Shaking his head, he replied, “Nah, my name is really Robert Drew, but no one calls me Robert …except my mom.”
She laughed and said, “My real name is Jacqueline but only my mom calls me that, too.” Cocking her head to the side, she said, “I guess this hasn’t turned out to be quite the rescue mission you thought it was going to be, has it?”
Shaking his head, he admitted, “No. But my time in the military taught me that not everything goes as planned, so I think we’re doing good.”
Her smile widened as she hurried over to Andrea’s side, rubbing her friend’s back. Stepping into the bedroom, he thanked God the three girls were as mature as Ms. Baxter had assured. Assessing Tiffany as she lay in the bed, her eyes closed and resting, he then shifted his gaze toward the doctor.
Dr. Lopez looked up and smiled, “Mr. Drew, I can assure you that Miss Daniels will be fine. I have already received a call from Senator Daniels’ personal physician and have filled him in on what I am doing. She’s quite dehydrated, so I have given her an IV, and we will let the fluids get into her body while she is resting. I have also given her an anti-nausea medication. I have drawn blood which I will send off to a lab but am uncertain when I will get the results back due to the overloaded medical system in the area right now. Hopefully, I will know by the end of the day. But I suspect she may also have an ear infection and gave her an antibiotic injection so that it will act fast.”
“When will she be able to travel?”
“I want her to stay here for a minimum of twenty-four hours,” Dr. Lopez said, walking back over to his bag and collecting his medical supplies. As Tiffany’s eyes blinked open for a moment, the doctor smiled at her before walking out of the room. As he passed by Drew, he added, “I’ll be back this evening to check on her and again in the morning.”
He walked the doctor to the door, securing it after he had left. Leaning his back against the closed door, he closed his eyes momentarily and sighed, slightly banging his head against the hard surface. While the girls’ situation was much improved with Tiffany under medical care and Jackie and Andrea in a safe, comfortable location, he had only completed half his mission. He needed to get to Walker and Julie but needed them to be at a location where he could land his plane unless he could get his hands on another bird. Unable to leave the suite, not willing to take a chance on the girls’ safety, he was going to have to handle everything from there.
A knock on the door sounded, and he jolted out of his musings. Throwing it open, he smiled at the sight before him…food. Letting the server in, Jackie and a revived Andrea bounded over, squealing in delight. Not knowing what they wanted to eat, he had ordered a smorgasbord. Tipping the server, they dove into the food. After the girls had eaten their fill, he finished his meal while keeping an eye on Tiffany, still sleeping peacefully.
Andrea and Jackie headed to the other bedroom where they decided to take a nap, and he moved to the table. Calling up LSI, he got hold of Tate and said, “Time for backup plans.”
18
Julie kept her eyes on Walker, deciding she could no longer ignore his square jaw, blue eyes, and hair that she longed to reach over and touch. But while she was committing his profile to memory, she noticed he constantly peered into the rearview mirror. She would occasionally twist around, seeing nothing untoward. Not wanting to be kept in the dark, she finally asked, “Is there someone following us? Was it whoever you saw in the village?”
He hesitated, and she wondered if he was going to answer or ignore her when he eventually said, “I just want to make sure that I’m aware of our surroundings. So far, it doesn’t appear as though anyone is following us, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I don’t understand, Walker. Who would be following us?”
“Under the best of circumstances,” he explained, “Mexico can be a dangerous country for visitors who are not staying in one of the major tourist areas. Drug cartels, gangs, even the occasional overzealous soldier can demand money or more.” He slid a guarded look her way and added, “It’s particularly dangerous for a female. An attractive female, at that.”
Attractive female? He thinks I’m attractive? As scary as his words before that had been, a thrill at the word attractive shot through her, a feeling she had not had in a long time. His gaze had shifted back to the road in front of them, and she fought to keep from reading too much into what he had said. Focusing back on their conversation, she prodded, “And these are not the best of circumstances.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “No. With the earthquake in the middle of the Yucatán, it’s pulled some the country’s military and police resources to helping victims, leaving many of the areas around open for cartels and gangs to roam about freely. Just like they moved into the resort area to do looting, they’ll be out on the roads looking for trouble as well. We were sitting ducks staying at Chichén Itzá and need to find a place where Drew can pick us up. And if he can’t get a helicopter, then we’re going to need to be near an airstrip.”
“Is this why we’re getting off the main road?” she asked as he made the turn onto the small dirt road that would take them to the Cobá ruins on their way to the coast.
“Yeah. I’ve got someone who can give us satellite information to let us know what’s safe and what’s not."
Thinking for a moment on what he said, she asked, “I don’t know anything about you, other than you came to help us out. You must be very good at what you do for Senator Daniels to send for you.”
Grinning, he glanced over and asked, “You fishing for information?”
“I guess I wasn’t too subtle, was I?” she laughed. “But it hardly seems fair. You know so much about my trip, and I don’t know anything about you at all.”
“What do you want to know?”
“I suppose anything you want to share with me,” she said. “It might sound overly dramatic, but I don’t really know what you can share with me. I mean, do you work for some kind of secret, dark ops kind of agency?"
His head jerked around toward hers, and his eyes, filled with merriment for the first time since she had met him, stared at her. “Wow, you do have an imagination, don’t you?”
The heat of blush hit her face, and she mumbled, “I guess I read too many novels.”
His expression altered again as his eyebrows lifted. “What kind of novels do you read?”
Huffing, she crossed her arms in front of her in defense and said, “Hey, this was supposed to be about you. Now you’re asking me questions again.”
The smile stayed on his face, and she was not sure she had ever seen anyone so handsome. He could be dark and brooding, serious and demanding, warm and caring, and now smiling. She had only known him since early this morning, and yet, had witnessed a myriad of expressions. And every one of them she had memorized.
The road they were currently on was wide enough for two vehicles to pass but surrounded by thick jungle and trees that sometimes overhung the street, creating a green tunnel for them to pass through. As beautiful as it was, she could not help but remember his warning of the types of people they might run into. Desperately wanting him to talk, both for the reason of wanting to know and for wanting to keep her mind off their situation, she asked, “Well if you don’t work for a dark ops agency, tell me who you work for. I think I remember the word lighthouse from this morning, but I’m not sure.”
“That’s right,” he nodded. “I work for a company named Lighthouse Security Investigations.”
“Security…investigations…so, what kind of work do you do?” A nervous laugh slipped out as she added, “Besides rescue damsels in distress.”
“We do a multitude of things, such as investigate crimes or suspected crimes, sometimes called in to assist the FBI. We work in high-profile security, again often contracting with the government. We have private clients as well, such as this case where Senator Daniels called us in.”
She caught him looking at her, his gaze dropping to her lips, and she realized she was n
ibbling on her bottom lip again. It was a nervous habit of hers, and she quickly stopped, looking away. A realization struck her, and a small gasp slipped out as she exclaimed, “I don’t even know your full name. Is that something I can’t know?”
Grinning widely, he replied, “I might be on a mission to rescue you, but it’s not a state secret. My full name is James Walker."
“James Walker,” she repeated. “Why do you go by just Walker?”
Shrugging, he replied, “Most of us go by our last names or a nickname. For me, that started back in my Navy days.”
“Navy?”
“I was a Navy SEAL.”
His pronouncement was just that. Short, clipped, with no fanfare. Her head whipped around to stare at his profile, and everything she had ever read about Navy SEALs came back to mind. At least, what she had read in the news or in novels. So many things about him fell into place. The way he spoke at times where it felt like he was giving an order that he expected to be obeyed. His constant vigilance of what was going on around them. His professional manner that took precedence over their conversations. His strong, muscular body and the way he carried himself with confidence.
Her voice softened, and she said, “I’d like to thank you for your service, but I don’t know how you feel about that. I read where some former service members appreciate the sentiment and others don’t care for it.”
His lips curved softly, and he replied, “It’s fine. And thank you.”
“Was it hard?”
A tick appeared in his jaw, and his words were laced with incredulity as he questioned, “Hard being a SEAL?”
“Oh, no,” she rushed, drawing his lowered-brow gaze over to her. She loved their conversation and the chance to get to know him more. Horrified that she had offended him with her question, she explained, “I know enough layman’s information about SEALs to know you had to be the best of the best, but I assume you were doing it because you loved it. I was wondering if it was hard not being a SEAL anymore?”
Walker heard her simple question, asked hesitantly, and felt a strange pull in his chest. No one ever asked if it was hard not being a SEAL, only wanting to know about the glory days in uniform. Days that he remembered with pride and fondness as well as the desire to sometimes forget.
Flashes of memories moved through his mind like an antique Mutoscope, so fast he could barely discern each one as separate. Men he served with. Missions they were assigned. Cold water. Hot desert. Laughter mixed with blood. Camaraderie mixed with death.
A soft touch on his arm jolted his mind back to the present, and he swung his head around to see Julie’s worried, lip-biting expression. Other than family, he had never had someone else look at him with such concern. A longing to stop the Jeep, pull her into his arms, and kiss the worry from her lips hit him with such force, the air left his lungs in a rush.
“I’m so sorry,” she said in a hushed voice, her words barely above a whisper. “I should never have presumed to ask such a question—”
Hating that he was the cause of her contrition when his thoughts had gone so astray in the middle of a mission, he jerked his head back and forth, saying, “No. You’re fine. I was just…"
“Thinking,” she filled in for him. “I could see your mind filled with thoughts.”
Nodding slowly, he admitted, “Yeah." Clearing his voice, suddenly very self-conscious, he attempted a halfhearted chuckle, but before he was able to say anything else, his radio crackled.
“Ten-one-zero-one?”
Instantly alert at recognizing Tate’s voice using police codes, he replied, “Walker, Ten-one-zero-six.” He could feel the energy in the Jeep crackle as Julie’s nerves vibrated but trusted her to stay calm as he found out what was needed.
“I’ve got your location on satellite as being about ten miles from Cobá.”
“Road is shit, so it’ll take another twenty minutes to get there,” he estimated.
“Looks like there’s movement close by. There’s a small village south of Cobá that has cartel presence. Mexican federal police are concerned about the area from the coast over toward where the earthquake affected the smaller towns. That puts them moving right through where you’re traveling.”
“Does it look like we’ll be intercepted?” he asked, praying the answer would be negative because it would be very difficult to ditch the Jeep and get Julie to safety in the dense jungle that was on either side of them.
“We’ve analyzed the situation in the area,” Tate replied. “There are no tourists at the Cobá site today, probably due to the tour companies holding off a day or so until the Mexican government gives the all clear. We don’t think it’s safe for you to try to get all the way to the coast today, certainly not to Cancún, but probably not even to Playa del Carmen or even Tulum. Our intelligence concludes you should get Ms. Baxter to the ruins and stay there for the night.”
“The night?” he asked, uncertain he was hearing correctly. The gasp coming from Julie served to indicate that she was equally concerned.
“Drew is getting help for the girls…and before you ask, they are fine. Drew reports Tiffany has been seen by a doctor, but they cannot fly back to the states until tomorrow. As for you and Ms. Baxter, we’re working to get you to an airstrip so that he can pick you up. He’s still checking, but there are no fuckin’ birds that he can get hold of today.”
Walker had kept his eyes on the road while talking to Tate, not wanting to spare a glance toward Julie, hating to see what he was sure was going to be panic in her eyes. Another touch on his arm drew his gaze sideways.
“It’s okay,” she said, her eyes searching his. “We’ll do whatever we have to do. I trust you.”
The tightness in his chest eased slightly, and he nodded his appreciation. “We’re good, Tate. I’ll let you know when we get to Cobá.”
Disconnecting, he sighed before saying, “I know you wanted to see the girls tonight.”
The road was rough, and he kept his eyes straight ahead. He felt, rather than saw, her nod.
“I did, but I feel better knowing that they’re safe and Tiffany’s getting medical help. Drew can’t just snap his fingers and get a helicopter in to pick us up, and,” she said with her arms waving around toward the jungle encroaching on either side of the road, “we’re not anywhere where he can get us anyway.”
His lips twitched in a grin, and he said, “You’re making this almost too easy on me.” Her head tilted and he continued, “You’re not pitching a fit, complaining, moaning and groaning—”
“I beg your pardon,” she said in an exaggerated offense, her hand splayed against her chest. “Not all damsels in distress are drama queens. Some of us are quite independent.”
They both laughed, and he was glad for the ease of their conversation. He had been on a number of missions but could not remember the last time he enjoyed the company of someone other than his fellow Keepers or former SEAL brothers. With another glance to the side, he found himself looking forward to spending more time with her. As long as I can keep her safe, maybe a night together will be a good thing. At the thought, his dick twitched, and he fought a growl. Nope. Not going to go down that line of thinking. She’s still a mission. Now, to convince his cock.
19
Coming to the end of the dirt road at the intersection of the road leading to Cobá, Walker carefully watched for any movement. Turning to the right would take them to the small village that Tate had warned them about, but he saw no vehicles on the road. Pulling out toward the left, it only took a moment for them to see the small town of Cobá ahead.
“I’ll bet you’re glad to be back on pavement,” he said, figuring the bone-jarring dirt road they had been on was not the most pleasant for Julie.
A sigh came from the passenger seat, and she replied, “I have to admit that the smoother ride does feel better.”
Just then the tires of the Jeep hit a section of pavement that was potted with holes, and they both laughed. “I guess I spoke too soon,” she quip
ped, her voice jiggling with the movement.
The town looked like the others they had passed through, stone and concrete walls and buildings, some painted bright colors, others plain and bare. The biggest difference was that one side of the jungle fell away, leaving a large expanse of water visible. Lined with palm trees, it lent a calm, peaceful feel to the village.
The parking lot at the entrance of the walkway leading to the Cobá ruins was empty, giving credence to Tate’s information. Spying the lowered-brow confusion on Julie’s face, he said, “Almost everything is closed today, but I expect it to be back up and running tomorrow.”
Nodding her understanding, she said, “But can we stay hidden when we’re so conspicuous?”
He appreciated her understanding of the situation, but instead of replying, he drove straight past the small gate and onto the walking path leading to the ruins.
Gasping, she said, “I don’t think you’re supposed to drive on this!”
“I’m sure I’m not,” he said dryly.
She remained quiet, and he drove along the dusty, packed dirt path, avoiding the occasional tall tree trunk growing in the middle of the path. It only took a few minutes until they came to the widened area near the ruins, the stone buildings and pyramids more easily seen. He continued around the back of some of the buildings near one of the lakes and parked, hidden in the jungle.
Neither spoke for a moment, then she finally shifted in her seat, looked at him, and asked, “It’s only the middle of the afternoon. What are we supposed to do?”
A flash of what he would like to do moved through his mind, but pushing it to the side once again, he smiled and said, “I suggest we explore the ruins.” Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and he enticed, “Step outside your planner. This wasn’t even on your itinerary, so use it to explore something new.”
The surprise was replaced with a clap of glee, and she said, “You’re right.” Her hand moved to the door handle, then she hesitated. Shoulders slumped, she asked, “Will we be safe?”
Walker: Lighthouse Security Investigations Page 10
