Spies & Stilettos: A MacKenzie Family Novel, Book 18 (The MacKenzie Family)

by Liliana Hart

  Brady had changed out of the jumpsuit he’d donned for skydiving. He wore loose linen pants and a white Gauyabera shirt, and he sat across from Elena, who wore Bermuda shorts and a hideous Hawaiian flowered shirt. He winked at her as he riffled through paperwork.

  “Once we hit Miami, let’s get right into the lounge, finish up with Magnum, and hop over to Cancun,” Brady said. “Elena, I had your passport photo from the file, so you can stay tucked in here with Audrey while we do business. Magnum isn’t a fan of women.”

  “What about this?” she asked, holding up the short platinum wig she planned to use as her disguise. “My passport photo won’t match.”

  “Women change their hair all the time,” Audrey said. “There’s a reason we’re going through Miami. It’s party central. And those TSA agents are used to dealing with a variety of people trying to get on a plane. They’re not going to pay any attention to your picture.”

  Archer reached across the aisle and held his wife’s hand. Elena noticed the tenderness with which he treated her. She also noticed the stitching of scars and wounds that traversed across Audrey’s skin. She knew some of Audrey’s story, but not all, obviously. She knew she’d been a Mossad agent who’d been captured and tortured by the Palestinians before being rescued by the Americans. And she knew she’d been shot and left to die by her lover, who’d turned out to be a terrorist double agent for the CIA. She could feel sympathy for Audrey, and she admired how she never tried to hide her scars.

  “Thank you,” Elena told her.

  “What?” Audrey asked.

  Elena pressed a palm against the corner of her eye. “Thank you for helping me. All of you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

  “We’re sisters,” Audrey said, shrugging. “As is your niece. We stick together. You and I know torture. If we can stop it from happening to someone else, then we will.”

  Elena took a deep breath and realized she was slowly letting them in. And it felt good.

  Brady smiled her way and continued with the briefing. “We’ll arrive at Cancun International and taxi to the private jet area in the far southeast corner of the airfield. It’s not a very big airport, so we need to blend and get through customs as quick as possible.”

  “Do you think they’ll be expecting her?” Archer asked.

  “I’m afraid so.” Elena handed over her cell phone so Audrey and Archer could see the texts.

  “Damn,” Audrey said. “You’re going to have to take a new passport photo of her with the wig. Do we have time?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re expecting her though,” Archer said. “Whoever contacted her is expecting data. That can easily be done from a remote location.”

  “He knows I’d come after Marguerite,” Elena said. “To make sure he keeps his promise and releases her.”

  “You realize if you’d come alone you’d probably both end up dead?” Audrey asked.

  Elena nodded. “I was hoping Marguerite would be able to get to safety.”

  “Damn, girl,” Audrey said. “Talk about ballsy.”

  “That’s not exactly how I’d describe a suicide mission,” Brady said.

  Chapter Seven

  “Magnum, thank you for meeting us here,” Brady greeted the husky Slovenian.

  “Zdravo, Lieutenant Scott. Who’s your friend?”

  Magnum sat in the private lounge at the end of a conference table, shoveling small sandwiches into his mouth. He was shaped like a potato and his greasy hair was slicked to one side to partially hide a bald spot. The front of his white shirt had crumbs and what looked like a dab of mustard.

  “I’m Archer Ryan,” Archer said. “You know who I am?”

  “You’re the reason I’m under Declan MacKenzie’s thumb,” Magnum spat. “What happened to free enterprise?”

  “There’s no such thing as free enterprise when you align yourself with the terrorists. At least we left you alive. We don’t get a thank you for that?” Archer asked sarcastically.

  “Jeba,” Magnum said. The insult clear.

  “Maybe if we have time later,” Archer said, his smile cold. He stood a little taller and Magnum backed down. Archer was no one to mess with, and Magnum should remember that well. “I suggest we move on. We have places to be.”

  “You got the docs?” Brady asked.

  Two slick-covered booklets slipped through Magnum’s fingers and onto the bar-top table. Each one was a United States passport. Brady swiped them up and examined the contents. Immaculate, with the exception of their surnames.

  “Hilter? What the fuck is this? A joke?” Brady threw the documents back at Magnum. They bounced off his barrel chest and flopped onto the floor.

  “I thought the name Smith was…unimaginative.” His smile was sly, and he briefly flashed a silver incisor.

  “I can’t use these.” Brady padded around the small but luxurious private lounge. He raked his fingers through his hair. “How long will it take to fix these?”

  “You’ll pay for these and new ones.”

  “How long?” Brady’s voice remained low but anger simmered inside of him.

  “Eight to ten hours.” Magnum smacked in arrogance.

  “Try again,” Archer said.

  “Not sure why you’re pissed,” Magnum said. “It’s Hilter, not Hitler. Don’t you see the difference?”

  Brady tossed the two passports toward him. “You’ve got one hour to make this right.”

  “Not going to happen. It’ll take me that long to get onto the interstate. You’ll pay me for these or I’m walking out. You want new ones, then you can wait until I get done. Eight to ten hours.”

  Brady slapped the complimentary tray of finger foods off of the counter and pressed in toward Magnum, pulling him out of the chair by the shirt collar and shoving him against the wall.

  “These only took two hours to doctor up. What’s the extra time for?”

  Magnum grumbled a low guttural sound as he looked Archer over from head to toe.

  “Him. You brought him, that’s why. Eight to ten hours.”

  “Fine,” Brady said. “Mr. and Mrs. Hilter it is. But consider this the last time MacKenzie does business with you. How much?” Brady let go of his shirt and pulled out a wad of cash.

  “Six large.” Magnum’s dull eyes waxed cold over the stack of bills.

  “That’s two grand more than you said.”

  “It’s an administrative fee,” Magnum said.

  “Do you understand what it means when I say this is the last time the MacKenzies do business with you?” Brady said, his voice soft. “It means that the only reason you’re alive right now is because Declan MacKenzie wants you to be alive.”

  Archer took the KA-BAR from his boot and started cleaning his nails with it, and Magnum’s eyes darted back and forth between the knife and Brady. Sweat beaded on his upper lip.

  “It means you’re not going to have a nice safe place to do business anymore,” he continued. “Remember what it was like to be on the run like a rat, doing dirty deals in warehouses and alleys? Remember what it was like to know you were being hunted?”

  “I won’t toy with you this time,” Archer said. He moved swiftly and the knife embedded in the sheetrock just to the side of Magnum’s face. A trickle of blood escaped from where the knife had nicked his ear, and the smell of urine was strong in the room as Magnum’s bladder lost control.

  “F…four thousand,” he said.

  “A hell of a deal,” Brady said, taking the passports from Magnum and dropping the money into the urine at his feet.

  “This is go-time. Everyone remember your cover,” Brady said.

  Elena hunched over slightly as the jet circled the region while waiting for clearance to land. The reality of returning home had her muscles in knots and her tummy twisting flips. She drew the shade down after taking a peek through the window. The area’s beauty, which attracted most visitors, repulsed her.

  “You okay, Elena?” Archer
asked.

  Nausea swept over her as she hung her head between both knees and gave a thumbs-up.

  “Hang in there. Once we go operational, you’ll kick into the swing.”

  “Archer’s right,” Brady said. “You’re like a machine once the go switch is flipped. Just try to stay relaxed. They’ll be looking for you at the airport. No one will suspect a blonde-haired Julie Hilter. Mira, you on with us?”

  “Roger that. I’m monitoring through intercom.”

  “Thanks. Once we land, Mira will put on her chauffeur’s hat and drive us in the rented sedan to the resort. We can’t afford an abduction along the way,” Brady said. “Mira, once you quick clear the pilot’s terminal, there will be a rental in the name of Dr. Robert Hilter.”

  “Roger that, boss. Glad you were able to change the name on the reservation.”

  “Won’t they go through this jet if she leaves it in a hangar?” asked Audrey.

  “They’ll go through it either way. Might as well make it easy for them. This cabin has to be spotless—no clues.”

  “Is the cartel that embedded here?” Mira asked.

  “Yes,” they all said.

  “Touchdown in fifteen,” Mira advised.

  “Okay,” Brady replied. “We’ll mix into the resort the rest of the day. We have a Jeep excursion scheduled before sunset tomorrow. It will give us a chance to pull off the path while the others are holding hands as the sun goes down.”

  “Chance for what? Aren’t we’re moving in tonight?” Elena asked anxiously.

  “Sorry, but no. Audrey’s assets on the peninsula are set to deploy two golf carts tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Golf carts?” she asked skeptically. “We’re supposed to make our escape on golf carts?”

  “Golf carts are street legal,” he said, lips twitching with humor. “Besides, these have been tweaked a little. You’re going to have to hold on to your ass.”

  “Interesting imagery,” she said.

  “Audrey has the coordinates, but we’ll need to check the equipment they stocked the vehicles with.”

  “Weapons?” Archer asked.

  “Yes, but for this phase we need highly encrypted covert communications and surveillance equipment.”

  “Why can’t we just go tonight?” Elena asked. “They’re getting more aggressive, and I’m worried sick about Marguerite.”

  “Listen, Elena,” Audrey said. “We’re here to help. And we’ll do everything in our power to save Marguerite. But think how much closer we’d be if you’d come to us the moment this cat and mouse game started. This is the tough love portion of the trip. You don’t have time to be worried, and we can’t waste our energy worrying about whether or not you’re going to fall apart. We’re only as strong as our weakest link. Right now, that link is you. You’re not a field agent but you’ve been a part of this organization for a lot of years. You’ve trained with us. You know how to fight. You know how to shoot. And you know how to keep your cool when things go to shit on the ground. I know it’s different when the threat is pointed toward you. But when the enemy plays on those weaknesses, they will bring you to your knees if you let them. I’ve been there. We’ve all been there. There will be plenty of time to fall apart after it’s done, okay?”

  Elena knew Audrey was right. She was better than this. Stronger than this, and she hadn’t worked like a dog these last seven years so she could crumble. She felt Brady’s hand squeeze her shoulder in support and appreciated it more than he could know.

  “Strap in for landing,” Mira called out.

  Elena forced herself upright as the jet eased onto the runway like hot butter on bread. She fought a panic attack as her cell phone, which had intermittently gone in and out of carrier service, began to dump messages and two missed phone calls.

  “They’re calling me now,” she said, looking at the others.

  “It shows they’re desperate.” Brady added, “I know this sounds harsh, but if they wanted to rape and torture someone, they could pick anyone. They grabbed Marguerite to get to you. They harm her, they lose you. They lose you and they lose the data. Therefore, they don’t harm her. Get it?”

  Elena breathed deep and calmed the initial panic. “I know all of that logically, but all I can think about is what they did to me. I can’t stomach the thought of that happening to my niece.”

  The others were unbuckled and gathering their things while Elena sat frozen. She was nauseated, and it was everything she could do not to be sick. They’d sent more images, and she didn’t have the courage to click on them and see whatever horrors were captured forever.

  “Make a choice, Elena,” Audrey said. “Either help or go back with Mira. You’ve got ten minutes to make up your mind or we’ll make the decision for you. It’s not only Marguerite’s life on the line. It’s all of ours. It’s time to be smart and strong.”

  They left her alone inside the plane to make her decision, even Brady, and she finally managed to get unbuckled and stumble to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed how dark her eyes looked against her pale skin. She looked sick and shaken as she removed the bandage from her chin, but she ran the cold water and splashed it on her face, reminding herself to calm down and focus.

  When she went back into the cabin, she could hear the others talking outside. She knew her time was almost up. She unlocked the cell phone and clicked on the images they’d sent, bracing herself for the onslaught. The first one wasn’t an image of Marguerite, as she’d feared, but of her, chained like a dog for others to pet.

  “This isn’t me anymore,” she said, stronger than she felt. And then she deleted it. She scrolled to the next picture, and then the next, and did the same with all of them.

  Elena stuffed the cell phone into her purse and hurriedly straightened her clothes and her spine. She was supposed to be enjoying her resort vacation with her husband, and by God, no one would be able to tell otherwise.

  “I’m in,” she said. “One hundred percent.”

  Brady smiled and reached up to help her down the ladder, and he let their touch linger long enough that her breath caught. Then she realized she was being foolish. They were married. And that’s what married couples did. He was just acting out the part.

  “Play it up in public,” he whispered as he kissed her ear.

  Dio, he was making her lose her mind. She fought off the shudder, completely out of her element. It was hard to remember the Elena she’d been before the attack. But those feelings Brady had incited in her were coming back with alarming speed.

  She smiled coyly. “You’re just trying to get away with more besos.” She pushed out of his arms, feeling awkward at this new dance.

  “Welcome back, Julie.”

  “Thank you, Robert.”

  Archer swept Elena’s canvas bag up from the cargo compartment and waved for them to move out.

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you mind if I ask how you got the flash drive through security?” Mira looked back at Elena through the rearview mirror.

  “She slipped it into her makeup bag,” Archer said.

  “You saw that?” Elena asked.

  “I was a spy,” he said. “I see everything.”

  “Very funny,” she said.

  It was almost an hour drive to the resort from the airport, and the emotional ups and downs of the past few days were taking their toll on her. She was exhausted and dozed off and on in the back seat. The night was black and starless, and the two-lane highway dimly lit. The flash of streetlights was hypnotic.

  She had removed the bandage on her chin in the airplane and examined the stitches. The wound was still red and angry looking, but there was no need for the larger bandage. She’d been able to cover it with a regular Band-Aid. The cuts on her hand and wrist weren’t as serious, but she still had to be careful she didn’t open anything back up.

  “Wake up, baby,” Brady said softly. He held her hand and rubbed gently until she was able to get rid of the sleep fog. “You need a
t least a solid eight hours. You’ve got to take care of yourself or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

  “Believe me,” she said. “A bed is what I’m most looking forward to right now, though a shower is running a close second.”

  “We’re here,” Brady said.

  It was obvious they were in the tourist areas because the dark highway opened to more lanes and was brighter than the strip in Vegas. Huge stucco walls lined both sides of the road and palm trees towered, giving the illusion that paradise was just inside the gates. All of the resorts had a gatehouse and a guard, and only guests could enter the property.

  Mira turned into their resort, flashed a smile at the guard and handed him everyone’s passports. She dropped the rear window and, after an elderly man poked his head through a few times, they were waved on.

  Elena was thankful Brady had Mira on the team. She was loyal, passionate, and although she still very much paraded her hard, Marine Corps exterior, she had a heart of gold.

  The resort was opulence magnified. The main lobby was open and airy, like a palace with no walls, and no expense had been spared. There were fountains and chandeliers, and even flamingos roamed freely through the resort grounds. The main lobby was higher up than the rest of the complex, and the view out the back was beautiful. Pools and spas dotted the exterior like crystals upon a velvet cloth, and tiny villas that looked like dollhouses were lit up like Christmas. And then at the far side was a tall tower where the hotel rooms were. Even from where they stood, the crashing waves could be heard.

  Elena breathed it all in, but the conflicting portrait between this and what waited for them across the peninsula wasn’t lost on her. She felt awkward as they moved through the checkin process. She knew the others were watching for everything and everyone who might be working for the cartel. She only hoped to spot Marguerite. Impossible, yes, but still she hoped, no matter how unrealistic.

  They were led to their rooms by two girls in tiny sarongs and bikini tops. Brady flashed a suite access card across the security reader and then they were inside. Finally, privacy from everyone other than the one person she trusted.