by Dee Davis
“No.” Ortiz shook his head, even though the other man couldn’t see him. “He’s already failed once. I’ll handle this myself.”
“Just be careful,” Brecht said. “These people are clearly playing for keeps. And I’d hate to see you become a liability.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve had dealings with the CIA before. It won’t be a problem.”
“See that it isn’t.” Brecht hung up, and Ortiz stood staring down at the receiver. He’d need to call di Silva. Apprise him of this newest development. And then he’d head for Magdalena. This time there was no room for failure. There could only be one reason Madeline was going back to San Mateo.
Tucker Flynn.
She might not know the whole truth. But she was well on her way. And if she and her cohorts managed to spring Tucker from prison, everything Ortiz had worked to accomplish would be destroyed.
He lifted his glass, then downed the contents.
Madeline Reynard had to be stopped.
CHAPTER 25
Magdalena wasn’t much more than a collection of ramshackle houses and a half dozen rutted roads. Its municipal services were limited to water, electricity, and a rickety bus that traveled to Quibdo and back twice a week. All vehicles owned by the village were kept on a small lot behind the town hall surrounded by a chain-link fence.
Standing beside the fence, Madeline looked up at the prison towering over the town like something out of a horror movie. She’d never thought she’d be this close to San Mateo again. She shivered even though the night was warm, the cold metal of her gun pressing against her back, and she couldn’t help but think about how much her life had changed over the past few days.
It had taken a little convincing on Drake’s part to get Nash and Annie to agree to allow Madeline to be part of the rescue attempt. But in the end, they’d given the okay, agreeing that Madeline’s firsthand knowledge of the prison could come in handy should they hit a snag.
At the moment, Drake and Nash were busy at the parking-lot gate working to open the padlock holding it shut. Annie had already gone up the mountain to do a little recon. And Hannah was locked inside the hacienda doing her cyber thing, trying to finalize preparations to hijack the prison security systems. She’d already managed to tap into the electrical grid and deal with the warden’s phone lines.
Madeline stood for a moment, feeling useless, and then Drake motioned for her as the gate swung open. Her gaze swept the darkened buildings surrounding the lot, looking for something to indicate they’d been spotted. But the neighborhood remained quiet, the only movement the silent swaying of the towering palms.
Following Drake and Nash, she slipped inside the gate. The parking lot was shadowed, the only light coming from the single street lamp at the gate. There were four vehicles parked on the broken asphalt: a battered police cruiser, a taxi, the aforementioned bus, and the Energia Electrica van.
“While you guys get the van going, I’ll disable the other cars,” Nash said, loping off into the darkness, his pack slung over his back.
Drake reached up to open the driver’s side door, dumping his backpack onto the seat as he stepped up into the cab.
“What are you going to do?” Madeline asked. “Hotwire it?”
“It’s a possibility. But if Colombian utility workers are anything like Americans, we may not have to.” He reached up and flipped the visor down, a key falling into his hand. “Told you.” He grinned, sliding the key into the ignition, the van’s engine springing to life.
“I guess Magdalena isn’t all that different from Cypress Bluff,” she said as she pulled open the passenger door and climbed inside.
She climbed into the back of the van as Nash hopped into the front seat next to Drake. “Everything’s good. Those cars won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”
“All right then, I guess it’s time to head up the mountain.” Drake drove the van out of the lot, keeping the headlights off to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. Madeline stowed their gear under a tarp that they’d brought, as Drake turned onto the mountain road, switching on the headlights as he followed the mountain’s twisting curves. “Hannah,” he said, activating his mic. “You there?”
“I am,” she said, the line full of static.
Madeline watched as Drake’s hands tightened on the wheel. “You get a bead on Tucker’s location?”
“Nothing but what Madeline already told us,” she said, regret coloring her voice. “The west cell block. But I’m still working on it. Hopefully by the time you make it inside, I’ll have the information we need.”
“Listen,” Nash reassured, “all we’re asking right now is that you get us past the front gate.”
“As far as that goes I’ve done my part. The rest is up to you.” She paused, the com going silent for a moment, and then she was back. “Hang on,” she said. “Let me patch you through to Annie.”
“Hey, guys.” Annie sounded farther away than Hannah, but her voice was clearer. “Everything going okay?”
“Right as rain,” Nash said, his voice more ebullient now that he was talking to his wife. Madeline fought against a wave of envy. It was hard not to want what they had. “And we’re coming your way. Any activity at your end?”
“Nothing much at all. There are two guards on the gate. And one in the back tower. Other than that I haven’t seen anyone else on the perimeter.”
“How about inside?” Drake asked.
“Can’t see anything. The only windows are on the back side, looking out into the yard. So there’s no way to tell who’s on the inside. But from what I can see, I’d be surprised to find more than a couple of people on the cell blocks. I can see a light on in the warden’s building. But again, I haven’t seen anyone. Could just be a night light. But figure it’s better to be prepared.”
“What about your angles? You going to be okay if you have to take out the tower guard?” Nash asked.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Same for the guys at the gate. I can take them out, too, if necessary.”
“Fingers crossed, it doesn’t come to that,” Nash said. “And in the meantime, keep your head down.”
“I promise,” she said, her voice tight with emotion. “Same to you.”
“All right, Hannah,” Drake said as they slowed to approach the prison gate. “We’re here. You’re sure the lights are on the fritz?” As if on cue the lights in the gatehouse flickered off and then on again.
“Damn,” Nash said. “You’re good.”
“I aim to please.” Hannah laughed, then sobered. “Good luck.”
“Roger that,” Drake said. “Madeline, get under the tarp.”
Grabbing the gun, she slid underneath the canvas, adjusting her position so that she could still see Drake and Nash. Drake slowed as he approached the guardhouse, rolling down his window.
“Hear you guys are having some trouble with your electricity,” he said, his Spanish passing for local. “The company sent us to fix it, pronto.”
“Where’s José?” the man asked, his eyes narrowed speculatively. “He’s always the one who comes when we’ve got problems.”
Drake hesitated, Hannah’s voice filling his ear. “José Mendez was born and raised in Magdalena. Still lives with his mother. He’s worked for the utility seventeen years.”
“Sorry.” Drake shook his head. “José’s mother’s been sick. So they called us up from Quibdo to cover for him. But if you don’t want our help, I’ll just turn the van around and head back to town.”
The lights in the guardhouse dimmed again, actually going out for a moment.
“Looks like it’s the transducer,” Drake said with a sideways glance at Nash, who nodded his agreement.
The guard frowned, then relented as the lights flickered again. “Just let me call and check.” He reached for his cell phone, speaking quietly into the receiver, then shrugged and waved them forward. “The electrical box is in that building over there.” He waved toward a cement structure abutting the west side of the prison.
“You can park in back.”
Drake pulled the van past the gate, behind the utility building.
“What the fuck is a transducer?” Nash said, his face breaking into a grin.
“I don’t know.” Drake said. “I just made it up. Figured he wasn’t the kind to know what the hell I was talking about.”
“Well, it worked,” he said, still laughing as he helped Madeline out from under the tarp.
“Amen to that,” Drake added, cutting the engine off.
Grabbing their gear, they walked into the utility shed and down the stairs to the room below. There was a huge electrical panel against one wall, and a generator adjacent to it. Nash flipped on a light, the single bulb flickering a little, then shining true.
“Very funny, Hannah,” Nash said, pulling a gauge out of his pack, along with a screwdriver and a pair of needle-nosed pliers.
“That wasn’t me,” she responded. “Probably just an old bulb.”
“We’ve got plenty of extras in the truck.” Drake frowned, turning to survey the room.
“I think I can see the door over there,” Madeline said, squinting into the shadows, her eyes focusing as they adjusted to the dark. “It’s boarded shut.”
Large planks had been secured across the door, the wood rotting and the nails rusty. Pulling a small crowbar out of his backpack, Drake went to work on the door. “Can you give me a little more light?”
She flipped on the flashlight, shining it at the door as he worked to pull the planks free, tossing the debris into the corner. Behind her Nash made a play of hooking the gauge to a port on the panel. The gauge clicked and hissed, and Nash, satisfied with his work, set the little machine on a ledge by the panel.
“Keeping up appearances,” he said. “I’ll just go up and make sure we don’t have company.”
Madeline nodded as Drake jerked the final piece of wood, the last few nails yielding and the door coming free. Tossing away the plank, he reached for the handle and yanked the door open.
Damp, dank air flooded into the room, and Madeline swallowed as her stomach heaved.
“Hannah, are you sure this isn’t still an active septic system?” Drake asked, covering his mouth and nose with his hand.
“Dry as a bone,” she replied. “Or as dry as anything in the jungle ever is. But definitely no longer in use as a privy. It ought to dissipate pretty quickly.”
“Everything’s clear on the outside,” Nash said, coming back down the stairs, holding another gadget. “The guards are still at the gate, and there’s no sign of any other activity. So we should be good to go.” He wrinkled his nose, the odor sinking in. “What the hell is that smell?”
“Old prison,” Drake said.
“Or old shit.”
Madeline wrinkled her nose, staring at the dark opening to the tunnel.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Drake asked, recognizing her discomfort. “I can handle it on my own.”
“Or I can go with him,” Nash said. “And you can hold the fort here.”
“Not a chance.” She shook her head. “I’m going with Drake. I don’t fancy a one-on-one with the guards. Been there and done that. Besides, I know my way around inside.”
“If you’re sure,” Drake said, his gaze holding hers.
“I am.” She nodded. “And Hannah’s right, the smell is almost gone.”
Drake picked up his bag and switched on his flashlight, the beam cutting through the dark as he stepped inside the tunnel. Madeline followed behind him, her own light bouncing off the floor. The passage sloped down slightly, the walls covered with moss, the ceiling dripping with water, little pools forming in patches at their feet. The smell was better here, or maybe she’d just grown used to it.
The tunnel widened, then petered out, opening into the large, cavernous area beneath the prison that had once served as a cesspit. The floor was lined with brick, channels cut into the paving marking its previous use. There was no moss here, only sediment and stain from mineral deposits and something that looked a lot like crusted salt.
They moved quickly, sweeping their flashlights ahead of them as they looked for the ladder reaching up into the crawl space. It was hidden in a dark corner against the far wall, the rungs rusted with age, trails of red running down the wall where the water had leached away the iron.
“I’ll go first,” Drake said, already starting to climb.
Madeline fastened her flashlight to a ring on her belt and followed behind him, the chute narrowing as they moved higher up, her heart racing as the walls closed in. She’d never liked enclosed places. Too many memories. The closet under the stairs. Solitary. All of it more than she could bear. But the only way out was up, so she kept moving.
“I think I’ve reached the top,” Drake said, disappearing into an alcove, his flashlight making an eerie canopy of light against the roof.
Madeline reached for the next rung, her mind on Drake at the top, her fingers closing around the rusty iron as she began to pull upward. Suddenly, the rung broke free of the wall on one side and she careened out into the dark. Heart threatening to break through her chest, she grabbed the rung with both hands, holding on for dear life as she scrambled to find purchase with her feet.
“Hang on, sweetheart,” Drake called from above, his voice laced with worry. “I’m coming.”
Adrenaline surging, she swung her body back toward the ladder, her foot finding the edge of a rung as she pressed herself hard against the wall. “I’m okay,” she said, securing her balance. “I’m okay.” And she closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe in and out. In and out.
Finally, bracing herself against the wall, she stretched upward, fingers closing around a higher rung, and she pulled herself up and on to the top. Crawling into the alcove, she collapsed against the floor, her breath coming in short gasps.
Drake pulled her close, his heart beating almost as wildly as hers. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, embarrassed by her clumsy display.
He studied her face as he ran his hands along her body, checking for injury. “Are you sure?”
“I banged up my knee and scraped my elbow, but I swear that’s the worst of it. I’m just glad I made it to the top. Was Hannah right? Is there access to the service closet?”
Drake pointed the flashlight at a metal plate screwed to the floor in the corner. “I think that’s it. I’d just started working on the screws when I heard you fall.”
Shifting to her knees, she shone her flashlight on the plate as he worked. And in short order, he had removed it, leaning it against the wall, the dark cavity of the service closet revealed below them.
She looked down into the hole, her mind rebelling. She’d escaped from San Mateo once and she’d never thought she’d see the place again. Certainly not by choice—not like this. Her throat tightened, her stomach threatening mutiny. And then her eyes met Drake’s, her heart remembering why they were here.
She’d come to help him find his brother. Nothing was more important—certainly not her fear.
And in that moment, she had a horrifying revelation. The God’s honest truth was that she’d do anything for Drake. Follow him into hell, if that’s what he asked of her. Because somewhere along the way, as they’d battled Ortiz and di Silva’s henchmen, she’d made a fatal mistake—she’d allowed herself to fall in love.
CHAPTER 26
Drake dropped down to the floor of the service closet, thinking about Madeline. He’d seen the look on her face and known what it was costing her to come back here. She was such an odd mixture of strength and vulnerability, the combination marking a complexity that was at the same time both frustrating and fascinating. He’d never met anyone quite like her.
She’d been through so much and yet she’d managed to survive. Her father, San Mateo, her sister’s death, and everything involving Ortiz and di Silva. Most people worked off ulterior motives. And when he’d first met her, he’d believed she had more than most.
But then he’d gotten to know her. And his opinion had changed. And now she’d come back to the prison, risking everything to help him find his brother.
Still, he was under no illusions. He knew that she was doing all of this for Tucker. His brother had been there during a time when Madeline had needed a friend. And now she was returning the favor. Drake felt a swell of envy—jealousy raising its ugly head.
He shook his head, pushing aside his rioting emotions. There’d be time to examine his feelings later, after they were all safely out of Colombia.
Or maybe not.
Some things were best left unexamined. The important thing now was to concentrate on getting them in and out in one piece. For that much, at least, she was truly counting on him.
Turning on his flashlight, he reached up to help her down. Then, after lifting a finger to his lips, he cracked open the door and, leading with his gun, stuck his head out. The hallway was empty, the first gate visible to his right.
“Hannah, can you hear me?” he asked, after stepping back into the closet. “We’re about to head out into the hallway. I’m not seeing any security cameras, but wanted to verify that there aren’t any there.”
“Perfect timing,” Hannah said, her voice crackling in his ear. “I’ve just gotten access to the security system. You’re good to go. But I still haven’t been able to locate updated blueprints.”
“Roger that,” he said. “But we’re still okay. Madeline should be able to fill in any blanks.” He motioned Madeline to follow, and then swung back out into the hall, careful to keep his back to the wall.
The two of them worked their way to the left along the far wall, moving toward a corner leading to a second hallway. “So according to what you remember, the second electronic gate is still just around the corner, right?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “The one that leads to the western cell block. They moved the security station, though. It should be just on the left. And there’s a second room on the right—used for clerical staff. There shouldn’t be anyone in there this time of night.”
