Maggie's Revenge: Wounded Hearts- Book 6

by Jacquie Biggar

  “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.

  Not that she’d want to hear what he had to say. Because he was furious. How many lives did Maggie think she had, anyway? Sooner or later, her number was going to get called if she kept taking these foolish risks. Sometimes, he wondered if she had a death wish.

  He wanted the sonofabitch who’d taken her prisoner and murdered countless young women, too, but he would have handled the seizure differently. It was crazy to think the four of them had a chance to take down one of the most feared criminals in the world on his own turf. He searched, but caught no sign of Frank, though he knew the chief had set up across from Maggie, near enough to help if needed. Or so they hoped.

  Adam adjusted his scope, itching to get this over with. It had been surprisingly easy—almost too easy—to lure Chenglei to the border city where they were holed up. One trip to the local cantina after stashing the girls at the safehouse, a few carefully chosen words to the bartender, and the meet and greet was arranged. It was a trap, of course. Chenglei wouldn’t show up without a small army in tow, they knew that. But, between Frank and Amanda, they felt they’d come up with a plan to evade the enemy while engaging the rat. All they had to do was stick to the plan.

  Ha. He trusted Frank, but hated the thought of Maggie being anywhere near that bastard again. He didn’t know how she’d discovered the leak in the DEA, but it explained why she’d been sacrificed all these months. And what about Amanda? Was she part of this? He didn’t know what to think anymore. He liked her. She was smart, focused, career-driven, and incredibly sexy. All of which convinced him even more that he should be wary. She was nearing the end of the alley now, close to where Maggie waited under the lone streetlight like a beacon in the dark.

  They exchanged words, just two women of the night passing time. Maggie handed over a cigarette and offered the beggar a light before taking one for herself. They puffed in silence for a few moments, then the older woman nodded her thanks and continued down the street, quiet at this time of night. Maggie flicked her butt to the ground and trod on it with the toe of her high-heeled shoe. Black leggings with strategic holes gave tantalizing glimpses of smooth honey-colored skin while a flame-red micro skirt lovingly hugged her trim thighs.

  A few years ago, he would have been turned on by that look—hell, he still was—but now a straight-lined office skirt and solid black pumps attached to a snarky, annoying, tantalizing woman tempted him more. Maggie had told him it was time to let go of the past, maybe she was right. They’d had a good thing going for a while, but it had run its course. Now, he just wanted her to be safe so she could tell him, “I told you so.”

  A car turned down the street, its headlights off, and he tensed. Show time.

  Maggie heard the car before she saw it and had to stem the urge to turn tail and run. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? This was her opportunity to pay back even a portion of the wrongs Chenglei had committed against her and the others who had fallen victim to his depraved nature. And above all, she sought revenge for Olga.

  “We’ve got a live one. Dark four-door sedan coming your way. I count two tangos. I repeat, the play is in motion. Hold positions.” Frank’s low, husky rumble brushed her earlobe through the wireless transmitter and sent tingles skipping over her skin. Her pulse jumped. She froze for the merest second before twisting to watch the slow approach of the vehicle. They weren’t taking any chances either. For some reason, she found that encouraging.

  “I see them,” she murmured. “Keep back, we don’t want to scare him off.” Not strictly true. Her heart would be grateful if Chenglei disappeared—forever—but since that wasn’t likely to happen, the next best thing would be to lock him up and throw away the key. After they found out what he knew. For years she and Adam had worked on the Phoenix File together, ever since an incredibly brave young woman escaped the tyranny of a failed marriage to a US attorney with an eye on the governor’s chair. She’d learned of his misdealings and fled with evidence that rocked the DEA and every other agency of the United States administration. Thanks to Sara Reed and the Phoenix File they now had absolute proof their government was under siege. And Chenglei was the key to unlocking the information.

  “Switching to radio silence, over.” SAC Rhinehold’s voice raised the hair on Maggie’s neck too. Her tone warned of the danger they faced. It was the four of them against an unknown number of enemies. Not the best odds.

  She surreptitiously glanced across the street as the car came to a halt. She could just make out Frank’s dark shape against the even darker backdrop of the entry to the tourist shop, the glass displays showcasing Mexican dolls, sombreros, and various handmade chess sets. She’d had ample time to window-shop while waiting for Chenglei to make an appearance.

  The front passenger door opened—the interior remaining dark—and one of his henchmen stepped out wearing all-black, from his hair to his toes. Not intimidating at all. He did a three-sixty turn—slowing for a heart stopping moment on Amanda’s head buried in a garbage can—to survey the area, his hand on the weapon he carried in a shoulder holster. Ignoring Maggie, he held the back door open for his boss, and in the next minute she was face-to-face with the one man she’d hoped never to see again.

  “So, you were tired of my generous hospitality, were you?” Chenglei gave an oily smile as he ambled over to her as though he hadn’t a care in the world. He reached out and ran a bejeweled finger down her cheek, causing goosebumps to jump and run for cover. “You seem tired, my pet. Running away doesn’t look good on you.” His hand drifted to her wrist and clasped on like a manacle. “I don’t like being made a fool of, my dear. You’ve embarrassed me in front of my men. How are you going to make it up to me?”

  Maggie gave a sharp snapping pull, but the grip on her wrist only tightened, yanking her off balance. She fell against his thick torso and pushed away with a forced laugh. “I thought you liked games, master?” She spat out the name he’d forced her to use during their time together. “I didn’t appreciate the hovel you threw me into. Why would you expect me to stay?”

  He chuckled, but his squinty eyes promised retribution. “You killed eight of my men, querida. That cannot go unpunished. Come,” he turned toward the car, “we will talk in private.”

  Maggie stumbled along in his wake, her heart in her throat. She gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. If the team stepped in now, they might kill him, but they’d never get the answers they needed. Too bad she felt like a lamb being led to slaughter.

  30

  Frank clenched his fists. He hated feeling helpless. Problem was, his hands were tied. Magdalena was a federal agent. He had to trust she knew her job, but there was no way in hell that car was driving out of here.

  “That vehicle moves an inch, you shoot the tires out, copy?” He didn’t have to say a name, Adam was their sniper.

  “Only the tires? Where’s the fun in that?”

  The drollness in his friend’s reply was underlain by a thick blanket of anger that was impossible to miss. He’d been against the plan from the get-go, and had fought with Maggie and Amanda for most of the trip into Nuevo Laredo. Frank had kept silent. Raised by a strong-willed woman, he’d learned the value of compromise. He didn’t like the scheme they’d concocted, but could see the value of the idea. It was up to the rest of them to ensure Maggie’s wellbeing.

  The first thing they’d done upon arrival was to make contact with some people who owed Frank a favor. In the volatile climate of the city it was important to keep tabs on who controlled what at any given time. They didn’t need to get caught up in a bloody battle between fracturing cartel factions fighting for power in the lucrative trafficking territory. The recent political changeover had only inflamed the struggle for suprema
cy. It was a well-known fact the cartels influenced not only the police force in the state, but also its politicians—often through threats and enticements. It angered Frank to learn how invasive they had become on US soil. He, and every other elite soldier out there, worked hard to preserve their lands for generations to come. It pissed him off that while they’d been OCONUS fighting a war not of their own making, the enemy had been quietly slipping in through the back door.

  Maggie’s voice came through the earbuds. “Let’s not play games. I have something you want. Permit us safe passage home and it’s yours.”

  Tension bled down the line followed by an audible click that stopped Frank’s heart.

  “Son of a…,” Adam cursed.

  “Quiet,” Amanda ordered.

  Frank shifted his weight from one foot to the other, allowing just the slightest twist so he could peer into the pitch-black vehicle without being noticed. The tinting on the windows made it difficult even with the night vision goggles, but he was still able to draw a bead on the back of Chenglei’s head.

  “Target in sight.” One word from Maggie and he was a dead man.

  “Affirmative,” Adam reported. “One bogey in the driver’s seat, handgun pointed toward Agent Holt.”

  Frank knew it cost him, but now was not the time to allow emotion to overrule strategy. They each had a job to do, one that required precise choreography if it was to work. He shuddered to think what might happen if it didn’t.

  “Put the gun away, José. The señorita is our guest. Are you trying to frighten her?” Chenglei laughed at his own joke. “Maggie, my dear. I must insist you prove to José that you carry no weapons. Or wires. Open your shirt, querida.” His voice turned hard. “Now, if you please.”

  Frank held his breath. The earbud was wireless and shaped to look like an earring, but a high-tech bug detector would find the transmitter in a heartbeat. Something none of them wanted. They were banking on Chenglei’s ego to keep Maggie safe. He wouldn’t expect a mere woman to best him at his own game.

  “I’m going to shoot that sonofabitch right between his good-for-nothin’ eyes,” Adam growled.

  Frank planned on being his spotter. After they got what they came for. “Stay cool, Ace. All good things come to those that wait.” He was glad they’d cut communication with Maggie—they could still hear her—before she entered the car. She was under enough stress without listening to them and wondering if their plan was about to go sideways.

  “Let her do her job or I’ll pull you off that roof, O’Connor,” Rhinehold hissed as she eased toward the car, a grocery cart brimming with new-found treasures, confiscated from the garbage cans alongside the building, creaking and rattling in front of her.

  “Satisfied?” Maggie again, her tone shaky and defiant all at once. Frank stared hard at his hand braced on the wall and counted from twenty—backwards.

  “For now. You can do the shirt up, though it’s a shame to cover such beauty.” Chenglei spoke, the amusement rippling through his words. “What have you done with my girls? They were spoken for, my clients are not pleased. You have cost me time and money, my dear. How do you plan to repay my losses, hmm?”

  “Take your hand off me before I rip it off at the shoulder,” Maggie snapped. Frank huffed out a silent laugh. Damn, she had spunk. “I’m not your dear and those women are already halfway home by now. You had no…,” she paused and drew a deep breath. “Look, what’s done is done. Do you want the information I have, or not?”

  “Easy, Agent Holt,” Amanda whispered, two car lengths away from the parked car. She stopped and fidgeted with the bags falling out of her cart, frizzed hair blowing this way and that in the breeze gusting down the street. “Visuals still good, gentlemen?”

  She was talking about the wind, of course. Shifts in air patterns disrupted a bullet’s trajectory, something they had to account for when taking their shots.

  “Ready when you are,” Adam said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” from Frank. He’d been on some hairy ops, but this one was giving him the jitters. It had nothing to do with Maggie being female, though that was an inescapable fact. It was more a something’s-wrong-with-this-picture kind of feeling. His momma would tell him to go with his gut. Problem was, his instincts were screaming at him and he didn’t know why. They’d gone over their plan forward and backward until it was time for the meet. It should run like a well-oiled machine…

  “Of course, of course,” Chenglei crooned. “But first, I want you to get rid of those men watching my car. They’re making me nervous, and you don’t want that, now do you?”

  Frank swore and glanced up at the roof, but Adam was invisible. How did the asshole know?

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Who would be stupid enough to help me while in your country? Let’s get on with this or I’m leaving.”

  There was the sound of a tussle and heavy breathing. Frank tensed, ready to take action. He could hear Adam cursing a steady stream of vitriol under his breath and Rhinehold shifting as she, too, prepared to go in. His heart pounded, then slowed as his focus sharpened, his gaze no longer hidden as he took in the vehicle and its occupants. Except wait… there was another head in the front seat.

  Goddammit.

  “Do you see that, over?”

  “Yes,” Adam grunted, and Frank knew his friend’s cheek lay along the barrel of his rifle. “Bogey in the front. How the fuck did we miss him?”

  “Her,” Frank muttered, just as a voice they all recognized came over the speaker.

  “I had to do it,” the young teen Maggie had rescued spoke, belligerent now that she’d crossed them all. “He promised to protect me if I watched you and reported in. Didn’t you ever wonder why the soldiers left me alone?” Her tone turned triumphant. “I’m going to be rich. My parents don’t give a good goddamn about me, I bet they never even looked for me after I left home. Chenglei said he would give me a house, jewelry, anything I want.” She paused. “I had no choice.”

  Maggie came on, her voice defeated. “We all have a choice, Molly. I hope you get the chance to live with yours.”

  Chenglei chuckled. “Don’t be so sad, querida. Life is nothing more than a game of chess. You just had the unfortunate luck to play against the master.” He did something and they heard her cry out. “Unless you like your friend’s pain, I suggest you back down and let us leave, agents. Comprenden?”

  The window rolled down a scant couple of inches and something glinted as it was thrown onto the street—Maggie’s earring/transmitter. The sedan fired up and drove slowly away.

  31

  Maggie couldn’t decide if she was angry or scared. She glared at Molly as the car pulled away, leaving their security behind. Dumb kid. Why she would trust a known rapist and drug dealer over people who were trying to help her was anyone’s guess. It placed them in an untenable position. On top of that, with the earbud’s discovery, their chance for survival had just dwindled to nothing. They were on their own.

  “So, you thought you could trick me. I’m very disappointed in you, my dear.” Chenglei’s voice sent shivers chasing each other up her spine. He placed a perfectly manicured hand on her knee and squeezed. “You and I, we have unfinished business. We’ll deal with that matter first, and then—” his fingers dug into her skin, “—you can make it up to me.”

  Oh, hell no.

  She’d slit her own throat first.

  There was no way she could stomach going down that road again. It had almost killed her the first time, but she’d shut everything away except the mission. Saving those women and taking down the cartel had kept her sane through the torture and humiliation. But she couldn’t go back there. She just couldn’t.

  Maggie jerked her knees away, jamming them up against the door in the futile hope he’d leave her alone. His laughter told her otherwise.

  “Why do you do this?” she asked. “Isn’t it enough that you get rich from selling drugs to our vulnerable and weapons to the war-mongers, without stealing our children for the
vile sexual appetites of sick assholes?”

  Chenglei only smiled. “I am but a conduit, my love. My clients come to me looking for a service and in exchange I am handsomely paid. In your country, you would call me an entrepreneur.” He glanced out the window at the seedy buildings and garbage strewn streets. “Is it wrong to want more from life than hard labor and an early death?”

  No, it wasn’t wrong, but the way he’d gone about it certainly was. “There are lots of people born to poverty—” she’d been one of them, “—they don’t decide to get rich by selling their souls. What you did was wrong, you have to know that.” Any empathy she might have had at one time for the little boy born to a mixed heritage and accepted by neither, died under the callous hands of the man he had become.

  He turned his head and stared at her, coal-black eyes enigmatic, dark hair swept back and glinting in the fitful street lights they travelled under. “I tire of your condemnation. The path I chose was my decision; one I do not regret.” He pointed at her. “You, on the other hand, ran from your heritage straight into the arms of a government that uses you for its own gains. How then, are we so different, Agent Holt? We both survive at the mercy of our peers, do we not?”

  Maggie startled at the sound of her official name on his lips. She’d assumed he knew she had been planted into his organization, but here was the proof. “How did you…?”

  “What?” He smiled, an attractive, charismatic man well aware of his power. “Find out you were a spy?”

  The driver jerked the wheel and the girl gasped. Chenglei’s charming persona flipped like that of a chameleon. He leaned forward and used the butt of his walking stick to clunk the bodyguard on the side of the head. Spanish spewed out of his mouth in a venomous stream. Both occupants of the front seat cowered, their expressions mirrored images of fear.

  Maggie had to control her own urge to shrink into the corner. Never let them see you sweat. Advice she’d received from her combat instructor popped into her head. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t stuck two feet away from a psycho.