A female voice said in his ear, Go ahead, Cowboy.
Hiya, Raven. Raven was the call sign of Jennifer Blackfoot, the commander of the civilian side of the house within H.O.T. Watch. She was an extremely sharp cookie.
Is White Horse around? That was his bosss, Brady Hathaways, field handle.
Nope. Hell be out for at least the next two weeks. A search-and-rescue in a remote location.
John swore under his breath. Search-and-rescue missions often turned into frustrating and fruitless searches for needles in haystacks. They could take weeks to complete or finally be called off. His boss was well and truly out of the picture for a good long time. John scowled. It wasnt that he objected in any way to working with Agent Blackfoot. But right now, he needed a Spec Ops team in the worst way. Theyd spent the past year cross-training the military and civilian sides of the H.O.T. Watch house for just this sort of occasion. Apparently, he was the lucky bastard who got to put the training to the test.
He said, Pirate Petes delivered a package for a guy named Michael Montez a while back. I need to know what weve got on him and that delivery.
Well get right on it. Anything else? Jennifer replied.
Yeah. Ive got a hostage situation on my hands. Three civilians. This Montez kid and my clients parents are being held by probable drug dealers operating out of this area. Standby for the coordinates weve been given for our next rendezvous.
Cool as a cucumber after shed copied down the numbers, Jennifer asked, Do you want us to run a profile on your client?
A stab of regret pierced him. But there was no help for it. This was life and death stuff they were dealing with out here. There was no time for emotion or personal feelings. Oh, yeah, he replied. He dared not take a chance that she was holding out on him any further. This op had gone from milk toast to high explosives in the blink of an eye.
Were on it. What else do you need, Cowboy?
I need a team down here, ASAP. Covert insertion, area surveillance, regional intel, threat analysis. The works.
A pause. Peru isnt a country I can randomly insert a full-blown team into without involving the powers that be. Its going to take a little time to arrange.
The Tangos are threatening to torture and kill three American hostages, and I believe this bunch will do it. I can slowball our trek, but weve got three, maybe four days to pull this thing together.
Understood. Ill do my best.
Her best was usually formidable. Thanks, Raven.
Ill call when we have a briefing package for you.
He disconnected the call. And looked up into a pair of snapping black eyes that would have struck him dead if they could. What? he asked Melina a bit irritably.
You made my brother sound like a criminal!
No, I asked for more information on a possible connection to this mission.
Hes not connected to this! Hes a prisoner, at risk of dying, for goodness sake.
John shrugged. Hes a possible leak. My people are going to have a look at him.
Who were you talking to, anyway?
Some friends. Back at Pirate Petes.
And you think a bunch of mail haulers and bush pilots can find out about some drug lord whos running around down here kidnapping folks?
He shrugged. Youd be surprised. Its all about who you know, and we have a few connections here and there. If someone owes us a favor, we can ask a question or two.
If you drag your buddies into this, let the record show their lives are on your head, not mine.
Her words were a dagger straight to his gut. He gasped in physical pain and struggled to draw his next breath. She might as well have given him a sharp blow to his solar plexus. His buddies lives were on his head. Christ. He couldnt go there again. How long he sat there, gasping like a fish out of water, he didnt know.
Finally, he gathered himself enough to say, Weve got to get well away from this car before daylight. Lets go.
So youll go with me? she cried out joyfully.
Are there any more bombshells you havent dropped on me yet? he retorted.
No. Thats everything.
He shook his head. Then I guess Im going with you. I cant let a lamb like you walk into a den of lions all by yourself.
She reached over and squeezed his hand. Her touch shot through him like a hot shower on a cold day. That woman sure had gotten under his skin.
To her credit, Melina held up fairly well through the initial trek away from the Land Rover. She must work out in her spare time. That, and having lived in Mexico City at five-thousand-foot altitude, their current altitude of around nine thousand feet hadnt done her in completely.
But even he was feeling the thin air, complete with a distinctive altitude headache and lightheadedness, by the time dawn began to tint the sky in front of them. He paused, and Mel pulled up beside him and sank to the ground gratefully, panting.
What do you say we find a nice hidey-hole and get some rest? he said.
I thought youd never ask.
You shouldve said something if you needed to stop. Im not out here to kill you, Mel.
He winced at the pained look that flashed across her face. Okay, poor choice of words. You sit there and rest. Ill build us a shelter.
She nodded wearily as he moved off, looking for a likely spot. He found a pair of fallen trees lying side by side about six feet apart. It would be a tight squeeze for the two of them, but for camouflage, he couldnt ask for better. Efficiently, he slung a tarp between the logs, being careful not to disturb the layers of moss on the bark as he lashed the roof into place. A couple minutes of tossing dead leaves and dirt on the tarp, some brush to hide the entrance, and they had a cozy little nest, safe from prying eyes.
Melina must be more exhausted than she was letting on. She made no comment when he led her to the shelter. She just crawled inside, stretched out on the down sleeping bag hed spread out on a bed of soft boughs, and closed her eyes.
Im going to get some sleep, too, he murmured as he crawled in after her. If, for some reason, something wakes you up that doesnt happen to wake me up, give me a poke, okay?
One eye opened to stare at him blearily. In about two minutes, a marching band could go through here and I wouldnt hear it.
He laughed. Okay, then. Well rely on my reflexes. Although, as he lay down, doubt in his reflexes flashed through him. He hadnt been out in the field in a very long time, and his system was far from clean from the sedatives and narcotics hed been doping himself up on for months. Who knew if a threatening noise would wake him from a deep sleep in his current state? He dared not pull a sixty-hour, no-sleep marathon, though. He was alone out here without backup, and there was no telling if the anti-fatigue meds would work properly on him right now-or work at all, for that matter. Damn, he was a mess. What the hell had he been thinking to let himself get hooked on painkillers and muscle relaxants? Hell, hed even started taking sleeping pills about a month ago.
He set his wristwatch alarm for four hours and closed his eyes.
He mustve slept because he dreamed. Disjointed, bloody nightmares of the Afghan ambush and being chased by the animated, dead bodies of his team. No matter how far or fast he ran, their ghosts were always right there behind him, reaching out to him, trying to speak to him. He didnt want to hear what they had to say!
He awoke, agitated and out of breath, disoriented. Where was he? Green half-light filtered down from a tarp overhead, and the cold and damp of lying on the ground had seeped into his bones. His back, unaccustomed to these conditions, was killing him. He glanced at his watch. The alarm wouldnt go off for another fifteen minutes or so. Perfect.
Taking his backpack with him, he crept outside, being careful not to wake Melina. He rummaged around in a side pocket, experiencing a moment of panic when what he sought wasnt immediately obvious. Urgently, he dug around, and then breathed a huge sigh of relief when he came up with the brown plastic bottle. His hands shaking so badly he almost couldnt tear the lid off, he got the bottle open and poured a half-dozen white pills and four pink pills into his palm. He didnt bother with water. He tossed the lot down dry, and closed his eyes in soul-deep relief. The pain hadnt even abated yet, but just the knowing that it was going to be better soon was enough to send sweet freedom singing through his blood. He already felt halfway human again.
He opened his eyes.
And jolted.
A pale face stared at him from beyond the curtain of brush, still and shocked.
Melina.
Crap. Shed seen it all.
Chapter 9
Stark, cold fear washed over Melina. How bad off was he, this man who was supposed to save her familys lives?
No sense hiding from the truth. Hed already seen her staring out at him. He knew that she knew. She crawled outside on her hands and knees and sat back on her haunches to face him. Just how badly did you hurt your back eight months ago? she asked matter-of-factly.
Are you asking as my client or my doctor? he retorted sharply.
Both, she replied evenly.
He shrugged. Bad enough. It may never be right.
What exactly did you do to it?
You already saw the scar. I was shot. And then I crawled around on it for a couple of days. It got infected, and the surgeons who removed the bullet had to take out a chunk of meat, too.
How did you get shot?
His gaze clouded over with painful memories. Shed meant the question in a technical sensehow close was the shooter, what angle had the bullet entered his bodybut he seemed to be thinking of more than that. But whatever was on his mind, he didnt answer her.
Okay, then. Not gonna be the worlds most cooperative patient.
I cant help if you wont talk to me.
He snorted with what was supposed to pass as laughter, but came out sounding more like a gasp of pain to her. Ive lost count of the people whove said that exact line to me over the past few months.
Theyre right.
He glanced up at her, his gaze piercing her with its power. Im aware of that.
This was no simple guy with a painful secret. This was a warrior in his prime. A man of authority and responsibility. Used to being in complete control, of himself and his environment. And clearly, he was not adapting well to not being in control over this.