Relentless (Benson's Boys Book 2)

by Janet Elizabeth Henderson

  “I’m going to talk to your mother when we get out of here,” Patricia said. “Between this and your taste in underwear, you may as well have been raised by gorillas in the wild.”

  “Shh!” Elle said. “I think I hear footsteps.”

  They didn’t have to strain to hear them this time. There were footsteps and they were getting closer. Julia held the gun tight. She wouldn’t be able to fire it, but she could throw it at whoever turned up.

  “Señorita Collins?” a female whispered. “Are you there? It is Maria, from management.”

  “Maria?” Julia stage-whispered, hoping it wouldn’t travel through the painting into the chapel.

  A beam from a flashlight appeared. The holder aimed it up the stairs before turning it on herself. Julia almost cried at the sight.

  “Come.” Maria motioned with her hand. “I saw you come in here and knew you must have been hiding. I will show you the way out.”

  The women didn’t have to be told twice. They practically tumbled down the stairs in their eagerness to get to Maria.

  “Thank you, Maria,” Julia said. “For this and for calling to warn us.”

  “De nada. Follow me. Stay close—there are holes in the floor in some places. I will take you to one of the hidden exits. I have a key. It will take you out to a corridor inside the church of Las Damas De Nuestro Señor.”

  “Part of the old convent?” Julia said.

  “Si. The monks and nuns used to meet up through this secret tunnel. There were many miraculous births in the convent. It was very famous for it.” There was amusement in the brave woman’s voice.

  “Have the men gone?” Julia said. “The ones chasing us?”

  “I think they have gone from the hotel, but they could have someone watching. That’s why it’s safer to go this way. These are not good men, señorita. They are well known for doing some very bad things.”

  “I know.” Julia placed a hand on Maria’s arm. “We can’t thank you enough.”

  “It is the right thing to do.” They’d reached a heavy wooden door that was centuries old and warped with time.

  Maria produced a massive iron key and turned the lock. The door didn’t make a sound when it opened. “We keep all doors in good condition,” she explained. “You never know when you will need them.” The door opened onto a dark passageway. “Take my flashlight. I can find my way out from here in the dark. It is not so far.”

  Julia gratefully accepted the gift.

  “Follow this corridor to the end, where you will find stairs. At the top of the stairs there are two doors. Take the left one. It will take you through the back of the church to the outer door. You will be able to get a taxi on the street there.”

  “The rest of our group?” Julia’s stomach clenched at the thought of Joe walking into another trap.

  “We have people waiting to intercept them before they approach. And we will pack up your belongings and send them to your home address.” Maria hesitated. “I don’t think we can mail the mummy.” She sounded so apologetic that Julia almost laughed.

  “You might want to hand that over to a local museum. They’ll find a good home for it.”

  “Si, this I will do.”

  “Thank you, for everything.” Julia reached out and squeezed Maria’s hand.

  “I wish you well and hope you stay safe,” Maria said.

  Julia stepped into the corridor and waited for the others to follow. Patricia stopped at Maria and pulled her into a tight hug.

  “Watch the mail, young lady. There will be a huge tip coming your way.”

  They closed the door to Maria’s tinkling laugh.

  The corridor was much longer than Julia thought it would be. They didn’t say a word until they started climbing the stone stairs to the convent chapel.

  “Anyone else thinking about those randy nuns and monks?” Elle said.

  They pushed through the door Maria had told them to take and found themselves behind the pulpit in the chapel. The exit was on the left, and Julia couldn’t help but notice that the women’s chapel wasn’t anywhere near as ornate as the men’s. Maybe they didn’t have as much money to decorate, seeing as they had all those extra mouths to feed? She tried to busy her mind thinking about living in a place like this, but it made no difference—it kept steering her back to Joe.

  Had he gotten her message? Was he safe? Was he hurt? Her stomach spasmed at the thought, and she reminded herself that Joe knew what he was doing. He was trained, experienced and smart. She had to trust in him and believe he’d be fine.

  Rushing across the chapel, they pushed through the exit onto a busy street. There was a line of taxis waiting, and they climbed into the back of the first one.

  Once inside, the three women looked at each other.

  “Where are we going?” Elle said.

  “I don’t know,” Julia said. “I think the men will probably check the hotels.”

  “The central plaza,” Patricia said. “It’s always busy, and we can hole up in the cathedral, or one of the restaurants and bars.”

  When they readily agreed, Patricia told the driver to head to the Plaza de Armas. As soon as he drove into the traffic, the women ducked down to hide. Julia pulled out her phone. She had to make sure Joe had got her text. She had to make sure he was safe. Joe was out in the middle of nowhere with a man he thought was his friend, but who’d allied himself to Carlos Esteban.

  She tapped his image on the screen of her phone as they rushed through the busy streets.

  Joe, Callum and Ryan were hunkered down behind a copse of prickly bushes, their guns trained on the men who poured from between the giant slabs of rock. Seven, Joe noted. They’d reduced them by three and there was no sign of Ed. Whether that meant he was elsewhere or his new comrades had turned on him, Joe didn’t know.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Callum signal at him.

  We hide. Wait.

  Joe nodded his agreement. They sure as hell couldn’t run for it. He watched as Esteban’s men spread out, shouting out to each other, not even trying to keep quiet. They thought they had the upper hand. Joe liked to think they didn’t. As some of the men made their way off in the opposite direction, the number who were close enough to be an immediate threat was reduced.

  Things were looking up.

  And then his phone rang.

  He scrambled for it and shut it off, but it was too late. Esteban’s men were running towards them.

  “I’ll hold them off,” Callum said. “You two circle around. Take out as many as you can.”

  Joe and Ryan didn’t have to be told twice. They ran, crouching low, in opposite directions, flanking their enemy, as Callum started to fire. Their boss was lying flat on his belly, firing with his arms out in front of him, making himself as small a target as possible.

  Joe moved fast and silent, his breath eerily steady, his heartbeat calm. He was trained for this and he had confidence in his experience. He came up on the first man as he ran down a steep verge. Joe slipped his gun into the waistband of his jeans and pulled his knife out from a sheath strapped to his shin. He pounced on the man, attacking from behind, one hand covering his mouth as the other stabbed up and into his heart. A sharp, perfectly placed strike. He lowered the man to the ground and moved on to the next one.

  Gunfire rang out. Esteban’s men were focused on dodging bullets and getting to Callum’s hiding spot. It never occurred to them that their prey wasn’t waiting for them. It was clear this so-called army of Esteban’s weren’t trained. They might have been experienced in violence and blood, but they didn’t think strategically.

  Joe took out another two men, while Callum’s bullets caught two more. One was writhing on the ground holding his leg. Joe crouched as he ran over to the man. He knocked him out and took his gun.

  “Behind you!” The call came from the other side of the bloody field.

  Joe spun and shot.

  Hitting Ed square in the chest.

  Ed looked down at
the wound. The gun in his hand fell to the grass. Ed followed, his knees hitting the earth with a thud.

  “Joe?” His eyes began to glaze over.

  “Why, Ed? Why, dammit?” Joe caught his one-time friend and lowered him to the ground. He ripped off his own t-shirt and wadded it up, holding it to the wound. But he knew his efforts were futile. It was a lethal shot. “Tell me why, old friend.”

  Ed started to smile and then coughed. Blood trickled from his lips. “Money.”

  “Money?” Joe wanted to roar at the stupidity.

  “You don’t live here.” Ed’s voice was barely a croak. “It’s hard here without enough money.”

  “Damn, Ed, you’re a lawyer. You aren’t selling trash from the city dump.”

  Ed tried to shake his head, but couldn’t. “Corrupt. Everything corrupt. Need money to live well. Need money to buy…favours…to…be…happy…here…”

  And then he was gone. Joe stared at the man he’d trusted, not only with his life, but the life of the woman he loved. A man who came from the same background as he did, who’d been trained in honour. A man who should have stood for something. Who could have stood for something. Instead, he’d sold himself for nothing.

  “Joe,” Ryan said flatly.

  “I’m coming.” Joe stood, feeling as though the air around him was pushing him back down.

  Ryan was several feet behind Joe. There was blood on his hands. He gave Joe a look that was far too understanding.

  “You had no choice.”

  Joe jerked his chin up. That didn’t make it any easier. He looked down at Ed’s body. It was wrong to leave him lying in a field. Every cell of his being wanted to carry him back to Lima for a proper burial.

  “You can’t,” Ryan said, reading his mind.

  With no vehicle, Callum incapacitated and who knew how many more of Esteban’s men out there, they couldn’t afford to take Ed with them.

  “This wasn’t him,” Joe said. “The Ed I knew, back in the corps, wouldn’t have sold us out.”

  Ryan clasped Joe’s shoulder. “I liked him.”

  “Yeah.” Joe ran a hand down his face. “He was the one who told me that honour wasn’t a code for a marine—it was his soul.”

  He clenched his fists, angry at Ed. Angry at the choices he’d made and the actions he’d forced Joe to take. Angry at the waste of a good man. A waste that would haunt Joe for the rest of his life.

  “He lost his soul.” Joe looked at Ed one last time. “I’ll come back for you.”

  Ryan didn’t say anything.

  “Let’s go.” Joe would deal with his guilt and the ghosts that followed him later. There was nothing else he could do for Ed now.

  They jogged to the bush where Callum lay flat on his back. “Out of ammo.” He held up his gun.

  “You okay?” Joe leaned down to help him up.

  “No. The bastards shot my leg.”

  Ryan and Joe stilled, both of them looking down. There was no blood.

  “Did they get the plastic part, Callum?” Ryan asked sweetly.

  “Shut up.”

  Of course, Ryan didn’t shut up. “I’d think you’d be happy that they didn’t hit the bit that’s still attached to you. The bit that bleeds. Remember that bit?”

  “If I didn’t only have one leg, I’d kick your arse.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ryan put his shoulder under Callum’s arm and took his weight. “Isn’t there a really bad joke about a man with one leg?”

  “Do. Not. Go. There.”

  “Maybe once this is all over we can stop off in the States on the way home and grab some dinner at IHOP?”

  “You want to be fired, don’t you?”

  “I’ve just thought of something else,” Ryan said with a wide grin. “Shouldn’t a guy in your position have bulletproof legs? Oh! Wait! You could get them made with compartments and store stuff in them.” Ryan looked awestruck. “Dude, you could be the Bionic Man. Or even better—Inspector Gadget.”

  “That’s it, you’re fired. Consider yourself out of a job.” From the ferocity of Callum’s growling voice, Ryan was lucky Callum didn’t just shoot him.

  “Boss, you fire somebody during every one of our ops. We consider it a sign of affection.”

  “This is only our second bloody op!”

  “Yeah, and how many people have you fired and rehired so far? I’m the fifth.” He patted Callum’s chest. “You have issues. You might want to see a counsellor.”

  Joe tuned them out as they walked towards the road, leaving a field of death and a man who’d been a friend, behind them.

  He dug his phone out to see who’d called. It was Julia. Joe put the phone to his ear to hear the voicemail she’d left. It started with, “We’re okay, don’t worry,” and went downhill from there.

  “We need to speed things up. The women were attacked at the hotel. They got out and they’re hiding in plain sight with the other tourists. You two get a move on and I’ll get us a car.” He ran towards the dirt road and the small village beyond.

  Nothing mattered to him more than getting to Julia. She needed him. And Joe desperately needed her.

  Chapter 23

  Julia, Elle and Patricia were sitting in a dark booth in the back of Cusco’s Irish bar. The place was crowded with tourists who were seeking food from home and like-minded travellers. There was a soccer game playing on the massive screen behind the bar, and the patrons were very vocal in their support for each team. Through it all, the women sat with one eye on the doors and the other on Elle’s laptop, where they were working to decode the last of the images on the mummy’s textiles.

  After listening to her gran and Elle talking about the decoding process for hours, Julia had come to a few conclusions. First, Patricia was never going to decode the map by the time Esteban called the following morning. Second, Ed had probably told Esteban about their plan to con him with fake treasure, rendering that option useless. And third, they no longer had a mummy to trade.

  Basically, they were stuffed.

  “Stop worrying,” her gran said. “He’ll be here soon.”

  “I know.” Joe had texted her to say he was on his way, but had to get cleaned up first.

  Julia hadn’t shared the last part of the message because she feared that he didn’t mean he had to wash off a little mud.

  Her eyes drifted towards the door again, although it was getting hard to see the entrance now that the bar was filling up. They’d been watching for Esteban’s men since they sat down, which was ludicrous, because none of them knew what the men looked like—except in the surveillance photos Elle had dug up online. But Julia figured that anyone who came into the bar and wasn’t wearing Gore-Tex and fleece was probably suspicious.

  She saw the door open. The crowd parted for the newcomers, as though a sea parting for Moses. And Julia knew. Her heart sped up, her nerve endings tingled and she knew. Then the bodies thinned and he was there.

  “Joe!”

  Julia was out of her seat and running to him before she could think. For once in her life, she wasn’t afraid about being the centre of attention. All she cared about was that Joe was there and he was safe.

  She launched herself at him, her arms going around his neck, her legs wrapping around his waist. He caught her without hesitation and held her tight.

  “I was so worried,” she said against his throat, breathing in the scent that was only Joe.

  A large hand ran down her back. “We’re okay, baby. You can rest easy now.”

  Julia leaned back to look up at him. “Ed?”

  His face became stone, his eyes dark pools of pain. “He’s dead.”

  “Oh, Joe,” she whispered, devastated at the news of the man she’d grown fond of. The man she’d thought was a friend.

  She wrapped her arms back around him, giving what comfort she could. He stroked her back and nuzzled at her temple.

  “Oi, lovebirds.” Ryan appeared beside them. “You’re blocking the path to the bar.”

&nb
sp; Julia looked around her and blushed. She was greeted by several smiling faces. And then she remembered she was supposed to be in hiding. “Oh, no. We were trying not to attract attention.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “Well, that’s the way to do it. Come on. We need to get the other two witches.”

  “Hey!” Julia smacked him on the chest. Her eyes went wide, and she wasn’t sure who was more astonished, her or Ryan.

  He grinned wickedly. “Would you prefer I call you Charlie’s Angels instead?”

  “Next time,” Joe said, “hit him harder.”

  When they got back to Elle and Patricia, Julia beamed. “Joe’s okay.”

  “So I see.” Her gran gave her an indulgent smile.

  “So am I,” Ryan said. “In case anyone was wondering.”

  Patricia looked behind Joe. “Where are Callum and Ed?”

  Julia tensed and felt Joe do the same.

  “Callum’s back at the new hotel. We’ll fill you in on everyone and everything when we get there.” Ryan made a circular gesture with his finger. “The walls have ears. Pack up, ladies.” He looked at Joe. “Have I got time to get some burgers to go?”

  “No.”

  “You are a crap partner.” Ryan pouted, his eyes on a plate loaded with a burger and fries that was being carried to a table near them.

  “You can get food at the hotel,” Julia said. For some reason, she wanted to pat him. As though he was a puppy.

  “Bet it won’t be as good.” He let out a heavy sigh.

  Patricia stepped out of the booth and tapped Ryan on the shoulder. “They deliver.” She pointed to a sign over the bar. “Pick up a card on the way out and order from the hotel.”

  His grin was blinding. “If I were twenty years older, I’d run away with you, Patty.” He headed towards the bar and the takeaway menus.

  “Patty?” Joe asked, his lips quirking.

  Gran shook her head. “That boy has the cheek of a teenager.”

  “Let’s go.” Still holding Julia’s waist, Joe aimed them for the door. “Keep together. Follow our lead. The hotel’s only a couple of blocks from here, and it’s busy outside. We’ll blend with the other tourists until we get where we need to be.” He stopped beside a woman wearing a grey fleece beanie and spoke to her. As Joe dug into his pocket, the woman smiled and took off her hat. She handed it to Joe and he handed her money. In turn, he gave the hat to Elle. “Cover the blue hair.”