Enemy Mine

by Lindsay McKenna

  Before lifting off, he pulled a pair of earphones off a hook above him and handed them to the woman. He liked her flawless turquoise eyes framed with thick blond lashes. In his estimation, the black ring around her irises gave her a look more of a hunter than a nanny. That and those callused knuckles. This was no city chick, that was for sure. Yet she was elegant in her trim gray suit and pale pink blouse. The white pearl earrings and necklace she wore emphasized her femininity.

  “Put these on,” he yelled over the roar of the rotor. She nodded, took them and smoothly settled them over her head, positioning the microphone close to her full lips.

  Mac hesitated fractionally. Her movements were unexpected. Out of place, maybe. She handled the earphones and mike as if she’d put a set on a thousand times before. Was she ex-military, maybe? That would fit. He was burning to ask her, but they didn’t have much time and he damn well wanted her to survive the tests. One way or another, Tiki was getting this provocative and interesting new nanny, so he wouldn’t have to shadow Sophie so much. He had had so little time to himself that he was suffering from a lack of sleep. And to be a spy and stay on top of the game, sleep was essential. Still, little Sophie deserved his protection—as much as he could give her under these terrible circumstances.

  CHAPTER SIX

  KATHY REMINDED HERSELF that Mac Coulter was in bed with a drug dealer. He was being paid by Garcia, and she bet he was running drugs for him. As the bird lifted off and broke connection with the earth, she grudgingly admitted Coulter had a nice touch with the helicopter. His actions were competent and smooth. As she glanced down, she saw his muscles move beneath the dark hair covering his left arm. Why was she so attracted to him? Frowning, Kathy looked out the window. He was a stranger. A drug runner. No matter how good-looking he was, she could not get involved with him.

  Gripping her hands in her lap, Kathy forced herself to refrain from shifting into helo pilot mode. She had to remember that she didn’t know how to fly one. God, it was tough to hold herself back! Flying was like breathing for her. The sky was where she found peace from the world below.

  As the aircraft moved forward down the runway, Kathy gazed at the surrounding mountains, bare and brown in the distance. Coulter kept the helo just below the somber blanket of clouds along the seacoast, she noticed. This bird did not have the advanced avionics equipment to fly through such stuff and not hit a mountain in the process.

  As they left Lima behind, she saw the mighty blue-and-white Andes on the distant horizon. Below her, the land stretched, brown, undulating and barren.

  Mac glanced over at the woman. Her profile tugged at him. She had flawless skin, a broad brow, soft full lips and a stubborn-looking nose. Attractive but not a raving beauty. Mac smiled to himself. Going undercover, he’d left his personal life behind. Not that there’d been much of one before that. No, just a divorce two years ago and raw heartbreak. Frowning, he forced himself to concentrate on the present.

  “You American?” he asked. He absorbed the shuddering vibrations of the helo. It felt good to be flying again! Comforting. The sky was always his place of refuge and healing. Mac removed his aviator glasses to take a really good look at her.

  “Er, no, I’m Canadian. From Calgary.”

  “Hmm, you sound American.”

  Kathy cringed inwardly. “My mother was American, my father Canadian. I have dual citizenship.” Would he buy it? She saw curiosity burning in his sharply intelligent gray eyes as he turned and gave her a half smile.

  “I see….”

  Squirming beneath his scrutiny, Kathy remained silent. Those big gray eyes of his with their huge black pupils made her feel as if he had X-ray vision. Plus Coulter was an easy man to look at. Dammit, her body was responding like a yo-yo to every glance he gave her, to the deep, personal tone of his voice, and it drove her crazy. With his deeply suntanned, square face, thick black brows and full mouth, he could have been someone she knew back home, and she didn’t feel at all threatened by him. Still, the pistol strapped to his right thigh reminded her that he was a drug dealer, pure and simple. No matter how she responded to him, he was a bad guy and in cahoots with Garcia, her enemy.

  “You were in the military?” Mac asked, sliding his sunglasses back on. He guided the helicopter to an ever higher altitude.

  Her stomach clenched. Kathy pursed her mouth. She had to play along. It would do no good to lie. She’d lied enough already to Señora Olivares in Lima. “Does it show?”

  Shrugging, Mac said, “The way you handled the earphones and mike.”

  “Oh.” Damn! Her heart thudded once. The cloud cover was beginning to break up a bit, the farther east they flew. Gulping, Kathy said, “I was in the CAF for a while. I was in security.”

  That made a lot of sense. “You musta flown in some planes then?” Mac smiled over at her. Yes, he definitely liked what he saw. There was a challenging look in her eyes and the way she set her jaw. And yet Mac felt panic deep inside him. Kathy Lincoln would be in danger. Real danger. And very shortly.

  “Uh, sometimes, yes.”

  “Canadian MP?”

  “Something like that, yes.”

  “I can see why the patrón would be interested in you as a nanny for Tiki, his little girl.”

  “Oh?” Glancing to her right, Kathy studied his rugged profile. She tore her gaze away and decided Mac Coulter was too addictive. Up ahead, tentative streaks of weak sunlight were creeping through the dense clouds.

  “He’d mentioned he wanted to hire someone to be both bodyguard and nanny.”

  “I see.” That was what Señora Olivares had told her. “You must know the patrón pretty well?” Kathy asked.

  “Carlos Garcia. I’m the family pilot. When they need to be shuttled to and from his villas here in Peru, I do the flying.”

  “And you’re an American?” Why would someone who looked as nice and clean-cut as Coulter become a drug dealer? Kathy just couldn’t understand it. Yet he was. And it sounded as though Coulter was very close to the drug lord’s family. Elation soared through her, because with Coulter, she’d hit an unexpected gold mine of information.

  “Yes, I am. Born in Idaho.” Well, that was his cover story. Mac found himself wishing he didn’t have to lie to her, but he had no choice.

  “What led you to become a private pilot down here?”

  He grinned. The chopper’s controls—the cyclic and collective—felt good in his hands. It was a good thing that his helo was not bugged as so many other places were around Garcia’s estate. “What led you to become employed as a nanny down here?”

  Kathy managed a tight smile. He wasn’t going to answer her question. “I love to travel.” Well, that, at least, wasn’t a lie.

  “If you get hired by the patrón, you’ll certainly get your fair share of that.”

  Looking down at her fingers, Kathy stated, “Señora Olivares back in Lima said something about tests. Do you know anything about them? What they are? She didn’t say.”

  Mac frowned and looked around the empty sky. Ahead, the dark brown foothills began to rise from the flat coastal plain, and he started their climb to thirteen thousand feet, which would take them over Cuzco, once the center of the Incan Empire. “She didn’t?”

  “No. I’m a little worried, to tell you the truth. I really want this job, and I’d like to know what I’m facing so I can pass the tests.”

  Mac wanted her to know, too. “Listen, I’m going to level with you, Ms. Lincoln. And the deal is you can’t tell anyone what I’m going to share with you. Okay?” Mac looked at her for a long, pregnant moment to emphasize his words. She had such huge, beautiful blue eyes. He could drown in them, but told himself to not go there.

  “Sure. That’s a promise.” Kathy forced a little laugh. “I can use all the help I can get.”

  Nodding, Mac said, “What I’m going to tell you is going to sound like something out of a science fiction book, but you have to believe me and know it’s for real.”

  Heart pounding bri
efly, Kathy wondered what the hell he was talking about. “I’m all ears.”

  “Carlos Garcia doesn’t want just a nanny. He wants a bodyguard, first and foremost. He’s very sensitive about his wife and daughter being kidnapped. I think you know that kidnapping is a way of life here in South America?” Mac turned again to glance at her. If he expected Ms. Lincoln to look pale, he was disappointed. Seeing the set of her mouth, Mac realized she wasn’t quite the cream puff he’d first thought. Further, her eyes had narrowed, and damned if she didn’t remind him of a hawk hunting its prey. Again, her reaction was unexpected.

  “Yes, that’s what Señora Olivares told me. She seemed very pleased I had a military background.”

  “No kidding. Patrón Garcia needs to have his family well protected. And toward that end, he wants to make sure that whomever he hires is going to be able to make the grade should something happen. Your military background will be a plus.” For many reasons.

  Kathy wanted to ask what had happened to the last nanny, but decided it wasn’t the time or place. “I feel I can be a bodyguard, no problem.”

  “Well, there’s more to this than you realize,” Mac said, not wanting to tell her the truth and send her screaming in the other direction.

  “What don’t I realize, Mr. Coulter?”

  “The tests that Patrón Garcia will put you through. You have to be prepared ahead of time or you’ll probably never make it out alive.” He glanced at her to make sure she heard him correctly. Mac saw her face finally drain of color and her lovely lips part. She got the message.

  “What are you talking about?” She stared at Coulter, who gave her a very grim look.

  “When I land at his villa near Agua Caliente, the patrón is going to put you through three physical tests. In the first you’ll have to demonstrate your ability to fend off an attacker. Garcia will put you in his recreational hall, the gym where he works out. You will have to deal with three of his soldiers attacking you all at once. If you disarm and disable them, then you go for test number two.” Searching her taut face, he saw her eyes glint. “You’ve got calluses on your knuckles. I’m assuming you do karate?”

  “I’m a black belt.”

  She said it with a steely coolness that made Mac smile inwardly. Ms. Lincoln certainly was no easy mark, even if she looked it, dressed in that prim suit of hers. “Good, because when these guys rush you, pull out all the stops. Don’t run, don’t scream, stand your ground and do some major damage to them before they do it to you. Patrón Garcia will be there, watching you every second, from a window you can’t see through. If you don’t disable those men, you’ve lost your chance for employment. And don’t be nice.” Mac glanced at her. “Draw blood, because I can guarantee you the three guys intend to do just that. Draw your blood.”

  Flexing her hands, Kathy muttered, “I can see why most nannies seeking employment with this guy don’t make the grade.”

  Mac nodded. “Just remember that this man knows his family can be kidnapped, held for ransom or murdered. He loves them with his life and he wants to make sure their new nanny and bodyguard will be able to prevent that. Or at least make a difference should such an occasion arise.”

  “I got it,” Kathy said, her mind spinning. She hadn’t expected this at all. Her black belt in karate had always been for fun, not to kill, though she had been trained to take someone down. All her exercises with her Japanese master had been to use karate as a defense and to delve into the deep spiritual nature of the art, which appealed to her strongly. Now she was going to have to use it on three goons who were going to try and incapacitate her.

  “It would be nice if he sent only one man against me.”

  Mac shook his head, and his gaze ranged across the control panel. The clouds were breaking up more as they climbed up over the dry hills to five thousand feet. Ahead he could see the peerless Andes, dark blue giants topped with a white frosting of snow. “You have to put yourself into his head,” he told her. “If someone is going to kidnap his little girl, they’ll send more than one man to do the job. They always work in teams of two or three. That’s why he’s going to throw three big soldiers at you. And these guys are mercenaries hired from around the world. The best in their business, Ms. Lincoln. Patrón Garcia wants complete assurance you can handle such an attack.”

  “Okay. If I manage to take them all out, what’s the next test?”

  “The firing range. He’ll want to know you can handle an assortment of weapons. His armorer will take you there and you’ll have to demonstrate your knowledge of different pistols and rifles. You’ll be asked to shoot at close range, as well as two, three, four hundred yards.”

  “That sounds easy compared to the first test,” Kathy muttered.

  “Don’t get too cocky just yet. After the trial with pistols and rifles, you get to show them how good you are with a knife.”

  Eyebrows raised, Kathy said, “I’ve had knife training.”

  “Figured you did, but at least you’ll know going in what to expect. And the guy you have to fight is an expert.”

  “You mean he’s going to come after me to try and kill me?”

  “That’s the idea, Ms. Lincoln. I think you’re getting it.”

  Trying to tamp down her fear, Kathy swam in her own sweat. Never had she thought getting to Garcia was going to be this hard! Her assumption that being his child’s nanny would be easy had been a huge tactical error on her part. Of course, the only other way she could have come to him was as a pilot. And Kathy didn’t really think Garcia would swallow the story of an American woman running drugs for him. Glancing over at Mac, she decided that maybe she should have gone that route instead. Garcia trusted Coulter. Why not her? But then, macho South American men didn’t like strong women, so she probably wouldn’t have been able to get in that door, anyway. Better to be a nanny.

  “You still with me?” Mac demanded. She looked pale and overwhelmed.

  “Yes. You said there was a third test if I survive this knife fight. What’s it about?”

  “The worst and hardest of them all,” Mac warned. As he eased the helo up to seven thousand feet, the Andes looked more and more beautiful. Cuzco lay on a high plateau near twelve thousand feet in a bowl-like valley surrounded by naked brown mountains.

  “I can’t even begin to imagine what it would be.” And she couldn’t.

  “The patrón will have you flown fifty miles away from his villa. This is a survival test, Ms. Lincoln. He’ll give you nothing except a pair of good hiking boots and the clothes on your back. You’ll be dropped across the Urubamba River, which you’ll have to figure out how to cross, and then find your way back to the villa through the jungle.”

  “Do I get a compass?”

  “No.”

  “Water?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “A weapon?”

  “No.”

  She gave him a frustrated look. “What’s the point of this test?”

  “Simple. The patrón knows that if his villa is attacked by kidnappers, that the nanny must grab his daughter and head into the jungle. He has three hideouts, which he will reveal to you after you’ve passed the tests. You would take his child there for safekeeping. He figures that if they are attacked, you will only have time enough to grab Tiki and make a run for it. Under those circumstances, you wouldn’t have water, a weapon, a compass or anything else. He needs to be assured that you can get clear of the villa and head for one of these jungle strongholds, where he will come pick you up later, when the coast is clear.”

  “Good God…”

  Searching her face, Mac saw frustration and concern in her sharpened blue eyes. Her mouth was thin and set. “I told you this would sound like science fiction, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did,” Kathy admitted, rubbing her damp hands against her thighs.

  “You’ve had survival training, I assume?”

  “Yes. Desert and jungle.”

  “Good, because you’re going to need it.”

&nb
sp; “Right now, the easiest test looks like this little fifty-mile hike.”

  “Be careful,” Mac cautioned. Up ahead, he saw the clouds finally break and bright shafts of sunshine pour down through the holes. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  Kathy looked over at him and raised her brows.

  “Jaguars live in the jungles of Peru. After you cross the river, you’ll be traversing one particular jaguar’s territory. This animal was raised by the patrón from the time it was a kitten. The mother had been shot by a farmer, and they brought a male kitten to Garcia’s villa five years ago. This jaguar,” Mac warned her gravely, “was set loose in that area.”

  “Okay, so he’s had contact with humans.”

  “Yes, but not how you think.”

  Kathy frowned.

  “The jaguar has a fondness for human flesh.” He saw his words sink in. Again her lips parted, and then she snapped them shut.

  “So what you’re saying is that once I cross the river, this jaguar will be lying in wait for me? Because he likes human meat?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Just how many nannies have died trying to pass this man’s tests?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Anger and fear warred in Kathy. “My God. I never expected this.”

  “None of them do,” he told her softly. He looked around and eased the helo up to eight thousand feet. The climb up to Cuzco was sharp and sudden. Luckily, this helo could manage the high altitudes of the Andes, but not many could.

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “I know.”

  As she gazed out at the mountains below, Kathy felt fear eating at her. She was angry, because any one of these tests could claim her life before she even got near enough to Garcia to take his daughter.