Dangerous Desires

by Dee Davis

  And with that, they were off. Nash and Drake on point, Tyler flanking Madeline, and Avery bringing up the rear. As they neared the opening in the rocks, Drake fanned to the left and Nash moved to the right, the two of them keeping low as they circled cautiously toward the gorge.

  About fifteen feet from the entrance to the ruins, Drake stopped and held up his hand.

  Avery touched his head, and Madeline nodded, reaching up to turn on the communication device they’d given her.

  “I’m not seeing anyone,” Drake said, his voice absurdly intimate as it resonated against her ear.

  “Me either,” Nash responded. “But that doesn’t mean there’s no one there. It’s hard to see anything beyond the rocks.” Madeline watched as they inched forward, guns at the ready, Nash crossing to the far side of the gorge as they passed between the rocky sentries.

  The silence stretched out as they waited, and then her earpiece sprang to life. “We’re clear,” Drake said.

  Madeline followed Avery and Tyler as they made their way through the gorge and into the ruins. Inside, the ground leveled out into a circular clearing paved with small beveled-edge stones. The stream cut through the middle, widening into a peaceful series of concentric ponds that formed channels leading to a central pool. The edges were adorned with carvings, forgotten images of a vanished culture.

  To the left on the far side of the clearing statues stood silently along the edge of the enclosure, their faces worn and ravaged with time. On the right of the stream, jagged steps rose from the jungle floor to a platform leading to what must have once been a temple or tomb. Parts of the stone structure had collapsed, and there were vegetation-filled gaps in the masonry, but the doorway stood solid, its dark mouth gaping open. The sound of the waterfall punctuated the calls of the birds and somewhere in the distance the chittering of monkeys.

  “Looks like we’re definitely alone,” Tyler said, as she and Madeline joined Drake in the main courtyard. Nash and Avery had moved to the far side of the stream, surveying the area for any sign of activity.

  “I don’t like it.” Drake shook his head, his eyes narrowed as he turned to Madeline. “I thought you said there were supposed to be guards?”

  “There were.” She nodded, trying not to squirm under the heat of his gaze. “At least when I was here before.”

  “Maybe di Silva called them back to the compound,” Nash said, as he and Avery joined them on the terraced paving. “There’s no sign of anyone.”

  “It gives me the creeps,” Tyler said, her gaze shooting around the clearing, still scanning for danger.

  Drake moved away from them, kneeling beside the pool to examine one of the carvings. Without thinking, Madeline followed him. “Any idea what they are?” she asked.

  “Petroglyphs,” he answered, without looking up, his fingers tracing the curve of a spiral and then the scarlet-edged line of what appeared to be a crested bird. “Sacred ones, if I had to guess. Created by jeques or priests.” He brushed off his hands and pushed to his feet, his gaze moving across the ruins. “This was definitely a ceremonial place.”

  “You seem to know a lot about it,” she said.

  “There actually isn’t a lot known about the ancient peoples who inhabited this part of Colombia. But I know enough to recognize what we’re seeing here.”

  “He knows a lot more than he’s letting on,” Tyler said, coming to join them. “When he’s not out to save the world, Drake’s a rather noted archaeologist.”

  “Tyler, as usual, exaggerates,” he said.

  “So what’s with the stone over there?” Tyler asked, as Madeline tried to place this newest information in context with her earlier impressions of Drake Flynn.

  Drake moved his gaze to a tilting table of rock near the steps leading to the temple. “Most likely a sacrificial altar of some kind.”

  “Maybe it’s just as well we don’t know the details.” Nash frowned as he joined them. “Sounds like a bloodthirsty lot.”

  “And a long dead one,” Avery said, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. “What’s more important now is the fact that this place is deserted.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was right and di Silva’s been playing us and the weapons have been moved.”

  “No,” Madeline insisted. “They’re here. I’d know if they’d been moved.”

  “For a mistress, you seem to have been privy to some pretty important information,” Drake commented, his gaze dismissive.

  “I told you I made it my business to keep my ear to the ground,” she spat out, anger threatening her composure. Forcing herself to breathe, she turned to Avery. “The weapons are here. I swear it.”

  “Well, the only way to be certain,” Nash said, cutting through the building tension, “is to check it out.”

  With a grunt and a nod, Drake agreed, moving up the steps. Madeline clenched her fists and then followed. Tyler and Nash followed behind her as they made their way to the top, Avery staying behind to watch the clearing. Inside the temple, they were faced with more petroglyphs and a crumbling interior. Fallen stones and broken statuary littered the floor.

  “Avery was right.” Tyler frowned as she shone her flashlight around the room. “There’s nothing here.”

  “There’s a hell of a lot here,” Drake whispered, lost in his reverie again as he reached down to retrieve a small earthenware pot with tripod legs. “Just not the weapons.”

  “There’s a doorway leading to another room behind there,” Madeline said, aiming her flashlight at a half-tumbled-down wall. “The stash is inside.”

  She watched as Drake reluctantly set the pot down and then the two of them followed Tyler and Nash around the fallen wall. In front of them a doorway opened into a shadow-filled room, the carved lintel seeming ornate after the simplicity of the anteroom.

  “Maybe you should go first,” Tyler whispered to Drake, her voice tinged with reverence. “I feel like we’re going somewhere we shouldn’t.”

  “Whatever magic this place held, it’s long gone,” Drake said, sweeping across the room with his flashlight. Crates were stacked five deep, reaching almost to the ceiling, each stamped with the language of its original owner—Russian, English, Chinese.

  Tyler pried open one of the closest crates, revealing a stack of machine guns nestled against packing material. A second crate revealed explosives—grenades and other incendiary devices—this one from the ex–Soviet Union.

  “Jesus,” Nash whispered, pulling out a digital camera, “there’s enough here to fight a fucking war.”

  “I had no idea,” Madeline breathed. “I’ve never actually been in here.”

  “Then how the hell did you know this was here?” Drake asked.

  “I saw the boxes being carried in.” She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t think I knew what was inside.” A blatant lie. Without the information she’d stolen, Ortiz wouldn’t have been able to acquire half of the munitions here.

  Drake eyed her for a moment, his gaze speculative, but before he could question her, Avery’s voice crackled in her ear.

  “Just checking in. You guys all right?”

  “Yeah.” Drake nodded, turning away from her to talk with his boss. “How about you? Any sign of intruders?”

  “It’s still quiet,” Avery replied, “but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if we could just be done with this thing. You find the weapons?”

  “They’re here,” Drake answered. “Just like she said. One-stop shopping for terrorists. My guess is that di Silva’s been stockpiling for months. They’re documenting it now.”

  “And, Tyler, you’ll be able to take it out?” Avery asked.

  “Should be able to. But it’s going to be a hell of a blast. Which means it won’t be much of a secret. We’ll have to be ready to move when it goes.”

  “You’re going to blow it all up?” Madeline asked with a frown. She’d known they were going to destroy the weapons, but she hadn’t realized that meant the ruins as well. Her heart twisted.

&n
bsp; “We don’t have a choice.” Drake’s somber gaze met hers. “There’s no time to move them. And we can’t risk their being sold.”

  She nodded. “I just think it’s sad. I mean, all of this—it’s survived for so long…” she trailed off, not sure what else to say.

  “Sometimes,” he said, “we have to make sacrifices for the greater good.” The words were clipped but she could hear the note of pain in his voice. Every action had a price. And this one was costing Drake Flynn.

  “Hey, Madeline,” Tyler called, frowning down at the duffel holding her equipment, “would you mind giving me some more light over here?”

  “Sure.” Grateful for the distraction, Madeline nodded as she grabbed a flashlight and headed over to Tyler.

  “Avery?” Drake called into his mic. “You still there?”

  “Roger that.”

  “Have you heard anything from Jason?”

  “Yes,” Avery replied, his voice thready in Madeline’s ear. “He’s in place. But he still hasn’t been able to contact Hannah. Between the mountains and the trees there’s just too much interference. Hopefully he’ll be able to rig something. But in the meantime, we’re on our own.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem as long as it stays quiet,” Nash said as he snapped another photo.

  Madeline lifted the flashlight and held it over Tyler’s shoulder, illuminating the duffel’s contents. Tyler sorted through her equipment, sighing as she pulled out several of the components.

  “Is something wrong?” Drake asked, moving over to join them.

  “Yeah,” Tyler sighed, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Someone’s had a go at my bag. Everything’s been tampered with. The equipment’s totally fucked. There’s no way this stuff is going to blow anything.”

  CHAPTER 6

  How the hell could the explosives have been compromised?” Avery asked, as Drake joined them at the mouth of the clearing. Madeline had been uneasy ever since they’d left the airfield, but now suddenly the weight of what she was doing hit her full force.

  If Ortiz caught up with her, she was a dead woman.

  She glanced around the clearing, sizing up the opportunities for escape. If things went well, she’d let them get her out of the country, and then make her move. But if things went south—and it was beginning to look as if that was going to be the case—the only choice she had was to make her escape on her own.

  She owed these people nothing.

  “I’ve got no idea. Tyler says she checked everything before we left. So your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, the point is that all of it’s trashed,” Drake was saying. “And if Jason can’t get through to Hannah, it’s going to be the blind leading the blind as far as knowing if di Silva is in the area.”

  “I’m going to go talk with Tyler,” Avery said. “Drake, you stay here with Madeline.”

  “But I…” she started, but Drake cut her off with a crooked smile.

  “Not a problem. I’ll be happy to keep watch.” His gaze swept slowly from her head to her toes, leaving a trail of heat as it passed. “Over everything.”

  Madeline sucked in a breath, hardly noticing as Avery walked away, her eyes locked on Drake’s, her stomach clenching in anticipation of something she wasn’t even certain she wanted to define. He reached out, the pad of his thumb running gently below the line of the swelling beneath her eye.

  “So how did you get the bruise?”

  She lifted her chin, trying to ignore the spirals of pleasure emanating from his touch. “I colored outside the lines.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” he said, his fingers moving to cup her chin, his gaze probing. She swallowed, but held her own, determined not to let him see how easily he’d gotten to her. “Still, I never would have figured you for a drug lord’s mistress.”

  Her mind cleared, and she jerked away, anger flashing. “Sometimes there isn’t a choice. You do what you have to do.” And sometimes the price paid was too high. But she wasn’t about to share that fact. Instead, she tilted her head, studying his face. “You don’t think much of me, do you?”

  “I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion. But if there’s one thing this job has taught me, it’s that everyone is working an angle. I just haven’t figured yours out yet.”

  “It’s simple,” she shrugged, reaching up to highlight her bruise. “I want out.”

  “Nothing’s ever simple, darlin’.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, the lines around his mouth turning harsh. “Believe me, that’s a fact.” He turned his back then, staring out at the rocks flanking the entrance of the clearing. The air hummed with insects and in the distance Madeline heard the plaintive cry of a macaw.

  She started to retort and then shook her head. There was no sense in arguing. And besides, it was perfectly clear that he didn’t want to talk. So with a pointed sigh, she made a play of exploring the upper terrace, trying to ignore the man behind her. But after about fifteen minutes, she couldn’t take the silence.

  “If the situation is compromised”—Madeline frowned, coming to a stop in front of him—“wouldn’t it be better to cut our losses and get out of here? Maybe it’s better if you just finish documenting the site and then come back and destroy it when you have the right equipment.”

  “We can’t take that chance,” Drake said, still not looking at her. “By the time we organized a second mission, di Silva would have had the opportunity to move everything. He’s certainly going to be on high alert with you gone. Which means it won’t be long before he sends his people back in here.”

  “All the more reason why we should leave,” she said. “Especially when you add in the bit about sabotage. That most certainly didn’t come from di Silva. Which means someone else wants this mission to fail.”

  “Like maybe you?” he asked as he spun around to face her.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she spat, forgetting all about keeping her cool. “Sabotaging your efforts would be like signing my own death warrant. Do I look like I want to die?”

  “I told you, I don’t know what to make of you.” His eyes were the palest blue she’d ever seen—like ice—cold and potentially deadly. “But you’re as likely a suspect as anyone else.”

  “You love thinking the worst of people, don’t you?” she prodded, even though she knew it was dangerous to goad him. For some reason the man seemed to bring out her baser instincts.

  “Maybe it’s just you,” he said, stepping closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Or maybe Jason was right. Maybe this was the plan all along. Isolate us in a narrow-necked gorge with no other means of retreat.”

  “God, you’re an ass,” she said, her face hot with anger. “Figures I’d ask for help and they’d send you.”

  “If I’d known what a treat it was going to be to rescue you, believe me, I’d have stayed in New York.” His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek, and she was surprised by the urge to reach up and soothe him.

  “If wishes were horses…” she said instead, turning away, fighting her rioting emotions.

  “Look, maybe I was a little quick to judge.” The words weren’t exactly an apology, but it was pretty damn close.

  She turned back to face him. “I didn’t set you up.” Something flickered in his eyes. “But you don’t really believe that, do you? You’re just angry, and lashing out at me is the easiest way to deal with it.”

  “Yeah, right.” His expression shuttered, but not before she had the chance to see that she’d hit a nerve, and then he turned away, cupping a hand over his ear as he listened to someone on the other side of his earpiece. “Copy that.”

  “What?” Madeline asked, hands on hips. She’d left her earpiece in the temple. Damn thing hurt. “What did they say?”

  “Tyler’s managed to salvage some of her equipment. She’s jury-rigging the explosion now.”

  “So what’s with the face?” Madeline queried. “You look like you want to hit something. Clearly everything’s not all right.”

&nbs
p; “The original plan was to make our way to the rendezvous and blow the weapons cache remotely from there. That way we’d be out of the area before di Silva had the chance to mount any kind of response.”

  “And now?”

  “Tyler’s going to have to blow it from here.”

  “Which means if di Silva’s men are anywhere in the vicinity, he’ll know where we are.”

  “Yes.” He nodded, his expression grim. “Jason’s trying to arrange an evac from here—”

  “But he can’t contact your people in the States to change the plans.”

  “Exactly. Not the best of situations.” For a moment he looked almost human, but then his jaw tightened again, and his eyes flickered with resolve. “But everything’s going to be fine. We’ll get you out of here.”

  She nodded, biting back a retort. Sometimes it was better to stay silent.

  “You’ve told us everything, right?” He rounded on her, apparently intent on resuming hostilities. “The only way out of here is through the opening in the rocks?”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, considering for a second telling him the truth about the other path—the one down to the pool. But she’d learned long ago that she was better off establishing her own back door. If necessary she’d come clean later. For now, she’d keep the information to herself.

  “Right,” she said. “There’s nothing else. Unless you can climb over those cliffs.” She nodded toward the stark walls of rock on the two flanking sides of the clearing.

  He stared at her a moment, his gaze intense, and she fought to keep from flinching. Then he shrugged. “We could do it if we had to. Believe me, we’ve climbed worse.”

  She had no doubt that he was telling the truth. Whatever else she might think of the man, he’d proved himself more than capable. “Did they say anything about how long—”

  “Sssh.” He shook his head, his voice a whisper, his attention centered on the trees at the mouth of the gap leading from the clearing to the jungle. “Stay here.” He started forward, leading with his gun, and she waited a second and then followed.

  “Madeline,” he hissed.