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Authors: Desiree Holt

BOOK: Jungle Inferno
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“Very well. Faith. Once we’re in the marked area, we’re hoping you can make contact with the captain and maybe get a few more clues as to where he is.”

“I’ll do my best.” She wet her lips.

“Did the call to your aunt help?”

“Let’s hope.”

* * * * *

“Oh, my dear,” Vivi had said. “You are so unprepared for this.”

“I know, Aunt Vivi but I don’t have a choice. I need your help.”

“All right. Let me think a minute.”

Faith waited, curbing her impatience.

“All right, you will need to do more visualizing. It is working for you?”

“So far, until that last episode. I think he tried to build a solid shield between Mark and me.”

“Let’s work on that, then, because this force of evil will try to stop you. Close your eyes and visualize a row of parabolic shields around you. Can you do that?” Faith closed her eyes, lulled by Vivi’s soothing voice.

“Fine. Now, make sure they’re turned away from you, so any energy bounces back to the interloper. Whatever he sends your way will come right back to him.”

“Okay.” She clasped her hands. “Now what?”

“Next. Remember the stone walls we taught you how to build mentally?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Go ahead and build it inside the parabolic reflectors. On the wall is one opening, a narrow pipe hole and you are to imagine Mark right there. Only he will be able to get through that hole.”

“It’s working!” Faith swallowed her surprise.

“Good, good. Now we’ll do one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I will have Emily and Sarah come over and we’ll form a docile energy circle, creating an unbreakable ring and transporting it to you.” Faith’s eyes flew open. “Can you do that?”

“We’re going to try. About what time do you think you’ll be arriving at your destination?”

Faith checked with Dan and passed along the information.

“All right, dear. We’ll set the alarm to be ready.”

“Thank you so much, Aunt Vivi.”

Vivi’s voice dropped slightly. “Don’t be afraid, Faith. The spirits will guide you. I promise. Now start practicing.”

* * * * *

Now she sat in close quarters with four men she hadn’t even seen forty-eight hours ago, heading off to a country she’d never been to, on a mission some might call hopeless, praying as hard as she could that she could do her part and get Mark out safely. She leaned back against the wall of the cabin, a jacket rolled behind her head, closed her eyes and tried to make everything around her a blank.

Establish your boundary-type shields first.

She heard Aunt Vivi’s voice as clearly as if she were sitting next to her. She could visualize her aunt sitting at her kitchen table, fiddling with her teabag, dunking it in a cup of hot water. Her brow would be furrowed in concentration but as she inhaled the light fragrance of the lotus tea, it would smooth out and she’d close her eyes, centering herself. For one fleeting moment Faith wished herself back in that familiar kitchen, embraced by the warmth of Vivi’s presence. Then she pulled up her mental socks. Mark needed her. More than that, Mark loved her, as she loved him, something they’d only now, in this perilous circumstance, admitted to each other. She had to make sure they had a chance to let it blossom and grow.

Faith called up a remembered image of a parabolic reflector and imagined herself lining them up in a circle, convex side outward, so any negative energy directed toward her would rebound to the sender. Next she visualized dark grey bricks floating to the circle and aligning themselves one on top of the other, row after row, until they reached the top of the reflectors.

In her mind she saw herself sitting down in the middle of the impenetrable circle and focusing on one spot as Vivi had said. The place where only Mark could reach her.

In an instant a hole appeared, about the circumference of a household plumbing pipe.

In the shimmering light that drifted through it she saw Mark’s face as she’d last seen it, smiling, affectionate, sexually replete.

Her heart tripped in its rhythm. This just had to work. She wanted a lifetime with him like that fabulous weekend. She would do whatever it took to help these men pull this off. And now, with her shields in place, the tension gripping her body began to ease.

“Faith?” Rick shifted over to sit next to her.

“Yes?”

“Are you all right? You looked a little spacey there for a minute.” She smiled. “I’m fine. Just following my aunt’s instructions and mentally preparing myself.”

“I still wish you hadn’t insisted on coming along,” he grumbled.

“But I did and I’m here.” She studied his face. “Don’t worry about me, Rick. Focus on Mark. I promise you I won’t be a liability.”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile. “No, I don’t think you will. But promise me, if things start to get hairy down there, take cover and don’t do anything foolish.”

“Believe me,” she grinned. “You are looking at one bona fide coward.” He gave her a penetrating look that seemed to see all the way inside her. “No, Faith Wilding, I think you’re wrong. I think you are one very brave, very courageous lady.

Mark Halloran is one lucky bastard.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say.

Mike, who had been talking on his headset, turned in his seat beside the pilot. “I just had a call patched through from the attorney we sent to San Antonio. He’s on site and scoping things out.” His expression was grim. “Sorry to tell you this but your house is a total loss.”

Faith forced back the automatic tears. “Like you said before, all that burned are things. I’m still alive.”

“That’s the most important thing. He’s got someone else on site with him, nosing around, watching for anything that catches his eyes. Whoever did this is sure to come back to the scene of their crime, especially since you haven’t shown up.”

“Thank you for taking care of this,” she told him.

He shrugged. “It’s what we do.”

He turned around in his seat and Rick went back to what he’d been doing since takeoff—checking his guns for perhaps the hundredth time, just as the others had. And in the midst of this unbelievable danger, her life falling apart in shreds around her, she suddenly felt very safe.

* * * * *

“I can’t believe they burned her damn house down.” Gregorio was pacing in his office, a neat trick since the room was barely twelve feet square. “These people are animals.”

Frank Ryan sat on a metal folding chair, holding his third cup of coffee of the day.

“It also speaks to the fact that someone very high up is pulling the strings. No one else would dare take this kind of chance.”

“You’re right.” Gregorio ran his hand over his military haircut. “But who the hell can it be?”

“Sit down and let’s go over this step by step. We’ll list everyone who had any knowledge of the mission and check each one out.”

They started with Rick Latrobe, the source of the tip but crossed him off at once.

Ryan looked at his watch. “I promise you by now Rick and his band of merry men are on their way to Peru to pull off another one of their miracles.” They checked off each and every person who’d had to be contacted as the information made its way up the ladder. No one got a pass. Ryan wasn’t ready to delete anyone else until they had proof positive there was no way they could be involved.

That included office staff too.

Finally Ryan sat back and threw his pencil on the pad he’d been writing on. “Do you still have that computer guy attached to you who can even find out where Santa Claus lives?”

Gregorio couldn’t help but smile. “You mean Sgt. Delray? Yeah, we couldn’t live without him. Why?”

“Get him in here. We’ll want him to dig around in some files that aren’t actually accessible under normal circumstances. And threaten him with assignment to Easter Island if he opens his yap.”

“You realize if some of these people find out you’re digging into their personal business, we could be assigned to Easter Island.”

Ryan’s smile was grim. “Better than letting them get away with it.”

* * * * *

Green and Brown had changed from their suits to casual clothes and now were trying to blend in with the gawkers a standing in front of the ashes of Faith Wilding’s house. The thrill seekers were easy to identify, as were the media and the firemen still spraying hot spots. A man in turnout gear stood to one side, a clipboard in his hand, in heavy conversation with a fortyish man in a dark suit.

“The guy in the gear has got to be the arson investigator,” Brown observed, “but who’s the dude in the suit?”

“A good question,” Green answered. “One we need an answer to.”

“Not that we can just walk up and ask him,” Brown pointed out.

“He acts like he’s in charge of something. Maybe from her insurance company.” They stood there watching, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, avoiding the attention of the media. Something about the man in the suit bothered Green but he couldn’t say just what. Whatever it was gave him an uncomfortable itch.

“He’s leaving,” Brown pointed out. “I got his picture with my phone as well as his license plate. Should we go talk to the investigator?”

Green gave him a pitying look. “And say what? Who’s that man you were talking to? I’d guess they’re looking for anything or anyone suspicious right now and we sure don’t want it to be us.” He speed dialed a number on his phone, spoke briefly to the person who answered and sent the photos he’d taken. “They’ll get right back to us.

Meanwhile try not to attract attention.”

The sun just beginning to fade didn’t give them too many shadows to blend into but the cars parked along the street gave them some protection. Green’s cell phone rang five minutes later. The conversation was brief and when he hung up his face was white.

“What?” Brown asked.

“His name is Roger Addison. He’s an attorney.”

“So?” Brown chuckled. “Are you afraid he’ll sue you?”

“Listen to me, you asshole. There’s no information about him on the web. Our boss had to do some fancy hacking to find out about him. He’s related to Dan Romeo.”

“And he is?”

“The head of Phoenix. And all the information stops there.” Brown began to sweat. “Digger said he was afraid Faith was with them. You know what that means?”

“It means Phoenix has probably gone after Halloran and plans to finish the job his unit started.”

“That’s right. It also means we need to get the hell out of here and back to DC. The roof’s about to fall in.”

* * * * *

“Are you calling Peru?” Winslow asked. He’d switched to brandy, hoping to settle his stomach. Hoping he wouldn’t throw up or pass out as he absorbed Digger’s news.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You need to warn them?”

“And then what, you idiot?” Digger was practically shouting. “Let him know how badly we’ve fucked up? Do you have a death wish?”

“Phoenix will wipe them up,” Winslow whispered. “All of them.”

“You’d better hope so. Otherwise they’ll be coming after us.” Winslow took a healthy swallow of the brandy. “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know about you but I’m going to make damn sure my tracks are covered and plead ignorance of anything that comes up.”

“But what if they find out… I mean, the money…”

“It would take an unusual forensic accountant to track my money. I hope you’re set up the same way. Go through your personal papers and make sure you haven’t left any tracks. Oh and Winslow?”

“Yes?” The sound was like a death rattle.

“I wouldn’t plan on running for office again, if I were you. Just in case.”
Chapter Seventeen

They landed to refuel in Panama with the world still in darkness. Faith took advantage of the opportunity for a potty break and a chance to wash her face and hands. She grimaced at her image in the mirror.

Her face was deathly pale, her hair looked like a rat’s nest tied up in a rubber band and dark bruises lay beneath eyes that had a haunted look. Somehow the men had managed to find camo clothing that didn’t fit too badly and two pairs of thick socks took care of the space in the boots. She was very conscious of the Glock in the belt around her waist and the four clips in the pouch.

“All set for the cover of
Vogue
,” she whispered to herself.

Out on the tarmac the men were standing next to the chopper, Dan in conversation with the man who’d greeted them on landing.

Rick spotted her as she walked up to them. “All set?”

She nodded, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep them from shaking.

“Okay. We’re on the last leg here.” He reached into the chopper and took out what looked like a thin wire loop that he slipped over her head with an extension he pressed to the hollow of her throat. “This is how you’ll communicate. Don’t say a word unless we tell you to. Every time Dan asks you to check in, tap this,” he touched the piece at her throat, “five times. That’s your number. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Okay. It will be light when we land, unfortunately, so we won’t need the night vision goggles.” He studied her face. “Ed will hover when we get to the insertion point and you’ll have five seconds to jump to the ground. Remember to bend your knees.”

“Okay.” She tried to ignore the flip-flops in her stomach.

“Last thing. We’ve pinpointed the place pretty close to where we think the camp is but we’ll need you to reach out to Mark and see if he can give us any clues. Can you do that?”

“I can do whatever I have to.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Good girl. When we land, you stick close to me until I tell you to hide yourself.”

“Let’s go, folks.” Dan motioned to them with his hand.

In less than a minute they were lifting off again, heading away from the rising sun, stars still dotting the fading night sky around them.

I’m almost there, Mark. Please hang on just a little longer.

* * * * *

“I can only stay a few hours,” the Wolf said, lighting a cigarillo. His chopper had landed five minutes ago and was waiting in the clearing off to the side. “I have other business that demands my attention. Either get this taken care of or we’re done.” Escobedo’s smile was nasty. “I know you, greedy bastard that you are. You won’t walk away from the money you get from us.”

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