A man who was supposed to have been arrested and in an American prison. Not free and here in Columbia to fuck up an operation.
A man who knew Matías for what he really was.
Paul Rojas had been in thick with the Valdez Cartel. After capturing the head of the organization in Chicago, the American and Colombian task force had raided the compounds in Colombia, rounding up everyone. Paul had been captured on a connecting flight in Florida. Somehow the slippery bastard had gotten out of prison.
Matías had to think fast. This was going to get ugly quick.
“I would, but Raven, I fear, does not feel well.” He turned to Raven, praying she understood his meaning. “What do you think? Can someone bring something up to you in a bit?”
Raven missed maybe half a beat, but the lag in reply only made her seem more exhausted. “I think that sounds amazing.” She glanced at Victor. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. We’re just going to talk business.” Victor turned to one of his house staff, an older woman who could have probably stared down Job. “Show her to their room.”
Matías squeezed her hand and as fast as he could, drew RUN on her palm with his finger. He prayed she understood. He might get a few moments in the dining room before his cover was blown, unless he could do the best talking of his life.
Raven nodded, and rose up to kiss him on the cheek. “Ten,” she whispered.
Ten what? Ten minutes? Ten seconds? Ten people? Ten…what?
He smiled and committed her face to memory. Chances were, he was walking to his death. It wouldn’t be fast, or painless, but he’d always known this was a possibility. When you went undercover, and an op went bad, you either pulled yourself out of the fire or died. They weren’t great options, but at least he knew the truth. Raven, she was an innocent.
Matías let her go and forced himself to turn toward death’s door.
“Victor, you must introduce me to your friends. I’m very eager to meet them,” he said.
“Come this way. I have something very special for everyone tonight.” Victor led him toward the dining room, and the table already set.
There was always a chance Paul wouldn’t recognize Matías. He’d been a simple thug in the Valdez operation. A glorified foot soldier. While Paul had dealt directly with the top dogs. He’d had only ever said a handful of words to Matías, so perhaps he could pull this off…
Something wasn’t right.
Raven had no idea what Matías was trying to tell her, but the way he’d stared at her, as if it would be the last time he would ever see her, was enough to set her nerves on edge. She bided her time until the old woman showed her the room.
She still couldn’t understand most of what people were saying, but she knew enough to get the servant out of the door. Left alone, she surveyed the room. The furniture was heavy wood, the floor tile and the walls plain. There was a bed, a few side tables and a desk. Nothing fancy, but plenty comfortable.
The first thing she needed to do was form a plan of escape. Raven went to the windows and peered out. They’d scored a corner room, so there were two options. Jump down two stories with nothing to grab hold of. Or, try to step onto a clay tile roof and vault down onto a well-lit porch. She waited and watched each window for a span of sixty seconds. Shadows passed through the light cast off from the porch every few seconds, while the other side remained dark.
Looked like she was about to make a drop.
Raven grabbed a side table and as quietly as possible, dragged the furniture in front of the door. It wouldn’t hold someone out for long, but between it and the lock, maybe she could keep whoever came after her preoccupied.
She’d told Matías ten minutes, and her window was closing. Fast. She opened the first set of windows and leaned out, as if she were admiring the night sky. There was literally nothing to grab hold of, but it also wouldn’t be the first time she’d snuck out of a second story room. She’d done it as a teen and learned her lesson after fracturing her tibia.
Raven sucked in a deep breath. It was now…or die. She picked now.
Crawling onto the wide windowsill, she let her legs go first and lowered herself using her upper body strength until she clung to the ledge with her feet against the wall. She took several deep breaths and imagined the landing. She’d twist mid-air, land and roll. It wouldn’t be fun, she stood a good chance of hurting herself—but she’d done it before.
One…two…three…
She pushed off the building, tucked her arms in tight and twisted, starting the momentum to roll. She crashed into some shrubs, the branches raking her arms for a second before she rolled and came to a stop on her side. Her skin burned, but it was hard to tell which pangs were bruises from the last few nights, and which were new.
Raven got to her feet, more than a little dazed and dizzy, but she didn’t have time for that. She slid into the deeper shadows around the side of the house, hugging the building. She crept along the perimeter, ducking under windows. It seemed as if this were the back of the house, and the trees lined up so neatly must be an orchard of some sort.
She heard more voices as she approached the next corner. Peering around the wall, she saw a steady bustle of people back and forth from the house to outlying buildings. Well, hell. How did she pass by this without being seen?
She didn’t.
One of the best disguises was pretending as if you belonged exactly where you were.
Raven straightened, pushed her fingers through her hair, and checked her clothing for rips, or bits of shrubbery. Her ankle ached, but then again, she’d expected as much. Though it was her leg she’d fractured, whenever she aggravated the old injury, it was her joint that protested. She pushed her shoulders back and strode around the corner, holding her head up and praying that no one questioned her.
Matías stretched his arm toward Paul Rojas. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Paul’s gaze narrowed.
The back of Matías’ neck was damp and his stomach clenched. He could play it cool, but his mind kept going back to what the hell Raven was doing. Victor made a few more introductions, but Matías could feel Paul’s gaze resting heavily on him. These men were a suspicious lot. It was how they stayed out of jail, or worse, the cross-hairs of an enemy.
“I understand you’ll be working with us,” one of the men said. Matías was so scattered he couldn’t recall the gentleman’s name. He was slipping. His concentration was on Raven, not the here and now.
“If you’ll have me. Victor made a convincing case.” Matías nodded at his host, or more accurately, his jailer.
“Don’t be silly.” Victor handed Matías a glass of amber liquid. “You are one of us. We just had to be sure.” Victor lifted his glass as if to make a toast.
“Did you work with Valdez?” Paul asked, breaking into the moment.
Matías blinked at the man, pretending to be baffled. “No. I’m Victor’s loyal customer.” He lifted his glass to his host.
Paul shook his head. “No, I’ve seen you before.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
“He’s lying to you, Victor.” Paul turned toward their host, jaw thrust forward.
Victor glanced between Paul and Matías. It didn’t take much to spark Victor’s suspicions. Hell, when Matías said he drank Dr Pepper, Victor had become suspicious of him years ago. Paul throwing him under the bus like this was bad news.
“I have no idea what he’s talking about.” Matías frowned at Victor. “Why would I lie to you? I didn’t come to you looking for work. I was going to retire, if I might remind you. You insisted I bounce around on this little trip of yours. My patience is running out.”
Matías tossed the liquor back, gritting his teeth as it burned down his throat. The others were beginning to eye each other sideways and shift. He’d be willing to bet every single one of these bastards had a gun. Damn his stupidity for ever going without a gun. Not that he could take out a dozen men, but it might make a dent in th
e way of an escape.
“Paul, what proof do you have? What are you accusing José of?” Victor demanded.
“I swear to you, Victor, this man worked with Valdez.” Paul jabbed his finger at him. “Señor Jiménez said he was afraid the DEA as snooping around. What if it’s him?”
Paul jabbed his finger toward Matías.
Victor stared daggers at the other man. “Señor Jiménez is dead.” He snapped his fingers and one of the servers stepped forward, a tray in hand covered by a silver dome.
The server set the tray on the table and whisked the dome aside, revealing a decapitated head, its hair matted with blood, and the features sunken in death resting in a ring of ice.
Around the room people gasped, some exclaimed, others said a prayer and at least two voices demanded an answer. Victor had staged a takeover right under Matías’ nose. He couldn’t believe it. The man had talent—and balls.
Voices raised as more demanded answers.
Takeovers never happened without blood.
Matías backed slowly out of the room, but Paul saw him. He pointed at him and yelled something lost in the fray.
Outside, he heard the rev of an engine and more yelling.
Ten minutes, then.
Matías spun, but the doors were barred by two men with guns. He turned down a narrow hall that rose to a set of stairs. A small window was his only opportunity for escape. He kicked and the glass cracked.
“Hey! You! Stop!” Paul yelled, his footsteps sounding closer.
Matías kicked again and the window broke. He pulled his jacket up over his head and slithered through, ignoring the rip and poke of glass as he hit the ground and stumbled, landing unceremoniously on his ass.
A SUV zigzagged through the courtyard. There was confusion, and something was on fire. He could smell the smoke, but whatever it was, it was out of sight.
Matías picked himself up and sprinted for the SUV while cries of, “Stop him,” followed.
The SUV screeched to a stop for a second, the driver’s side door in front of him. He yanked it open and shoved Raven aside. She went tumbling into the passenger seat.
“What’s going on?” Raven asked.
More bullets pelted the side of the reinforced vehicle. Small blessing. He slammed the door shut and stomped on the accelerator. The gates were already swinging shut. The old mantra, shoot first, ask later, held sway here. The car shot forward and a few of the armed guards had to leap out of the way. Their avenue for escape narrowed even more.
“You can’t make it!” Raven screamed, clutching the side of the door and center console.
He leaned forward, urging the car on. The SUV was wider than the space. They hit the gates at almost seventy miles an hour. The impact jolted the car, but their momentum flung the gates open. The road stretched out in front of them, empty and dark.
“My pocket. My jacket pocket. Get my phone,” he said. The road was rough, pocketed with holes and bumps he didn’t know.
“What the hell happened?” Raven reached across and dug her hand into his jacket.
“Call Eddie.” His handler couldn’t help them now, they were on their own, but maybe, just maybe, they could get some support or an extraction if they could survive six or twelve hours on their own. They had a car and a mostly full tank of gas.
“Matías, what happened?”
“Victor killed the Jiménez family, and someone I met while undercover recognized me as someone else.”
Headlights bobbed in the darkness behind them.
“Oh, shit,” she said.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He managed to strap his on. If they had to wreck intentionally, the airbags might be their only to survive.
“What are we going to do?” Raven asked as she held the phone to her ear.
“Just call Eddie.”
She stared at him, her brave front cracking. She wasn’t made for this. No one was. He’d just learned to adapt. She had no business being here.
“Raven, listen to me, okay?” He licked his lips and glanced in the mirror. Those lights were getting closer. He couldn’t push the car any faster without fear of what the terrain might be.
“No one’s picking up.” Her voice rose, becoming thin and brittle.
“Don’t worry about that. Just listen to me, okay?”
“Okay, what?”
“If something happens, keep running. Don’t wait for me.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Raven, don’t argue with me. If we get into something, I can handle myself better if I’m not worried about you. So get your ass out of here if you can, and I’ll be right behind you.” It was a big, fat lie, but she needed to hear it. If they crashed, or if Victor’s men caught them—they were dead. That’s how this industry worked. You didn’t get fired or handed a pink slip. They killed you.
“Eddie? Eddie, it’s Raven. We’re in trouble. Our coordinates are—shit. It just cut out.” She jabbed at the buttons and pressed the phone to her ear again. “We passed a small airstrip near a barn. I bet they have a plane.”
“Where?”
“Turn your brights on.” She ducked her head and peered up at the sky.
“What are you looking for?”
“Reflectors, something in the trees. You know like people put on telephone lines?”
The rat-a-tat-tat of an automatic gun pelted the back of the SUV. Raven yelped and ducked. He hunched down, not liking how close the nearest vehicle was getting. He pushed the accelerator down harder. The jungle was thick around them, opening up in cultivated fields or a random clearing. He had no idea where the strip might be that Raven had seen, but he knew they had to get away.
“There’s lights up there.” Raven pointed ahead of them.
Hadn’t they passed through a little village of some sort? Maybe a cluster of houses and huts?
The SUV bumped along, careening around turns and jerking to the side to avoid trees close to the road. He took another turn and stared into the face of a shocked young man. Matías honked and the man scrambled out of his way. Other people and animals scattered as he blazed through the tiny village.
“There! There! There!” Raven pointed through the trees.
“Where do I turn?” He could see something reflective in the trees in his peripheral vision.
“I don’t know!” She leaned forward once more, but the road turned, throwing her sideways.
“Ah-ha!” He saw an offshoot of the main dirt road and turned hard—but too early.
The SUV bounced through a ditch and ran straight into a stone embankment at a sharp angle. Matías’ head bounced off the steering wheel and for a moment the world hazed in and out of focus. He was aware of Raven’s voice, of her hands pulling on him, but his body was heavy.
“Matías. Matías, come on,” she said, sounding panicked.
He pushed her aside, the urgency not lost on him.
“Go. Go, get a plane started.” His words slurred. He probably had a concussion at least, judging by the sharp slap of pain radiating through his body. He popped the seatbelt and pushed at Raven. “Go!”
She stared at him, but only for a second. Lights lit up the street behind them.
“Come on.” She pushed her door open and hobbled out, none too steady on her feet.
He pushed himself across the console and pain shot up his side. His right arm was out of the socket and useless. Still, he managed to slide across into her seat.
Raven was a dark speck of movement in the night, a shadow. Another couple of seconds and Victor wouldn’t be able to find her. She had a better chance of getting away if he distracted the others.
Matías slumped in her seat and watched the last bit of her he could see.
“Good girl,” he muttered. His chest ached, but not from physical pain. Victor would kill him. There would be no trip to El Paso, no introducing Raven to his mother. This was it.
He swung his legs out of the SUV as the lights of his pursuers came aro
und the bend. There was no way he could escape, but he could give her time. He took off in the opposite direction at a limping run, plunging into the jungle, tearing through brush.
Raven crouched on the wing of the small bi-plane. She could fix and fly anything. At least that’s what she’d always said. The little aircraft was literally held together with duct tape in places, but she’d flown worse. She jumpstarted the engine and the propeller started to spin slow, lazy circles, then it picked up speed.
“Yes,” she whispered, and peered over her shoulder.
No Matías.
“Come on…”
Lights bathed the road in a glow, just as Matías darted—away from her.
“What?” She gaped at the sight of men—with guns—leaping out of vehicles and running after him. Her heart pounded in her throat and her stomach tied in so many knots, she couldn’t breathe.
There was more yelling behind her. Maybe the owner of the plane?
I can handle myself better if I’m not worried about you. So get your ass out of here if you can and I’ll be right behind you.
If she took the plane, how could he be right behind her?
She slid into the pilot’s seat and guided the little plane onto the airstrip. It was dark, she had no idea what the terrain was like, and Matías wasn’t with her.
Raven twisted in her seat, praying she might see him coming toward her, but instead men dragged him out of the jungle. Everything in her said to go back, to save him, do something, but what could she do? He was a trained spy. And she was an uneducated crop duster. His best bet was to get help. Real help.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she steered the plane down the runway. Her sight became blurry, but she tipped the nose of the plane up before it was too late, and skimmed the tops of the trees. The sky was clear, not a cloud in the sky. As much as she wanted to curl up and cry, she had to figure out where she was.
In the beginning, her father had taught her to navigate by star charts and her gauges. Raven flew in a large arc until she found the North Star to set her course by. Once she was headed in the right direction, she groped around for a radio. There was one bolted to the underside of her seat. She turned it to the emergency channel and prayed someone friendly was out there.
Entrusted: A Drug of Desire Novel Page 26
