by Joanna Wayne
“No, but the same guy who I talked to this morning called back.”
“Rafa?”
“I can’t swear to it, but it sounds like him.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“You get the pleasure of riding in the trunk again.”
“Oh, goody.”
“I’m to have you locked away and be ready to roll by seven-thirty. I’ll receive another call then to tell me where to deliver you.”
She spit out a seed. “Is that it?”
Her ability to keep her emotions under control continued to amaze him. She’d had a few shaky moments when they were leaving the ranch, but since then she’d acted as if dancing with danger was a favorite pastime.
Rio sat down beside her. “I get a bonus for doing such a good job of imprisoning you.”
“You earned it. How many kidnappers wash their victim’s back with such enthusiasm? Was there more?”
“The caller said the Collingsworths have met all our demands and he doesn’t expect any complications tonight.”
“Then he’s in for a surprise or two.”
Rio took Jaime’s right hand and wrapped it in both of his. “I know you’re working hard not to let this get you down, but you don’t have to put up a front with me.”
“I’m not. If this was just about me, I might be. But it’s bigger than that. It’s about recovering that canister.”
“And getting Buerto?”
“Okay, I admit it, Rio. There’s a personal element to this. He used me and he used my family. He caused my mother to have a heart attack. I would love to see him locked away for the rest of his natural life.
“But mostly I’ll just be glad when the action starts. I hate this waiting around.”
Zach’s remark about her being an adrenaline junkie might have been more truthful than he’d realized.
“Just be careful tonight, Jaime. We’ll all be there to be sure things stay under control, so I don’t want to see any risk-taking on your part.”
“That advice from a loose cannon?”
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
“You know, you’d think even the cartel would have standards. If Buerto was running the kidnapping operation, he did a shoddy job of it. He left bodies lying around. He left files on his computer that a novice hacker like yourself could break into. It took him three days to get his act together when my brothers were ready to pay the ransom during the first twenty-four hours.”
“I’m not that much of a novice,” he said. But she made a damn good point now that he thought about it.
In fact, it was so good that it should have occurred to him before now. The complexity of the coded files fit the standard modus operandi. The way the kidnapping was being handled didn’t.
To begin with, they should have had someone more competent than Luke helping guard Jaime. They likely had no choice about using Poncho since he had the contact to get the RKO, but there should have been cameras and mics installed in the cabin so that they would know what was going on at all times.
It made it difficult to buy that this was a drug-lord operation. Yet he knew Poncho worked with the cartel. The two of them had been teamed to smuggle drugs across the border and collect cash from a couple of dealers just two nights before the abduction.
Poncho had been given the lead in that operation. That’s why Rio hadn’t questioned his authority when they’d kidnapped Jaime.
“You look perplexed,” Jaime said. “Something rotten in Denmark?”
“I don’t know, but you may have hit on something smelly in south Texas.” He explained the conundrum to her as he saw it.
“Who in the cartel normally issued you orders?”
“Some guy who called himself Carlos. I’m sure it wasn’t his real name.”
“Is it too risky to call him, just to feel him out, I mean? You wouldn’t have to mention the kidnapping to him. Wait and see if he brings it up.”
Jaime’s quick grasp of the situation was astounding. “I doubt I can get through to him. He gives me an emergency number when I’m taking care of business for him, but it’s a different number every time.”
“If he didn’t give you a new number, maybe he expects you to use the same one.”
“Not likely since Poncho took the original phone and issued me a new one just before we arrived at your house for the kidnapping.”
“So you don’t have Carlos’ number at all?”
“Sure I do. I have all the numbers he’s given me listed in my personal phone that Poncho didn’t know about, the untraceable one I use to talk with Cutter and the CIA.”
“The investigation business is high tech. I’m surprised you guys still use guns.”
“Guns are like women. We never tire of them.”
He tried the most recent number first. To his surprise, Carlos answered. Rio identified himself and waited.
“Where have you been, man? I’ve called you a dozen times.”
So Carlos hadn’t been in on the kidnapping. “I got hold of some bad tequila,” he lied, making up the tall tale as he went. “Had this killing pain in my head. Didn’t even know where I was until a couple of hours ago.”
“You must have shared your bad booze with Poncho. I can’t get in touch with him, either. I figured the two of you must be on a drunk together. It’s okay. An occasional night of drinking is expected. Just be sure it never coincides with a job.”
“No way, man. I told you, I’m disciplined. Would have gotten kicked out of the SEALs long before I did if I hadn’t known how to follow orders.”
“I heard you made a few orders of your own.” Carlos laughed. “When you see Poncho, tell him to call in. I have a job for you two. A big job.”
“On the border?”
“Right.”
“What do you need us to do?”
“I’ll let you know when the time is right. In the meantime, stay off the tequila—and stay available.”
“I’ll be ready and I’ll pass the word to Poncho if I see him.”
Not that he would. Nor would Poncho be drinking any more tequila.
He explained the call to Jaime.
“Then Buerto is running his own show.”
“Him and Poncho, to a point. But the CIA picked up that information on Detonation Day through their usual surveillance channels so I’m not sure how Buerto’s operation fits into that.”
“Don’t you think you should pass that new information on to the CIA and Cutter?”
He nodded.
She stood and stepped off the porch. “I’m going to take a walk down to the lake. I have a few fond memories of water, a quilt and moonlight I’d like to relive before I leave this roach-infested paradise forever.”
“Give me five minutes and I’ll join you.” He watched her walk away, wondering how in the world he’d ever gotten lucky enough to have her fall for him even for a day. He went in the house for a bottle of cold water.
He called Dan Camp and filled him in, finishing in plenty of time to keep his rendezvous with Jaime except that Dan had other things on his mind.
“Do you still think you can get information out of Poncho’s girlfriend?”
“Does that mean your guys can’t?”
“No, it only means they haven’t as yet.”
“My time’s running out here, but I’ll give it a whirl if you can connect us in the next five minutes or so.”
“Hold on, and let me see what I can do.”
Dan was back in under a minute. “Her name’s Mary Green. She’s Caucasian, thirty-two years old, never married, has two kids ages two and four, one that she claims was fathered by Poncho.
“You’ll be on the speaker in the interrogation room. She thinks you’re behind the glass watching her. I don’t give squat about why she did or didn’t do anything. I just want her to admit she stole the canister for Poncho and then tell us whom he gave it to. By the way, she doesn’t know he’s dead.”
“Does she call him Poncho or Diego?”
“Poncho. We
’re hooked up here.”
“Let’s get started, then.”
“Okay,” Dan said. “Ready. Set. And the speaker is on.”
Rio felt the intensity in every muscle, his body reacting to the life-or-death urgency of getting this right. He wished he were there to observe the woman’s body movements, read her facial expressions and look into her eyes. Going on verbal expressions alone put him at a severe disadvantage.
He played her for a few minutes, telling her he knew Poncho, making her believe he was on her side. When she warmed up to him, he upped the ante.
“I’d hate to see you go to jail, Mary. Who’d take care of your kids?”
“They can’t send me to jail. I haven’t done anything.”
“You know Poncho’s going to squeal on you when they pinch him. I like him, but he looks after number one. That’s just Poncho.”
“He’s looking out for me, too.”
“Really? From Cancun?”
“He’s not in Cancun.”
“Are you sure? I heard that he was. I picture him lying on the beach buying margaritas for some hottie in a bikini.”
“He wouldn’t have gone to Cancun without me.”
“Have you talked to him today?”
“No, but—”
“Did you try to call him?”
“He wouldn’t—”
“Call him. Ask him where he is.”
Silence.
“He sold that canister you stole for him, Mary, and he’s rolling in dough.”
“You’re lying. Buerto wouldn’t give him the money. He was supposed to but then he wouldn’t pay off, so…”
“So what, Mary? Was Poncho going to threaten him? You can’t blame Poncho. A deal is a deal.”
“Buerto made us do it.” Her voice broke. “He kept pushing and pushing and pushing.”
“How did Buerto even know you had access to RKO?”
“We met him in a bar down in Brownsville one night. I had a few drinks and I guess I must have mentioned it.”
“Did Poncho mention Detonation Day?”
“No. I don’t think so. Not that night.”
“But he did tell Buerto about the planned mass murders?”
“He might have mentioned it. But it wasn’t his fault. Buerto was on Poncho constantly, calling him all the time, buying him drinks and even giving him a fancy watch. Then he offered Poncho and me a million dollars if I’d steal a canister of RKO.”
“A million dollars is a lot of money.”
“That’s what I mean, all that money. How could we turn it down? Buerto kept pushing until finally Poncho said we had to do it.”
“So Buerto isn’t with any of the drug cartels?”
“No. He’s a con man. He’s worked all over Mexico and even southern California. He just talks people into doing things and giving him things. He’s bad and he doesn’t let up.”
“There’s your defense, Mary. The guy pushed until you mentally broke down. You help us get the RKO back and the CIA will know you didn’t mean to do it. But you have to tell them now, before people die from the chemical. Once they do, no one can save you.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“You did it, Mary. We all know you did it. Now it’s either face an electric chair or admit that you gave it to Poncho for him to sell to Buerto Arredondo.”
“No, I didn’t do it.”
“Okay, guys. Lock her up. She’d rather fry than raise her kids. Poncho will love her for that. He’ll probably send her a thank-you card. When he gets the time.”
Rio heard a door open and then clang shut in the background.
“Buerto has the RKO. He’s selling it to a Mexican drug cartel.” Mary started to cry. “I didn’t want to do it, but Poncho was going to leave me if I didn’t. Now he’s left me anyway.”
Rio put down the phone. The CIA would take it from here. They’d have gotten the confession out of her anyway eventually. Rio was just glad he’d gotten a piece of the action.
He glanced at his watch. It was ten before seven, still time for him to walk down to the lake. He’d reached the door when he heard the outburst.
“Get your filthy hands off me, Buerto.”
Rio’s heart slammed into his chest. He stepped onto the porch. Buerto was dragging Jaime toward the cabin.
Rio pulled his gun. “Let go of her or I shoot to kill.”
Buerto held an open vial of liquid over Jaime’s head. “Kill me and you’ll watch Jaime die before your eyes.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jaime was forced to ride in the backseat, handcuffed to Buerto, while Rio drove. The handcuffs were to make certain she couldn’t make a run for it and escape his threatening vial.
She knew from Rio’s reactions that he blamed himself for this, but it was no more his fault than it was hers. She’d been lost in thoughts of Rio and hadn’t heard Buerto sneak up on her through the woods.
Buerto was winning this battle. He wouldn’t win the war. They’d arrest him and recover the RKO. She just wasn’t sure how they were going to do it.
In the meantime, she detested the very sight, smell and voice of Buerto.
He slipped an arm around her shoulder and let his fingers brush her nipples through her shirt. She knocked his hand away.
“Does that mean you haven’t missed me, Jaime? I suppose you’ve been too busy making out with Rio the pig.”
“I haven’t missed you, Buerto. I don’t miss murderers and men who plot to destroy lives.”
“Yet you fell for this animal who hired on to kidnap you. Have you made love to him? You have. I can tell by the way you look at him.
“I treated you like a princess for months and you only put me off with excuses of not wanting to move too fast. It took days for you to let the pig into your bed.”
“You used me, Buerto. Rio protected me. It’s a difference you probably can’t even comprehend.”
“You insult me and now the two of you plot against me. It might have worked if Poncho hadn’t warned me that Rio was falling for you.”
“And you killed him for his honesty? Or did you kill him because he wanted the million dollars you owed him?”
“I killed him because he was dispensable, just like you are to me now, Jaime.”
“I was always dispensable to you. You came to the party the night we met simply to set me up.”
“But then I met you and I wanted you for myself. I thought I might win you over and there would be no need to kidnap you. We could have lived the good life on your money. But you were never into me.”
Thank God for that. “Where’s my Harley? And my BMW?”
“Well taken care of.”
Rio checked them out through the rearview mirror. “When’s Detonation Day, Buerto? Isn’t that your baby? Sell the idea to the cartels and then provide them with a little handy dandy canister of fun and games?”
“You flatter me, Rio. I didn’t dream up Detonation Day, I just took advantage of an opportunity, the way you did this week with Jaime. But the CIA got hold of the information, so now it’s all been called off.”
“And you lost a sale. But that still leaves you the Collingsworth money. That’ll buy a lot of tequila.”
“One never totally loses a sale as long as he possesses the merchandise. Turn right at the next road,” Buerto said. “Jaime and I have a plane to catch.”
Jaime’s confidence took a nosedive as they started down the deserted road. She’d imagined them going to a small airport where there would be people around. She hadn’t thought it through. If they had a landing site on their spread for a small plane, surely other ranches did, too.
“The road dead-ends ahead. Turn left when it does,” Buerto said. “We won’t have long to wait. In fact Langston should be waiting on our arrival.”
Rio slowed the car. “Jaime hasn’t done anything to deserve this. Leave her and take me with you. I’ll work for you. I’m good at what I do. I can find a buyer for the RKO.”
“Sorry, Rio, but deadl
y chemicals are easy to sell. New offers are coming in every day. Terrorists love its qualities and some of them are suicidal enough to actually use it. I’m just waiting until the price is right.”
“You have the heart of a devil,” Jaime said.
“Yes, my dear, but as soon as Langston’s aircraft touches down in Mexico City, you and your brothers will have no heart at all.”
Rio made the turn. There would be no waiting. The Cessna had already landed.
PANIC WAS MOUNTING FAST as Rio stopped near Langston’s plane, parking so that his lights would illuminate a path to the door. Langston and Zach would have on the night goggles and with the full moon, that was all they’d need. His goggles were back at the cabin, as useless to him as their plans.
“Open the door for us,” Buerto ordered.
Rio did and held it while Jaime got out. He squeezed her hand quickly. He should say something to reassure her, but his mind drew a total blank.
Buerto scooted out of the car after Jaime. “Now put my bag on my shoulder.”
Rio hesitated. Buerto stared at him and tilted the open vial.
Not willing to risk a spill, Rio carefully lifted the small bag and placed the strap over Buerto’s shoulder. Rio was certain it contained the missing canister, yet there was nothing he could do but let Buerto walk away with it.
“Take the bullhorn from the front seat beside you and warn Jaime’s brothers that the two of us are coming on board. They are to stay in their seats. One wrong move by anyone and enough RKO will be spilled on Jaime to ensure her instant death.”
Rio did as he was ordered, his mind frantically searching for a way to keep Jaime and that canister off of the airplane.
Plans are only blueprints to be filled in as needed by true leaders.
His first team leader had drilled that into Rio’s head and he’d never forgotten it. He’d made lots of failed plans work under enemy fire. He had to find a way to do it one more time. He could not lose Jaime this way.
He stepped out of the car and watched as Buerto and Jaime walked toward the plane. He got a glimpse of the minimal landing strip. It appeared to be a road to nowhere, perhaps the site of a housing development that died before it got past the road-building stage. That had happened in several places when the housing market crashed.
