Cherry Adair - T-flac 03 (39 page)

She straddled him, bringing her knee up to pin his chest to the ground. He screamed obscenities.

Delanie sat there for a moment, panting, wondering what the hell she was doing. She had no idea what came next.

He slammed his fist into her jaw. She bit her tongue, tasting her own blood, as he rolled over and jumped to his feet. Sweat stung Delanie's eyes, as she staggered upright to swing blindly at his head.

Focus, damn it. Focus
.

"I am going to kill you,
puta
. Make no mistake." Blood smeared his handsome face and stained his shirt as he advanced on her. This time he had a knife in his hand. A large, lethal, shiny knife. Where the hell had he found
that
?

"Funny," she taunted, "that's not what
I
was thinking." She kept her eyes on his, ready for a move. "I want
you
to live a long, long time, Ramon." She backed up slowly as he advanced. "In a small, filthy,
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crowded jail cell. We'll see who's the
puta
then, won't we?"

A brief succession of shots sounded in the trees. A yell, a curse, and then silence.

Montero charged.

She took a step to the side, miscalculated, and felt the water close over the top of her boot. She used both hands to wrest his hand away from her throat, pushing hard, using her full body weight until he was forced back. The wet leather of her boot caused her to slip. The water came almost to her knee. Her other foot started losing traction on the crushed vegetation. Her heart slammed up into her throat.

Montero grabbed her, spinning her around to face the water, one arm wrapped around her throat, holding the knife close to her eyes.

"Take a last look around before you are blinded,
puta
." The hand holding the knife shook as he brought it to the bridge of her nose. Delanie's heart pumped faster. Her elbow slammed back into his hard stomach. The knife dropped from her face, splashing into the water. She turned, using both hands clasped together as a club to swing at him, hitting him hard on the temple.

Stumbling, his foot came down hard on the edge; soil and ground cover crumbled into the water. Off balance, he screamed as his foot sank. He tottered precariously, his arms windmilling for balance. One foot sank ankle-deep in the water as he tried to regain his equilibrium on shifting sand. His other foot failed to find purchase on slick, wet vegetation.

"
Madre de Dios
! Help me, help me." He staggered. His hand brushed the water, and he shrieked hysterically.

God. Had she come to this? Delanie grabbed his flailing arm.

"
Andale! Andale!"
He threw himself toward her, grabbing her forearm with both hands. "Delanie!

Ayúdame
!"

She
was
trying to help him, damn it. Bracing her feet as best she could, she struggled with his dead weight, trying to pull him upright.

He was now thigh deep.

Her foot slipped a few inches, water splashed her legs. She dug her boot heels firmly into the tightly woven ground cover.

Suddenly she felt strong hands on her other arm and she was jerked backward a few inches.

"Ever heard the expression 'No good deed goes unpunished?' " Kyle asked laconically, keeping a death grip on her upper arm and almost ripping it from its socket.

Montero held fast to her other arm. Blood dripped from his nose and arm, creating delicate pink ripples in the clear water. Small bubbles formed on the surface. There was a flash of silver. Then another. Then another.

"Ah, Kyle? Could we speed this up a little?"

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Montero's hands slid down her arm, causing heat friction. Her foot slid a fraction closer to the water.

Kyle gave her a sudden sharp jerk, sending her sprawling in the dirt behind him. Montero shrieked as he toppled over with an enormous splash and went under. He shot back to the surface, propelled by hysteria, screaming. And screaming. And screaming. He went under again. A cloud of pink water floated around him. Bubbles shot rapidly to the surface.

Delanie staggered to her feet, coming to stand beside Kyle. Silvery shapes materialized around Montero under the water. "Oh God, we can't—"

"You feel compassion, after what he's done to you?"

"No. Yes. I don't know. But we can't just stand here while he's eaten alive!" Montero's terror sent chills down her sweaty spine.

"Sure we can," Kyle said coldly, watching the other man's head go glug-glug beneath the water again.

Now there were a hundred silvery ribbons flashing, weaving around Montero. He beat the water with his arms, incoherent with terror.

"I'm going to throw up," Delanie yelled above the gurgles, loathing Montero, yet unable to watch him die literally by inches. "Please, get him out."

"Those damned fish aren't going to eat a human being," Kyle assured her. "Not a
whole
one, at any rate."

She stared at him, appalled. "That's worse!"

Kyle looked down at her. "Your call. Really want him out?"

She shuddered. "Yes."

"Doc to Dare," Kyle said quietly. He held her gaze.

"Yo."

"Can you do a garbage pickup at the pond?"

"On my way."

"Walk
slowly
," Kyle instructed grimly. "Out." He dropped his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go."

Delanie glanced back and gagged. "Don't puke, jungle girl. Time's a-wasting."

Montero's screams followed them as they took the route to the hidden bomb shelter.

"Block it out," Kyle advised, his arm still around her shoulders. He detoured to pick up various weapons from the path. She noticed several man-size dark lumps in the foliage and averted her eyes without comment.

Now that the adrenaline rush had ebbed, nerve endings all over her body screamed. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth so she wouldn't cry out. The pain in her leg returned with a vengeance, and made her want to double over and whimper. She was bruised from head to toe. Yet she'd never felt
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more alive in her life. After handing her a handgun and an Uzi, Kyle wrapped his arm around her again and they walked two abreast.

"All he has to do is keep his head and
walk
out," he told her. "Hell, the dickhead could be out of there before Dare arriv—" His words cut off at the sound of an avalanche of gunfire. Close. Too close.

"Oh, no. Not again!" she wailed as Kyle pushed her down flat in the rotten vegetation. She obeyed without a whimper, sweat stinging her eyes, heart pounding. More than happy to lie still for a moment.

He dropped onto his stomach beside her, eyes constantly moving, gun pointed at the path they'd just left.

Sighing, Delanie lifted her Uzi and aimed it in the same general direction. "I'm getting pretty sick of all this action, you know," she groused, feeling his length beside her. She leaned her chin on his shoulder, watching for more bad guys. He smelled strongly of jungle.

Her head shot up as they heard more shots. Closer now. A few yells. English. American. "The cavalry."

Kyle grinned at her, his teeth very white in his dirty face.

He was as sweaty and exhausted as she was. Delanie leaned over and kissed him. Hard. "How're you doing, Tarzan?"

"Good. You?"

She shuddered. "Peachy. What happened to good old Bruno?"

"He died of acute lead poisoning." He touched her cheek. "Ready to find your sister now?"

«^»

They hadn't seen anyone as they'd headed toward the bomb shelter. Delanie walked beside him on autopilot. Kyle put his arm out to stop her. She glanced at him. He jerked his head, indicating someone hidden behind the structure.

"Show yourself," he said softly, holding the SIG ready. A man stepped around the corner, his weapon extended. Kyle relaxed, recognizing one of his own men. He lowered his gun. "Anything?"

"One in, no one out, sir. As instructed, I haven't been inside, if you'd like—?" He was young and eager, but Kyle shook his head.

"We'll do the—" He spun on his heel as another man melted through the trees. "Hell, it's a party.

Couldn't find any more action, Dare?"

Beside him, Delanie's eyes went wide at the size of the man. He topped Kyle by two inches. His size alone was intimidating; the scar bisecting his cheek, grotesque.

Delanie didn't even blink. "You're the guy from the cafe."

"And you're a shitload of trouble, lady." He gave Delanie what was supposed to be an amused glance.

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Unfortunately it looked more like a grimace. Dare shrugged. "I left the cleanup to the others. You two seem to be having all the fun; I thought I'd follow you and see what else came up."

"Give us a few moments for a private party. I'll yell if we need you." Kyle turned to her. "I don't suppose I could prevail upon you to stay up here with Dare?"

She looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Okay, jungle girl. The second that door opens, whoever is down there will be ready for us. Keep to the wall. Get down to the bottom fast. Step sharply to your left, and be ready for anything." He gave her a searching look. She held the gun he'd given her close to her face, pointing to the sky, just as he'd shown her.

"Let's do it," she said, and he could practically see the adrenaline race through her.

Kyle nodded to the young soldier, who opened the door with no difficulty. That wasn't a good sign. If Isabella was hiding down there, she'd have the damn door barricaded against intruders. Instead the door had been left slightly ajar. The only thing missing was the damn welcome mat.

They raced down the cement steps together. There was no need to be silent; the glare from the sunlight was their calling card.

The second Delanie's feet touched the last step she saw her.

Lauren.

Eyes closed, face slack, her sister lay on the red satin cover like Sleeping Beauty. She wore the familiar blue muumuu, and Delanie's heart beat like a trip-hammer at the sight of it on her sister. It took a moment for her to notice the IV stand on the far side of the bed. It held a plastic bag, dripping clear liquid into Lauren's left arm.

Delanie took a hasty step forward and was brought up short by Kyle's hand on her arm. Her head shot up, and she saw why he'd stopped her.

"Dr. Wright," Isabella said dulcetly, stepping out of the shadows. "And my own dear Delanie." She positioned herself between the two sisters. Her ecru linen pants and matching shirt were soiled with moisture and dirt, her usually immaculate hair hung wildly around her shoulders. She pointed a small pistol at Lauren.

"Both labs are gone and your son and the others are on their way to Florida to await trial." Kyle didn't lower his own weapon. "There's nothing left here for you, Isabella. Come quietly and avoid getting hurt."

Isabella laughed. "What I want, my dear Dr. Wright, is a helicopter to fly me to San Cristobal and a guarantee of safe passage to my home in Switzerland."

"Sorry, just turned down the same dumb-ass request from your son. Not going to happen." His smile was cold and savage.

The air in the small room felt close and still smelled of dead stinkbug. But it was the scent of Isabella's perfume that made Delanie break out in a cold sweat. She swallowed the dryness in her mouth. Isabella couldn't harm her. She had a gun and Kyle was standing right here with her. That Darius guy and the
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other man were waiting above ground…

But God, just hearing the woman's voice made her sick inside. Fear kept her immobile.
Get a grip
, she warned herself. It took several agonizing moments for her brain to focus on the present.

Kyle and Isabella had a standoff. Why didn't he…
do
something? Then she saw why he wasn't going to rush the bitch. It wasn't Isabella's gun holding him back, it was what the woman held in her other hand.

A small, familiar black control panel.

Blood drained from Delanie's head. Oh, sweet Jesus.

Mesmerized, her eyes remained glued to the small horror.

"You recognize this, do you not?" Isabella purred, glittering black eyes focused on her.

Delanie resisted the urge to put her hands up to her throat. "You sadistic bitch. I hope you rot in hell for what you've done."

"I could have made a fortune with you, my dear. You were quite responsive. No," she warned, stepping nearer the bed. "Do not come any closer." She used the plastic box in her hand to indicate Lauren. "Your sister, I believe?"

"I didn't think it possible for two girls to be equally uncooperative. This one was returned to me,"

Isabella informed her, her voice cold and venomous. "Returned! Never has this happened to me. Never!

Madre Dios
, I was shamed. No matter how much of the drug was administered, this little bitch refused to cooperate."

God, Lauren's face was gray, and there was no sign of life. "Is she dead?" Delanie was surprised her voice didn't break.

"Hmmm." Isabella shrugged. "Let's see…" Before either of them could move, Isabella pressed down on the control panel in her hand. Lauren's body bowed in a hideous arc before she fell bonelessly back on the bed.

Rage, black, violent, and immediate, mobilized Delanie. Without premeditation her leg shot out in a
jeté
.

The thick rubber sole of her heavy combat boot hit Isabella square on the chin. She dropped like a rag doll across Lauren's legs.

"Damn!" Kyle said admiringly. "Nicely done, jungle girl." He grabbed Isabella's unconscious form and tossed her aside. Delanie fell to her knees beside the bed.

"Oh God, baby, what have they done to you?" Her voice broke. The necklace had to come off, she thought hysterically. The damn necklace. Had. To. Come. Off. Her sweaty hands shook as she fumbled to find the magic links to free her sister. Her fingers were too slow, too shaky, to do any good.