She knew she had exactly two options at this point.
She could roll over. Go front to front with him. Fan into fire the sparks they'd been striking off each other since she'd walked into that smoky dive two nights ago.
Or she could roll away. Stay focused on the urgent business that had brought her to Copper Canyon.
With a sharp sting of regret, Dani gathered the towel against her breasts and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Behind her, Buchanan flopped onto his back. She speared a look over her shoulder and felt her stomach clench. For a man with only a rickety biplane and a rusted pickup to his name, he looked— and acted—like he owned the world.
Hands hooked behind his head, his body lean and tanned against the white sheets, he gave her a look that made goose bumps pop out all up and down her spine. "Next time, we'll finish what we've started."
It took some doing, but she managed a cool smile. "You think so?"
"I know so."
She couldn't help laughing. He looked so smug. And so damned sure of himself. She almost hated to burst his bubble.
Almost.
Buchanan's tantalizing promise hovered in her thoughts all day. As if to add to the simmering turmoil he'd created in her mind, he played the honeymooner to the hilt.
Each time they parked the Jeep and climbed out to explore one of the villages Dani had circled on her map, he draped an arm around her shoulders. Anchored side by side like the newlyweds they were supposed to be, they ambled through the dirt streets and explored the local markets.
While she discreetly pumped the locals for information, Jack maintained their cover by purchasing gifts for his new bride. Some were mere trinkets. A wooden flute carved with fantastic shapes. A nest of intricately woven baskets. A small but obviously fecund soapstone figurine.
"The ancients believed this goddess bring babies," the Tarahumara Indian who sold it explained. With a shy smile, she rubbed the figure's grossly distended stomach. "Many, many babies."
"Good," Jack said solemnly. "We want many, many babies."
"Speak for yourself," Dani muttered under her breath.
Nevertheless, she tucked the goddess into her pocket. But when they stopped at an open-air market just after lunch, and Jack picked up a beaten silver bracelet studded with bits of tourmaline, she drew the line. Or tried to.
"How much?" he asked the native craftsman.
The man named his price, and Dani murmured a quick protest. "It's too expensive."
"The stone is the same color as your eyes," Jack said with a shrug, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.
"You should at least try to bargain!"
"Why? I want you to have it. Our friend here wants to sell it. A few pesos won't change that. Right?"
Thus appealed to, the silversmith nodded in agreement. "It is a good price, señora. The stones, they are very clear and bright."
"Yes, they are."
Dani felt herself weakening. The bracelet really was gorgeous. The primitive designs stamped into the silver swirls hinted at Barranca del Cobre's past. The rough-cut bits of quartz shimmered in the sunlight.
"Do these pieces come from around here?"
"From the caves above the village where my wife's uncle lives, senora. I used to get many such stones there before the..."
He caught himself. A guarded expression dropped over the broad planes of his face. It was, Dani thought with a sudden kick in her pulse, the same careful wariness that had wiped the friendliness from the hotel receptionist's eyes.
"Before the what?" she prompted.
The artisan glanced around, fingering the fringe of his colorful serape. "Before the caves became unsafe," he said finally, choosing his words with obvious care.
She wanted to probe further, but he pocketed the wad of bills Jack passed him, bundled up his wares and scurried away. Her every nerve taut, Dani stared after him.
"Did you see his face?"
"I saw it."
"He's scared. Just like the receptionist at the hotel."
"The thugs who kidnapped your sister must have a pretty extensive network of spies."
"They do," she replied, her stomach clenching as she remembered the tip the bastards had received just before the commando raid last week. "I'm going to nose around, see if I can pick up the name and location of this wife's uncle's village."
Jack's gaze roamed the square and snagged on a tin-roofed cantina. "Okay. While you do that, I'll check out the home brew."
Dani's mouth thinned as she watched him stroll across the dirt square. So much for not sitting idly by, twiddling his thumbs! Disappointed and more than a bit disgruntled, she worked the square.
When Buchanan sauntered up to her some time later, she'd verified the name of the artisan, but was still trying to pin down the exact location of his wife's uncle's village.
"It's about twenty miles from here." Jack informed her. "I've got rough directions. Best guess is that it will take four hours to drive there on these winding roads." Slipping a hand under her elbow, he steered her toward the green-and-white vehicle. "Let's get back to the hotel and rev up the Stearman."
"Wait a minute." She dragged her heels and brought him to a halt. "Before I climb into a Jeep or a plane with you, I want to know how many beers you downed before you solicited this information."
"Two bottles."
She had no idea how much of a punch the local brew packed, but Buchanan didn't show any signs of inebriation. On the contrary, the glint in his eyes signaled he was ready for anything.
As if to prove the point, he curled a knuckle under her chin and dropped a swift, hard kiss on her mouth.
"You drive. I'll fly."
Chapter 4
They located the remote village an hour later. Just in time, too. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows that almost swallowed the handful of huts clustered at the base of the cliffs. Another twenty minutes or so and they would have been searching the narrow valley in darkness.
Not a prospect that filled Dani with wild enthusiasm. She wasn't particularly anxious to put Buchanan's claim of being able to fly blind to the test. Twisting in her harness, she studied the sheer rock walls they'd just swooped by, and pressed the button for her intercom.
"I want to scan the cliffs above the village. Can you take us down a little closer on the next pass?"
Silly question. Of course he could. Gulping, Dani clutched the sides as he aimed the Stearman straight up, spun her on her tail and plunged back down. The valley that had seemed semi-navigable at best just seconds ago suddenly closed in on all sides.
While Buchanan fought a series of vicious updrafts and ninety-degree twists, Dani did her best to level the scanner at rock precipices above the village. The slicing wind and dizzying, tip-tilted angles defeated her. After the second pass, she was forced to admit defeat.
"I can't hold the scanner steady. We'll have to land and conduct the surveillance on foot. Where's the nearest airstrip?"
"According to the charts, there's a dirt strip about five miles farther up the valley. But I think I can get us down a little closer than that."
He banked, taking the canary-yellow trainer into a steep turn. A moment later, he aimed for a small, fiat plateau almost lost amid the surrounding peaks. Dani squinted through her goggles at the scruffy oaks and twisted piñons dotting the plateau. True, there was a clear patch among the scrub—a very small clear patch!—but it ended abruptly in a sheer drop at the far edge of the escarpment.
"Buchanan! Tell me you're not going to try to land on that anthill!"
"Not to worry. This baby can stop on a dime and give back nine cents in change. You'd better check your harness, though, just in case."
She didn't like the sound of that. At all.
"Jack! Wait! I don't think this is a good idea!"
Her nervous shout got lost in the wind. Either that, or Buchanan simply ignored it. Working the controls with both hands and feet, he leveled off and throttled back. When they we
re still a good fifty yards from the flat mountaintop, he killed the engine completely.
A sudden, soaring silence surrounded them, the same stillness that must envelop hawks and eagles when they glided on the wind. Dani might have appreciated the profound quiet more if she wasn't convinced that the Stearman would go into a nosedive several yards shy of the designated landing site. She dropped the scanner, scrunched it tight between her boots and clutched the sides of the cockpit with white-knuckled fists.
They skimmed in mere inches above a piñon clinging to the edge of the cliff. The wheels hit once, bounced up and came down with a thump. Dani pushed out a shaky sigh of relief, then sucked it back in again as the plane kept right on rolling. If her paralyzed brain cells had been capable of emitting a signal at that point, she would have squeezed her eyes shut. As it was, all she could do was stare in fascinated horror at the empty void looming dead ahead.
Finally—finally!—they fishtailed to a stop. Buchanan fiddled with the instruments, climbed out of the front cockpit and nonchalantly strolled forward to peer over the edge of the plateau. He ambled back a few moments later, wearing a thoroughly satisfied expression.
"We're right on target. The village looks like it's only a mile or so away."
Thoroughly rattled and trying hard not to show it, Dani climbed out of the cockpit on rubbery legs. "That means the caves are, too."
"So what's the plan?"
"Give me a minute, okay? I'm still waiting for my stomach to catch up with the rest of me."
He looked genuinely wounded. "You weren't worried, were you? I told you the Stearman could stop on a dime."
"I'll feel a lot better if you'd tell me she can take off again on the same ten cents. With—assuming we get lucky!—a third passenger."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
"Shouldn't?"
"Well, I might need to siphon off some fuel. How much does your sister weigh? "
"About the same as I do, give or take a few pounds. Or she did, the last time I saw her."
The last of Dani's shakiness disappeared, edged out by the hollow, helpless feeling that had haunted her for the past three weeks. She'd listened to the taped interview with the Canadian executive who'd escaped his kidnappers, knew what indignities and deprivations he'd suffered.
But Patricia was tough, Dani reminded herself grimly. She couldn't have made it in the mostly male, ultramacho world of hydroelectric engineering without developing survival skills. Besides which, Daniel Flynn had made sure both his girls could protect themselves.
"Okay," Dani said, pulling in a steadying breath, "here's the plan. You stay and guard the plane. I'll work my way down the cliffs, using—"
"Dammit, I thought I made myself clear last night! We're in this together, Flynn."
The anger that flared hot and swift gave Jack his first hint that he might be in over his head. The idea of Dani climbing down those cliffs to take on a band of kidnappers put a kink in his gut. The fact that she'd intended to go it alone completely infuriated him. Conveniently forgetting that he always insisted on flying solo himself, he barked out an order.
"Help me push the plane under those trees."
"Look, Buchanan—"
"Now, Captain!"
Her arm whipped up in a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"
Simmering with irritation, he positioned her behind the left wing and lined up on the right. It took both of them to angle the biplane around and back it tail-first under the shelter of a piñon. While Dani gathered loose branches to cover the nose, Jack hauled over two good-size boulders and jammed them against the wheels.
"That should keep her," he pronounced.
Reaching into his canvas flight bag, he pulled out a Glock. Dani's brows snapped together as he popped the magazine, checked the load and slapped it back in again.
"When did crop dusters start carrying police specials with crosshatched grips and laser sights?"
Shrugging, Buchanan holstered the Glock, unbuckled his belt and slid the weapon around to the small of his back. "I can't speak for the rest of the profession, but I never leave home without one. Ready?"
"Ready."
Not fifteen minutes later, Dani was forced to call a halt.
This narrow slice of Barranca del Cobre didn't run to soft, purple dusks. Once the sun dropped behind the mountains, dark shadows speared across the cliffs. Seemingly in the next minute, inky darkness coated the peaks, the valley and everything in between.
Anticipating a night operation, Dani had tucked a set of night-vision goggles into her gear bag. Even with their powerful capabilities, however, a night descent was just too darned dangerous. Besides, she'd brought only one set. No way was she letting Buchanan navigate in the dark. Biting down on her frustration, she insisted they climb back to the plateau.
"We'll grab a few hours sleep and try again come dawn."
Going back up was easier than going down. Dumping her bag beside the fuselage, Dani kicked away some of the concealing scrub while Buchanan dragged out the packed chutes, the seat cushions and his brown leather bomber jacket.
"It won't be the first time I've bedded down under this baby's wings," he acknowledged, arranging the chutes and cushions into a rough mattress. He seemed to take it as a matter of course that they'd sleep side by side.
Remembering his husky promise to finish what they'd started, Dani opened her mouth to inform him this wasn't the time or the place for a roll in the seat cushions. The chill breeze dancing along her arms had her shutting it again. The temperature would drop considerably before dawn. It only made sense to share body heat.
But that's all they'd share. There was too much at stake and she was too darned close to her objective to lose her edge now. With that thought firmly in mind, she dropped down on one knee and fumbled in her bag. She'd left most of her spare clothes at the hotel, but the silver bracelet was in the bag, tucked away for safekeeping. Nudging it aside, she rummaged around for the toils of her trade.
"You sack out," he instructed. "I'll take first watch."
"We can both sack out. I, uh, requisitioned a supply of electronic sensors for this mission."
With a flourish, she extracted a package of wafer thin, dime-size disks wrapped in. electrostatic plastic, and what looked like an ordinary sports watch.
"These babies are simple, silent and highly effective. If anyone or anything steps on them, the wrist receiver emits an electrical pulse. This little contraption has jolted me out of sleep more than once," she admitted wryly.
He hunkered down beside her while she unwrapped the disks. "How do you activate them?"
She moved his fingers until he found the slight ridge on the underside of one. "You just slide this little tab to the right, then sow the sensors at ten or fifteen foot intervals."
"Got it. I'll plant a half-dozen on the goat path we just climbed up. You sow some around the far edge of the plateau, just in case."
Torn between amusement and irritation, Dani glanced up at his shadowed face. Evidently you could take the pilot out of the Air Force, but not out of the habit of command.
Ten minutes later they were back at the plane. Buchanan made himself comfortable on the seat cushions, taking up more than his fair share of space. Hopefully, he eyed her leather carryall.
"Any chance your magic bag of tricks contains anything edible?"
"As a matter of fact, it does. I raided the bar in our room before we left this morning. We have chocolate bars. We have Spanish peanuts. We have individual rounds of Gouda and Cheddar. Crackers. What I'm guessing are smoked beef strips. Bottled water, and..." she squinted at the label on a tall, slender jar "... cocktail onions. "
"Doesn't sound like we'll starve."
"In one night? Hardly." She tossed him the can of peanuts. "Besides, you went through survival training. Didn't they teach you to make a meal on beetles?"
"Beetles, mosquito larvae and the occasional snake or two." Popping the top on the can, he scooped out a fistful of peanuts. "What about you?
Did you have to crunch down bugs in spy school?"
"A few," she admitted, firmly repressing all thoughts of those weeks of Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape training. SERE did not rank among her favorite memories.
While they made a serious dent in the cheese and crackers, the night deepened around them. Shivering, Dani pulled on her nylon windbreaker. The thin layer of protection lessened the bite but generated only minimal warmth. She left Buchanan shrugging into his beat-up leather jacket, and ducked behind a tree for a few minutes. When she returned, he'd taken full possession of the seat cushions.
"Think you can make room for two there?"
She caught a gleam of white teeth. "If we squeeze up tight."
Dani hesitated. For a brief instant, she felt just like Little Red Riding Hood standing before the big bad wolf.
Which was totally absurd. The wolf hadn't even tried to sink his fangs into her this morning when she'd cuddled up against him on a nice, soft mattress. He wasn't likely to do so tonight, when they were both fully clothed and bedded down on a mountain, for pity's sake.
Which just went to show how little she knew about wolves. Or Buchanan. She'd no sooner wiggled into a comfortable position when he pounced. So to speak. It was actually more of a roll than a pounce, but it tilted the cushions and wedged her against him.
"You're not contemplating anything stupid, are you?" he growled.
Her heart skipped a beat. With his mouth only inches from hers, she was contemplating a number of things, almost all of which were monumentally stupid. From the way he'd phrased the question, however, she guessed he wasn't entertaining the same carnal thoughts she was.
"Such as?" she asked, just to clarify matters.
"Such as slipping off the way you tried to do last night and tackling those cliffs on your own. I'm a light sleeper, remember?"
"I remember," she said coolly. "If I do decide to slip off, I'll make sure you're out for the count."
"Wrong answer, Flynn." The irritation that had roughened his voice earlier surged back. "When are you going to accept that we're a team?"
Undercover Operations Page 4
