The 3rd Cycle of the Betrayed Series Collection: Extremely Controversial Historical Thrillers (Betrayed Series Boxed set)

by Carolyn McCray

  The command finally sighed. “They have said a team would come with what they wanted…a pendant. If they get the pendant, they will release the hostages.”

  That freaking necklace.

  What had Lopez gotten them into?

  * * *

  Stark woke up with a start. The first thing he realized was that he was in his room. The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling told him as much. However they weren’t arranged all willy-nilly. Nor were they arranged in the pattern of the Milky Way. That would have been too suburban. No, his stars were laid out in the pattern of the Farscape universe.

  He smiled. No wonder he didn’t get many dates.

  His mother had allowed him to sleep in way too long. After a marathon session at the convention center, he’d come home to get a few hours of shut-eye. Instead it looked like mid-morning out there.

  After getting the lights back up for the fashion show, Stark had found a ton of other corruption in the code. He’d have to go back for another long haul to get it all sorted out. It looked like some moron with an AA from a community college had tried to “improve” on Stark’s code. Like he said, moron.

  Stretching, Stark walked out of his room and down the stairs. Of course, his mother was in the kitchen cooking what smelled like caramel waffles. And people wondered why he still lived at home.

  “Have a seat,” his mother said, flipping some hash browns over.

  “What’s going on in Peru?”

  “The team just got to the command center. They are still formulating a plan of attack.”

  “So it won’t be a problem if I head to the convention center for a few more hours?”

  “No, no, of course not,” his mother said, giving him a wink.

  Stark frowned. “What was that for?”

  “You know…”

  “No, actually I don’t.”

  His mother got that smile she did when she had figured out a math problem before he did. Needless to say Stark wasn’t all that fond of that look.

  “What?”

  “Cama?” his mother said. “She seems nice.”

  Great, just great. His mom had been spying on him while he was in the server room.

  “And a well trained coder,” his mother added.

  He knew that his mom wanted grandkids someday, but this was a stretch.

  “Weren’t you the one who told me to beware beautiful women?”

  “But she can code,” his mother retorted.

  Stark was glad when she slipped a waffle onto his plate, then the hash browns. He dug in. Stark couldn’t remember the last time he ate yesterday. Coding did that to you. Stark had a vague memory of lemon bars, but that was about it.

  “Like you, eh?” Stark said through a mouthful of strawberries and whipped cream.

  “Kind of,” his mother said with that darned smile of hers.

  Stark rolled his eyes as he finished up his breakfast. “I’ve got to get going.”

  Sometimes, even he got annoyed with his mother. Not frequently of course, but occasionally.

  “I set out your best black jeans and your Toucan Sam tee shirt. The lime green one.”

  Okay. Was it worse that his mother still set out his clothes for him, or that she knew exactly what he wanted to wear each day?

  CHAPTER 6

  “You are still here?” a voice asked.

  Bunny wiped her eyes. Apparently she still was at the museum.

  She’d done an all-nighter, just like she had in college, only her body wasn’t like it was in college. It ached in a way she had never known before her stay in the hospital. And she’d spent the night cross-legged on the floor!

  “I guess so,” Bunny said. “Once I get into an ancient civilization, it’s hard for me to pull out.”

  Rojas offered his hand and pulled her up. There were only a few inches between them. He smelled of aftershave and strong coffee. Bunny didn’t want to think about what she smelled like.

  Backing away, she wiped her curls back with her arm. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t set off any alarms.”

  “No you didn’t,” Rojas said. “But it does make me worried about our security team. I have always thought they did not patrol my office much.”

  Bunny grinned, moving even further from the dark professor. He seriously sizzled, even in the morning. The sound of bacon on the grill filled her ears.

  “I should be going,” Bunny said.

  “Ah, but did you learn what you needed to learn?” Rojas asked.

  “Not really,” Bunny had to admit. She knew nearly everything about the Wari culture that predated the Incans by several hundred years. While the Wari established itself around 500 AD, the culture greatly predated that era and was said to extend back to pre-Christian times.

  So, yes, she knew a lot more about pre-Columbian Peru, but how it related to the Brotherhood, not so much.

  Rojas nodded. “I know a shaman who might be able to shed some light on the issue. He lives with his daughter, who owns a restaurant on H Street.”

  Bunny looked down at herself. She was in no shape to show her face on H Street. “Lunch then?”

  Rojas smiled. Did he think this was some kind of date? More importantly did she want it to be a date?

  “Noon it is,” the professor said as he walked out of his office.

  Bunny groaned rising, limping for a few steps on her bad leg.

  This was just a working lunch. Nothing to worry about.

  Which is what she always said just before her romantic misadventures.

  No, she wasn’t going to screw this up again. She pulled out her phone and dialed Davidson. It went straight to voice mail.

  He must be on assignment.

  Just like she was, damn it. For once she wasn’t going to disappoint Davidson.

  But now she had to get home and cleaned up for her non-date.

  * * *

  Rebecca watched as the men changed into their Peruvian army gear. It wasn’t all that much different than American military uniforms. Just the red and gold braid at the shoulder differentiated it from the olive green American counterpart.

  She smoothed her husband’s shoulder crease. “You are going to be careful aren’t you?”

  Brandt just kissed her on the forehead. “It should be over pretty quickly.”

  Rebecca knew the plan. They had told the Brotherhood that they were delivering the necklace, which of course they weren’t.

  Once inside they would overwhelm the enemy and extract the hostages. Brandt made it all sound so simple. Rebecca knew otherwise. She also knew though that there was no one better in the world to pull off this mission.

  Now was not the time to lose faith in her husband. Not after all that he had accomplished. Including the miracle fetus in her belly.

  As she watched her husband’s broad back leave the command center and walk across the street, Rebecca felt the ball that tightened in her belly each time Brandt went into combat. They had always gotten lucky. Okay, maybe not lucky, but Brandt had tossed the dice and they kept coming up sevens.

  A single bad roll and her life would be shattered. How could she raise three kids on her own? And now a fourth or a fifth?

  Life was so much simpler when Brandt was with Homeland Security. Of course he had been bored out of his skull. You could just see the discontent in his face. Someday the man might have to retire, but now was not the time for it. He still had plenty of fight left in him.

  She fell in love with a military man. It wasn’t fair to ask him to stop being a military man once she married him. No matter the danger or the kids. Brandt had to be Brandt.

  Rebecca knew a lot of wives who constantly complained about their men being out in the field. While Rebecca didn’t exactly relish Brandt being gone, she loved the man who came home to her. He was vibrant, attentive, and alive. Apparently the guy needed to face death to feel the most alive.

  Like right now. She could see the tension in his muscles, but it wasn’t anxiety so much as it was anticipation. Not about the
gunfire and battle so much as being able to rescue people. It was the moral victory that kept Brandt coming back for more.

  Ki and Brandt were joined by a dozen Peruvian guards. Way more back-up than Brandt was used to.

  This should be fun.

  * * *

  Davidson didn’t like it. He couldn’t put his finger on what he didn’t like, but he was not a happy camper. This should be a super simple, straightforward takedown. But weren’t those the ones that went the most sideways?

  It wasn’t the gunmen in the crowd. That was to be expected. He already had a shot matrix to take most of them out, if it came down to that. He figured three minutes to down them all. That was containable.

  No, it was the embassy itself.

  “Stark, what kind of heat signatures are you getting?” he asked into his mic.

  “Sorry, Stark is out, but I’ve been monitoring the embassy. There are the correct number of signatures, they have been pretty quiet. Not a lot of movement.”

  That was what Davidson was getting. Shouldn’t there be more movement in there? Shouldn’t the enemy be gearing up for Brandt’s entry?

  “Stop!” Davidson barked, going solely on his gut.

  He glanced down to the road. Brandt and the rest were just a few feet from the closed gate of the embassy.

  “Report,” Brandt grunted in Davidson’s ear.

  Unfortunately Davidson didn’t have anything to report.

  “There’s something wrong inside,” Davidson stated, knowing he sounded lame to his own ear.

  “Okay…”

  “Sorry, just take it slow,” Davidson finally finished.

  “Will do,” Brandt replied, stepping forward, pushing open the embassy gate.

  This was just wrong. Too wrong.

  Screw this thermal imaging. Davidson stood, aiming at a curtained side window. Why hadn’t they thrown up some plywood or something? Why hadn’t the enemy barricaded themselves in better?

  This wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t the plan at all. As a matter of fact, he was pretty much disobeying a direct order. But if his suspicions were correct, he was saving the entire team.

  He shot. The sound seemed to startle everyone on the ground. Those gunmen in the crowd reacted by putting their hands on the butt of their guns. None drew, not yet.

  “What is going on?” Brandt demanded, but Davidson didn’t verbally answer.

  Instead he shot again, blowing the window out, shredding the curtain. Those weren’t people in there. They were manikins which must have been rigged with heat generators.

  Worse, behind the fake people were crates of TNT.

  “It’s going to blow,” Davidson yelled into his mic.

  Brandt and Ki turned on their heels immediately, bellowing for the Peruvian soldiers to get back, but the men balked, not understanding the danger. Davidson aimed and shot a few well-placed bullets at their feet. That got them moving.

  The gunmen decided it was time to make their appearance. Davidson braced on his rear foot, ready for the kick. This was going to have to be some quick shooting.

  He aimed at the furthest man who pulled his gun and shot into the command center. Davidson chose him because as he fired, he would lose accuracy, so best to sweep outward to inward.

  The man dropped in his tracks. Davidson moved to the next, then the next. He didn’t stop until he’d downed every gunman he could see from his position. There were others, but Brandt and Ki weren’t slouching.

  Davidson moved to try to get a better angle on the few remaining shooters. A bullet hit at Davidson’s feet, ricocheting off the tar surface.

  Someone was shooting at him. How rude.

  Lifting up his rifle, he searched the far away skyscrapers. That had been a long, long distance shot. And it had come that close to hitting him? That was some shooting. Davidson put the tip of his toe at the end of the ricochet mark, lining up exactly on the trajectory. He couldn’t see the enemy, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take a shot.

  Digging his heel in, Davidson fired. Did he hit the man? Did he not? Davidson might never know, but no other bullets came in his direction.

  Time to turn his attention back to Embassy Row. What was the point of the whole elaborate ruse? Did they plan to blow up the pendant?

  Or did they know that Brandt never planned to give it to them. Did they know who wore it? Was their target Lopez this whole time?

  “Lopez!” Davidson called out. There was no answer. “Lopez, respond!”

  * * *

  Damn it.

  He should have seen this coming. The Brotherhood wanted the pendant and here Brandt sent it off with Lopez, unprotected.

  He had a slightly more urgent problem though. He couldn’t find Rebecca. A lot of bullets had flown through the command center and his wife wasn’t to be found.

  “Rebecca!” he shouted, digging through the debris. Ki stood guard, ready for any attacker to make an appearance. Brandt kicked a table out of the way. “Rebecca!”

  “Here,” a voice squeaked out from under a pile of electronics.

  A hand waved from under the rubble. Brandt pushed aside the heavy equipment to pull his wife out. She gripped him in a tight hug.

  “So what was that about?”

  Brandt was pretty sure he knew, but didn’t have time to explain. “Stay here. We’ll come back to get you.”

  He was proud of his wife. She’d been with him enough out in the field. She didn’t question. She didn’t argue, she just got back down under the electronics.

  Brandt turned to Ki. “Ready for a run?”

  “Always, sir.”

  There were plenty of military vehicles around, but those would be way too conspicuous for their task.

  “Do you see him yet?” Brandt asked Davidson. The sniper, once again had saved their lives. This time not so much with his aim, but his instinct. Brandt never should have moved forward if Davidson was concerned. Lesson learned. “Davidson?”

  “Sorry, sir, not yet.”

  Brandt would stop and kick himself if he had at all the time. Lopez would have circled the embassy to stay near in case they needed a quick extraction. They would duplicate his route, hoping to find a suitable car if they needed one.

  For right now with all the chaos in the streets, running seemed the best course.

  Ki pulled ahead, taking up his position. Brandt had only worked with the guy a few hours and already liked the man.

  * * *

  Davidson sucked in a few deep breaths then took off, gaining speed as he jumped from one building to the other. Luckily these Peruvian buildings were stacked close together. He landed lightly on his feet, taking off again as soon as he landed.

  He needed a new vantage point.

  Lopez was out there somewhere. How many minutes had it been between Lopez dropping them off and the discovery of the enemy’s plan? Five minutes? Six? There hadn’t been any shooting during that lag time.

  How could they have captured Lopez? The man was a speed demon and super paranoid, so how could they have gotten close enough to him to snatch him?

  Davidson leapt another breach. This time he stopped at the corner of the building and swept the area with his scope. Still no sign of their driver. He did a quarter turn and jumped to a cattycorner roof. He needed a full 360 degree view of the area.

  He had to find Lopez.

  For Maria. For Lopez’s unborn girl, Davidson had to find his teammate.

  The Peruvian army below was still in a state of utter confusion and disarray. Good thing there hadn’t been a full-scale attack. Davidson moved past the Embassy district and moved into the more commercial area of downtown Lima. The conflict had spilled out into this district. People were running down the street, fleeing from the fighting.

  Not far down the street was the ancient bullfighting ring of Acho.

  Davidson cocked his head. Did he hear the strain of an engine? The strain only Lopez could put on a vehicle?

  “Sir, I believe Lopez is in the bullfighting ring,�
� Davidson said just before he jumped another roof. He could stay aloft for most of the distance. A nice apartment building was four stories and over-looked the ancient stone-built ring.

  There were three churches between here and there.

  That was Lima for you.

  * * *

  Brandt had to admit keeping up with Ki was something of a chore. The guy had kicked it up into another gear and Brandt was puffing.

  Luckily he could see the bullfighting ring. It was about three stories tall and looked to be made out of stone bricks.

  More and more detail of the ring became apparent the closer they pulled. There seemed to be a main entrance with a large arch. Brandt almost asked why Davidson had thought Lopez was in the bullfighting ring, but then he heard it. The whine of the engine. The screams of men mowed down.

  It all made sense now.

  Ki entered under the arch first, a few more lengths ahead than Brandt would have liked.

  After steps up, there was a ramp down. The bullfighting ring came into sharp view. Ki pulled to a stop at the sight. Lopez was at the far end of the ring, revving the Grieve’s engine while sitting on the brake. His rear tires spun in the earth just like a bull might dig at the ground with his hooves.

  If Lopez was the bull, there were five matadors aiming at him with automatic rifles. How had they not taken Lopez down yet? The windshield was a network of cracks from bullet holes and the front grill of the Grieve was punched full of them as well, yet it still seemed that Lopez was winning.

  There were half a dozen bodies littered around the ring. And the remaining seven gunmen weren’t looking all that good either. One was leaning against the stone wall, his leg obviously shattered.

  Most of the others had tattered clothes and blood streaking down at least one appendage. Brandt almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

  Ki raised his gun. Of course he raised his gun because that was the logical thing to do. But not the thing to do in this situation.

  “No need,” Brandt said.

  “But --” Ki started to say. “It is seven against Lopez.”

  “He’d be pissed if we intervened.”

  Ki’s eyebrow went up.

  “Trust me. Just watch and enjoy.”

  The man still didn’t seem all that convinced.