Under Fire (18 page)

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Authors: Rita Henuber

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Fiction

BOOK: Under Fire
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“Good. Now that our business is completed we can get to
our
pleasure.” He squeezed her shoulder and Olivia deliberately tensed.

“Alvaro, I take my pleasure quite seriously and don’t like being pushed. If you and I are to…become friends, it will be when and how I decide.”

He removed his hand and she turned.

“In my opinion we still have a great deal of business to conduct. I need to know when, where and how this inventory will be delivered. I also have questions about security.”

Silva took her hands, pulling her up. “Not here. In my office. I have questions also.”

Questions?
She didn’t like the sound of that.

On the main floor he guided her to a perfectly appointed office. A space he’d bypassed on his tour. Large French doors opened to the pool and patio area. A breeze off the water cooled the room. She needed it. She was sweating. He directed her to sit, but she stood, admiring the view. May as well get to it.

“What questions do you have for me?”

“Before I can complete the transaction I must speak with your employer,” he said, sinking into his leather desk chair.

The words fell on her like a brick wall. She struggled to keep concern out of her body language.

“I had my man retrieve your cell.”

She didn’t turn, didn’t speak. Was this it?

“Olivia?”

“I…” She looked at the expanse of the lawn, the Biscayne Bay beyond. Could she make an escape? “I…” She took one last furtive look at the water and faced him. “I can’t. I won’t call. I’m not here at my uncle’s request. Yes, he is my employer but he thinks I’m in Seattle visiting a friend.”

Silva leaned back and the chair creaked.

“Then why are you here?” His voice had a harsh, cold edge. He opened the top right desk drawer.

Olivia was sure it contained a gun. She dropped onto a chair, perching on the edge. Clasping and unclasping her hands she began reciting the story she and Rico had practiced for hours. “My uncle has no children of his own. He has two nephews, brothers, and me, their cousin. His business will be left to one of us to run. I want it.

“While I was sent off to college my two moronic, knuckle-dragging cousins stayed home to learn the business.” She leaned toward him. “Alvaro, you and I both know we cannot run a business the same way it was done twenty years ago.”

His hand went inside the drawer and she stopped breathing. He withdrew a cigar. She exhaled.

“My uncle is—” she cleared her throat and sat as straight as she could, “—old and he resists changes. He won’t even consider my plan to restock. My cousins think the solution to our inventory problem is to take out our competitors. They underestimate the Asians.” She paused to get her breath. Silva watched her intently, his only movement was to inhale deeply from the cigar. At least he was listening and not shooting. “The cousins tell our uncle my idea is weak. They say it’s to be expected from a woman.”

“And what do you think about that?” He released the cigar smoke. It floated above him then drifted toward the open door.

“My plan is much stronger. Why waste manpower and money taking the competition out and then defending ourselves? They’re suffering the same supply and demand problems.”

Silva pursed his lips and rocked slightly, considering all she’d said. His mouth twitched and one corner turned up. She knew she had him.

“In a matter of a few days we won’t be able to fill customers’ orders. I discreetly made inquiries. You were my best chance. You, it seems, have the resources to get the most inventory to us fastest.”

Silva swiveled the chair toward the French doors and the bay beyond. Without looking at her he asked, “Where did the money come from?”

“My personal account. It’s all the cash I could come up with on such short notice. But—” her voice was charged, “—if you need more I could have it in a few days.”
Damn it.
Had she sounded too needy?

“You’ve got some balls, lady,” he said, his fingers steepled in front of his face.

Was he pissed or impressed? She looked away, deciding to remain silent. Hearing the chair creak, she glanced his way. His expression hadn’t changed.

“If your employer is not happy when you present this deal to him, I want you to leave him and come to work for me. I will make sure you have more than a million in your bank account.”

I did it.
She went to the desk, her hand extended. “Please, I want to shake on it.”

Silva leaned across the desk and clasped her hand firmly.

“I meant what I said, Olivia. Your employer doesn’t make you his successor, come to me.”

“Thank you, Alvaro. I will certainly keep your offer in mind.” She smiled politely as he came around the desk. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I have another request.”

“Yes?” She didn’t take her gaze from his.

“The next two nights I am entertaining business associates from the south, here, in my home. I have no companion to stand beside me. Would you honor me?” He brushed his lips over the back of her hand again.

“I’d be delighted. Will there be business conducted?”

He threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “Yes. Don’t worry, you will be included. I can’t wait to introduce you.” He tugged on her hand, encouraging her to stand. He linked his arm through hers, guiding them outside. Olivia came up short.

“What is it?”

“What’s the dress?”

“The men wear dinner jackets and the ladies very expensive gowns.”

She glanced around and made a face. “I brought nothing formal. I’ll have to leave now to shop. Please call your driver to take me to the hotel. Is there a shop you can recommend?” She saw her chance to get out, to let Rico know what happened.

“I’m afraid you won’t have time to go to your hotel. I’ve taken the liberty of having a few things, designer clothes, brought here for you. They should be arriving anytime. Choose what you like. They are yours.”

“But how do you know my size and…” She realized he must have sent people to her room again. Silva laughed easily. Olivia started to say she couldn’t accept, but quickly changed her mind. “I must say it is unexpected. I would be a fool to refuse your most generous gift.” She gave him her best smile. “And have no doubt it will be generous, because my tastes are quite expensive.”

Silva laughed again. “To see your beautiful body draped in a designer gown will make it all worthwhile. The evening will be quite late. I must insist you be my guest for the night. I think you’ll find anything you need here.”

She nodded. “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”
Shit!
Rico would go crazy when she didn’t return. She had no options. Pushing to go back to the hotel would alert Silva. A risk she was unwilling to take when things were going so well.

Soon she would have names—and faces to put them with. Tonight she could discover who Baker was.

Chapter Nineteen

Olivia floated down the stairs in a Versace gown and shoes. Silva waited at the bottom, looking very aristocratic in a white dinner jacket and black bow tie.

“Are you pleased?” she asked, reaching the last step. He looked her up and down then frowned.

“What’s wrong? Should I change?” The white satin dress fit perfectly. Hugged her body and flowed fluidly around her legs. It reminded her of a dress she’d seen Katharine Hepburn wear in an old movie.

“There is something missing,” he said, handing her a black velvet box.

No choice, she had to accept whatever was inside with great delight. She fumbled opening it and he took over the job. “Dear God,” she breathed, when the contents were revealed.

Silva smiled, apparently pleased with her reaction. Inside the box were diamond stud earrings and an inch wide diamond bracelet.

“I—I’ll wear these as a loan, for tonight only,” she stammered.

“Good. Tomorrow I can surprise you again.”

“Alvaro, it isn’t appropriate,” she said, serious. “I’m not used to this kind of luxury.”

“You would have all of this and more. Agree to work for me,” he said, as he fastened the bracelet on her left wrist.

“I told you I would think about your offer.”

“Put the earrings on, Olivia. My guests are waiting.”

Olivia was surprised and satisfied at how well she handled Silva’s business associates. During cocktails and dinner she easily engaged in conversation with the men and their companions. What happened after dinner would tell her how well she’d done.

Silva stood with his arm around her waist, anchoring them together. The conversation transitioned from golf, boating and fishing to business. Mendoza appeared and led the women to the terrace. Olivia made no move to join them, earning hard looks from some of the men.

“This way, gentlemen,” Silva said, and led them to the living room. He held Olivia’s hand, bringing her with him. She’d done it. She was in.

“I am entering into a business venture with Olivia,” he began, “if I get my way.” He glanced at her as if to say
“and I always get my way.”
“She will be working with us soon.”

Expecting protests, she was surprised when none came. She scanned the men’s faces. They were leery…and something else. They were afraid. Afraid to cross Silva.

“Let’s get down to business.” His voice snapped her to attention.

She listened intently as each man gave a report on his part of the organization. Each reported huge increases in production and profits. Each bitterly reported the same problem: the United States government.

“We must find a way to get around the Coast Guard,” a man named Alejandro sputtered. “Twice in the last month my boats have been turned back by the patrols.”

Olivia sipped her bourbon to hide a smile.

“Last month my tanker was boarded and searched three hours after we transferred the cargo to other vessels. They came too close, Alvaro. We have to find a way to stop them.”

“Yes,” another man added. “I think it’s time we start blowing them out of the water.”

“Are you sampling your own goods?” she blurted. The room went silent and all eyes turned to her.
Shit!
She’d stepped into it now.

“Do
you
have a suggestion, Olivia?” Silva asked.

“Not exactly.” She paused and looked at each of the men. “I do know if you begin firing on U.S. vessels you’ve declared war. You would give every politician up for reelection a platform cause. The media would love to sink their teeth into a story like that. Can’t you just see it? Reporters imbedded with Coast Guard cutters filming attacks by drug smugglers.”

She was getting into this. “You think the CIA and U.S. military have too much freedom in your countries now. See what happens if
you
attack
them
. Spy satellites will be parked permanently over your homes. Every time you crap a CIA agent will hand you the toilet paper.”

No one in the room moved. Had she gone too far? She looked at Silva. He was watching her intently. She could see he wasn’t going to help her climb out of the hole she’d just put herself in.

“Alvaro, you asked if I have a suggestion. I do. I think it’s the only solution. It’s simple. You have to be smarter.”

“Don’t you think we know that?” Alejandro asked.

“Have you asked yourselves how they stay ahead of you?” she shot back. No one ventured an answer.

“Modern technology.” She saw some nods around the room. “Your business plan should be the same as any company. Stay a step ahead of the competition and two steps ahead of the government.”

“How do you propose we do that?” a sarcastic voice asked.

“Yes, Olivia, please tell us.” Was Silva jumping her ship? Going to the other side?

“Hire a geek. Hire a hundred geeks. You can afford it.” Blank stares greeted her suggestion.

“For God’s sake, hire a technology expert. To some degree you all have one. What I’m talking about is one who lives, breathes and fucks computers. There are seventeen-year-old kids out there who hack into banking and government systems for fun.

“Find them. Hire them to hack government systems to find what the next piece of equipment to make your life miserable is. Then build a counter measure. Shit, they’d probably work for lollypops and frequent access to women. When they outlive their usefulness—” she shrugged, “—dispose of them.”

Olivia took a long pull from her bourbon, peering at the men over the edge of her glass. Had she gone too far? She took a big breath and released it slowly.

“I apologize. I rarely get to express my thoughts and when I do I get carried away.” She shrugged again.

Silva broke the silence. “Not at all, Olivia, what you’ve said is interesting and food for thought. I’ll have someone look into this and we can discuss it next time we meet.”

Her eyes went wide. “Meet again?” Would he want her there?

“Yes, tomorrow night we will meet here again. In the day,
we
have other business.”

We?
Did he mean the group or her? Before she could find her voice, the women rejoined them and the men began their good nights, thanking Silva for the evening.

Olivia stood with him, watching the taillights of the last departing guest disappear down the drive. She was uncomfortable, mentally and physically. Her feet hurt like hell. Five-inch stilettos—no matter how beautiful—were painful after a few hours. She undid the straps and slid the shoes off. When she straightened, Silva’s face was inches from hers. She nailed him with her best back-off look and he laughed.

“Relax, Olivia. I respect your wish. You are safe—at least for tonight.” He took her arm, guiding her inside. “Besides, I have more business to attend to.” It was then she noticed a car left in the circle. One of his associates was still here.

Silva escorted her to her suite, and she gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for a beautiful evening and for having patience with me.”

“You are most welcome.” He smiled and bowed his head. How could a man so mannered and charming be guilty of so many horrible crimes? She stepped inside and Silva closed the door behind her. A chill ran through her as the lock snicked. She was a prisoner, no doubt about it. An unfamiliar feeling came over her. Panic.
Get a grip, Olivia.
Silva was a cautious man. His
not
locking the door would be more worrisome. She stood for a moment, shaking her arms vigorously to relieve the tension. In her absence the bed had been turned down and a silk sleep set, shirt and shorts, laid out. She shrugged out of the dress, leaving it in on the floor where it fell, and began going over the events of the evening. The earrings and bracelet were tossed on the night table as she memorized names, locations of businesses and operation.

Buttoning the last button on the silk shirt, she heard loud voices someplace in the house. Quickly she padded to the door and pressed her ear to the wood. Two men. One was Silva. While she couldn’t make out the words she could tell they were angry. Olivia was sure they were in a room on the same side of the house as her bedroom, maybe even in the room directly below. Killing the lights, she rushed to a window, raising it a few inches. Definitely in the room below. Both men were shouting.

She opened the window far enough to look. No guards. Carefully she slid out of view. The men hidden around the property more than likely were equipped with NVGs and the warmth her body gave off would be instantly picked up. She couldn’t risk sticking her head out again.

Silva and the man—she was sure he was one of the guests, Umberto—were speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. Rage filled Umberto’s voice and Olivia heard “informant” then “
espía.
” Informant and spy. Her blood ran frigid when he yelled her name. The man was accusing her of being an
espía.
How could he possibly know?

Silva’s voice rose and he cursed. A gunshot cut through the night. Instinctively, she plastered herself to the wall below the window. Three more shots echoed out across the lawn.

Heavy footfalls of a man on the driveway and a softer sound of running over the grass were drowned out by a woman’s terrified scream. Two more shots pierced the silence. Then nothing. Huddled below the window she strained to hear any conversations. Silva’s calm voice drifted in and out. She heard “dispose” and “secure.” Damn it!
Security
. She looked at the window. It had been a huge mistake to open it.

Though Silva had assured her there was no video surveillance in her suite, she was sure the open window—and the time it was opened—would register on some screen. It would only be a matter of time before he came to learn what she’d heard.

She crawled into the bathroom and searched a drawer. Earlier, while looking for toiletries, she’d seen containers of aspirin, ibuprofen and sleeping pills. Using the faint night light she read labels until she had the sleeping pills. Her hands trembled and she had trouble opening the damn child proof cap. She dropped two into the sink, ran the water and drank from the faucet.
Fuck!
Opening that window had been stupid. In the morning she’d have some explaining to do. Olivia left the container on the marble counter and crawled to the bed. Curled under the sheets, she listened to muffled voices and the comings and goings of the men outside.

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