Maggie's Revenge

by Jacquie Biggar

  The door of the other vehicle—a car—opened and the dark figure of a man stepped out. Maggie stiffened, her pulse beating a battle-ready tattoo under her skin. He took a step forward and Kim cried, “Shoot him. What are you waiting for? Kill them!”

  Maggie tightened her grip on the gun, her entire body tensed for action, but then something about the width of those shoulders and the way the newcomer moved triggered a memory. In the next instant, she was out of the pickup and running into the waiting arms of her partner.

  Adam lifted Maggie into the air and swung her around and around, his nose buried in her thick, dark braid. Tears dampened his neck, and he could feel the moisture pooling in his own eyes, but he didn’t give a shit.

  They’d found her. They’d really found her.

  He slowed his momentum and let her body drift to the ground—she was thin, scarily so—and grasped her beloved face between his palms. “God, Mags. You scared the hell out of me. I was beginning to think we’d never see you again.” He used his thumbs to wipe the tears on her cheeks and gently kissed her brow. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered, staring into her moonlit eyes.

  “Are you real?” She half-laughed, half-cried and smacked him on the arm. “What took you so long?”

  “Ow,” he joked. “Be nice to your rescuers.” He tucked her under his arm and moved aside as Amanda stepped from the car. “You must be special, they even called out the big-wigs.”

  Amanda gave him an annoyed glance before moving forward to shake Maggie’s trembling fingers. “Special Agent Holt. It’s good to see you all in one piece. Your partner has been worried.” She hesitated. “We have a lot to talk about…”

  “Amanda,” Adam warned, squeezing Maggie closer to the warmth of his body.

  Amanda glared. “But, it can wait until we get back to Texas. Be assured, Agent Holt, your government appreciates your sacrifice.”

  Maggie nodded, her gaze blank. “Thank you, Ma’am. My report will be ready.” She pulled free of Adam’s hold and waved toward the pickup. “There are two hostages in the truck. They’re young and scared and have been through Hell so take it easy on them, will you?” Her expression changed to one of immense sadness. “Someone I cared about—she’s dead—up on the plateau. Can we take her with us, please? I don’t want to leave her there.”

  Amanda’s eyes lit with sympathy. “Of course. One of the men will bring her down. Is there anything else we need to know right now?”

  Maggie straightened her shoulders, taller than her commanding officer, but not as intimidating. “There are four dead men in the Humvee back there.” She waved a hand in the general area. “There’s another one, possibly two, on the hill leading up to my friend. One man escaped. He was chasing us on foot just before you arrived. I think you scared him away.” The relief was evident in her voice.

  Adam swung her around to face him, checking her face and body—as much as he could in the dark—for injuries. “You make it sound like a war-zone,” he said, trying to inject some levity to the situation before he exploded.

  She smiled up at him and his anger dissolved like smoke. “Just another day for the DEA’s finest.”

  He shook his head, unwilling to laugh it off. “You could have been hurt. Or worse. When I think of…”

  “Your partner is a tough lady. She wouldn’t let some dirty banditos get the best of her. We better get a move on though. There will be more where these creeps came from.” Frank spoke from the shadows on the other side of the car.

  Maggie tensed. “Who’s there?” Her brow furrowed. “I… I know that voice.”

  Adam frowned at the electricity that surged between his partner and his friend.

  Frank strode around the front of the car, hands out at his sides. He stopped a few feet away. “Hello, Magdalena. I’ve come to take you home.”

  27

  The moment Maggie ran into the light streaming from his headlights, Frank’s pulse skyrocketed. He didn’t even remember shoving the Buick into park, or exiting in time to witness her and Adam’s joyous reunion. The little green monster tightened the muscles across his neck and shoulders, but he was helpless to turn away.

  She was thinner than he remembered, gaunt almost. Older. As though the months of undercover work had fundamentally affected her, maybe more than even she realized. Yet. Sooner or later, she’d crash. He only hoped she understood that she didn’t have to travel that road alone. There were people who could help.

  He could help.

  He’d suffered PTSD himself and knew the signs; emotional numbness, jumpiness, anger. The ranch had saved his sanity back then. He still occasionally suffered from flashbacks, but thanks to some professional therapy and his horse he could call himself a survivor. There were too many that never made it that far. He’d been toying with the idea of opening the ranch up for rehabilitation and had heard of a couple of others with a good success rate. He wanted to make a difference if he could. Maybe if someone had done that for Cam after their father died…

  Adam’s well-meaning platitudes were making her uncomfortable, Frank could see it in the darting movement of her eyes and the tension radiating from her slim body. Time to defuse the situation.

  He stepped around the car, his hands away from his body to show he meant no harm. She may not even remember him from Las Vegas. “Hello, Magdalena, I’ve come to take you home.”

  Maggie frowned. “Do I… oh yeah, you’re the rancher from Texas, right?” She nodded toward Adam. “And the SEAL Team chief for this reprobate and his buddy, Jared Martin—who wasn’t the most accommodating of suspects I’ve ever interrogated.” She smiled and Frank’s heart kicked him in the chest.

  “Yes, ma’am. Reprobate’s a good name for these two. I would hope you don’t lump me under the same category, though.” Frank tipped his head. “I reckon we best get a move on before your company comes a-callin’. If you’ll move your friends to the car, Adam and I will take a little hike up that there hill. Shouldn’t take us long.”

  He waited for her slow nod, then began the trek, Adam close behind. They’d only gone a few feet when he halted and caught her worried expression. “We’ll whistle when we return. Just keep your weapon ready, okay? Don’t worry, whoever it is, we’ll make sure he pays.”

  He turned and walked into the still-dark desert. Adam strode along silently for a few minutes, but Frank could tell he was itching to say something so he paused at the base of the hill. “Got a problem?”

  Adam shook his head, then changed it to an emphatic nod, his blond hair falling over his brow. “What are you doing making promises we might not be able to keep? And since when is there a we anyway?”

  Since a woman with long, dark hair and eyes that saw too much had bulldozed her way into his life and emblazoned a trail straight to his heart. That’s how long. Frank shrugged. “Thought you wanted some help, that’s all.” He listened, but other than a soft breeze soughing off the nearby bushes, the area seemed secure.

  Adam raised his brow. “Well, yeah. I just assumed you’d given up… you know, the life.”

  Frank frowned, beset by those pesky dissatisfaction bugs again. He enjoyed ranch work and knew his mother rested easier with him home, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he missed the team and the missions. Knowing operations they accomplished made the world a safer place? Hooyah.

  He took lead, climbing the steep embankment with ease thanks to hours of hauling hay bales and flipping cows for branding. Ranching was better for the body than any gym he’d ever entered.

  He waited until they crested the hill to answer. “You ever wish you could go back in time?” If he could it’s for damn sure he would have made more effort to listen to his brother’s silent cries for help.

  The plateau was small, maybe twenty-by-twenty, the woman’s body they’d come to retrieve near the edge of a sheer dropoff looking out over the valley and their vehicles in the distance. Frank gave Magdalena credit, she’d chosen well. It would be close to impossible—unless yo
u were in spec ops—to sneak up on her from here.

  “Yeah,” Adam replied, kicking at the dead coals of a small fire pit with his boot. “I’d skip getting shot next time.”

  Frank’s lips quirked. “Not a fan of the duct work then?”

  Adam snorted. “Hardly. I wish…” He blew out a breath. “Sometimes, I wish I’d never agreed to working for the DEA. Especially, while I was under your command, sir. It stank of duplicity and I hated it. The worst was lying to Jared. We were buds, he deserved better than that. You all did.”

  Frank nodded. He carried around his own share of guilt and understood how the weight could wear a man down. “My advice, let it go. You were doing your job, no more, no less. Any one of us would have done the same. Never once did you let us down, and don’t you forget it. It took a long time to recover after we thought you’d died. You were a valuable member of the unit. Our brother.”

  Adam stared at him, a shocked look on his pretty-boy face. “Wow, Chief, that’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard from you.” He grinned. “Should we sing Kumbaya and hug now?”

  Frank scowled, but inside warmth filled his chest. It was true. His team had become his family. They counted on each other to survive out there, it was impossible not to create bonds. Maybe he should have told them sooner how important they were to him, he’d just assumed they knew. Better late than never.

  “Okay, enough with the tender shit,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let’s pick up our cargo and get under way.”

  The blonde was probably a looker at one time, but, like Maggie, she hadn’t had an easy last few months. A scar ran from her brow down over her cheek. Collarbones jutted from translucent skin, and bruises dotted her bare legs. Frank shrugged out of his shearling lined jean jacket and covered the poor woman. Not that she needed the warmth now. Rigor was presenting in her neck and jaw muscles, turning her face into a caricature of itself.

  He carefully lifted her into his arms and thanked Christ it wasn’t Magdalena.

  Adam gave voice to Frank’s thoughts. “This could have easily been…”

  “Don’t,” Frank growled. “It wasn’t. And now that we have her back, we’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen.” He brushed by Adam, the girl’s weight barely noticeable in his arms.

  “Why are you so invested?”

  Adam’s low enquiry froze him in his tracks. He could say, “Sorry, man, I’ve fallen for your girl.” Somehow, he had a feeling it would put a serious wedge in their friendship. One they wouldn’t recover from this time.

  He decided on a half-truth. “Not long after my father died my younger brother, Cameron, disappeared. We searched everywhere. Put up reward posters. Went to the police. Didn’t matter, he was gone. I’ve always wondered if he was snatched, like her.” He dropped his chin to look at the girl. “Her parents are going to be destroyed by this, but I think they’ll also be relieved. At least now they have closure, you know?”

  Adam patted his back. “That sucks. I only lost Mags for a while and it was tough, I can’t imagine forever.” He started off down the trail. “Let’s go catch us an asshole.”

  Yeah. Frank followed his friend. “Let’s do that.”

  28

  How were they going to explain the body in the trunk?

  The closer to the United States border they drove, the more anxious Maggie became. Chenglei would have men on the lookout for their arrival. If they made it into the US he lost control, and above all the warlord demanded respect. If she escaped he would lose credibility with his people, something he could ill afford.

  She detested the thought of Olga lying in the back of the car like it was a tin coffin so she concentrated instead on the conversation going on behind her. Or she tried to, it was slightly distracting being wedged between Thor and Wolverine in the front seat. Both men had the muscles of a warrior, the beauty of a god, and the intensity of a soldier. She could be forgiven if her heart did a little flip-flop every time the car’s movement squeezed them together in a holy-hotness sandwich.

  Thor—Adam—was doing his best to charm the women in the rear seat, throwing a beefy arm behind her back and leaning around to exchange remarks with SAC Rhinehold. Maggie didn’t remember the two of them getting along so well before, but there was a certain hint of attraction in the air now. She hoped that was true. He deserved a good relationship. Just not with her. Their time was past, they were different people now. She wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from the trauma she’d been through in the last few months.

  By contrast, Adam’s friend brooded. That was the only way she could describe it. He hadn’t said more than two words since he’d carried Olga to the car, gently laying her friend in the trunk and tucking his jacket around her shoulders. His kindness had brought a lump to her throat. And now, as she covertly eyed his long, lean fingers expertly guiding them through a possible cartel minefield, her stomach tightened. Not from fear. Oddly enough, she wasn’t scared of him. Maybe a bit awed. This man had led his team on countless missions. He’d done everything in his considerable power to keep them safe and bring them home. He’d honored the SEAL mantra when any of his men were injured, even if it endangered his own life.

  No man left behind.

  Adam swore without the chief he would have died in Afghanistan and Nick Kelley, a close friend, said the same. Frank Stein was a hero.

  He reminded her of the old western movies her mother used to watch. John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Gary Cooper. Men’s men. The strong, silent type that always got the job done and saved the day. She’d been drawn to him from the moment they’d met. He’d blown into Vegas and rescued his buddy, Jared Martin, out of the nefarious grasp of the LVMPD and her unit of the DEA almost before they knew what had happened. He’d then proceeded to help take down the Russian syndicate behind Martin’s arrest and saved a couple of kids from a fate possibly worse than death. She’d learned of his heroics from within Chenglei’s compound after he picked her off the street to become his personal mistress.

  Maggie focused on the terrain they were covering, shutting down the images flooding her brain of her time spent under the Sinaloan tyrant. “How much further?” she croaked, flinching at the tensing of the leg so close to her own.

  Frank hesitated, then lightly tapped the steering wheel to bring her attention around to him. “An hour, give or take. You okay?”

  Was she?

  Maybe after she turned in her evidence and saw that sonofabitch locked away for life—until then… not so much.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I just want to get them returned to their families, that’s all.” She glanced at the backseat and met Kim’s hostile glare. Now what? “Do we have a plan to get across the border?”

  SAC Rhinehold spoke from her position behind Adam. “Our people are working on clearance now. Understandably, it will take some finesse so as not to offend the Mexican government since we are here without their sanction. And I’m going to guess you didn’t escape with your passports,” she joked.

  Maggie turned the other way and smiled at her boss. “I knew there was something we forgot.” Adam patted her leg and then left his hand resting on her thigh. Uncomfortable, nerves jumping under his touch, she slid her fingers palm up under his and clasped hands. Better.

  Adam gave her fingers a light squeeze as though he understood. Her throat closed. He really was an amazing man.

  “We’re going to wait in Nuevo Laredo until it’s safe to cross,” he said.

  No, Maggie’s heart cried. She wanted to take Chenglei down, she did. It’s just… he scared her. In all her years with the DEA she’d never been faced with a criminal of his caliber. Here, in Mexico, he was omnipotent. There was almost no one, other than the head of the cartel himself, to control his activities. Certainly not their government, and she had serious doubts about her own.

  “He’s going to find us and this time he’ll kill us,” the teen moaned.

  “No one’s going to hurt you,” Frank assured her, his voice a deep rumble that did weird
things to Maggie’s insides. “I have friends there, we’ll be safe. It won’t be for long anyway. I’m sure the DEA know their job, they’ll get you out.”

  Maggie was surprised by the warmth flooding her chest. It felt good knowing a man like Frank Stein had respect for the institution she poured her blood, sweat, and tears into. What they did was important, she truly believed that. But sometimes their organization got a bum rap. What most people didn’t understand was the drug market was a massive tidal wave flooding the western hemisphere faster than they could hope to sandbag. It was a lucrative market preying off the weak and needy and almost impossible to stop. They knew Fentanyl shipped from China—the leading producer of pharmaceutical ingredients—to Mexico, then used trafficking routes into the United States, where over sixty thousand deaths in the last year alone were linked to the deadly drug. They even knew who was behind the trafficking—the Sinaloa Cartel—but none of that mattered. The cartel had its hand in too many pies; everything the DEA did to thwart their enterprise was swiped aside like pesky mosquitoes. It was damn disheartening.

  But then there was Frank, who seemed to have faith in their respective organizations. Who never gave up. Could she do any less?

  “We need a plan. If we have to wait anyway, we may as well try to lure the tiger out of his den.” She ignored Adam’s indrawn breath and turned and looked at her boss. “I want Chenglei.”

  29

  Adam held his position above the dank alley and tried not to fall down the déjà vu well as he watched his partner once more risk her life while he sat helplessly on the sidelines.

  “Quit pouting,” Amanda chided in his ear as she wandered past, the stooped back, shapeless black dress and smudged skin allowing her to hide in plain sight as she rummaged through garbage bins. “You know she has to do this her way.” She clattered off down the street without giving him time to answer.