He ended by saying, “When we arrived, I used the sat phone. I’ve let the fighters know we are here and to expect us. I told them we will travel to the camp tomorrow and pay them generously for their information.”
I wondered what it would be like to see the resistance fighter’s camp. I knew I would be logging every detail for a future story. Few journalists were granted access to such an enclave.
Kenny remained silent until the end and then he flicked his lighter, inhaled on his cigarette, exhaled, and said, “Is she coming with us?”
I could feel my face flush. I squirmed, looking at Donovan.
“No,” he said and folded up the map.
“What?” I leaped to my feet.
“You’re not going.”
His tone pissed me off. My face was hot with the anger surging through me. I knew it wasn’t because I was female. My husband wasn’t sexist. It was because he was worried about me. But that was bullshit. I could make the same argument for him not to go. What pissed me off the most was his tone. How he just assumed there wasn’t room for argument about it. I wasn’t one of his goddamn men. He was not my superior.
I grabbed at his arm as he walked past me, but he jerked it away. “This is my operation. I’m in command. You are along for the ride and have to obey my orders. This is a DEA-sponsored operation. Don’t argue with me, Ella.”
His tone was pure steel.
I wanted to argue, but he was right. He was in charge. But that didn’t mean I liked it.
He walked toward the bedrooms. The men filed out one by one passing me.
“Them’s the breaks,” Smitty said in a small voice as he passed, not looking at me. Jesse just gave me a small smile and shrug. Kenny was last. He stopped in front me. He looked me up and down, taking a long puff of his cigarette and then turning his head to blow it behind us. I stared him down. Waiting.
“You’re a liability.”
He said it in a clinical, matter-of-fact voice and then turned on his heel and walked away.
Fury filled me. Fuck him. Fuck Donovan. Fuck all of them. If they thought I was going to sit on my ass in this safe house while they met with resistance fighters they were crazy.
I stomped outside. Three armed guards instantly straightened at attention. I walked to the edge of the jungle and stopped. The foliage was so thick, I’d be lost in seconds. I swatted at bugs surrounding my face. And eaten alive.
I knew the bugs smelled my perfume and hair product, remnants of my life in San Francisco. I needed to adapt to my new surroundings. First thing, a shower, to wash off my insect-attracting scents. Then, I’d make a plan.
AFTER I HOGGED ALL the hot water, I realized I left my clean clothes in the bedroom. That meant I had to walk down the hall to my room in a measly towel.
I peeked outside the bathroom. When I didn’t see anyone, I started to tiptoe down the hall. I had to pass the room that the three other men were staying in.
As I passed the door, I realized it was closed. I could hear low music coming from inside. But then I heard a throat clear. I jerked my head around.
Jesse was standing two doors down, leaning against a doorframe watching me with an unmistakable look of lust.
I swallowed and turned, hurrying to the room at the end where we were staying. I opened it and then turned back. He was still standing there with a hungry look on his face. It sent ripples across my flesh. His raw naked lust made me happy my husband was on the other side of the door. Not because I would ever cheat. Because I wouldn’t.
When Nico and I had our affair, I’d thought Donovan was dead. Even believing I was a widow, I’d had a hard time finally giving myself to another man.
I could never live with the guilt of cheating. But I couldn’t deny the tremor of desire that rippled through me seeing another man want me so boldly. I stepped inside our bedroom and quickly closed the door behind me.
Donovan was waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of whisky. The bottle sat on our nightstand.
He held it up to me. I walked over and stood right between his legs, pressing myself against the edge of the bed, so he had to lean back to look at me. I took the glass from him, downed the rest of the contents and let my towel fall to the floor.
His hands and mouth on my naked body removed every last trace of lust I’d felt for another man and that’s before we even made love. Nobody could ever compare to my husband. Nobody knew my body as well as he did. Nobody knew me like he did.
Later, he was stroking my hair, when he spoke.
“My men are trained for tomorrow’s operation.”
I exhaled. I didn’t want to argue. But I was upset. “Why did I come if I am going to be left behind like a child?”
“If you recall, I didn’t want you here,” he said. “If it was up to me, you’d be safe on some Italian island with the kids.”
Thinking of the kids brought a lump to my throat. I couldn’t think of them. Not right now. The Saint knew how to reach us in an emergency. If we didn’t hear from him that meant everything was fine. I had to believe that.
“What am I supposed to do here, then?”
“When we find out more, when we figure out where El Loro is hiding, we’ll bring in a bigger operation and then you can come with us to get him.”
I sat up excitedly. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll let me come with you to get him, right? You said it. I’m holding you to this.”
“I’m not saying you’ll be breaking down the door where he is,” Donovan said, propping himself up in bed. “But you will be close. And once we have him, you are welcome to confront him. I’d pay money to see you come face-to-face with him.”
After we’d escaped his ranch house, he’d been captured and we’d returned home to America before I could confront him. Donovan knew I had some choice words to say. And a bitch slap to lay on him for good measure.
After dinner, beans, rice and tortillas prepared by the caretaker who had greeted us, we all went to bed. I’d avoided looking Jesse’s way during dinner, feeling guilty as if I’d betrayed Donovan simply by feeling a momentary surge of lust for the man.
But any trace of desire was for my husband. All I wanted to do was have crazy wild sex with him before he left in the pre-dawn hours. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared to death about his plan. I was terrified something would go wrong.
In our bed, after we made love, I tearfully whispered this to Donovan, feeling ashamed at my weakness and fear. He kissed my brow, but didn’t tell me not to worry. Which worried me even more.
“Donovan?” I sat up. I couldn’t see his face. Our room was pitch black once we turned off the lantern on the nightstand.
“He’s never going to go away. If we don’t get him now, we will have to worry about him for the rest of our lives.”
El Loro was known for sometimes seeking vengeance decades later. We would never be able to relax until he was captured.
“I know.” I said in a small voice. “Please promise me you’ll be as careful as possible.
“Of course,” he said.
I laid back down. Soon I heard his soft snoring. I lay there for what felt like hours, trying not to think about the kids. Trying not to think about Donovan’s mission. Only plotting what I could do to help find El Loro. When I finally fell asleep, I was no closer to answers than when I’d began.
Later, I felt Donovan lean over and kiss me goodbye. I hadn’t even heard him wake or get ready. I grabbed for him in the dark and managed to catch hold of his arm. I had so many things I wanted to say, but finally settled on the most important one.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Then he was gone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I fell back asleep and woke to the disconcerting sounds of the jungle around me and a filtered greenish light coming in the one window. The house around me was eerily quiet.
That’s when I realized, something else had awoken me be
sides the insect murmuring of the jungle. Because I heard it again just then—the soft thud of something falling outside my bedroom door. I scrambled to a sitting position in time for my door to be thrown open, allowing light to stream into the room.
The figure in the doorway was a dark silhouette holding a massive gun by his side.
Instinctively, I scrunched back against the headboard.
“Eres Gabriella?” The voice was surprisingly high-pitched. The man sounded like a teenager whose voice hadn’t changed yet. His slight figure, at least what I could tell from his silhouette seemed to back that theory up.
“Si. No hablo Espanol,” I said. It was mostly true.
“Okay. I speak English.” There wasn’t the slightest trace of an accent.
“Are you American?” I asked.
“No, but I’ve lived in your country.”
I relaxed slightly. If he were here to assassinate me for El Loro, I’d probably be dead already. But I wanted to check.
“Did El Loro send you?”
The man spit on the ground. “No, that pendejo is no friend of mine.”
He moved into the room and that’s when I realized he wore a ski mask Two armed men stood behind him with their backs against the wall. All three wore green camouflage fatigues and held assault rifles. The man in my room held a Browning automatic rifle, but wore two pistols in a holster. He was not fucking around.
Resistance fighters.
“What happened to the men who live here?” I said.
“They are fine,” the man said.
“Get dressed. We will not talk in the house.”
“Why should I trust you?”
He shrugged.
My clothes lay in a pile on a nearby chair. I was naked under the sheet.
“Can you turn around?”
To my surprise, he didn’t hesitate. I didn’t think that was very smart until I saw that one of the guards had stepped into the room and was holding his gun on me. Okay. Whatever. I scrambled for my clothes and pulled them on quickly.
“I’m dressed.”
“Let’s go.” He walked away and I followed. I brushed past the two men in the narrow hallway. Both looked straight ahead of them not making eye contact, standing ramrod straight and, expressionless.
From what I’d seen in a few short minutes, I knew the fighters were a well-oiled machine. But I wondered why they were led by a teenage boy.
“Why are you here? My ... colleague,” I avoided the word husband, “and his men are on their way to your camp.”
“Yes, we passed them in the night.”
My heart thudded in my chest. He turned and must’ve seen the look on my face. “Your husband is fine. They did not see us. We thought it best they be away when I came to visit you.”
Was he here to kill me? Nothing made sense.
“Why the mask?” I asked.
I’d grown to despite masks. El Loro had worn a mask. I’d never actually seen his face when he held me captive. It was only when he was arrested that I saw a picture of his scarred face and beady eyes.
This man said, “Only my team that is here with me now has seen my face. Nobody else, not even my fighters, know what I look like under this mask. It is too dangerous otherwise. For me and for them. Get dressed. We will speak outside. I cannot trust this house is not recorded.”
I followed him outside. The guards were huddled against the building, bound and gagged.
“Can you at least let them go?”
He shook his head.
“Are you the one my men were going to see?”
“Not exactly.” He leaned down and struck a match on a rock and then lit a hand-rolled cigarette. “I am the leader.”
I’d sort of figured.
He shrugged and offered me the lit cigarette, withdrawing another one from his shirt pocket. I grabbed it and inhaled deeply.
“Why didn’t you wait for them. Why are you here for me?” I said and exhaled, squinting and wishing I could see his eyes.
“You are the one El Loro wants, no?”
I didn’t answer.
“I’d rather deal with another woman.”
“Another?”
He lifted his mask. He was a she. She winked and flipped back down. Holy shit. I took another puff of my cigarette. She laughed when she saw my realization.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“They would never suspect that the leader who assassinated three dozen of their men was a woman,” she said, exhaling above my head.
Three dozen. Holy shit. A stone-cold killer. It made me nervous.
“Why are you helping me?”
“El Loro is my enemy, as well.”
That made sense.
“What should I call you?” I said.
She hesitated. I wondered if she was debating whether to tell me her real name.
“Eva,” she said. “Let’s take a walk down the road.”
We’d each smoked two cigarettes by the time we returned to the house. She told me how a group of resistance fighters had a run-in with the escaped drug lord and his posse of armed bodyguards in a wild area not far from here.
During the encounter, one of El Loro’s bodyguard had shot one of the fighter’s dead. After a tense standoff, with both sides holding one another at gunpoint, El Loro and his men had retreated, walking backward into the jungle.
One of the fighters raced back to the camp to warn them. Another had planned to stay with his fallen comrade until help came to retrieve the body, but then he remembered a shortcut that would loop around and lead to the path El Loro had retreated down.
The fighter raced to a clearing where two paths converged and climbed a tree. Soon, El Loro and his men passed underneath. At that point, the fighter was forced to return to his fallen comrade. But the path El Loro had taken could only lead to one place.
Eva described it as an ancient ruin site that was believed to be the site of bad spirits. Guatemalans avoided it because they feared stepping foot on the grounds would invite demons into their bodies.
I fingered my necklace with the cross and Miraculous Medal. I wasn’t worried.
“Take me there,” I said as soon as we walked in the house.
“That is why I’m here. I came to get you. We will go after him together.”
“You don’t consider me a liability? Someone who will slow you down or put you in danger?”
I looked her in eyes, deep chocolate pools peering out from the green stocking cap mask.
“Let’s go,” she said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
On my insistence, the resistance fighters untied the guards and barricaded them in the windowless bathroom with water and food.
Eva refused to let them go completely, so I was happy with the concession. I didn’t want them outside, hungry and thirsty and being eaten alive by bugs until Donovan’s party returned.
I left a note on the bed.
“I was offered an opportunity I couldn’t refuse, an armed escort to El Loro’s hideout. Don’t worry. I’m in good hands. I love you.” I hesitated. I didn’t know what else to say so left it at that.
He was going to be furious.
But this was larger than him and our marriage. This was about the survival of our family and our children. With El Loro on the loose, we’d never have a moment of peace or rest. As long as he was out of prison, we’d have to worry about our lives every single second of every day.
It was no way to live.
As soon as we were along a worn jungle path and away from the safe house, Eva ripped off her stocking cap. I was speechless.
And not because she was beautiful, because she was: Dark skinned, dark-eyed, sculpted cheekbones and naturally red lips. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, but wisps fell down around her temples. She could not be more than nineteen years old.
I was speechless that she was letting me see what she looked like. She’d said nobody knew who she was under the mask except her elite team of bodyguards who were
here now. Even the men at her camp didn’t know she was a woman or what she looked like.
“Why are you letting me see your face?”
She smiled, her teeth brilliant white against her dark skin. “I trust you. Those men, at the house, they maybe won’t say who I am. Maybe they will. I didn’t want to kill them, so I made sure they couldn’t see my face.”
“Oh.” She was merciful.
A cold-blooded killer to her enemies, but merciful to the innocent. Good to know.
“You know how to fire a gun?”
I nodded.
“Here.” She handed me a Glock19 9 mm. The same gun I’d used at the range before.
I tucked it into my black backpack, first making sure the safety was on.
Two hours into our hike through thick jungle terrain that tore at my exposed skin and made my legs ache and skin itch, Eva handed me a water bottle. I took it gratefully. I pushed back tendrils of hair that had escaped my ponytail. Sweat poured down my temple. My shirt was soaked. As much as I wanted to pour the water over my head, I knew it was precious and handed it back after a small sip.
“Not much farther.”
The sun was high overhead and beat down on us in some spots. Other spots were shady from jungle foliage. One of her men hiked far in front of us as a scout, so far that most of the time I couldn’t see him. Her other man trailed behind us, again sometimes so far back I couldn’t spot him when I turned.
“Your men are loyal.”
She shrugged. “They are my brothers.”
I shot a glance at her and realized she meant biological brothers. Yes. I could see the resemblance, but the two men were older. She was in charge of her older brothers. My respect for her grew even more.
And my curiosity. She must be a total badass to lead such a tough group of resistance fighters.
“What’s your story?”
“Huh?” She paused, wiping sweat off her brow, looking right through me.
Blessed are the Merciful Page 4
