True Peril

by Veronica Forand

  “Gentlemen, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of working with this rifle.” She hooked up the video feed to a laptop purchased specifically for this sale while explaining the specifications of the rifle. A few of the men had no idea the significance of what she was saying. The suit assisting Rebollo seemed completely unaware of what he had been negotiating for. Most, however, did.

  The video, displayed on a large screen, showed her outside the shell of an old warehouse. Cement walls crumbled in four directions, and weeds and small trees populated what had once been a storage area. One of the walls was completely collapsed. Eve stretched prone on the ground, preparing to fire the Excavador50. It took an expert Simon had flown in for the occasion to show them all how to setup, load a ten round magazine, aim, and fire. The camera had a perfect view of her shooting through one of the thick walls toward a target dummy on the inside. The bullet exploded through the concrete and hit the target, punching out the back and sending red sawdust billowing out like confetti at a parade.

  The men didn’t say anything for a good thirty seconds after the video concluded. Eve watched as their minds changed from no to maybe to whatever you want.

  “How many do you have?” Rebollo asked.

  “Three crates.” Federico finally entered the conversation.

  Rebollo leaned over to his spokesman to confer about something.

  When her gun case arrived, she directed it to be placed on the floor next to her. Federico assisted her with opening it. She unloaded one of the most advanced rifles in the world. Not only had she possession of it, she’d proven to the men she’d used it with deadly accuracy. They sat a little taller now and spoke to her as though she mattered. As they should have from the beginning.

  Five hours and a whole lot of paperwork later, she’d closed her first arms deal, with Simon’s able assistance. The guns would be sold to the group, and the DEA, with the help of the Mexican authorities, would be able track the guns with the location devices in them. They should be out of circulation by the middle of next month.

  Federico walked Simon and Eve to their car. “Simon, my compliments. When I was told of your skills, I was at first doubtful. Yet you managed to get my price. Thank you.”

  “Thank Eve. She did the heavy work.”

  He tapped his lip with his finger. “I was surprised to see that you not only understood how the gun works, but you handled it like a pro. Beauty and brains.”

  “I am a pro.” If she accepted his gushing praise, she’d go down a notch in his esteem. So she didn’t smile, but held it together so he’d continue to respect her.

  “I can see that now. I can’t wait to tell my colleagues about your success in this meeting.”

  She couldn’t wait to tell Dane.

  …

  When Dane arrived back at his hotel, he checked his phone for messages. He’d turned it off during his meeting—a meeting that resulted in a lot of threats and a demand for him to commit to reporting as much dirt on Simon as possible or take a desk job looking over invoices of ammunition sales. After all the deals he’d put together for them, they treated him like it was his fault the Chinese sold drones to the Indian government. He told them he’d join Simon if he could infiltrate the group without blowing his cover, never indicating that he’d already infiltrated the group and was close to becoming a part owner.

  They gave him twenty-four hours to make a decision. Work with Simon and report to them or become an analyst in a dead end job with no opportunity for travel.

  He checked his phone as he hailed a taxi back to his hotel. Eve had left two messages for him. He also had one from Simon.

  The meeting in Juarez was a success, and they were on their way back to London. They’d meet him in the morning for breakfast.

  He then called Jenny. She didn’t answer. An eerie chill cut through the calm in his hotel room. He’d called her that morning and had no answer, either. Apprehension cut through his normal demeanor and refocused his world from England and Eve to Columbia and Jenny.

  After confirming with some sources in Bogotá that there had been disturbances in the San Stefano area, he cancelled his trip to London. Instead, he headed south.

  …

  Traveling to a remote section of Columbia in search of his sister gave him heartburn. His Jeep moved at a decent pace, except when blocked by buses that didn’t have the engine capacity to be traveling into the mountains on a twenty-year-old transmission. He’d kept in touch with Simon, but hesitated to contact Eve. Would she want to follow him? Absolutely. She cared about Jenny, and she’d feel responsible if something happened to her. He tightened his grip on the wheel and held back the acidic rush of fear churning in his gut. Jenny better be okay.

  A few more hours from civilization, he stopped to refuel at a lonesome gas station on the edge of a small village. He switched into his lame version of Spanish for the transaction.

  “Where are you headed?” The man clutched Dane’s credit card as though prepared to run away with it.

  “San Stefano.”

  The man spit onto the ground and shook his head. “Are you with the Red Cross?”

  Shit. If the Red Cross was headed up there, a natural disaster had occurred or something worse, much worse. The acid pushed its way into Dane’s chest. “No. I’m from a private group sent to help.”

  “My godchild lived there. He made it out, but not many did.” He finished filling the tank and handed Dane back his card. “Not sure what you can do. The entire place is in cinders.”

  It didn’t take long for Dane to finish the trek to the village. His thoughts were buried in the almost three decades of memories he shared with Jenny. She owned a piece of his heart inaccessible to anyone else. Like Eve, he’d never control her, but her life was as much a part of his destiny as his wife’s. But he’d be useless if he worried about outcomes. Focus on the now. His anger at Juan Carlos took over his mind and his thoughts. This conflict was personal, and Dane was as biased as a Red Sox fan at Yankee stadium.

  And now, at the sight of the utter devastation of the village, his bias transformed into a vendetta. Those that survived the attack would be permanently altered by deep psychological scars. Buildings smoldered. A heavy ash filled the sky and made breathing uncomfortable. The black dust coated the trees and any surrounding traces of life in this mountain area. What caused the most worry, however, was the absence of the schoolhouse. It wasn’t there. A blackened pile of stone and smoking rubble stood where he’d last seen his sister. Was she lying in the rubble unable to move, unable to breathe? He stepped toward the building but turned away when he heard several men approaching him. The group had been combing through the remnants of the village, and they asked him if he was with a relief agency.

  “I’m doing a survey of the damage. The Bogotá Red Cross is flying in resources.” He hoped his statement was true, because they’d need the help. “Do you know where I can find Jenny, the teacher?”

  Three heads turned toward him. The dark and hollow eyes revealed the trauma of the previous few days. They’d lived through hell and bore the look of people numb to anything emotional or poignant. Their expressions said they were in survival mode. No happiness, no anger. Just do the job and feel later.

  One man, his clothes charred and fraying from rescue attempts in the ashes, stepped forward. “Jenny is gone. She was taken by the men. They wanted the other one, but seemed content to take Jenny.”

  “The Red Hawks?”

  No one answered, but the man who’d spoken nodded his head as though afraid that saying the name would somehow make the group materialize.

  Relief that she’d last been seen alive warred with terror over what the rebels might do to her. Although her chance of survival increased, she could be tortured, raped, and then left for dead by a group of men with limited morals. The villagers standing with him had probably done nothing to help her. Perhaps they were relieved to get rid of her, hoping that the scourge would stop after the American was gone. Rage flooded his chest. Th
e smoke filling his lungs became sucked inside his mind, and he imagined all sorts of ways to make the villagers pay for letting the rebels take Jenny. If one hair on her head was out of place when he found her, they’d all be wiped from the Earth without a trace of their existence remaining.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to be calm. Was he any better? He’d vowed to rescue her, after all. And yet he and Simon had refused to pay the extortion the bastard wanted. If he’d figured out Dane was related to Jenny, Juan Carlos would certainly have attacked the village in retaliation. The results for the village would be catastrophic…as they had been.

  He pulled out his phone and called Simon.

  “Dunn.”

  “We have a problem. How quickly can you get to Columbia?” Requesting this of Simon would cement his future in the arms trade, but he had no choice. Jenny meant more to him than his future employment prospects.

  “I can’t. I no longer have a death wish, and my wife will kill me if I leave her again before Junior arrives.”

  “A rebel group took my sister. I need back up outside the agency.” Dane’s voice strained to keep from breaking. It could already be too late.

  He heard Cassie talking to Simon in the background. “Go. We owe him our lives. You might as well pay him back now.”

  Simon hissed into the phone. “I’ll be at Heathrow in two hours. Text me the specifics.”

  Dane let out a relieved laugh. “I love that woman of yours. Give Cassie a huge kiss for me, but nothing more. We don’t have the time.”

  When he hung up, he sorted through as many facts as possible about the attack. The time, the amount of men, the weapons. What he wanted to do was rush up the mountain and fight his way to Jenny’s side. Take her away from the insanity of this place and keep her safe in Maryland forever. It wouldn’t work. The Red Hawk’s security was tight, their men better armed than he was. He’d never rescued anyone from a hostile situation before. His job had always been to kill and leave. Alone. If he screwed this up, they were both dead. Simon’s team, more well trained than most of the world’s military forces, was on the way. Better to wait.

  Logic was difficult to harness while a million negative scenarios swirled through his brain, but he tried to keep his outlook upbeat. What would Jenny think when he arrived with a mini-military team to rescue her? Would she be shocked to see that he’d switch from a desk job to one that involved selling arms to groups around the globe?

  He put his time into helping the men pull bodies out of some of the fallen buildings. So many were children, whose lives had been gunned down, blown apart, or incinerated. Jenny and Eve’s children. The ones they’d risked their lives to give a future. His stomach reacted violently to the sight of the carnage. Twice he needed a break to try to purge the images from his mind. It never worked. The death and destruction around him had been permanently inked on his soul.

  After what seemed like hours in the middle of a war zone, he took a short walk to the edge of the jungle, gathered his thoughts, focused his mind, and breathed in the musty smell of the foliage. What would Eve do if she learned of this? No doubt about it. She’d travel here as fast as she could. He called Simon again to try to intercept her, but Simon was already in flight. He called Cassie instead.

  “Keep Eve away from any information about this. She’ll be on the next plane out if thinks Jenny needs her.”

  “Dane, that won’t work. We need to be a team. The four of us.”

  “In this case, keep number four protected.” Dane drank a mouthful of beer and then ate a forkful of something he’d bought from a local farmer.

  “Stop treating her like a weak female. She’s one of the best assets I’ve seen.”

  “I’d prefer her safe. And yes, I sound like a hypocrite, and I accept that label.”

  “She doesn’t want ‘safe’ as her future. I don’t see anything wrong about wanting to work in a field you love,” Cassie added.

  “Easy for you to say. You remain in your compound where you can raise kids and be there for Simon.” Although to be truthful, Eve might lose a lot of her vitality if he forced her to settle down.

  “You were furious when the CIA tried to clip your wings and place you on some analyst job for a few years.”

  “That’s different. I’m not made for a nine-to-five job in the Beltway, but I’m also not throwing myself into danger. I only do what’s necessary for the job. Eve wants to place herself on the front line.”

  “So does Simon, but I’m not going to stop him.”

  “You couldn’t stop him.”

  “Really?”

  “Most likely.” Although she did have a powerful hold over the man. “Eve isn’t Simon.”

  Cassie paused for a second. “No, but from what you’ve told me, she’s a damn good saleswoman, understands finances better than both of you, and is cool under pressure. In fact, the woman is a trained police officer and has been in war zones under attack. Why do you keep insisting she’s not qualified to be in the field?”

  “I don’t want to lose her.”

  “You will if you keep her from her destiny.”

  “At least she’ll be safe.”

  “It’s too late.” Cassie’s voice reflected her dismay. “She’s on her way. I mentioned you’d gone to check on Jenny, and when she saw Simon packing, she pushed him to let her go.”

  …

  Sleep evaded Eve on the long flight. All she could think about was Jenny, Dane, and the villagers. Simon, for the most part, worked on gathering his team together and offering tips on how to act around his men—and they were all men.

  At the airport, Simon approached her, his phone to his ear. He carried a small duffel bag and a somber expression. “You need to be prepared for the worst.”

  Her stomach contracted into a tight ball of nerves. She’d suspected the village would be in bad shape, but Simon’s news confirmed it. She inhaled a few calming breaths to ease the fear and gain more confidence.

  She nodded to Simon. “I’m ready.”

  They carried their luggage to a chauffeur-driven luxury car. Simon had made her pack a Kevlar vest, hiking boots, and an almost military outfit of dark jungle camouflage. She’d added lighter gear as well. The military outfit would not help her win the confidence of the people in the village.

  “Will this make it up into the mountains?” She gestured to the car.

  “No. Time’s of the essence. We’re taking the quickest route possible.”

  The car drove out of the city to a small field. Only one thing in the isolated area caught her attention, a wicked looking black helicopter. Guns were mounted on each side and the entire crew was dressed like a paramilitary group ready to take down a small hostile regime.

  “These are some of the men on my team. I had them meet me here to transport us. I don’t like long car rides, especially through unfriendly territory.” Simon pulled out his bag from the trunk. He introduced her to the pilot Derek, and Ethan, a flight surgeon and logistics expert, both formerly of the British armed forces. Ethan, a very large guy in a black flight suit, grabbed her luggage and loaded it.

  Simon assisted her in buckling up and then the whirling of the blades forced her to put on the earphones.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked through the intercom as he snapped the last of his buckles in place.

  She tried to smile. “No. Why would I be? I’ve trained for this.”

  “Right.”

  The helicopter lifted, banked to the right, and they careened forward. The air in her lungs expelled with a moan. Not a relaxing trip at all.

  She shut her eyes and pretended to sleep. The movements and the change in altitude made her stomach flop. She should have insisted they eat something at the airport. Simon, however, had a way of leading a person around without force, but with a very subtle form of mind control.

  “You look sick.” He handed her a pack of crackers. He could read minds as well, apparently.

  “Thanks.” She took
the crackers and devoured them, then she chugged down some water with the grace of a fraternity brother doing his first funnel.

  They touched down in a small field with nothing around but trees and grass and dirt. She waved good-bye to Derek and Ethan. Simon helped her exit under moving rotors. Once the luggage was next to them on the ground, the chopper took off. A Hummer arrived with two men dressed in camouflage. So this was how Simon’s army worked in combat situations.

  One of the guys waved out the window. He looked Columbian, dark, muscular, and serious. He jumped out when the vehicle stopped, shook Simon’s hand, and slapped his back, some sort of macho guy greeting.

  “Welcome to the boondocks.” His English was slow, American, and Southern. Not what she expected.

  When he turned toward Eve, a slow grin emerged. One that told Eve she’d have a hard time gaining his respect if she didn’t cut off his flirtation before it began. When his eyes dropped to her chest, she lifted her duffel bag and tossed it to him, as though he’d been assigned as her personal valet.

  “Don’t get it dirty.” She climbed into the backseat of the truck and introduced herself to the driver.

  A blond with a military crewcut met her gaze, he clasped her hand with professional precision. Nothing flirtatious about this guy. “Liam. Nice to meet you, Mrs. O’Brien. Simon’s told me about you. We’ll arrive in approximately an hour. The rest of the team is with your husband.”

  “At the village?”

  “No. We set up a base camp about a mile south of it.”

  Simon jumped into the front seat next to Liam and the Columbian-looking Southerner sat next to her with a glower.

  “Eve, this is Joe. Treat him nicely, he’s sensitive.” Simon smirked and Joe’s expression soured even more.

  “Nice to meet you,” she offered, now that he’d stopped seeing her as a collection of body parts and pictured her more as a pain in the ass he needed to be nice to.

  “Right.” He spoke with his face pointing out his window.

  As they drove, Liam informed Simon of the base camp operation and the location of the Red Hawks’ compound.