Dangerous Desires (9 page)

“What about her?” Tyler frowned.

“She’s supposed to be in here helping you.”

“I haven’t seen her since you all left the temple.”

Avery swung around, eyes searching the shadowy room. “Madeline?” he called, keeping his voice pitched low but still loud enough for her to hear. No one answered.

“Damn it to hell,” Drake grated out.

“Well, we know she didn’t go out that way.” Nash nodded toward the narrow opening to the gorge. “We’d have heard them open fire.”

“Which means that she’s making a run for it.” Avery shifted so that he and Nash were standing on either side of the door, their positions as much for recon as for defense.

“But there’s no other way out,” Tyler objected.

“That we know of,” Drake sighed, anger warring with frustration. He should have known better than to leave her on her own. “But if she’s still in the compound, she’s out
there somewhere. I saw her heading up the steps. And if she’d come back down, we’d have seen her.”

“All right. So what do we do?” Nash asked, as another volley of bullets shattered the stones paving the terrace. “It’s not exactly the optimal time to send a search party.”

“I say we leave her and get the hell out of here,” Drake said.

“Not really a choice when you consider she’s the mission.” Tyler shrugged, leaning down to straighten out some filament wire she’d strung from the room behind her. “Or at least a major part of it.”

“How long until you’re ready?” Avery asked.

“A couple more minutes.”

“All right.” Avery nodded. “Do what you need to do.”

“Then we’ll have to go dark,” she said, her eyes shooting to the clearing outside. “I’ve got the explosives rigged to give us a little more distance. Should be enough to make the helicopter. But I can’t risk any kind of interference. Radio waves can be hell on electronic ignitions.”

“Right then.” Avery shrugged. “We’ve got no choice. Jason, you got everything ready from your end?”

“Yup. Chopper is here, and I’m on board. ETA eight minutes. Good luck.” Drake reached up to disconnect his com, the other team members following suit.

“Drake, I want you to find our missing package.” Avery nodded toward the doorway. “I doubt she’s gotten too far.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Drake said, lifting the Glock as he dropped into a crouch beside the door. “Madeline Reynard may be a lot of things, but helpless isn’t one of them.”

“Regardless, I want you to find her.” Avery’s tone was grim.

“Roger that,” Drake said.

“And then, once Tyler’s ready, we’ll all meet at the basin,” Avery said, “and, with any luck, blow this place to smithereens.”

M
adeline paused midway down the ragged steps leading from the temple to the pool below the falls. The pathway was barely discernible, ferns and vines covering the ancient stones. In places the steps had given way altogether, giant rain tree roots and other vegetation dislodging them, making the way all but impassable.

She skirted a fall of scree, rocks tumbling to the floor of the canyon below her. For a moment she froze, trying to remember the way. It had been months since she had last been here, and then she’d had the luxury of di Silva’s men guiding the way.

There was no doubt in her mind that if Ortiz managed to win the day, she was as good as dead. So she’d bolted, heading for the safety of the jungle—a laughable thought when one considered there were deadly predators hidden in the lush overgrowth. Both animal and human. But the jungles of the Valle del Cauca were vast, and despite the
threat, no one there was specifically targeting her. And that was at least an advantage.

All she had to do was keep low and let the two factions battle it out. Then when it was safe, she could circle back to Cali and freedom. It was an imperfect plan at best, but gunfire from the terrace above had decided her course of action.

She felt a twinge of regret, thinking of Drake. He’d risked his life for her, after all, but the hard truth was that if she wanted to stay alive—and free—this was the best course of action.

Moving gingerly down the broken path, she stopped as she reached a bromeliad-covered wax palm, the parasites beautiful even as they sucked the life from the palm’s branches. Here the stones stopped, the path continuing downward into the jungle and then cutting over to the pool beneath the waterfall.

Sucking in a breath, she hurried on, gingerly picking her way over gnarled roots and lichen-covered stones. It was a difficult climb at best, and with the recent rains, parts of the path had been completely washed away. Still, it was her best chance.

The air was heavier here, under the canopy. Hot and humid. Her hair plastered itself against her skin and her clothes were quickly drenched from perspiration. Orchids clung to the sides of trees and poked their elegant faces out of crevices in the rocks. The heavy overgrowth muffled the sounds from the ruins, the silence broken only by the plaintive calls of the birds above her and the soft sound of the falls off to the south.

She picked up her pace, moving more surely now as
the ground began to level out. Just a little bit farther and she’d be out of danger, at least for the moment.

At the base of a giant saman tree the path angled sharply left, the tree’s massive roots making forward progress seemingly impossible. Cursing nature in general, and Hector Ortiz in particular, she stepped back into the relative protection of the tree’s umbrella-shaped canopy as she tried to figure out the best way to get past the protruding roots.

Above her, a parrot shrieked and took to the air, its feathers a brilliant gold against the green of the overhanging trees. Across the way, the ferns edging the path shimmied as another bird shot out of the tree, its startled cry sending Madeline’s heart racing.

Something was coming.

Moving with an agility she hadn’t known she possessed, she dove under the massive roots, squirming her way beneath them. Her shirt caught against the rough bark, pulling her backward, and with an angry growl she ripped it off, then reached upward to grasp the base of the root and pull herself through to the other side, grabbing her bag as she slid to her feet.

Behind her, a man broke through the vegetation, stepping onto the path. She recognized him. One of di Silva’s house guards. He smiled, a gold tooth glistening in the light, as he raised his rifle.

Madeline stumbled as a bullet winged past her. The man’s laughter echoed through the trees as she fought to regain her balance, tumbling forward as gravity won the day. She hit hard on her knees, and then pushed back to her feet, heading off the path for the cover of the jungle. Branches tore at her camisole and hair as she ran, panic taking sway over any sense of purpose or direction.

Dodging rocks and trees, she tore through the undergrowth, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She could hear him behind her, and knew that he was closing in fast. She pushed herself into a sprint, intent only on increasing the distance between them. Ahead of her, a pile of rocks loomed out of the shadowy darkness, their slick faces covered with moss and heliconias.

She slid to a stop, her heart hitting her throat as she realized she was standing on a precipice. Two hundred feet below her, the jungle floor mocked her with the promise of freedom. Frantically she searched for a way down, but she was trapped.

She whirled around as the man burst through the undergrowth, his eyes turning feral as he realized he had her cornered. Raising the gun, he circled closer, even as she edged backward, the sharp edges of the rocks digging into the back of her legs.

“Venga aquí,”
he called, crooking his finger.

She shook her head. No fucking way was she going anywhere with him.

He advanced a step, and she slid sideways against the rocks, looking for a way around him. “Your bosses wouldn’t appreciate your threatening me this way.” She bit the words out, overenunciating every syllable. Her Spanish might not be perfect, but she could see that her words had given him pause. His eyes narrowed as he considered her, and then with a tight-lipped smile he slid closer, his gaze falling to her breasts.

“They are not here,” the man said, and then lunged forward, pushing her back against the rocks, his heavy body pinning her in place as his lips descended.

She screamed and fought against him, raking her
fingernails down the side of his cheek, but the pain only seemed to spur him onward as he grasped her breast, his breath putrid against her face. Blind fury raced through her as she swung her knee up into his groin.

He groaned with pain, but his grip only tightened. “You’ll pay for that,” he whispered, his fingers twisting her hair as he pulled her closer. “But first I will make you mine.”

“I belong to no one,” she spat, struggling against him as she tried to break free.

His laughter was vicious as he pushed her down to her knees.

For a moment, she pretended to acquiesce and then with a violent shove, she pushed him back, springing to her feet, intent only on escape. But he grabbed her hair and swung her around, until he had her pinned again against the rocks. “You are a fighter.” He smiled. “I like that.”

Panic threatened, and she pushed it away. If she was going to survive, she couldn’t give in to her fear. She forced herself to smile and lick her lips, deflecting his attention, as she reached behind her, her fingers closing around a loose stone.

He leaned forward, eyes cloudy with lust, and she swung with all of her might, the rock hitting his skull with a satisfying thwack.

The man spun backward, holding his head, blood dripping into his eye.
“Puta pendeja.”

She launched herself in the direction of the jungle, but he was faster, his fingers biting into her shoulder as he slammed her back into the rocks. Her head hit the stone hard, her body jerking as pain cascaded down her neck and arms.

Her vision blurred as she tried to fight, but he was too
strong, his hands closing around her neck—tightening, cutting off the precious supply of blood to her brain. She struggled to breathe, to stay conscious—to stay alive—but somewhere inside her, she knew it was a losing battle.

“I don’t think we can hold them off much longer,” Nash said, ducking back inside the temple as bullets slammed the walls outside. “They’re better equipped and they’ve got us outmanned. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Still no sign of Drake?” Avery asked, looking up from the relay he was helping Tyler assemble.

“No. And by my count we’ve only got a few minutes until the chopper’s here.” He glanced down at his watch with a frown.

Drake was always pushing it too far. Testing the boundaries. Thumbing his nose at death one bullet at a time. Not that Nash would have done it any differently. Truth be told, he was as much of an adrenaline junkie as his friend. Although now that he had a son, he had to admit that he was a little bit more likely to err on the side of caution. Adam deserved the chance to have a real family, and Nash was determined to give it to him.

“Well, everything’s ready here,” Tyler said, standing up and brushing the dust off her shirt and pants. “I’d just feel better if Drake were back.”

“I know, but Nash is right.” Avery frowned. “We can’t afford to wait any longer. And it’s not like we don’t have a contingency plan. Drake knows to head for the coast if something goes wrong.”

“Don’t worry.” Nash reached out a hand to reassure Tyler. “He’ll make it back. He’s just waiting for the right moment. You know how he likes to make an entrance.”

They all laughed, but despite the effort the tension still stretched tight. They’d been in worse situations, but Nash still didn’t like the odds. They were surrounded by di Silva’s men, and someone, most probably someone they knew, had fucked with Tyler’s equipment.

This wasn’t the first time the team had come up against deliberate sabotage. They’d had problems on at least three of their last missions, twice with almost deadly results. And it was hard to ignore the very real possibility that it was someone with a connection to A-Tac. Nash drew the line at suspecting his friends. It was impossible to even consider the idea. But with this latest episode, he knew it was going to be hard to convince the powers that be that no one from the unit was involved.

“We’ll figure it all out,” Avery said. “We always do. But right now, we’ve got to focus on blowing the explosives and getting the hell out of here.”

Nash nodded, pushing away his unsettled thoughts. Avery was right—they needed to focus on the now.

“How do you want to do this?” Avery asked, pushing to his feet to eye the area immediately outside the door.

“They’ve got men positioned on the cliffs to the north and south. And unfortunately, people at the mouth of the clearing. They haven’t been able to get any farther than that because the opening is so narrow that even with cover from the cliffs I can still pick the bastards off. So far I’ve gotten five.”

“But you won’t have the same advantage when we move into the open,” Tyler said.

“No.” He shook his head, joining Avery at the mouth of the temple. “And thanks to Madeline’s defection, we’ve lost Drake. Which leaves only the three of us.”

“Not the worst of odds.” Avery shrugged.

“All right,” Tyler said, “give me a second to get things set, and then we’re out of here.”

“You’re going to wait to blow it until we’re aboard, right?”

“Yes,” she affirmed. “With everything di Silva’s got sequestered here, it’s going to be one hell of a bang. I want to give the chopper a chance to take off before the reverberation from the explosion hits.”

“And we want to give Drake as much time as possible to make it back.”

Tyler’s expression turned grim. “Once that thing blows, no one is going to make it back to the courtyard from that direction.”

“Son of a bitch,” Nash whispered, anger coloring his voice. “We shouldn’t have let him go after her.”

“Delivering Ms. Reynard to Washington is a primary directive of our mission. If it hadn’t been Drake, someone else would have had to go,” Avery said. “Let’s just concentrate on doing what we have to do and trust that Drake will take care of himself. You ready?”