Jungle Inferno (19 page)

“I don’t know if—”

“You don’t know anything, you ass. How big a leap is it to believe she has the same abilities? That they can send messages back and forth to each other?”

“Jesus Christ.” Winslow sat up abruptly. “Let’s say I even believe a little of it. Do you mean he could be contacting her from…from where he is?”

“That’s just what I mean.”

Winslow felt sweat begin to gather on his face and neck. “So what do we do about it?”

“I’m already taking care of things from this end.” The tone of disgust was unmistakable. “Which I wouldn’t have to do if you’d been a little more thorough yourself.”

“Listen—”

“No, you listen. I’ll clean up your mess. Just try not to make another one.”

* * * * *

“We’ll all go to hell for this.” Mr. Green was hunched into a corner of the diner, drinking a cup of dreadful coffee, praying that his indigestion was the worst thing that would happen to him.

They’d chosen this particular place, a blip on the highway from DC to Annapolis, because no one they knew ever came here. Mr. Brown had once had a flat tire almost in the parking lot and waited there for road service.

“I think we’re already in hell,” Mr. Brown said. One taste of the coffee and he’d switched to a soft drink.

“Funny how things look and feel different when you aren’t talking about people.

Just money. Everything’s in the abstract. You know?”

Mr. Green took a swallow of coffee, made a face and pushed the cup away. “I guess I’ve gotten used to the killing as long as its thousands of miles away, I don’t have to see who’s being shot and I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Like I said. The abstract.”

Mr. Green waved away the waitress with her coffee pot of sludge. “I can’t see how this woman can possibly be a threat. She knows nothing and there’s no way for her to find out anything.”

Mr. Brown shrugged. “The top dog’s afraid she’ll start digging in the name of research for one of her damn books. And our resident geek discovered she knows Halloran. Too much coincidence for everyone’s taste.” He looked out the grimy window. “I warned him to wait until we were sure she was a danger. You don’t make a famous author disappear without repercussions.”

“You know how he is when he gets the bit between his teeth.”

“He’s protecting his own precious ass,” Mr. Brown spat out. “Whatever we do, it had better be done with great care. I don’t plan to be any sacrificial lamb.”

“What we really should be doing is finding those guys who took Latrobe out of Walter Reed right under our noses.” Mr. Green frowned. “That operation was too slick to be carried out by just a bunch of amateurs.”

“Well, if we don’t take care of both problems we won’t be around to spend any of that money we’ve sold our souls for.”

“I think we need to try some alternatives first. It’s not like she’s banging on every door in Washington. And we need to be sure what her real agenda is.”

“So?” Mr. Brown frowned. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s see if we can put a little fear into Miss Wilding and get her out of our hair.”

“Fear? How? What are you thinking of?”

“I’ve got some ideas.” He drained the water glass in front of him. Anything to get rid of the battery acid taste of the coffee.

“And then there’s Latrobe. We’ve got the geek digging for everything he can find on him. Someone planned the little hospital episode slick as a whistle. He’s got a brother nobody knows much about that we need more information on. Who the hell else would even be interested in him?”

Mr. Brown lifted a shoulder. “Beats me. But we won’t get anything done hiding out in greasy spoons.” He rose and dropped some dollar bills on the table. “Come on. We’ll go back to my place, check on the geek’s progress and you can tell me all about your big ideas.”

* * * * *

Faith thanked all the good luck charms in the world that she was able to snag a seat on a plane for San Antonio leaving within the hour. She had to change planes in Dallas but she’d get into SAT about a quarter to six. She went through security and headed for the gate, stopping to pick up a cold drink on the way.

Seated in the waiting area, she pulled out her cell phone and called Tia.

“My plane gets in just before six,” she told her assistant. “Can you still pick me up?”

Tia’s chuckle sounded strained. “Only you would ask me to drive through the rush hour logjam on I10. Sure, I’ll fetch you. I’ll call in the order for our food and we can pick it up on the way to the house.” She paused. “Are you okay? You don’t sound too chipper.”

“I’m fine.”
Liar.
“I’m anxious to see what you dug up for me.”

“Listen, Faith.” Tia began and stopped.

“Yes?” Faith prodded.

“Nothing. I need to wait until you get here and show this to you. Be careful, okay?” Faith disconnected the call, wondering if Tia was just giving her usual travel warning or if she’d actually found something disturbing. The indicator on her phone showed messages, so she clicked to access them. Two from Abigail. She’d have to call her back. One from her mother asking if she’d be around to come for dinner Sunday. A call from Trey Winslow asking if she’d kept her appointment at Fort Bragg and did she get what she needed. And one from a voice so devoid of emotion it sent shivers along her spine.

“This is Eric Latrobe. I can’t imagine what we’d have to discuss or who suggested you call me. However, if you leave another message at Phoenix I’ll get back to you.” No hello or goodbye. Well, a pleasure talking to you too, Mr. Latrobe.

She dialed the now familiar number to the Phoenix answering machine, told him where she was and gave him both numbers again. Her luck he’d call back while she was on the plane and her phone was off.

She was still fuming over her meeting at Fort Bragg. She wished she’d carried a better feeling out of that office with her but all she had was a mixture of anger and dread. She wasn’t a neophyte, oblivious to what went on in the world. She’d heard and read enough about failed missions where no cleanup crew went in because it was deemed to admit the details would be politically embarrassing. How many men had been left behind because of politics?

She wanted to throw up. Yet she sensed the Ryan and Gregorio were as frustrated as she was. The difference was, she wasn’t hampered by rules and restrictions.

Unfortunately she had no idea how to go about a rescue mission. If only she at least had some idea where in Peru Mark was. It was a big country.

Maybe Tia had something in whatever she’d dug up.

Tidbit!

She startled. Mark.

Watch yourself…danger…

Danger. Well, that certainly wasn’t news.

I will.

A long silence, while she strained to receive anything at all. Then…

I love you. Don’t ever…forget

I expect you to tell me in person.

She waited, shutting out everything around her but nothing else came through.

Finally she slumped back in her chair, nauseated and shaking, with a distinct feeling she was running out of time.

* * * * *

“Joey’s awake again.” Troy Arsenault walked out of the bedroom. “I’m going to heat up some soup for him. As soon as I get it into him, Rick, you can talk to him again.”

“I’ll feed him.” Rick rose from the chair where he was sitting, poring over the map of Peru.

“Okay. Just small sips, though. We need to make sure he can eat without barfing it back up.”

It was a long process, made more so by Joey’s anxious need to talk and Rick’s insistence that he eat first. Finally the soup was all gone, Troy had checked Joey’s vitals again and given him a lighter dose of the pain medication, just enough to keep him comfortable but still lucid. They propped him up with pillows, taking care not to jostle his wounds and finally they gathered around, Rick sitting beside him.

“Okay, kid.” His voice was gentle. “Think you’re up to this?”

“I have to be,” he croaked. “You gotta get Mark outta there.”

“No one knew the details of the mission but us,” he began, his voice stronger than before. “You know how it goes, Rick. Once the order comes down, the unit’s in isolation.”

“Which means,” Mike interjected, “the leak had to come from the top, from someone near whoever gave the order.”

Joey nodded. “There’s no one at Fort Bragg who knew enough about it to tell anyone anything.”

“So what happened?” Rick asked.

“We were told the terrorists headquartered near Iquito, because it isn’t easy to get to them. Only by air and water, so they can pretty much set up a wide defense perimeter. They headquarter in the jungle and that’s where the meet was set. Whoever gave us the info also had the coordinates.”

“Who knew the location?” This from Mike.

“Whoever set the mission. Major Gregorio, Colonel Ryan and us.”

“And the people at the top,” Mike reminded him.

“Yeah.” Joey frowned. “You don’t think…”

“Anything is possible, kid. But we’re not jumping to conclusions here.”

“Go on,” Rick urged him. Joey’s agitation was obvious. Getting him back on track would help him pull himself together.

“The insertion was smooth as glass. We went all the way by helicopter. Took a little longer but we didn’t have to expose ourselves changing vehicles. The helo took us to the insertion point, about two miles from the target area.” He looked around at the faces watching him. “I think we weren’t too far from the Amazon, either. The jungle comes right down to the river.”

He went on to tell them how they’d stealthily made their way to the spot, sure they were undetected. Joey had climbed up and positioned himself in the tree and as the others crept forward, the tangos had opened fire, cutting them down. He was sure they didn’t kill Mark because they wanted to get information from him.

“It was a massacre. And then, when those animals burned up the bodies…” He couldn’t help the tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay, kid.” Rick squeezed his arm. “We’ll do what we have to.”

“I think whoever is calling the shots wanted to get rid of all of us,” Joey told him.

Rick’s face tightened. “What do you mean?”

“I kind of drifted in and out the last couple of days at the hospital. I had a funny feeling I’d be better off if no one knew I was awake.” He reached for the water glass.

“Anyway, these two guys came into my room the day before you got me out. They talked about moving me someplace and finding out what I knew.”

“Gregorio anticipated as much,” Rick said, his fists clenching. “That’s why he called me.”

“I think it’s time for you to pay the major a visit,” Dan told him. “See if they’re going to do anything about getting Mark out.”

“If they can’t move because they’re handcuffed politically, we’ll have to do it ourselves, you know.”

“A done deal,” Dan agreed. “Go make your arrangements.”

They all looked at each other as Rick walked out of the room, each of them mentally gearing up for what they knew was ahead of them.

* * * * *

Mark wasn’t sure if he’d dozed or simply fell into unconsciousness. The sun had been broiling overhead when he closed his eyes, the heat settling in the tent like a suffocating blanket. Not even a whisper of a breeze stirred the jungle trees. The heat still enveloped him but through the tent flap he could see darkness outside and hear the now familiar songs of the night birds.

His skin felt hot to the touch and he wasn’t sure if it was from the tropical sun or a fever raging through his body. Sweat had mingled with the dirt on his skin forming a layer of mud. He tried to clean his wounds with a little of the water they brought him each day but he didn’t put much faith in his efforts. He wasn’t even sure how safe the water was but letting more dust pile up in the open cuts or his body becoming totally dehydrated was a more unpleasant prospect. Maybe the easiest thing to do was just give in to it and die.

No! Get it together, Halloran. You’ve never given up before. Don’t start now. You finally
got your head out of your butt enough to realize you love Tidbit and even sent her a message.

Are you going to wimp out now and let these bastards kill you before you can tell her in person?

Memories of their unbelievable weekend washed over him. The feel of her lush body, the silken smoothness of her skin. Her muscles clenching around him like a hot, wet glove, pulling him deeper into her. Pulling him home.

Home. Shit, he’d certainly taken long enough to understand that’s where it was.

With her. Talk about having a thick skull. Maybe the whacks he’d taken on the head here had knocked some sense into him.

Right at the moment he’d give everything he owned to be with her, the love of his life. In a bedroom with soft light spilling over them and clean sheets beneath them. To taste her mouth that was sweet as honey and inhale her fragrance.

He closed his eyes again and she was there, her body close to his. This time she was on her knees beside him, her back delicately curved as she bent over him. Slim fingers wrapped themselves around his throbbing cock.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, as her tongue darted out to lick the drop of pre-cum from the slit at the top of the ultra-sensitive head.

She did it again. And again, her tongue like a wet flame brushing over him, igniting nerves he didn’t even know he had. When she dipped the tip of her tongue into the slit his cock jerked in her hand.

“Suck me,” he growled in a low voice.

Obediently she opened her mouth and slowly took his shaft inside. The thick, ropy vein pulsed against her tongue, every drop of blood in his body shooting straight to that spot.

She set up the familiar motion, the one that took him to heaven and back. Except that when she did this, heaven was a raging inferno, consuming him. The silken wash of her liquid bathed him, the sensation making his hips jerk upward, his cock riding deeper into her mouth.

She slid her mouth from the head to the root, pausing before moving upward again, the movement so slow and deliberate it was exquisite torture. She did it again, this time slipping one small hand between his thighs to roll his balls with her fingers.