Escape from Danger

by Linsey Lanier

  “The ranch belonged to my parents,” Sofia explained. “I decided to come back here after I retired from the field office in Buenos Aires.”

  So she had been an FBI agent, too.

  “My first husband, the boys’ father, was KIA.”

  Tiziano shook his head sadly. “He was a good man.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Janelle said, wondering at how open this pair was. And then she realized it was for her benefit. Simon probably already knew all those details.

  “Make yourselves at home.” Sofia gestured to the chairs, then exited into the kitchen.

  They settled around the table and after a little while, their hostess returned with two large bowls of steaming stew.

  It was yellow in color and filled with spices, potatoes, corn, and the most wonderful beef Janelle had ever tasted. Walking twenty miles through an underground cave and riding through the countryside for hours on end had certainly given her an appetite. She ate two helpings.

  Along with the meal Tiziano served a dark red full bodied wine.

  Janelle savored a sip. “Hmm, this Bordeaux is good.”

  “It’s a Malbec,” Tiziano said proudly.

  The Argentine wine. “Oh, right. Not too heavy, not too sweet.”

  Tiziano clinked glasses with her. “You know your wine.”

  “Janelle was born in Napa Valley, California. Her parents have a vineyard there,” Simon explained, though he hadn’t had any of the wine and had stuck to his black coffee.

  She felt her cheeks redden. She didn’t know Simon knew that detail about her.

  Tiziano’s gaze went back and forth between them. He must be wondering about the nature of her relationship with Simon as much as she was.

  But he didn’t comment. Instead, he cleared his throat. “Tell me what happened at the cabin.”

  While Sofia cleared the table, Simon related the details of the helicopter attack and their escape.

  “Good thing I insisted on the backup vehicle.”

  Simon looked down at his hands. “It was a wise move. Thank you.”

  Tiziano wasn’t interested in gratitude. His brow furrowed with concern. “And the men from the helicopter weren’t there when you exited the cave?”

  “Not a sign of them,” Simon said. “It was windy, but they could have easily flown over the mountains, landed in the valley, and climbed up the road to ambush us.”

  Sofia returned to the dining room and sat down next to her husband. “Perhaps they were eaten by a puma.”

  She must have heard everything from the kitchen.

  Tiziano patted her hand. “That would be convenient, my dear. But unlikely.” He thought a moment. “They might have gotten lost. Or forgotten where the exit is.”

  Simon considered that. “It’s very well camouflaged. Maybe they couldn’t find it.”

  Nobody seemed to buy that.

  “The only other explanation is that they think they know where you are going.”

  “Here?”

  “Perhaps. That would not be very smart of them. My sons are very quick with their shotguns.”

  And so was he, Janelle bet. And probably Sofia as well. She wondered what exactly the woman had done in Buenos Aires.

  Sofia grew solemn. “You’ve been disavowed.”

  Simon’s lips grew thin. “That’s obvious. If not by the entire Bureau, by some faction of it.”

  Tiziano scratched at his beard. “It could be a small, secret group. Including Sofia, only eight living souls in the world know the location of that cabin. And now nine with Ms. Wesson.”

  Simon ticked off the remaining names. “O’Cleary, but he would never come after me like that.”

  “No.”

  Simon continued. “Hooper, Kirby, Aldrich, and Breaker.”

  “I recall Hooper had trouble obeying orders at times.”

  “That’s right. You had to dress him down in front of everyone once.”

  Was this Hooper the one who was after them? “Maybe he’s gone out on his own for some reason,” Janelle suggested.

  Tiziano shook off the idea. “It’s clear these men were sent by someone in Washington. Someone who believes you killed Agent Cooley. They will keep coming after you until you can find out who set you up and prove yourself innocent.”

  And prove who killed Cooley.

  Simon studied his coffee. “I don’t know how I can do that.”

  “The documents aren’t yielding anything?”

  “I’m not making any progress with them.”

  Documents? Was that what Simon had been staring at on his laptop in the cabin?

  “What about the letter?”

  “I’ve read it over and over. There must be some hidden message in it, but I can’t figure it out.”

  “Do you have an alibi for the night Cooley was killed?”

  Simon shook his head. “Not that I can verify. After I flew back to Washington from Key West, I went to my apartment and slept.”

  “Key West. You were flying back from your unsanctioned mission.”

  Tiziano knew about that as well? He and Simon must have had a long conversation when they’d picked up supplies. She’d probably slept through it.

  “I told Cooley I was going out on my own.”

  “But no one else knows that.”

  “Probably not.”

  “So whoever set you up made it look like you had an argument with him about the mission, flew off the handle, and killed him.”

  “Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking clearly the night I found Cooley. I probably left some fingerprints and shoe prints behind.”

  “So they have evidence against you.”

  Janelle couldn’t stand it any longer. “Simon didn’t kill anyone. He helped save our country from nuclear attack. I was there. I can testify to it.”

  Tiziano fixed her with a gaze deep with experience. “You might not get that chance.”

  Sofia suddenly brightened. “Julian might help.”

  “That’s a thought.”

  Sofia got up and started rummaging through a drawer in the whatnot.

  Simon raised a brow. “Julian?”

  “Julian Knox,” Tiziano said, “He’s still in the Buenos Aires office. I’ve known him a long time. We worked together in El Paso before we were sent here. He’s a bit of a renegade, like you, Simon. I trust him. I think he will see your side.”

  Simon considered that a moment. “The Buenos Aires office? I wonder.”

  “What?”

  “If our attackers know Agent Knox is a friend of yours, they might guess we’re going there.”

  Tiziano shook his head. “They don’t know that. None of them have been to Buenos Aires since that training. But even so, you’ll have to be very cautious. Don’t go to the office and request a meeting. Catch Julian on the street. Get him to talk to you.”

  “Here it is.” Sofia held up an old-fashioned print photo. “It’s not a new picture, but I’m sure he hasn’t changed much. He’s very tall. One-ninety centimeters. Ah, that is about six feet three.”

  She handed the photo to Simon. He held it so Janelle could study it alongside him.

  Knox was a distinguished looking-man. Perhaps in his early forties in this photo. His dark hair and mustache were sprinkled with gray. His features were long and narrow, making him look more like a college professor than an FBI agent.

  Sofia tapped the table. “Julian used to have lunch at El Puente every day. He may have been a renegade in the field, but when it came to food, he was very much a creature of habit. You should be able to find him there.”

  Simon spread his hands. “Why should he listen to me?”

  “I’ll send him a message.”

  “Texting would be easy to intercept,” Sofia warned.

  “You are right, my dear. I’ll write you a letter,” Tiziano said to Simon as he got to his feet. “It’s settled then. We leave in the morning.”

  Janelle didn’t feel very settled. She had a thousand questions, but before she had a
chance to ask any of them, Sofia hustled her off to a small room with a single bed covered by a thick blanket in a South American design.

  She wanted to find Simon and talk to him about all this, but her eyelids were drooping. She was exhausted.

  Maybe she’d get up early and catch him then.

  She took off her clothes, hung them over a chair, and pulled back the covers.

  She laid down, closed her eyes, and before she could decide if the mattress was comfortable or not, she was sound asleep.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, Janelle was woken by shouts and whistles from outside.

  Sitting up in her bed, she pushed back the curtain and peered out the window.

  Across a wide field of tall brown grass, four men on horseback were herding sheep out of a paddock and into a pasture.

  The two farthest away must have been the sons. Toward the back of the herd rode Tiziano and Simon.

  Like the others, he had on a cowboy hat and a poncho, looking every bit like a genuine gaucho. A strong and masterful one.

  She was amazed. She had no idea he could ride a horse, let alone herd sheep. The sight of him roused all the confusing feelings she had for him, making her heart swim with heady emotions she didn’t want to feel.

  Then she realized Simon and Tiziano were talking to each other. Probably about her.

  Was he going to leave her here while he went off to Buenos Aires?

  Not on her life.

  She jumped out of bed, found the bathroom, and took a quick shower, though she wanted to linger under the hot water that soothed her sore muscles. When she finished, she riffled through her suitcase until she found something comfortable. She made sure her shoes were good for walking.

  She’d just stepped into the dining room just as Sofia came in from the kitchen. “Good morning, Ms. Wesson. Did you sleep well?”

  “Um, yes. Please call me Janelle.”

  “Please sit and have some breakfast, Janelle.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You need to eat something. You don’t know what you’ll be facing.”

  That made her sit.

  “Have a few medialunas.” Sofia pushed a platter of rolls that looked vaguely like croissants toward her.

  They were brown and warm and smelled too tempting to pass up.

  Janelle took one—just to be polite—and bit into it. It was wonderful. Chewier than a croissant with a hint of lemon and vanilla. And lots of butter.

  Sofia poured her a coffee from the carafe on a nearby table, added warm milk from another pitcher, and handed her the cup. “Good, aren’t they? We eat them for breakfast all the time.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” Janelle gulped down the coffee and started to feel her head clear.

  Sofia reached across the table and took her hand. “I know Simon can be moody at times, but he’s a good man. And he cares for you.”

  Did he? “How well do you know him?”

  “Well enough.”

  Before she could say any more, the front door opened and Simon appeared with Tiziano. “Ah, good. You’ve had your breakfast. The weather is good, the wind is low. We need to be off soon.”

  “So we’re going to Buenos Aires?”

  Simon studied her with a look of both apology and longing. “It’s our only chance at this point. Unless you want to become a rancher.”

  Not the life she’d imagined for herself. “I don’t think we can burden our hosts that way.”

  “Are you finished eating?”

  “Yes. Thank you. It was very good.” She got to her feet.

  “Then let’s get your bags.”

  She nodded and went back into the hall. She had almost reached her little bedroom when Simon grabbed her hand.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry, Janey.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Sorry for dragging you into this. Sorry for risking your life. If you’d like to stay here, I understand.”

  He stood close to her. She could feel his breath on her face, and by the way he was running his eyes over her, she was sure he wanted to kiss her. And of course, she wanted that, too. She had zero resistance when it came to this man.

  But that behavior would be terribly inappropriate right now. Besides his words only confirmed how much he regretted having her with him.

  Pulling her hand away, she took a step back. “It’s what I signed up for, isn’t it? Excuse me, I have to pack or Tiziano might leave without me.”

  She opened the door and brushed past him and into the room, leaving him with a stunned look on his handsome face.

  Chapter Ten

  This time she hadn’t unpacked much. Janelle eyed the metallic gold Adidas and the matching top in her suitcase with longing, but instead selected her black walking shoes. No telling what she’d be climbing over or under today.

  Along with the shoes, she pulled on black stretch-denim joggers, a simple dark red T-shirt, and a soft blue-and-pink metallic sheen curved hem jacket. She tied a matching scarf around her head to hide her recognizable hair and added a pair of designer sunglasses she hoped wouldn’t get scratched.

  She tossed the rest of her things into her bag, said goodbye to Sofia, and met Tiziano and Simon outside leaning against the jeep they’d driven here last night.

  Simon had changed into his usual black T and slacks with a black blazer thrown over it, while Tiziano was in jeans and a striped knit shirt that brought out the dark tones of his skin.

  Janelle couldn’t help noticing Simon’s double take when he caught sight of her.

  His duffel bags were already in the back, and as he reached for her suitcase to put it in its place next to them, he muttered under his breath, “The fashion model look wasn’t necessary.”

  She grimaced at him. And here she thought he’d be pleased with her spy-like clothing choices.

  Without replying, she took the backseat while Simon settled in next to Tiziano.

  As the wise old man put the vehicle in gear, he turned to Simon. “I think Ms. Wesson’s look will fit right in at the capital.”

  Simon didn’t answer.

  After about a half an hour, the jeep took them to a dusty deserted airstrip where a two-engine prop plane sat waiting. So they were flying to Buenos Aires. She hoped that thing would make the trip.

  Tiziano performed a thorough check of the craft, then ushered them aboard. Settling into one of the four seats and buckling her belt, Janelle hoped Tiziano was as good a pilot as he was a rancher.

  Tiziano shut the door, climbed into the pilot’s seat, and started the engine. After a short jaunt down the runway, they were in the air.

  Janelle glanced over at Simon who sat across from her.

  He wasn’t looking at her. Biting his thumb, he stared out the window lost in thought.

  Troubled thoughts, she knew. If only he would share them with her. But he wouldn’t. All she could wish for now was that this man at the FBI office would help them, and all this would be over soon. Then she could go back to her old life at the Parker Agency. And learn to forget about Simon Sloan.

  They flew over rivers and faults and lowlands, the steady rhythm of the propellers, lulling her into a sleepy stupor.

  Five hours later the bump of the wheels on the runway startled her awake.

  As they rolled to a stop, she sat up and looked out the window. Nearby stood a hanger and a large square red-and-white checkered structure. On the other side of the runway lay a flat green field that ended in a row of neatly spaced trees. She could see the movement of cars on a road beyond that.

  Tiziano unbuckled his belt and turned to them. “I’ve rented a car for you. It’s registered under the name Mateo Rodriquez. Here are your DNIs.” He handed them each a laminated card.

  Sure enough, Simon’s photo was on his along with the name Mateo Rodriquez. Her photo bore the name Maria Rodriquez. Mateo and Maria. How cute. Were they supposed to be husband and wife? They certainly weren’t on any honeymoon.

&nb
sp; “Common enough names. These IDs will work better than the ones you already have.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. I also have a bank card in this name. It should provide sufficient funds.” He handed Simon another card. “And I booked a room for you at the Destino Encantador. It’s paid for through the end of the week.”

  Simon opened his mouth in protest.

  Tiziano held up a hand. “It’s nothing special. You can pay me back when you come through this.”

  “I can’t thank you and Sofia enough for all you’ve done.”

  Brushing off the gratitude, Tiziano took each of their hands in his big gnarled ones. “The name of this city means ‘fair winds.’ Let’s hope the winds blow favorably for you. God go with you both.”

  Then he opened the door of the plane and they climbed down to their waiting rental car.

  It turned out to be a black Volkswagen Beetle that barely had enough room for their luggage. It would have to do.

  They climbed inside, and as their host taxied his plane over to refuel and return home, they headed for the city.

  Chapter Eleven

  Under a bright blue sky Simon maneuvered the Beetle along a broad, nicely paved road bordered by a large body of water. He told her the water was called Rio de la Plata, the widest river in the world. He also told her the inhabitants here were called porteños because it was a port city, and that it was founded in the fifteen-hundreds by the Spanish.

  Janelle wondered how he knew all that.

  The road veered away from the water, and soon they were on a wide multi-lane highway lined by tall well-manicured trees and bits of greenery beyond. The traffic was heavy, but the road was spacious and clean. They passed motorcycles, little orange-and-white buses, large public buses, black-and-orange taxis, and a lot of cars as small as their own as they drove through roundabouts and past parks and beautiful monuments to people she didn’t know.

  Other than the statues, the scenery was mostly asphalt and vehicles and trees.

  After about twenty minutes, Simon made a turn and drove down a street with a gentle curve. “There it is.”