To the Limit (Shadow Heroes Book 3)

by Virginia Kelly

  “Move!” Smith yelled.

  “But he’s—”

  “Stand up!” Smith ordered, aiming at her.

  Taking steady aim, Nick concentrated on Smith again, at the same time as he calculated which of the other men to shoot next. But Mary Beth stood and blocked his shot at Smith. No way to hit Smith without possibly hurting Mary Beth.

  Down the barrel of his gun, Nick saw the general walking toward them.

  Turning, Smith spoke, “Vargas, have one of your men check him.”

  “We need him alive,” the general said when he reached Mary Beth and her brother.

  “It doesn’t matter. With both of them dead, there’s nothing to find,” Smith replied.

  Mary Beth moved marginally, and spoke, “Mark said whatever you want will blow up in your face without him,” she said loudly.

  “She’s bluffing,” Smith argued. “When we couldn’t find Williams, his sister was important. It doesn’t matter now. It ends with them.”

  As she continued speaking, she turned away so that Nick strained to hear her words over the river behind him. He was only able to understand one word. Doctor.

  Carefully, he picked his targets. If Mary Beth would move, he’d have only seconds to take out Smith, Vargas and the soldiers.

  Elliot Smith pulled his rifle tighter against his shoulder. Nick beat back the automatic reflex to jump up and confront him. The bastard was going to shoot Williams and there was nothing Nick could do without hurting Mary Beth.

  A shot rang out and Smith fell. Mary Beth squatted immediately, then leaned over her brother.

  “General.” A voice came from the side of one of the buildings. Francisco Iglesias, the Ranger captain Carlos had said had been put in charge by the general who’d replaced Vargas, held a rifle, smoke coming from the barrel. Behind him stood a contingent of seven Rangers, all with rifles raised. Had Iglesias shot Smith on orders? Or had Iglesias remained loyal to Vargas?

  “Gracias, Francisco,” the general said. He grabbed Mary Beth’s arm and pulled her away from her brother. “Have your men move Smith. Bring Mr. Williams back inside.”

  Nick waited, one second, two, blood roaring through his body, searching for an opportunity. But the general held Mary Beth in a way that he couldn’t risk the shot.

  Iglesias nodded at his men and they all moved forward.

  “General,” Iglesias said as one of his men examined Mark. “My men will take over here. Your men should join the rest of mine at the bridge. Primero de Mayo has attacked the bridge.”

  Nick lowered his gun. He still couldn’t get a clear shot at the general. But he knew one thing. There had been no sign of Primero de Mayo. Iglesias was pulling the general’s men to a bridge that didn’t need defending.

  The game had just changed.

  ***

  “Miss Williams,” the man who’d introduced himself as Captain Francisco Iglesias said. “My man is a medic. He will see to your brother.”

  Mark lay on the floor in the room where he’d been held. A soldier was, indeed, working on him.

  “He needs a hospital,” Mary Beth said.

  “I will see that he gets to one,” General Vargas said entering the room. “But first, we will talk.”

  Mary Beth had to force herself to look away from Mark. “There’s nothing to talk about. My brother needs help.”

  “Now that you have a reason to work with me, I am sure we will reach a compromise.”

  She glanced at Mark again, but couldn’t see him because the medic blocked her view.

  “What do you want?”

  “First, I want to know where Nicholas is.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Miss Williams,” the general said. “Do not expect me to believe this.”

  “Believe what you want.”

  “Nicholas brought you here.”

  She stared into the general’s cold eyes. It made no difference where Nick was. He’d betrayed her and Mark. “He left. I don’t know where he is.”

  “He came into the valley?”

  “That was his plan.”

  “What else did he plan?” the general asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Miss Williams,” the general said with exaggerated patience.

  “His plan was to protect your son’s reputation.”

  “Ah, so he did come because of Daniel.”

  Nick had used her, and knowing it, she’d fallen in love with him. How rich was that? Now she and Mark were alone, at the mercy of this man.

  “How is Elliot Smith?”

  The general smiled. “Smith is dead, thanks to my captain. Your dependency on the American embassy is a mistake. There is no one to help you but me.”

  “Do you expect me to believe you will after what you’ve done to Mark?”

  “I can see to it that your brother gets medical attention in exchange for what I want.”

  “Mark’s unconscious. He can’t tell you anything.”

  “Perhaps you know more than you think you know, Miss Williams. Perhaps if we discuss this further—”

  “¡Capitán!” a voice from the front called.

  “¿Qué pasa?” Iglesias shouted back.

  When no answer came, the general turned his attention away from Mary Beth. “Francisco, go see what is wrong,” he said to the Ranger captain.

  The captain left the room.

  “How is he?” the general asked the medic in Spanish.

  “He needs to go to a hospital. His wounds are too much for field treatment.”

  The general addressed her. “I will get him to a hospital, Miss Williams. Tell me where your brother hid what I need.”

  Mary Beth wanted to give him anything that would get Mark the help he needed. Her fingers itched to pull out the scraps of paper she had hidden in her bra. But she couldn’t trust the general. She remembered what Mark had said. “It’s in the city. In Ciudad San Mateo.”

  “¡General!” came the call from outside.

  “Leave him,” the general ordered the medic. “Go see what Captain Iglesias wants.”

  After the medic left, he continued. “Miss Williams, you have no option. Do not waste my time. Your brother will die without medical treatment. I will not give it to him until I get what I want.”

  She couldn’t trust this man, but time was running out. Mark needed help. “I can take you to what Mark hid.”

  “Where?”

  “Mark gets a doctor,” Mary Beth said, knowing she was gambling with Mark’s life, “then I’ll show you.”

  “Or I could kill him now,” the general said, aiming his revolver at Mark.

  ***

  Outside the compound, Nick listened to Captain Francisco Iglesias.

  “My orders from General Ruiz are to arrest General Vargas,” the captain said. “The Americans will not be pleased about Smith, but I could not allow him to kill Williams or his sister.” He nodded at something one of his men said, and continued. “We have learned that an expert counterfeiter named Demetrio Vazquez escaped from Vargas along with Juan Marcos, a man long-known as a gunrunner. Vazquez says he was kidnapped by Vargas to update a counterfeiting operation run by the general and Elliot Smith.”

  Nick quickly considered how that lined up with what he’d found at Daniel’s. A ledger with notes about guns, bought and sold, that General Vargas had written in. He handed it to the captain.

  Iglesias’ eyes widened as read the notes. “Does the general know you have this?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I was sent to make sure the investigation Vargas was charged with was being conducted correctly. When I learned of his involvement in the counterfeiting, everything changed.” Iglesias shook his head. “This proves that Vargas sold guns to Primero de Mayo. He is your uncle. Are you prepared for the consequences?”

  “Read the note beside the last date,” Nick said.

  Iglesias flipped a page, read, and looked up. “It’s just before failed raid on Primero de Mayo three years ago.”
He flipped another page, then back. “Vargas sold weapons to Primero de Mayo and, when he double-crossed them with his attempt to capture them, they took our men.” He shook his head. “His own son.”

  “Yes.”

  Iglesias’ face hardened, his lips thinned. “Vargas will not survive this evidence.”

  “No, he won’t,” Nick agreed.

  “The Americans, through their ambassador, have just informed us that there has been a mistake. This man Williams is an engineer. He has been wrongly identified as this Juan Marcos somehow involved with General Vargas and Elliot Smith. Marcos has gotten away by crossing the border into Monte Blanco. With no extradition treaty, we cannot get him back.”

  So the Americans were going to keep Williams’ false identity intact. Nick was glad he hadn’t turned over more of what he’d found.

  “With nothing left to lose,” Nick said, “Vargas will kill his hostages.”

  “It is out of my hands,” Iglesias replied. “The Americans are sending their Special Forces unit to rescue the woman and her unfortunate brother. I would disobey orders and cause more problems with the Americans if I intervene and it goes badly.”

  Vargas wouldn’t give up. Mary Beth could be killed.

  Iglesias looked toward the building where Vargas held Mary Beth and her brother, then back at Nick. “Williams is on the floor.”

  And there it was. Iglesias knew what Nick was capable of.

  “The woman and the general were standing when the medic left,” the captain continued. “It should be easy for you.”

  Nick took the M-16 Iglesias handed him. The assault rifle fit comfortably in his grip. Familiar. He walked around one of the parked Jeeps, braced his left elbow on the hood and aimed through the window.

  The general’s back was to him. So easy. But Mary Beth stood a few feet away, in front of him. The shot would go straight through Vargas and kill her.

  If she would move…

  “I will leave you to your job,” Iglesias said.

  His job. He’d been good. Excellent. Better than the man he could see down the sights of the M-16. They’d often been compared. He knew exactly what he could still do, despite not having used the skill in years.

  It was second nature, in his blood.

  ***

  “If you kill Mark, you’ll never know if you have everything you want.” Mary Beth was sure her voice trembled. She only hoped she could bluff the general well enough that Mark would get the help he needed.

  “I can make you talk, Miss Williams.”

  The door opened. Vargas’ attention shifted instantly.

  “I’m sure you can.” Nick’s voice surprised her.

  He stood there, arms spread wide.

  “Ah,” the general said, his revolver now aimed at Nick. “You have come as I knew you would. What terms do you have to offer?”

  She’d believed that Nick and the general were enemies. Despite the gun aimed at him, had Nick come to help him?

  “Your life,” Nick said.

  The cold detachment of his words made Mary Beth flinch. She didn’t understand. Did he intend to kill General Vargas? She’d seen what Nick could do. His gun was still in his shoulder holster, but he could pull it out and kill the general.

  Vargas laughed. “You would not do this.”

  “I would,” Nick replied.

  Vargas’ expression changed from one of confidence to grudging admiration. “I can kill you and take her with me.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

  “No!” Mary Beth yelled, lunging toward the gun. She managed to hit the general’s wrist, but didn’t knock the gun from his hand.

  He recovered instantly, grabbed her arm and pulled her in front of himself, his revolver aimed at Nick. Just as Nick’s gun was now aimed at them.

  “Do not be so foolish, Nicolás. You know you cannot shoot me before I kill you, then her.”

  “Let her go.” Nick slowly raised his arms, the drawn gun in his right hand.

  “She is brave,” Vargas said, holding her back. “And you care for her. She is what I have to negotiate with. What do you have?”

  “The ledger.”

  Mark’s harsh uneven breathing filled the sudden silence in the room. Then, from outside came the sound of several vehicles driving up.

  “It’s over,” Nick added. “You cannot get away.”

  “My men?” the general asked.

  “Iglesias has them. He knows you sold arms to Primero de Mayo. He knows about the counterfeiting. Don’t expect help from him. From anyone.”

  “Ruiz did this.”

  “Yes,” Nick replied. “You should have kept your enemy closer.”

  The general threw a quick glance around the room, as if searching for an exit.

  “There’s no escape. You have to make a choice.”

  “I always said you were good, Nicolás. Always.” He sounded remarkably friendly.

  “Don’t flatter me.”

  “Ah, it is not flattery. It is the truth. I know who you are, what you are, Nicolás. I know you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “You are the other side of me,” the general declared.

  Tension crackled in the room. Mary Beth didn’t understand, but she fully expected one of them to begin shooting.

  “Walk out now. Iglesias will arrest you.”

  “The charges?”

  “Treason.” The word resonated around them.

  “I am no traitor.”

  “You are worse,” Nick said with conviction.

  The general did not reply.

  “Show some sense of honor,” Nick said. “Let her go. You and I. We can settle this.”

  “Ah, this woman. She is the one, no, Nicolás? The one you will kill for.”

  He already had. The thought struck Mary Beth as beyond uncivilized in this uncivilized place.

  “Let her go.”

  The two men looked at each other. A second, maybe two passed in the charged silence.

  “No, Nicolás, I will not.”

  It happened so quickly, she didn’t have time to react. The general pulled her closer and held something hard and cold against her neck. His gun.

  Over her own hitched breathing, Mary Beth heard the general say, “Now you have to make a choice.”

  ***

  Nick’s blood ran cold. There had been an instant when he could have taken a shot and killed Vargas. He knew he was that good. But he’d paused, afraid that in the confusion Mary Beth would be hurt. Afraid of the man he would be if he did it. That fear would cost her life.

  “You make few mistakes, Nicolás. Why did you not shoot through the window? For you, it would have been very easy. I hope it was not sentimentality that stopped you.” He turned his head, as if questioning. “Or perhaps you doubted your skills? Does your Miss Williams know we are often compared, you and I?”

  Nick pulled his negotiator’s training to mind to keep from showing any emotion.

  “Shame, jail—they are not acceptable to me,” Vargas continued. “You should know this.”

  “Death is?”

  “I need a Jeep,” the general said.

  “Iglesias will not negotiate.”

  “I am not negotiating with him. I will go or this woman will die.”

  “Then you will die.”

  “So be it.” Vargas pulled Mary Beth tighter against himself, the barrel of the gun pressed into her jugular.

  Nick needed an opening, a break. Something that would allow him to save her. He could take the shot, hope that the general’s reaction would be to turn the gun away from Mary Beth in an automatic defensive move. But Vargas couldn’t be counted on to react the way any other man would. She could die unless he did something.

  “I’ll talk to Iglesias.”

  “Talk quickly, Nicolás. Five minutes. No more,” Vargas said. “Put your gun away now.”

  If only he could risk Mary Beth, but that was untenable. He holstered his gun.

  “Place yo
ur hands on the top of your head before you turn around.”

  Nick walked out, hands on his head. His only chance now lay with Iglesias.

  Outside, shading his eyes against the bright sunlight reflected off one of several Jeeps, he said, “Have your men move back.”

  “I cannot make such an order,” Iglesias replied.

  Because he was under orders from another man who sought power. General Ernesto Ruiz. Iglesias might have a conscience, but orders were orders.

  Nick walked toward him. “The woman’s life is at stake. Her brother’s, too. The Americans will not arrive in time.”

  Iglesias seemed to consider what Nick said. He looked around at the Rangers surrounding the compound, then back at Nick. “What does he want?”

  “A Jeep.”

  “Impossible. I cannot allow that.”

  It was happening again. The offer, the counteroffer, the refusal. Only this time it wasn’t Daniel who would die.

  He couldn’t let this happen. Wouldn’t. Vargas would come out. And when he did, the Rangers would kill him. And kill Mary Beth because Vargas would not let her go.

  That left Nick with only one option. To do what he should have done minutes earlier, what his fear of hitting Mary Beth, or his conscience, or both had prevented. Antonio Vargas had stopped him from going back in for Daniel three years ago by launching a disastrous assault. This time Nick would go back and do what had to be done. And this time, he wouldn’t fail.

  Surprised at how calm he felt, he turned to walk back inside.

  “Nicholas,” Iglesias said.

  Nick turned back.

  Iglesias tossed a 9mm Beretta toward him. “It is always better to have two weapons.”

  Moving the Glock to the back waistband of his jeans, Nick pulled his shirt out enough to cover it. The weight of the Beretta in the holster reassured him.

  But the Glock was his weapon.

  ***

  Perspiration rolled down Mary Beth’s back. Someone must have turned off the power. The room was hot and stuffy. The general’s body heat made her hotter, but she could almost swear he wasn’t sweating. He simply waited. She couldn’t think straight.

  Mark’s increasingly labored breathing filled the silence of the room. He was getting worse. If he didn’t get the help he needed soon, it would be too late.

  “I’m coming in,” Nick shouted from the front. The door opened and he came in, calm and businesslike, his gun in the holster beneath his arm. He’d probably done this sort of thing a hundred times.