by Cindy Dees
That wasn’t the point. Harry protested. “Sir, two American citizens have been kidnapped. It’s the responsibility of our government to help them.”
The man snapped, “It’s the responsibility of this government to look out for its national interests.”
The bastard. He wasn’t going to lift a finger to help Amanda and Taylor. As long as they didn’t get in his way, this guy was willing to hang them out to dry.
“By the way, Trumpman, I got a profile on your operatives. Want to explain why you’ve got a clinical psychologist running around in the field doing wet ops?”
“No comment,” Harry growled.
“Look. Give it a few days. If nobody contacts you asking for cash, give me a call and I’ll see what I can do.”
“My people may not live that long!” Harry exclaimed.
“I’m sorry. That’s the best I can do.”
“Yeah, well, thanks, anyway.” Harry hung up the phone, staring at it in angry disbelief. The cold-hearted son of a bitch. They both knew the Russians had his operatives. Harry snorted. Two days. In two days, the Russians could completely pick a person’s brains and fry them with drugs. Uncle Sam was throwing Amanda and Taylor to the wolves.
They forced Taylor to sit in the van for nearly an hour with no explanation. Then the guard threw the van’s door open and gestured him out. He got out clumsily, stiff from sitting so long. The jerk jabbed him in the back with an Uzi, shoving him toward a low stucco building in front of them. Taylor assessed his surroundings hastily. A decrepit hacienda, with low-roofed houses and barns arranged in a loose square around a central courtyard. Even in moonlight, the place was a ramshackle ruin. He stumbled and caught himself as the guy behind him poked him again.
“Cut it out,” Taylor snapped. “I’m going willingly here.”
The jerk laid off with the Uzi but stayed behind him. Taylor ducked through the low doorway into a filthy room, long abandoned. Four Eyes already sat at the lone table in the main room. A second chair was empty across from him. It was to this Taylor was prodded. A couple more pokes with that damned gun and he was going to take it from the guard and shove it up his…
The bespectacled man uttered a short, sharp command in some Slavic tongue Taylor didn’t recognize. Pokey Man laid off. And then in English, Four Eyes said, “Sit down, my friend. Please forgive my associate’s behavior. He is what he is, I am afraid.”
Yeah. A moron about to get his ass kicked. Taylor tamped down on his irritation and took the proffered seat. The ancient ruin of a chair creaked beneath his weight.
“Thank you for coming.”
“It wasn’t like I exactly had any choice in the matter,” Taylor grunted.
Four Eyes waved a dismissive hand. “That was all a show for the police. You can claim to have been kidnapped by thugs and the Mexican police will look no further. It was merely a cover.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “What sort of conversation requires a cover that gets men killed?”
Four Eyes answered earnestly, “I need to get in touch with your employer.”
Taylor snorted. “Well, Jesus. Then pick up the phone and call. There’s no need to run around killing people for that!”
“It is not that simple. Many people watch my movements at all times. Even contacting you like this required a great deal of planning.”
Taylor crossed his arms. “Okay. So here we are. What’s your message?”
Amanda laboriously followed the tracks out into the Mexican scrub. Thankfully, once she cleared Nuevo Laredo, the road only crossed a few intersections. The van carrying Taylor took two turns. The first one she spotted relatively easily. The second one had her backtracking for upward of a half hour, but finally, she picked up the tracks once more.
She spotted a cluster of buildings in the distance and slowed cautiously. Easing the rattling, coughing truck forward, she glimpsed what might be a van parked in the middle of the hacienda’s courtyard. She stopped her own vehicle and got out since she’d be a hell of a lot quieter approaching on foot. The nearly full moon was low in the sky but cast enough light to make out a broken-down old ranch that looked as if it had never lived to see a motorized vehicle until tonight.
She froze as a flare of light gave away the position of a man smoking. She squinted and made him out leaning against a porch post, a rifle slung over his shoulder. His cigarette tip flared orange as he sucked at it. Numbskull, she thought derisively. There was nothing like a glowing fag to give away a bloke’s position.
Amanda dropped to the ground as several shadows emerged from another building, talking low. Crap. Reinforcements. She eased up on to her elbows, peering around a sparse sage bush. Four more men. Weapons over every shoulder and additional holsters on three of them. They walked over to the smoker and had a brief conversation. The disconnected syllables that floated to her sounded Slavic. Four Eyes’s men maybe?
Who was this guy? He carried around millions in diamonds, made illegal arms deals and had a veritable army of protection. One of the extra guards stayed with the smoker while the other three returned to the building they’d come from.
Crawling, Amanda circled left and approached the guarded building—no doubt where Taylor was being held—from behind. Flat on her belly for the last hundred feet, she eased forward, praying there weren’t any scorpions or rattlesnakes out hunting.
She watched the building for several minutes. No patrolling guards, apparently. She moved up behind the low house and stood up slowly, peeking in the lone window. The glass was old and wavy, caked with grime. She made out two men sitting at a table. One of them leaned back and crossed his arms. Taylor. Thank God he wasn’t tied up and beaten or drugged. Yet.
She ducked under the window and moved around to the other side of it to get a better look at the other man. She caught a flash of reflected light off the guy’s face. Glasses. Four Eyes. She couldn’t hear what he said to Taylor, but a heavy frown crossed her partner’s face. What was going on in there? It didn’t look like any interrogation or kidnapper-victim exchange she’d ever seen.
Amanda looked around, considering options. There was a crumbling fireplace at one end of the large room, not far from the table where Taylor and Four Eyes were sitting. On the front walk, facing the porch and its guards, was a larger window. Two doors opened up in the wall to her left. Probably a privy and a bedroom or two.
She could go around front and take out the two guards, but the other thugs would probably hear it. Anyway, the others would notice the pair’s absence from their post on the porch sooner or later. She could climb up on the roof and listen from the fireplace. Not a bad option. Could be noisy, though, on old adobe tile. Or she could sneak into one of the side rooms. The big drawback to that one was that the windows she’d have to climb through faced the building with the additional guards.
Well, no help for it. She sidled around the end of the building on her belly. Her elbows were scratched and raw, but she dug them into the sharp gravel determinedly, inching her body forward. There were a few clumps of grass and a small tumble-weed, but no other cover to speak of. She was a sitting duck if the three guards happened to step outside and look this way.
She eased up under the first window and made out a small bedroom with two pairs of decayed bunk beds. No solid cover, and very little room to move. But then she heard movement in the building next door. It sounded like chairs pushing back. This room would have to do.
Using the dull knife she’d found in the truck, she scored the glazing and rotted wood around a pane of glass and pried it out. She set it on the ground beside her. She moved on to the next pane, looking over her shoulder for movements next door every few seconds. Two panes gone. The fourth pane was long departed already, which left only one more to go. She reached up to cut it out when a door opened. She dropped to the ground. She lay flat and motionless and watched through slitted eyes as one of the thugs stood in the doorway and had a look around. A wisp of cloud drifted across the moon, obscuring the light, and the
guy stepped back inside. The door closed.
Her heart pounding, she reached up quickly and freed the last piece of glass. It cracked as she lifted it out and one of the pieces clattered to the ground and shattered. Crap. She dived around the back side of the building. Footsteps pounded. She tested the edge of the knife and confirmed with dread that it wouldn’t cut butter, let alone human flesh. Options? She looked around fast and made a split-second choice.
She scrambled up onto the lip of an ancient rain barrel facing away from the house and jumped. Her fingers caught the edge of the roof. She felt the rotten wood start to break away, but she swung her feet frantically up over her head and landed on her belly on the roof. Blood rushed to her head as she lay there at an uncomfortable angle. She inched backward away from the edge of the roof, praying the structure would hold her weight. She sensed movement directly below and froze as two men crept around the corner, guns drawn.
Please God, let them not look up. She lay perfectly still, trying desperately to make like adobe. The shadows eased past. By slow inches, she pushed up onto her hands and crept across the uneven surface of the roof. Staying below the roofline, she eased across the expanse to the chimney and crouched down beside it. Voices drifted up to her.
Taylor was talking. Something about a message.
Then the bespectacled man’s accented baritone floated up. “Tell your employer I will have the stones shortly. They’re under production now and I will meet all the specifications.”
She frowned. What sort of stones would Devereaux order? To what specifications?
Taylor replied, “You’re sure about meeting the specs? That’s very important.”
“Yes, of course. The size was a problem as you know, but a flawless five-centimeter-by-five-centimeter wafer has proven possible.”
Amanda grinned to herself. Well done, Taylor.
Taylor spoke again. “Is payment arranged, or do you have any messages about that aspect of the deal, as well?”
Four Eyes was impatient. “No, no. Your employers should still transfer the funds to the offshore account I gave them.”
“Very well. Anything else you need to tell my boss?”
Four Eyes answered gruffly. “Actually, we come now to what you need to tell me. What arrangements have been made for my disappearance? What sort of cover have you built for me?”
Taylor’s voice floated up. “The arrangements are complete. But other ears are near. I think it best not to discuss any details just now, don’t you?”
A growl from the bespectacled man. “The deal was that I’d make contact with you when the diamond wafers were ready and you’d hand over my new identity.”
Taylor replied testily, “Well, the wafers aren’t in my hand, now, are they? I don’t see any merchandise sitting on this table. The deal stands. When the goods are ready for delivery, contact us and we’ll take care of you.”
Amanda was impressed. She’d never have guessed in a million years that Taylor was such a good liar. And then her attention was diverted by a sound. A vehicle coming up the road. Oh, lord. Please, not more reinforcements.
The conversation broke off abruptly inside. “What’s this?” Four Eyes demanded. “Did you bring backup with you?”
Taylor snorted, “How in the hell could I have done that? You’re the one who snatched me out of an office at gunpoint. I had no time to call in support.”
A new voice, probably one of the guards from the porch. “What do you want us to do?”
“Search my guest and make sure he doesn’t have any devices on him.”
“What sort of devices?” the guard asked.
Amanda snorted to herself. Must be the same mental giant who lit the cigarette earlier.
Four Eyes answered exasperatedly, “Radios. Homing beacons. Microphones. Transmitters. Anything that might signal his location to his comrades.”
Rustling came from inside—no doubt Taylor being stood up and patted down. A door opened and the roof vibrated slightly beneath her. An agitated voice announced, “There’s someone out here. Somebody cut out a couple window panes into the back bedroom recently.”
“How recently?” Four Eyes asked tersely.
“Within the hour. This asshole has backups out here. We found a truck, too. Piece of shit, but the engine’s warm.”
A loud crack like a palm on the surface of a table made her jump. “You double-crossed me!” Four Eyes bellowed.
The approaching vehicle downshifted as it drew near. Amanda cursed under breath. And took a deep breath. The shit was about to hit the proverbial fan.
Ten
Amanda watched a late-model sedan reach the edge of the compound. Abruptly, the engine gunned. The car leaped forward, scattering the three men who’d been standing relatively casually, watching its arrival. Amanda saw a single man fly out the driver’s door, firing a handgun rapidly. Whoever this maniac was, he had the good sense to dive and roll across the trunk of his car and take cover behind it.
The bespectacled man’s guards jumped in all directions, scrambling for cover and positions to shoot from. In the chaos, Amanda saw one of the guards leap around the far end of the building she lay on. Out of sight of all the others. Perfect.
As return fire rattled below, she used the noise to race across the roof. She paused for a moment at the edge, lined herself up with the man below and jumped. She landed with both feet planted squarely in the middle of the guy’s back. A quick, hard chop to the back of his head with her hand finished off any combat capability the guy had left after she’d flattened him. She snatched his Uzi, flung the shoulder strap on and yanked the guy’s pistol out of its holster, tucking it into her waistband at the small of her back. She moved to the corner of the building and peered around it during a volley of fire.
One of Four Eyes’s men crouched across the courtyard from her. It wasn’t a perfect shot, but it was clear enough. She lifted the Uzi to her shoulder and prayed the weapon’s sights were reasonably accurate. The next burst of gunfire exploded, and she squeezed off a single shot in the midst of the chaos. Her target dropped like a stone.
She ducked back behind the building and raced around it. She stopped shy of the other front corner. Crouching low, she had another look at the action before her. Whoever the guy in the car was, he was still pinned behind the vehicle. He appeared to have only a handgun. Outgunned and probably low on ammo, he only popped up sporadically to take a single shot.
A guard lay on the porch not ten feet from her, firing in over long bursts that raked the side of the car uselessly. She pulled out the pistol, holding it overhead, and stretched out on her belly. Timing her move with the guard leaning on the trigger of his weapon, she rolled out from behind the building and squeezed off two quick shots. The machine gun abruptly went silent.
She rolled back behind the building. A bullet ricocheted off the house, nicking the stucco and peppering her with plaster fragments. Crud. She was made. She jumped up and ran for the back of the house. She tossed the Uzi onto the roof and climbed the rain barrel again, swinging herself back up onto her perch. Odds were these turkeys weren’t trained enough to think in three dimensions in a situation like this. At least that was the hope. If she was wrong, she was dead.
The second the firing broke out, the guard bolted from the room, grabbing for his weapon. Four Eyes fumbled frantically at the latches to his briefcase. Taylor had no idea what was inside, but he didn’t wait around to find out. He dived across the table and launched himself at his captor. He got his hands around the guy’s throat as they crashed to the ground.
Four Eyes shoved his fists inside the circle of Taylor’s arms and pummeled his elbows painfully. The bastard was stronger than he looked. Rather than let the guy wreck his elbows, Taylor let go of his hold and rolled to the side. He came up onto his feet in one motion and swung at Four Eyes. The guy deflected part of the blow with his forearm but staggered back.
The bespectacled man dived for the briefcase that had skittered across the floor in Tay
lor’s initial attack. Taylor dived after him. Four Eyes rolled, but Taylor hung on grimly until he felt one of the guy’s hands slip. He used the opening to slam his fist into the side of the guy’s head. Four Eyes went limp beneath him. Taylor shoved to his feet, panting, then crashed to the floor as Four Eyes rolled and used his legs to sweep Taylor’s feet out from under him. He landed hard on his shoulder and his left side went numb. The bastard had played possum on him.
Taylor lashed out with his own foot and nailed Four Eyes squarely in the groin. The guy curled up around the blow like a bug, gasping in agony. Taking no chances this time, Taylor rolled out of range and jumped to his feet. Keeping a watchful eye on the man, he leaned down and picked up the guy’s briefcase. Taylor snapped it open and grabbed the pistol inside. What would Amanda do next if she were in his place?
Using the barrel of the weapon, Taylor smacked the light bulb in the fixture overhead. It exploded in a tinkling shower of glass. He ducked and raced for the window. Staying low, he risked a glance outside. A lone gunman hid behind the smoking ruins of a car in the middle of the courtyard. One man slumped motionless over his gun on the porch directly in front of him.
Muzzle-flashes lit up three more positions while he watched. He had a clear shot at one of Four Eyes’s gunmen. He crouched beside the door, waited for a burst of gunfire, and then spun into the doorway. He located his man and took the shot, just like in his training course. He spun back into the house without waiting to see the results.
Another quick look out the window. Either he’d hit his target or the guy’d moved. Speaking of which, he’d better move, too. Taylor sprinted across the room toward one of the two doors at the far end. He went sprawling headlong as something clamped around his ankle and yanked. Four Eyes. Taylor tucked his shoulder, rolled and popped back up on his feet in one fluid movement. Goddammit, that guy was tough to take out. Taylor turned and kicked blindly in the dark with all his strength. He connected with something solid and human and heard a thud.
