Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run

by O'Neal, Pepper

  They walked in silence. When they reached the grove of cacti where they’d left Tess’s bags. Max put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry, angel. I know it doesn’t seem like it to you, but the best thing we can do for Pablo and his family is to grab your stuff and get the hell out of Dodge.”

  ***

  7:41 p.m., Baja California Sur:

  “This sucks,” Nick muttered as he and Tony left the farm and headed back to the village—without any hostages. “I can’t believe we wasted all this time and that stupid family never came home. Even though the whole damn tribe was at the parade.” Rubbing his chin, he tried to think of a new plan. “Maybe we could just announce we had the brats. Tess might believe it.”

  Tony shook his head. “Never work. The village is too small. Everybody here knows everybody else. Someone’s bound to know where this family went. And that we don’t really have them.”

  Nick glowered at him. “And since you couldn’t track the radios, we’re right back to square one. Everything you’ve come up with so far has bombed.”

  “Stop whining,” Tony growled, slamming his fist on the steering wheel. “I’ll get the cunt. And we’re not back to square one. We’re closer to finding her now than we’ve ever been.”

  “Oh? And just how do you figure that?”

  “First of all, we know she’s here. Secondly, that tap on her attorney’s phone told us she has to go to a marina tomorrow and pick up some cash. She isn’t going to leave the area without doing that.” He waved a hand at the window as they entered El Nopal. “The nearest marina to this village is the one in La Paz. So smart money says that’s where she’ll go.”

  “I’d forgotten about the marina,” Nick confessed, relieved enough to ignore Tony’s pissy attitude. “So what’s your plan?”

  “I’ll send Joe to the La Paz Marina early tomorrow morning to wait for Tess. I trust him to do what needs to be done.” Tony snorted. “Half a mill’s a very good motivator. And it’s a small price to pay to clean up your mess.”

  Nick grimaced. “I have no problem with the reward, as long as we can sell enough drugs to make up the money.” He ran over the plan in his mind. “Why send Joe alone? That’s dangerous if Tess has help.”

  “Don’t you remember what tomorrow is?” Tony didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s Friday. Our rendezvous with Almasi. It’s taken me almost a year to set this up because he doesn’t really trust anyone. And the CIA agents who showed up in that boat didn’t make him any less paranoid. So I have to handle the meet personally.”

  “Why do I have to go?”

  “Because I don’t trust you to stay out of trouble. You don’t speak Spanish. So you’d be stuck at the motel until I got back. And knowing you, you wouldn’t stay there. You’d wander around and likely get hurt.” Tony pulled up beside the tiny village police station, his headlights reflecting off the metal sign proclaiming “POLICIA” in large white letters. “Since your safety’s my responsibility, that means where I go, you go. For now.”

  “So what are we doing here?” Nick asked with a wince. Police of any kind made him nervous. “Are you planning to stick me in a cell for a while?”

  Tony snorted. “It’s a thought, but I doubt Jonas would appreciate it.” He killed the engine and got out of the Jeep. “We’re going to file a missing persons report, or whatever it’s called down here, on Josh and Glen. We have to find out what happened to them. If Tess didn’t take them out, then we have other enemies here. And we need to know who they are.”

  Nick followed him into the police station: a small room containing a bare ceiling fixture with one dim light bulb, a desk with one chair behind it and two more in front, a filing cabinet, a typewriter, a bookcase, and a battered table with papers scattered haphazardly across the top. The combined stench of tobacco, chilies, stale beer, and sour sweat assaulted his nostrils.

  The heavyset Mexican behind the desk looked up from his paperwork and rumbled in Spanish. Tony responded. As they talked, Nick sensed Tony wasn’t happy about something. The cop finally shrugged and sketched a map on a sheet of paper. Tony pocketed the map and turned to Nick.

  “He’s found them. Let’s go.”

  “What’s going on?” Nick demanded as soon as the door closed behind them. “What’s happened to Josh and Glen?”

  “That cop said the local padre came to him just after the parade and told him there were two Americans tied up in a cave not far from here.” Tony’s voice had hardened to ice. “He didn’t have a description of the men, but the odds of it being two other idiots, and not Josh and Glen, are slim to none. So, either Tess ambushed them or someone else did. But we won’t know until we track them down and ask.”

  “Could the ‘someone else’ have been the CIA guys who’re down here looking for Tess?”

  “Maybe. But they’d need a reason, and I can’t think of one.” Tony started the Jeep, flipped on the headlights, and sped off down the dark street. “We’ll have to hurry. The cop was only waiting for some villagers to show up before heading out. I told him we’d handle it alone, but he wouldn’t go for it,” he said as he whipped around a corner and down a side street. “He finally agreed we could go ahead, and they’d follow in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Fifteen minutes? What the hell can we do in fifteen minutes?”

  “We can give them a cover story so they know what to say when that cop gets there.” Tony gunned the motor and ran through a stop sign. “If Tess is the one who captured them, we don’t want the local police looking for her. We can’t be sure whose side they’d take.” He came to the main highway, headed south, and slowed down. “Help me look for the trail. The cop said it wasn’t more than half a mile after we hit the highway.”

  Nick scanned what he could see of the road in the headlights. “What do we want our guys to say?”

  “We’ll tell them to say they got mugged, but they didn’t see their attackers. That’s not real common down here, but it’s not unheard of either.”

  “Then what, do we send Glen and Josh with Joe in the morning?”

  “Not if it was Tess. She’d recognize them. She hasn’t seen Joe, so he’ll have a chance to grab her. We’ll take Glen with us to the rendezvous. Joe can meet us there when he has Tess. But Josh’ll stay with the boat. Just in case Komakov’s here.”

  Nick’s mouth went dry. “You think Levi’s here?”

  “Not really, but why take chances?” Tony slowed to a crawl, glancing between the road, the countryside, and the map. “This looks like the place.”

  Parking the Jeep on the shoulder of the highway, he grabbed a gun and a flashlight from the back and headed up the narrow trail.

  Not wanting to stray far from Tony’s protection, Nick took a gun and flashlight for himself and scrambled after him as fast as his pride would permit.

  ***

  8:05 p.m., La Paz, Baja California Sur:

  “We can’t stay here, you know,” Tess said when the chicken farmer dropped them off near a small, rundown motel. She shivered and rubbed her arms. The evening had turned very cool. “I don’t think that old man will tell anyone he drove us here, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  “You’re cold.” Max wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “And you’re right. He’s a great old guy, but I don’t want to chance it, either. Let’s get a cab and find another motel.”

  Taking her hand, he pulled her through the jubilant crowd.

  Carnival.

  People filled the sidewalks. Music, laughter, conversation, and aromas filled the air. The scents bursting from a taco stand made Tess’s stomach growl with hunger. She loved Mexican festivals—the laughter, costumes, and confetti. Everyone dancing in the street.

  After several blocks, Max found an empty taxi. The driver took them to a nondescript motel across town. “Su Casa Motel” wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and tidy—twelve rooms arranged in a square around a small courtyard.

  She handed him
some cash. “Get a couple of rooms.”

  “One room,” he corrected as he steered her into the bushes beside a dumpster. “And you stay here. I don’t want anyone to see you. If Nick tries to find you by checking with motel clerks, he’ll be asking about a woman alone, or possibly a man and woman together. But he won’t have any reason to ask about one man by himself.”

  Uneasy with the plan, Tess watched him disappear around the corner. His logic made sense, but it would be far too easy to succumb to his charms if they shared a room. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to convince herself she could handle it—as long as she didn’t think about his kisses. By the time he returned with the key, she’d almost succeeded.

  He led her to number ten. “Here we go. Home, sweet home.”

  Opening the door revealed two twin beds, a small table, one chair, and one window covered with beige curtains that didn’t quite meet in the middle. The tiny bathroom didn’t have a bathtub, but it had a toilet, a sink, and a shower.

  “This’ll work,” she told him. “Why don’t I clean up, while you go and see if you can find some clothes that aren’t quite so ragged? We passed that open store just down the street.” She handed him more money. “Then after you shower and change, we’ll get something to eat.”

  He stared at the money then at her, doubt clouding his eyes. “It’s bad enough having you pay for the room and the food, but I don’t like taking your money for clothes. I don’t know when, or even if, I can pay you back.”

  Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate sympathy, she stuck with logic. “It doesn’t matter whose money we use. The bottom line here is to get out of this mess with our lives. Your clothes are too ragged, and they draw attention.”

  Though it took some effort, she managed to keep her voice light. “Besides, I’m picking up more cash from the marina here tomorrow. So I’m good. Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” He set the duffel by the table and headed for the door. “Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  When the door closed behind him, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Christ, the poor man didn’t even know who he was and he was worried about how to pay her back a few measly bucks. What the hell was she going to do with him?

  “Resist him,” she muttered. “Sure. No problem.”

  Pulling out her toiletries, clean underwear, and clothes, she headed for the shower. The hot water eased her tension. Calmed her mind. She let her thoughts drift—and they landed squarely on Max.

  She couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, but that didn’t mean she had to act on it. I’ve just got to make him stop kissing me. He was probably married anyway. Even if he couldn’t remember his wife. As gorgeous as he was, he had to be taken.

  She’d tell him they needed to keep their relationship platonic. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. Just explain that until he knew his situation, an affair wasn’t possible. Besides, romance was a bad bet for her. Love didn’t last in her life. Never had.

  Even as a child, people had turned away from her. Abandoned by her mother when she was nine, just six months after her father died, she’d spent her childhood bouncing from one foster home to another. Except for her father, who’d died and left her alone anyway, no one had ever wanted her.

  She turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. “It’s just the way my life works,” she grumbled. “I expect people to betray me because they always have.”

  True, Max hadn’t. Yet. But give him time, and he probably would. The thought made her want to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

  Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, she walked out of the bathroom. Max had returned and was pulling gauze out of a package.

  “Come and sit down,” he said. “I want to bandage your arm.”

  “That was a quick shopping trip.”

  “The shops were small, and there wasn’t much selection.”

  He put a new dressing on her arm then picked up a bag off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

  With her spirits plummeting, she dried her hair and rehearsed what she needed to say. She had valid reasons not to get involved, damn it. So why should accepting that hurt so much?

  When he came out of the bathroom, she stared at him. He wore a new pair of jeans and a light blue, short-sleeved shirt. His stubble was gone, the scar on his chin more defined. His eyes hinted of wild nights and dangerous passion. God, why did he have to be so tempting? He flashed her a quick, rakish grin, and everything she’d planned to tell him flew right out of her head.

  She tore her eyes away from him and reached for her disguise. “Give me just a minute to throw this on.”

  He crossed to her and took it out of her hands. “You won’t need this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve got my gun. We won’t go far, and we won’t stay out long. Even if Nick knows we’re in La Paz, he doesn’t know exactly where we are. And we won’t be easy to find among the two-hundred-thousand-plus other people in this city, most of whom are out on the streets tonight.”

  His hand grasped the back of her neck and tugged her toward him. “I want to look at you, Tess. Your face, your hair. You.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Nick’s probably still looking for you in the village, so I don’t think we’re in any danger tonight. And we both need to relax a little.” A gentle finger stroked her cheek. “Ready?”

  “Guess so.”

  Stomping down hard on the heat that raced through her veins, she threw on a sweatshirt, trying to remember why their relationship had to stay platonic. She had a good reason. Didn’t she?

  CHAPTER 10

  Max knew Tess wanted him. And had feelings for him. But she was fighting herself on both fronts because her moral code said she hadn’t known him long enough.

  He shook his head. What the hell difference did it make how many days it had been since they met? He knew she was stubborn, brave, warm, generous, and sweet. Jesus, she was sweet. He’d recognize her scent, her voice, and her eyes in a crowd of thousands. What more did he need to know?

  Though he tried to see it from her point of view, he couldn’t quite get there. He respected her reasons, however, and in any other circumstances, he’d back off. Probably back off, he corrected. But with assassins after them, this might be all the time they had together. Besides, he’d gone way beyond the point where he could control his need to make love to her.

  He also knew she needed him as much as he needed her. Yet, she refused to acknowledge her feelings for him, and that hurt.

  And, damn it, he cared about her. She was special. Sure, he wanted her. He was a man, after all. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d gotten to him—wormed her way into his heart, while keeping hers locked up tight. So what was he supposed to do with all this emotion, now that he—

  He blinked, uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were heading. Casting around for something to distract himself with, he glanced at Tess. She walked beside him, silent and alert. The sweatshirt she’d donned against the chill of the evening was almost the same gray as her eyes—eyes that constantly scanned the crowd. Just like his.

  “Tell me something,” he said. “You seem very skilled at surviving on the run. You get training of some kind?”

  “Not exactly. After I escaped the FBI safe house, I went to a friend’s place. He’s an attorney. I told him I planned to run. He wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed to sell my business for me and send me the funds when I needed them. He’s a member of a yacht club and told me I could get mail through a marina most anywhere in the world. So we set up codes for marinas and boat names.

  “Shit,” she muttered as she jumped out of the path of a clown on stilts, weaving around like a drunk. “Idiot’s going to break his neck. Anyway, I took off the next day. First big town I came to after I left Utah, I headed for a public library. I used their computers to get on the internet and rea
d everything I could find on how to disappear and not be found.”

  She shrugged. “Then I learned what I could about Special Forces tactics—moving silently, how to tell if someone was following me. That kind of thing. After that it was just living it.”

  “I’ll be damned. That’s pretty smart. Is that when you researched the Mormon mafia?”

  She nodded but seemed to shrink into herself, making him sorry he’d brought it up.

  Slipping an arm around her, he drew her close. When she stiffened, he sighed. “Jesus, angel, I’m not going to jump you.” He moved his hands to her neck and rubbed her tensed muscles. “Relax. You’re way too uptight.”

  “I’m not used to relaxing. At least not since last May.” Coming to a stop, she moaned as he massaged the knots in her shoulders. “It’s not that I don’t like festivals. I do,” she said, ducking her head as another clown came by, this one tossing confetti at people’s faces. “But after seeing Nick in the village, I feel the need to hide.” She wiped the bits of paper off her cheeks. “Out here, I feel totally exposed. Like I’m running buck naked through a park.”

  “Now, that sounds like a great idea. Where can we find a park around here?”

  He felt some of her tension ease as she snorted. “Don’t even think it.”

  “Hey, a man’s got a right to dream.”

  His stomach rumbled, demanding to be fed. He looked around then led her down the street to where a band, consisting of a guitarist, a drummer, and a female singer with maracas, had set up on the sidewalk. Music—happy and bursting with rhythm—blared from amplifiers hung on a lamppost.