Dangerous Desires

by Dee Davis

  Drake nodded and signaled for her to stay back, then inched forward until he reached the edge of the wall. After a silent count of three, he risked a quick look out into the corridor, gratified to find that it was also empty. The room on the left was open, light spilling across the hall, the one on the right, dark, the door closed.

  “Looks like we’re in the clear,” he said, as they rounded the corner. Madeline opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head, the sound of voices carrying from just beyond the far side of the electronically keyed gate.

  Grabbing Madeline’s hand, he yanked open the closed door and pulled the two of them inside, just as the locks clicked and the gate opened. Pressed flat against the wall, he waited as the guards drew closer.

  “All I’m saying is that it’s a sure thing,” the first guard said in Spanish as they moved through the gate and into the hallway. “I mean it isn’t like she can say no.”

  “But what if the warden finds out?” the second man protested.

  “He won’t. That’s the beauty of working nights.”

  Beside him, Drake felt Madeline tense, and he fingered his gun, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug tone from their voices. But nothing was ever gained by acting in anger, and their success depended on their remaining undetected.

  “What the hell,” the second guard was saying. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t get a little enjoyment from my job.”

  “Just think of it as a perk,” the first man agreed, their voices trailing off as they moved down the corridor.

  Madeline started to move, but Drake held out a hand, shaking his head. She pressed back against the wall and they waited for the telltale clanking of the far gate as it opened and then shut again.

  “Did that happen to you?” he asked, anger burning as he turned to face her. “Did the guards hurt you?”

  “Not like that. No.” She shook her head. “I was lucky. Gringas are considered less than desirable. But there were other women. Sometimes, I could hear them.” She shuddered, remembering. And he marveled again at the fact that she’d managed to survive. She’d been through so damn much.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was low, emotion rocking through him.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s over,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “None of it can hurt me anymore. So what do you say we get that gate open and go find your brother?”

  He nodded, centering his mind on the task at hand. “Hannah?” he said, flipping his com link on again. “You still with us?”

  “Yes. I’m here. Have you made it to the gate?”

  “We have. But not without a little company. Two guards. I’m guessing they were doing rounds. Anyway, they’ve headed to the other side of the building now. And they definitely didn’t see us.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “Have you figured out how to alter the security camera feed in the west cell block?” he asked, while Madeline kept watch at the door.

  “I have,” Hannah said, sounding pleased. “I’ve got a loop of an empty hallway ready to plug in as soon as you can locate the appropriate monitor. I want to be certain the transition goes smoothly, but once I set this thing up, you guys should be as good as invisible.”

  “Any word from Nash or Annie?” They’d opted to keep the channel between them closed unless it was an emergency, using Hannah as their link, reducing the chance of one of them tipping off the location of the others in case of discovery.

  “Everything’s quiet. Nash and I have been playing ‘screw with the electric grid.’ I’m guessing if they had any doubts about the problem, they’re not questioning it now. So far I’ve kept it limited to the outbuildings, though. Don’t want them on high alert while you’re on the inside.”

  “Thanks for that,” Drake said. “Madeline, you ready?”

  “No time like the present,” she said, her gun drawn as she waited for him to get into position on the other side of the door.

  “Okay, Hannah, we’re heading out now.”

  They moved into the hallway, stopping on the far side of the open doorway. Drake tightened his hold on his gun and then pivoted into the doorway, ready to fire.

  “Clear,” he said, lowering his weapon as he stepped into the empty room. “I hate to say it but maybe it’s a good thing the guard had an itch to scratch.” A series of monitors adorned the top of a desk, various angles of the prison’s interior shown on each. Beneath the row of screens was a computer, wires extending haphazardly to various peripherals.

  “Not exactly a state-of-the-art system,” he said to no one in particular, as Madeline followed him into the room. “Hannah, what do you want me to do next?”

  “Find the monitor with a view of the west cell block,” she instructed. “Got it?”

  He scanned the labels underneath the screens, translating from Spanish to English, stopping when he found the one labeled oeste. “Yeah. Now what?”

  “Just watch it, while I replace the feed with the loop. Then tell me if you notice anything when I switch it over.”

  The screen flickered for less than a second and then resumed, the picture seemingly unchanged. “Did you do something?” he asked.

  “I did,” Hannah replied. “The loop of empty corridor should run until someone discovers it. And if we’re lucky that won’t happen until we’re all miles away from here.”

  “What about the rest of the cameras?” he asked.

  “There aren’t any on the exterior except at the front gate. So unless you’re planning to tour the rest of the facility you should be good to go.”

  Madeline moved to stand behind him, her eyes on the monitor. “Looks like the two guards have abandoned their plans.” She nodded at the screen, the two men disappearing into an office near the infirmary. “At least for the time being.”

  “Just as well,” he said. “I’m not sure we could have handled two rescues in one night.” She smiled at him, her eyes conveying just how much his words had meant. “You find the master key?” he asked.

  She held up a key ring. “Right where Hannah said it would be.”

  “Okay, then, we’re ready for the gate.” He grinned. “Do we need an incantation or something?”

  “You could try ‘open sesame,’ ” Hannah said. “But I suggest using the thumb drive I gave you.”

  Drake pulled it out of the backpack. “Just put it into the PC?”

  “Exactly. The screen should prompt you to execute my program. Just hit enter and the rest should go like clockwork.”

  Drake plugged the device into the USB port and waited as the computer hummed to life, assessing Hannah’s program. A blue box popped onto the screen prompting him for a password, and he typed in the alphanumeric code Hannah had given him and waited while the program went to work.

  “I think I heard the click,” Madeline said behind him, her eyes on the monitor showing the gate. “Although it’s different from before.”

  “That’s because my program’s overriding the manual systems. Basically, it’s the same as if the door is turned off. Only the security system doesn’t recognize the fact.”

  “Nifty little program,” Drake said, removing the thumb disk and pocketing it. “Anything further on Tucker’s cell?”

  “No. Sorry. I’m having trouble with the administrative files. But I’m certain he’s in there.”

  “We’ll find him,” Madeline said, tone confident. “We’ll start with where I remember him being and work from there. But we’d better hurry. No telling when the guards will be back.”

  Moving quickly now, they walked through the gate, careful to close it behind them. The cell block was dark, the only light the moonlight streaming through a couple of barred windows in the eastern wall. Cells lined the west wall, their occupants sleeping, for the most part.

  Halfway down the block, they started to look more carefully, peering into the shadows, trying to discern what the inmate looked like. It was slow going, and Drake’s frustration was just starting to get the better of him when Ha
nnah’s triumphant voice crackled in his ear.

  “I’ve got it. He’s in cell ninety-two. That’s three up from solitary.”

  “Come on,” Madeline said, her hand closing on Drake’s arm, her expression determined. “It’s just down this way. We’re almost there.”

  As she propelled him forward, his mind tumbled with a million thoughts. Was it really Tucker? Would he be all right? Would he be angry? After all, Tucker could still be working undercover. Although on second thought that idea made no sense at all. Madeline had mentioned how sick his brother had been. And how isolated all the prisoners were. If Tucker was here, it wasn’t by choice.

  Still, he hadn’t used his card.

  Which meant that there were a lot of unanswered questions, things that could all be answered from the free side of a cell.

  “I think this is it,” Madeline whispered, counting down three from the last two doors in the row. “Those are both solitary confinement.”

  Drake hated the idea that she knew which cells were meant for punishment, and he grimaced, chastising himself for dragging her here to relive it all.

  “It looks like someone might be asleep on the bed. I can’t really make much out in the shadows.” She stepped back so that Drake could better see, but she was right, it was almost impossible to make anything out inside the cell.

  She handed him the key, her fingers trembling. He inserted it in the lock and turned, the clicking of the release mechanism seeming unusually loud in the stillness of the cell block.

  He looked to Madeline for reassurance, his heart going still. She nodded and gave him a little push. He pulled open the door, and still no one inside moved. It looked as if there was someone in the bed—he thought he could make out the shape under the covers. But it was too dark to be certain.

  Summoning all his courage, his mind flooded with hope, he reached down to pull back the blanket, heart stopping as he stared down at the crumpled sheets and pillow on the empty bed. “There’s no one here,” he whispered, as Madeline came up behind him, her hand warm against his shoulder. “We’re too late.”

  “We don’t know that,” she said, her tone soothing.

  But he rounded on her anyway. “He’s not here. You can see for yourself. Hell, maybe he never was. Maybe this was just a wild goose chase. A shot at something that was never really possible. Maybe Tucker is dead. Just like the government told me.”

  “Except that you know that was a lie. And you know he was here,” she said, eyes flashing with anger. “Look, there are things here. Someone’s possessions.” She reached over to pick up a book.

  “But not Tucker,” he insisted, knowing that he was acting like an ass, but disappointment getting the better of him anyway.

  “How do you know?” she asked, waving the book under his nose to emphasize her point.

  He grabbed her hand, his emotions getting the better of him, then stopped as the title caught in the moonlight. Kidnapped. Robert Louis Stevenson. “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “This was always Tucker’s favorite. I bet he read it a thousand times. Usually under the covers after we were supposed to be asleep.” He turned to face the empty cell, his heart sinking. “But I was right. We’re too late. He’s dead.”

  “Stop jumping to conclusions. I know this is difficult for you, but all we know for certain is that Tucker isn’t here,” she said, her voice gone dangerously quiet. “That much is definite. But the rest of what you just said is ridiculous. He’s in this prison somewhere. We just have to find him.”

  “You’re right.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just that I want so much for him to be alive.”

  “So do I,” she said, her hands reaching for his. “So let’s just concentrate on finding him. All right?”

  “Okay. So if he’s not here at this time of night, where else could he be? The infirmary? You said he had a bad bout with malaria. I know it can recur. Sometimes for the worse.”

  “Yes.” She nodded, the little crease between her eyes indicating her worry. “I’d say it’s a definite possibility. But judging from what I know about this place, I’m thinking he might be much closer than that.” Her gaze met his, and the answer suddenly presented itself.

  “Solitary.”

  “It seems plausible. I certainly spent enough time there.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” he asked, his brain clicking into gear, taking control over his harried emotions.

  They hurried out of the cell down the corridor to the last two cells at the end of the block. Unlike the others, there were no bars, just cinder-block walls and a heavily studded door with a small sliding slot so that guards could check on the prisoner.

  “The key doesn’t work,” Madeline said, her frustration mirroring Drake’s own. He took it from her and tried to jam it in, but it simply didn’t fit. “Use the peephole,” she said. “At least we can see if someone is in there.”

  He nodded, wrenching the little piece of metal aside. It was pitch-black inside, the only light a narrow shaft from the open peephole. “Is anyone in there?” he called, careful to keep his voice low enough to keep from alerting the guards. “Hello?” Silence stretched back.

  “Is anyone there?” Madeline asked, leaning close beside him as he peered into the darkness.

  “No one.” He frowned. “At least I don’t think so.”

  “Hello?” Madeline repeated. They both listened, and then something scraped against the wall.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, pressing his eye back to the open panel.

  “Yes,” she said, stepping back. The scraping sound came again. “But I don’t think it’s coming from this cell. It’s coming from the next one over.”

  She rushed forward, but Drake was faster, pulling back the sliding panel. “Tucker? Are you in there?” The cell was quiet, the darkness swallowing any chance of seeing inside.

  “I know I heard it,” Madeline insisted. “There’s got to be someone in there.” She bit her bottom lip, the furrow between her brows growing deeper. And then she smiled, and, for all the seriousness of the moment, Drake felt as if the fucking sun had come out.

  Edging him aside with her hip, she stood on tiptoe to reach the little opening. “Andrés? Can you hear me? It’s Madeline. I’ve come to get you out of here.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Madeline?” Andrés’s careful whisper came from the back corner of the cell. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her heart beating faster. “I’m here.”

  “This isn’t a trick?” Even though his voice sounded cautious, she could hear a note of hope.

  “No. I swear. It’s really me. I’ve come to get you out.”

  Andrés moved forward, the scant light highlighting his gauntness. He seemed to have aged ten years since she’d seen him last. His beard was even more matted than before, a streak of silver running through it. Beside her, she felt Drake’s muscles tense, and without thinking she reached over to take his hand.

  “I’ve brought help,” she whispered as Andrés moved closer, his eyes the same clear blue as his brother’s. “Drake is here.”

  “Drake?” he queried, his eyes narrowing as he frowned.

  “Yes. He’s really here,” she said, careful to keep her voice gentle. She had personal experience with the disorienting effects of San Mateo’s solitary. It wasn’t easy to regain equilibrium, especially if they’d been holding him here a while. “See for yourself.” She moved back, pulling Drake forward.

  “Tucker?” he said, his voice laced with emotion. “Is it really you?”

  There was a pause, and then Andrés—Tucker—raised his hand, his fingers pressed against Drake’s face. “Holy shit,” he breathed, his English suddenly flawless. “I never figured on seeing you again.”

  Tears pricked Madeline’s eyes as she watched the two of them. So alike. So different.

  “They told us you were dead,” Drake said. “If it hadn’t been for Madeline we’d never have known any different. Why
didn’t you use the card?”

  “Complicated situation,” Tucker said. “But I figured if Madeline used it, sooner or later someone would trace it back to me. Just never occurred to me it would be you.”

  “Well, turns out the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree. Looks like we’re in the same business, more or less.”

  “So your coming here was sanctioned?” Tucker asked.

  “Hardly,” Madeline said, unable to keep the anger from her voice. “Your people are still in Washington sitting on their asses.”

  “My people are dead,” Tucker said, a dark shadow passing over his face.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, her heart twisting at her own insensitivity, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking… I…”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her, the ghost of a smile crossing his face. “Good to see you’re still a fighter.”

  “Look,” Drake interrupted, his tone unusually abrupt, “we can continue old home week when we’re safe. Right now we need to concentrate on getting you out of here.”

  “The key we have doesn’t work,” Madeline said, her worried gaze still fixed on her friend. “They must have changed it.”

  “They did.” Tucker nodded. “It’s electronic now. They’re switching the whole prison over. And, of course, they started with solitary.”

  “Hannah,” Drake whispered into his com. “Are you getting this?”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “I’m trying to find the file that triggers it now, but the computer’s turned sluggish. Which could mean someone’s on to us. Keep your eyes open.”

  Madeline nodded and Tucker tilted his head inquisitively. “Ear bud?”

  “Yeah. We’ve got a computer expert on the other end. She’s the one who got us in here.”

  “How many are there?” he asked.

  “Five,” Drake replied, “including Hannah. Plan is to get you out the way we came in. Only we’ve got to get this damn door open first.”

  “Got it,” Hannah said, satisfaction coloring her voice. “Should be opening now.”

  As if on cue, there was a mechanical clink and the door unlocked.

  Madeline yanked it open, throwing herself into Tucker’s arms. “I was so afraid that something might have happened to you.” She pulled back, looking into his eyes. “But you’re all right. You’re really all right.”