Dangerous Desires

by Dee Davis

  “Well, everything’s ready here,” Tyler said, standing up and brushing the dust off her shirt and pants. “I’d just feel better if Drake were back.”

  “I know, but Nash is right.” Avery frowned. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. And it’s not like we don’t have a contingency plan. Drake knows to head for the coast if something goes wrong.”

  “Don’t worry.” Nash reached out a hand to reassure Tyler. “He’ll make it back. He’s just waiting for the right moment. You know how he likes to make an entrance.”

  They all laughed, but despite the effort the tension still stretched tight. They’d been in worse situations, but Nash still didn’t like the odds. They were surrounded by di Silva’s men, and someone, most probably someone they knew, had fucked with Tyler’s equipment.

  This wasn’t the first time the team had come up against deliberate sabotage. They’d had problems on at least three of their last missions, twice with almost deadly results. And it was hard to ignore the very real possibility that it was someone with a connection to A-Tac. Nash drew the line at suspecting his friends. It was impossible to even consider the idea. But with this latest episode, he knew it was going to be hard to convince the powers that be that no one from the unit was involved.

  “We’ll figure it all out,” Avery said. “We always do. But right now, we’ve got to focus on blowing the explosives and getting the hell out of here.”

  Nash nodded, pushing away his unsettled thoughts. Avery was right—they needed to focus on the now.

  “How do you want to do this?” Avery asked, pushing to his feet to eye the area immediately outside the door.

  “They’ve got men positioned on the cliffs to the north and south. And unfortunately, people at the mouth of the clearing. They haven’t been able to get any farther than that because the opening is so narrow that even with cover from the cliffs I can still pick the bastards off. So far I’ve gotten five.”

  “But you won’t have the same advantage when we move into the open,” Tyler said.

  “No.” He shook his head, joining Avery at the mouth of the temple. “And thanks to Madeline’s defection, we’ve lost Drake. Which leaves only the three of us.”

  “Not the worst of odds.” Avery shrugged.

  “All right,” Tyler said, “give me a second to get things set, and then we’re out of here.”

  “You’re going to wait to blow it until we’re aboard, right?”

  “Yes,” she affirmed. “With everything di Silva’s got sequestered here, it’s going to be one hell of a bang. I want to give the chopper a chance to take off before the reverberation from the explosion hits.”

  “And we want to give Drake as much time as possible to make it back.”

  Tyler’s expression turned grim. “Once that thing blows, no one is going to make it back to the courtyard from that direction.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Nash whispered, anger coloring his voice. “We shouldn’t have let him go after her.”

  “Delivering Ms. Reynard to Washington is a primary directive of our mission. If it hadn’t been Drake, someone else would have had to go,” Avery said. “Let’s just concentrate on doing what we have to do and trust that Drake will take care of himself. You ready?”

  Nash nodded as Tyler began to activate her improvised incendiary devices. The danger was that some other source—a stray radio wave, a cell phone frequency, or even the reverb from gunfire—would inadvertently provide the right signal to detonate the jury-rigged bombs before the team could reach the rendezvous spot.

  Nash and Avery came through the doorway firing, bullets exploding at their heels as they zigzagged across the terrace toward the steps leading down to the courtyard. Tyler followed a few seconds later, the modified detonator cradled in her hand. The three of them moved down the steps one at a time, alternating as they provided each other with covering fire.

  At the bottom they huddled behind a fallen statue, Tyler checking her watch as Avery searched the sky for the helicopter and Nash watched anxiously for some sign of Drake.

  “I think I hear it,” Avery said. “Either way it’s time for us to move.” He nodded toward the entrance to the ruins where several of di Silva’s men had managed to take up position behind fallen masonry. “It’s going to be a hell of a gauntlet.”

  “You and Tyler go first; I’ll cover you.” Nash nodded, waving his gun toward the pool at the end of the courtyard.

  Tyler nodded, and, after a silent count of three, she and Avery sprinted off toward the rendezvous. Nash popped up with his submachine gun, spraying bullets across the opening of the gorge. Two of di Silva’s men went down and another retreated into the relative safety of the jungle.

  Tyler and Avery dropped behind another statue, this one fully intact, providing solid cover. Avery motioned Nash forward, and with one last look behind him, Nash pushed away from the fallen statue and made his way toward them. Bullets whizzed past him as Tyler and Avery worked to keep the shooters at bay.

  From somewhere behind him he heard movement, and acting purely on instinct, he swung around and fired. A man about ten feet away dropped to his knees. Moving off an extra burst of adrenaline, Nash ran forward, diving down beside Avery and Tyler. Above them, Nash could hear the sound of the chopper approaching.

  “There’s our ride,” Avery said, nodding toward the helicopter. “He’s not going to have much time before they get a fix on him. We need to get a move on now.”

  Again, Avery and Tyler made the first foray out into the open, Nash keeping them covered as best he could. The gunmen above on the cliffs had increased in number, which meant that di Silva’s forces were strengthening. If they were going to make it, they had to get out now.

  Nash shot another look up toward the terrace, but saw no sign of Drake. It was tempting to go after him. To discard everything else but the need to find his friend. Drake would do the same for him. He was certain of it.

  He popped up from behind the statue, shooting another round, already anticipating his sprint back up the steps. Then, off to his right, he heard a cry. Spinning around, he saw Tyler clutch her side.

  Avery had already made it to the pool, taking refuge behind the altar stone. In front of him, Tyler fell to her knees, just as the chopper broke through the clouds above the clearing.

  Moving almost as one, Nash and Avery sprang into action, the two of them meeting at Tyler’s side. Nash provided covering fire as Avery scooped Tyler into his arms and the three of them moved back to the relative safety of the altar.

  Tyler’s breathing was labored, her chest stained dark crimson, and there was already a bluish tinge to her lips. He’d seen enough field wounds to know that if they didn’t hurry there was a chance she’d bleed out.

  “We’ve got to go. Now,” Nash yelled above the sound of the helicopter hovering just out of gun range, awaiting their signal.

  Tyler moaned and shook her head, her lips moving but the resulting sound not strong enough to carry her words. Nash bent closer. “The detonator,” she whispered, her voice raspy, almost inaudible. “I dropped it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Nash said, alarmed at the amount of blood seeping into her shirt. “Right now we just need to get you out of here.”

  “No dice, Nash,” Tyler said, struggling against Avery. “I didn’t go through all this to fail. Please. Go back for the detonator.”

  Nash recognized the determination in her eyes. “All right. I’ll go. But you two get on the chopper and if I can’t make it back, you get the hell out of here anyway.”

  Avery frowned, his face tight with worry. “You think you can do it?”

  “I’ve got to try.”

  Avery nodded, and Nash sprinted out into the open, keeping low to avoid the bullets strafing across the cobblestones. When he reached the place that Tyler had fallen, he crouched to have a look, rolling twice to miss incoming shots, but the detonator was nowhere to be seen. As the shooting increased, he dove behind the fallen rubble of a wall, still sear
ching the area in front for signs of Tyler’s missing equipment.

  Off to his right, he could just make out Avery behind the altar, flashing a small mirror, signaling the chopper above.

  There were only seconds left, and Nash still couldn’t see the detonator. He recreated Tyler’s fall in his mind, tracing the possible trajectories for the device as she fell, his gaze following the newly directed paths. And sure enough, there it was, jammed between two of the beveled cobblestones.

  As the helicopter descended, he ran out from behind the rubble, bending to snatch the detonator as he passed, but the thing refused to budge. In front of him, he could see Jason leaning out of the chopper helping Avery to get Tyler safely inside as the pilot worked to keep the helicopter steady while the copilot opened fire on di Silva’s men, who were now swarming into the clearing.

  Gritting his teeth, Nash felt a bullet graze his back as he bent again to try to pull the detonator out of the crevice. This time it slipped free, and on a dead run he made his way toward the chopper, stopping when he reached the safety of the altar.

  Nash lifted his gaze to the helicopter, waiting as Avery climbed inside. Then, with a last look back at the terrace, Nash pressed the button on the detonator, the resulting flash of light and sound almost instantaneous.

  The chopper shook ominously as the blast waves radiated across the courtyard. The bird started to move as Nash jumped for the door, Avery reaching out to pull him safely inside.

  Below them the temple and its terraces burned, rocks and debris raining down, the sky black with smoke. Tyler lay in the back of the chopper, eyes closed, as Jason worked to stanch the bleeding.

  Anger washed through him as Nash turned his face toward the jungle. Below him, he searched the terrace and the jungle behind it for some sign that Drake had survived. Jorge di Silva had a lot to answer for. And Nash had every intention of making sure he paid.

  CHAPTER 8

  Drake stopped near an ancient tree, scanning the jungle for some sign of Madeline. Thanks to the recent rains, he’d managed to follow her footsteps most of the way. But the last hundred feet or so her prints had been obscured by a second set—a man’s.

  Frowning, he settled his gaze on something blue caught on one of the tree’s roots. Dropping to his knees, he reached under the twisted wood to free the garment. Madeline’s shirt.

  Just beyond the tree, the ferns and plants by the trail were trampled. With a silent curse, he made his way over the roots, stopping on the other side to examine the broken stems and leaves. The trampled trail stretched off to the south, the second set of footprints also visible in the thick mud that covered the jungle floor.

  Drake drew his gun and moved forward, keeping to the deep shadows of the trees, searching the area as he moved. Somewhere ahead of him, the shrill sound of a scream broke through the silence. But it could have come from anything. A bird, a monkey—Madeline.

  He started forward, then skidded to a stop as the world behind him quite literally exploded. A dark plume of smoke spiraled into the air, debris and ash raining down on the jungle. For a moment he let his gaze fix on the pillar of smoke, eyes searching the horizon for signs of a helicopter, something to prove that his friends had made it out alive.

  “Is anyone there?” he asked, switching on the com unit.

  Static filled his ear as the reverberations of the explosion rocked the ground beneath his feet. Above him, silhouetted against the rising sun, he could just make out what looked to be a helicopter. Releasing a breath, Drake allowed himself a second of relief. Tyler had clearly managed to blow the weapons cache. Which left only one thing undone.

  Finding Madeline.

  With renewed determination, Drake pushed forward through the thick undergrowth, continuing to follow the path of broken leaves and branches. Additional explosions rocked through the area as the weapons continued to burn, but his mind was focused now on what he was going to find ahead of him.

  No matter how angry he was at her for running away and putting the team at risk, he knew that if di Silva got his hands on Madeline again, she probably wouldn’t live to talk about it. “Avery, can you hear me?” he whispered again into his com device.

  There was static and then silence. Even though he had visual proof that his friends had escaped, his gut clenched at the idea that somehow di Silva’s men had managed to bring the helicopter down. If they were dead—

  The thought was interrupted by another scream.

  Sprinting now, he crashed through the jungle, heedless of how much noise he made, every instinct he possessed telling him he had only seconds to act. Bursting through the undergrowth into a clearing, he saw Madeline pinned against an outcropping of rock, the ragged edge of a cliff only a few feet behind her. The man who held her had his fingers around her throat.

  Without stopping to think, Drake lifted the gun and shot, the bullet hitting the man’s right shoulder. Gasping in surprise and pain, the man released Madeline, swinging around to face Drake as he simultaneously reached for his gun.

  Madeline’s eyes widened as she recognized Drake, and then with a little nod, she dropped to the ground, rolling away from the stranger. Drake took the shot as soon as Madeline was out of range, cutting to the left to miss the assailant’s bullet.

  The impact of Drake’s shot drove the man backward, and for a moment he teetered on the edge of the cliff, gun raised as he tried to shoot again. But Drake was faster, his gun’s report filling the clearing, the third bullet driving the man over the edge of the precipice.

  “You all right?” he asked as he moved to the edge of the cliff.

  “I’m better now,” Madeline replied, scrambling to her feet to stand beside him. “Is he dead?”

  “Yeah,” Drake said. “Two hundred feet will do that to a guy. Not a friend of yours, I take it?”

  “No. Although he was definitely interested in getting better acquainted,” she said. “Until I kneed him in the balls.”

  “Takes the romance out of it every time.”

  “I don’t think romance was ever part of the equation.” She shook her head, and for the first time, Drake noticed the bruises on her shoulders and neck.

  “Jesus,” he said, reaching out to touch the purpling skin. “I shouldn’t have made light of the situation. Looks like the bastard really hurt you. Are you sure you’re okay?” He felt gently along the line of her collarbone. “I don’t think anything’s broken.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, pulling away, the loss of contact oddly disarming. “It’s just bruises. Believe me, I’ve been through worse. But if you hadn’t gotten here when you did…” She stopped, and then shrugged. “Seems that I owe you—again.”

  “It’s just part of the job.” He shook his head, studying her for a moment, then with a frown, he turned back to the cliff edge. “Is he one of di Silva’s?”

  Madeline nodded. “I recognize him from the grounds of Casa de Orquídea. Just a low-level flunky.”

  “With an appetite for taking what doesn’t belong to him.” Drake’s jaw tightened as he considered what had almost happened here, surprised at the depth of his anger.

  “But I’m okay,” she said, laying a hand on his arm, her fingers warm against his skin. “He didn’t hurt me. Not in any way that matters.” She waited for a moment, and then stepped back, shading her eyes as she looked up at the smoky sky. “I heard the blast.”

  “Fireworks courtesy of Tyler.” He nodded. “She managed to blow the cache.”

  “Di Silva and his people are going to want blood.”

  “Without a doubt,” he said. “And, at the moment, we’re sitting ducks. We made enough noise to draw out an army, so if your man down there has got friends, they’re probably on their way. ”

  She frowned, scanning the surrounding jungle. “I thought you guys had an evacuation plan.”

  “Past tense. I’m afraid that ship has sailed—or flown, as the case may be. I saw the helicopter take off just after the weapons blew.”

  “So they ju
st left us?”

  “You didn’t give them much choice. Your defection cost both of us our chance at an easy way out. If you’d stayed put like I told you—”

  “I did what I thought was best,” she said, her tone defensive. “I figured I’d be better off on my own.”

  “Right,” he said, irritation swelling. What was it with the two of them? They couldn’t seem to hold on to the peace for five fucking seconds. “That’d explain the maniac with his hands around your throat.”

  “I hadn’t counted on di Silva’s men coming from this direction,” she admitted. “Anyway, I would have figured a way out.”

  “Look,” he ground out, his hands clenching, “if I hadn’t arrived when I did, you’d be dead.”

  She blew out a breath, shoulders slumping. “I know.” The admission was almost too soft to hear, but even so, Drake understood what the words had cost her. “But they didn’t have to leave us behind.”

  “They had no choice. I asked you if there was a second way out. If you’d told me the truth we could have planned our exit differently. And more safely. As it was, your omission put my entire team at risk. They had to blow the cache and then make a run for it straight through the line of fire.”

  “But you said they made it out all right.”

  “I said I saw the helicopter. There’s no way of knowing if everyone was on it.”

  “So we’ll go back and check.” It was a noble gesture, and from what he could see sincerely offered.

  “Impossible.” He shook his head. “When Tyler detonated the explosion, it cut the ruins off from this part of the jungle.”

  “So the only person I really hurt—was me,” she said with a little sigh of relief. “And you, I suppose.”

  “You’re not listening. If you’d told us the truth, we’d have all been able to use the lower path, and Jason could have brought the helicopter to a clearing like this one instead of having to make a landing in the middle of a firefight.”