oblivion. One of us must claim Smith’s power.”
Jesse resisted the urge to shrink back. She had known men who drew courage and strength from their kills. For them, killing was more than an act of violence. It was life itself. She forced a noncommittal nod, and Perez motioned the guard to open the door. She stepped inside with Perez behind her. The stink hit her again and her belly roiled.
“Stay here,” he ordered one guard.
Jesse kept her gaze straight ahead again. Perez obviously didn’t share this ritual with his men. Chances were, the guard that accompanied them would meet an unfortunate accident before he had a chance to tell his compadres the boss was a nut. Perez glanced at her.
Her heart pounded harder. Careful. Eyes straight ahead, no emotion. You don’t give a damn about anyone in this building. Perez’s intended victim, the only survivor of a massacre she should have prevented, wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. He was an assassin, and intended to kill her, after ensuring the one man who could hurt Lanton was dead.
They walked down a hallway like the one in the building where she’d been held captive. Eight cells down, they halted before a steel door. She’d been in situations like this before. She’d taken life to save her own. This was no different.
Yeah, and Superman will show up any minute to save the day.
“Open the door,” Perez ordered.
Keys jangled as the guard produced a chain from his pocket and selected a key. He inserted it into the lock, then swung the door wide before retreating a step.
Cole lay on a mattress in the right hand corner of the cell, an arm thrown across his eyes. Jesse’s gaze jerked to his chest. Relief flooded her at sight of the rise and fall of his chest before she realized the foolishness of her response. Of course he would be alive.
Perez pulled the Glock from his waistband, chambered one round, then ejected the clip. He extended it toward Jesse, handle first. “You must put one bullet in the head so the heart continues to beat.”
Cole jerked upright. Jesse started, and the guard yanked his CR-21 from his shoulder and pointed it at Cole.
“Jess?” Cole whispered.
Jesse bit back a gasp. One eye was swollen twice its size and his nose looked like it had been broken—again. A yellow bruise covered the lower half of his left jaw.
“Jesus,” she murmured.
Cole shifted as though to stand, then stopped when the guard took a menacing step forward. Cole looked at her. “What’s going on, Jess?”
Her heart leaped into her throat. The plaintive note in his voice sounded genuinely innocent. She remembered thinking the same thing when Lancelot was killed, and her stomach turned.
“Miss Evans,” Perez persisted.
Jesse looked at him, then registered the gun he still held out to her. She jerked her attention back to Cole. His brow was drawn down in confusion. She felt the butt of the gun, realized Perez was forcing it into her hand, and curled her fingers around the hard metal. Cole’s confused expression melted into sadness. Jesse felt as if two strong hands were squeezing the life from her heart.
“I know you’re doing your best, Jess,” he said.
Her mind spun at the thought Cole was giving her permission to pull the trigger. Save herself, do whatever she had to do to get out. He couldn’t be saved, but maybe she could—maybe Amanda could.
She gave her head a hard shake. Next thing she knew, she’d be telling fortunes. But the biting mockery gave way to the memory of Cole in the alley, the look on his face when Lancelot died, his gentle touch when he’d tended her leg, and the fact he never swore in front of her—except when he called his jailers bastards.
Jesse looked at him. He leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on her without resentment. She looked at the Glock. Earlier, she had wished she could get her hands on the weapon. She lifted the gun. Cole didn’t close his eyes. Her heart constricted another fraction.
“No turning back now,” she murmured.
Jesse spun on the guard, batted aside his CR-21, and backhanded him with the Glock, cutting off a scream. His head snapped back and he collapsed to the floor.
“Santa madre de dios!” Perez cried.
“Fucking, right,” Jesse muttered, and lunged toward him.
He backed away as she pivoted, leg in the air, and slammed her booted foot hard across his jaw. His body spun and crashed against the wall. He stared eyes unfocused.
“Watch out!” Cole shouted.
Jesse whirled. The guard rose off his back, his arm cocked, ready to throw the eight-inch knife he grasped. Jesse jerked left. The knife whizzed past her face and struck something with a sickening whack. She leaped onto him with a crashing elbow-strike to the face. Bones crunched.
She turned, then froze at sight of Perez pulling the knife from his neck. Blood spurted onto his white suit coat as he stared at her, eyes wide. Jesse’s stomach turned. The hatred in his eyes said this time it was her stealing his power. He slid down the wall and the knife rolled from his limp hand onto the concrete. Blood bubbled out his mouth as he tried to speak.
“Jess!” Cole cried.
She whirled.
Cole stood over the guard’s prone body with the CR-21 pointed at Perez. “Move,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“Cole!” she cried in a loud whisper. “No.”
Cole yanked his gaze onto her face. “I’m going to finish him.”
Her heart raced like a drunken racehorse. Was this where Cole would fill Perez, then turn the CR-21 on her and finish the job Lanton had paid him to do?
“He’s already dead,” she said. “The knife hit a carotid artery.”
Cole looked blankly at her. “He killed my—our—team.”
Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “No gunfire, or we’ll never get out of here.” Jesse laid a hand on the gun barrel and gently eased it down.
A gurgle sounded behind her, and she tore her gaze from Cole’s bloodshot eyes and turned. Perez’s eyes had fogged over in a yellowish sheen even though blood still drizzled from his neck with each beat of the heart that refused to give up.
A life to save her own.
No matter how many times she saw death, her heart still twisted.
“How do we get out of here?” Cole demanded.
Jesse nearly jumped out of her skin. “What?”
“How do we get out of here?”
She wanted to cry. “As far as I know, that—” she pointed to the door they’d entered, “—is it.”
Cole looked in the direction of the door, and Jesse noticed the index and middle fingers of his left hand were swollen.
“Fingers broken?” she asked evenly, despite the rush of emotion that rolled over her.
He glanced at them as if only just noticing. “Yeah.”
“You look like hell,” she said, more from a need to find out how bad his injuries were than giving a damn about his looks.
Surprise flashed across his swollen features and he grinned. “You look great.” He grabbed her in a hug that made her wish time could stop.
Chapter Forty-Five
Jesse and Cole got the camouflage pants off the guard and onto Cole. Perez’s suit coat followed. Despite the fact Cole would look out of place wearing only the coat, both men’s shirts were too blood soaked to do anything but attract insects and predators. The guard’s boots were too small, and Cole had to settle for Perez’s deck shoes.
Jesse retrieved the Glock’s clip from Perez’s pocket, verified it was fully loaded minus one round, and slid it home inside the handle. She gave Cole a once over. He still looked like hell.
“You going to be all right?”
“Never better,” he replied, and she thought he meant it. “What’s out there?”
“Two towers, one to the east,” she pointed to the left corner of the building near the door, “one to the west.” She pointed to the right corner. “Two guards are outside.”
“I bet each one of them has one of these.” He raised the CR-21.
“You got it.”
“We need a diversion.” Cole bent to grab the knife in Perez's hand.
Jesse tightened her grip on the Glock, then relaxed when he wiped the blade on Perez’s pant-leg and stuffed it in his waistband. He crossed to the guard who had accompanied them, bent, and searched his pockets. A jingle of metal, Cole’s fingers disappeared into a pocket, and reappeared with keys.
“Come on.” He straightened and started toward the door.
Jesse followed. Four paces and she bumped into him when he stopped in front of the second cell down from his. He had to try four keys before finding the right one. He handed her the CR-21. She stuffed the Glock in her waistband at the small of her back. Cole swung open the solid cell door, revealing a man about fifty years old huddled in the far corner. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in years, his clothes were near tatters, and his hair and beard resembled something that had climbed out of the black lagoon.
“My God,” she whispered. “I’d forgotten about these poor souls.”
Cole stepped into the cell. “Vamanoos, amigo.”
The man stared up at him, eyes wide like a hunted animal. Cole extended a hand. The man stared for another instant, then something flickered in his eyes and he swung a hand into Cole’s. Cole pulled him to his feet. The old man stumbled, then caught himself, and stepped from the cell probably for the first time since he'd been imprisoned there.
“Keep him covered.” Cole gave the man a nudge down the hall, away from the front door. “We’ll herd them all to
the far end, then we all make a break for it.”
“They don’t stand a chance. Perez’s men will mow them down.”
“Jess, they’re worse than dead if we leave them here.”
She scanned the remaining cells. They had solid doors with only a small window at the top. What crimes had these men committed to warrant such retribution? She shuddered. If Perez hadn’t brought her here, she might have left Cole to languish in this God forsaken hole. That would have been far worse than his fate in the village. For the first time in her life, she wanted to drop off the face of the earth.
Cole stopped at the next cell. He was trying the fourth key as Jesse cast a glance at the front door. “How long do you think they’ll stay out there?”
“I don’t know,” Cole replied as the fifth key clicked the lock open. He looked at her. “How did you get him to bring you here?”
Her pulse skipped a beat. “That’s a long story.”
Cole pulled a young man from the cell. He looked forty, but Jesse guessed him to be in his twenties. Cole nodded for him to join the other man down the hall toward the old man, and moved to the next cell.
“Are all the cells filled?” she asked.
He paused. “Good question.” He looked through the window into the cell. “This one’s empty.” Cole hurried to the next one and looked through the window. “This one, too.”
The next cell held a prisoner and, while Cole searched for the right key, Jesse herded the prisoners back while inspecting the remaining cells. Two cells down from Cole, she came face to face with a man who stared though the little window like a wide-eyed animal. She stumbled back a step, but kept going until she’d inspected the remaining five cells.
“Two more,” she said.
“Good,” Cole replied
Two minutes later, they had unlocked the last cell and five prisoners huddled against the far wall.
Jesse looked at Cole. “Now what?”
He hurried to the front door and grasped the handle, then motioned for Jesse to approach. She hurried past him, plastered herself against the left wall, and locked gazes with him.
He gave a short nod. “We open this door with guns blazing.”
