by Tawny Weber
He sighed. "I walked away from the best family a man could ever have to search for a ghost."
"It's not unusual for adopted children to want to know about their biological parents."
He shook his head. "It's not that. It's that I went looking for something I didn't know I already had. And by the time I figured it out, it was too late."
This time he didn't stop her when she approached him.
She closed her hand over his forearm, the kind of connection he no longer deserved, but there all the same. "It's not too late, Jake. It's never too late."
He snorted. "I've lived most of my adult life in a world where a man carries weapons strapped to every conceivable part of his body, a world where a man lives on the alert day and night."
"That life is in the past."
He snorted again. "That's the life I live now."
"Only when you go on missions, Jake. Things aren't that tense at the compound."
"I'm empty, Bliss."
Her fingers tightened on his arm. "You're anything but empty."
"I'm not fit to live in the civilized world."
"Your friend Celestina didn't seem to have any problem greeting you, and she's a civilized lady. What we're doing now, talking, this is the real world."
He shook his head. "Look around you, Bliss. This world is full of danger. In this real world, I carry a gun. You carry a gun."
"Yes, but there's more here than guns and murder. You have friends. You help people. You have the humanity to cross between your dark world and the one you think you lost—the one in which your family lives."
He shook his head. "There's a hole in me that can't be filled."
"A hole is different than being empty. A hole is just a space that's been cut into the fabric of who you are." She traced a circle on his chest with her fingertip. "Everything you are is still there. Son. Brother. Uncle. Friend. Your family and their love surround that hole—you. Let them help you close that chasm. Let them help you crowd out the pain and regret. Let them help you fill that hole with the love you need…want."
Damn. What had he done, telling her his story—confessing his fears? He hadn't meant to reveal so much. And now she'd seen too far behind the wall and it scared him.
His go-to place to take the offensive, he shook off her hand and pushed past her into the room—away from her. "You can't know what I want."
"I saw everything you wanted in that picture of you and your niece—saw it when you looked at your nieces' and nephew's photos," she said, following him—as always crowding him.
Her words hit him like punches in the gut again and again. He moved past the bed, trying to escape this woman who saw all in a snapshot.
He turned between the bed and sofa, faced her. "I don't deserve what my siblings have."
"The hell you don't."
He shook his head. "I've turned myself into a weapon, Bliss. You don't know the things I've done."
"That you're haunted by what your job as a SEAL required of you means you're a man still capable of feelings," she said, her voice quiet, calm. "That makes you human, Jake."
His head ached. He wanted to believe it was from lack of sleep, but he knew better. Bliss and her penchant for fixing things. It was her nature. But could she fix him?
Exhaustion had caught up to Jake after their talk and he'd slept the sleep of the dead…until his cell buzzed. Squinting through the bright sunlight blanketing the bed, Jake answered with an abrupt, "What?"
"Hey sleepyhead, it's mid-morning," Ash said. "You're missing all the fun."
"What's happening?" Jake snapped, stepping into the boots Bliss positioned beside the bed for him, noticing she was fully dressed as was he…except for his boots. Did that mean they hadn't slept together? His mind was too muddled for him to remember.
"We're getting the feeds from the cameras at the mine entrances," Asher said.
Without lacing up his boots, without exploring what might have happened between him and Bliss, he charged into the neighboring room. "Did we get good shots?"
"A-one."
"Anybody recognize any of these guys?" he asked, peering over the shoulder of a Team Two member at his computer screen.
"We're running them through facial recognition software," said the team member seated at the small table, now crowded with laptops and analysts.
"Rob, did you look at them?"
"Yeah," he said, glancing up from Bliss' laptop. "I don't recognize any of them."
Bliss handed Jake a cup of coffee. He took a scalding swallow, ran a hand through his hair, and paced.
"Got a hit," one of his team said, calling out a name.
Jake read over the man's shoulder. "Major stock holder in a silver mine."
"Rob, search for whatever you can find on this guy."
"I got one," Trigger, one of the reinforcements, called out.
Jake leaned over Trig's shoulder to read the name and condensed bio accompanying it. "Real Estate Agent?"
Bliss held up a tablet. "I'll search for info on him."
A few more IDed and Jake shook his head. "I expected names in politics, more high profile names."
"Being on the boards of half a dozen major companies is pretty important," Bliss said of her real estate agent.
Jake took the pad she held out to him and scanned the information. He shook his head. "I thought the link between them would be the Judge's candidacy for Supreme Court Judge."
"It could still be," she said.
"If only the surveillance inside the mine could transmit," he grumbled. "I need to hear what they're saying."
"They're most likely questioning where the missing man who called the meeting is," Ash said. "I wouldn't like to be number twelve. He's going to have some explaining to do when they catch up to him."
Ash's cell beeped. He answered, listened and flicked it off. "The bad guys are out of the mine and our team is headed in for the cameras."
"That wasn't a very long meeting," Jake said.
"Long enough for them to figure out they've been set up," Bliss said.
It was an hour before Fitch, who'd headed the team at the mine, delivered the chips from the surveillance cameras inside the mine. The team manning the computers popped the memory cards into their SD ports, plugged in their ear buds, and went to work screening the videos, all but one card. Jake had taken that one himself.
He fast forwarded to the point where the ten accounted for had convened in the chamber, the eleventh having not yet arrived. He'd chosen a camera angle that took in the backs of those seated and the dais. He already knew what these ten looked like. He wanted to hear what they had to say, aside from complaining about getting too old to make the climb to the chamber and it being too damp for aging bones. That the dais remained unoccupied meant the leader was either the member whose identity they'd used to call the meeting or Judge Pena, providing Pena's hadn't been the account they'd hacked. He'd know as soon as number eleven arrived.
The heads in the video turned toward the end of the chamber—toward the crevice with its hidden stairway, but who appeared there wasn't the judge.
"Jesus." The exclamation escaped Jake on a surprised breath.
"What?" Bliss and Ash asked simultaneously, Ash first to his shoulder, Bliss with tablet in hand, second.
"It's Renata Gutierrez Pena, Judge Pena's wife," Jake said. "Anyone not covering this surveillance material research her. I want to know everything there is to know about that woman."
"Her family has owned silver mines throughout Guanajuato for generations," Rob said.
"And they always held positions of power on various boards or in politics," Asher said.
"Her grandfather was a Supreme Court Justice," Bliss supplied. "He nominated Pena for federal judge."
"Before which Pena was pretty much a ghost," Jake said. "What's the timeline between the meeting of The Twelve and Pena's career advances."
"We don't have anything firm, but the evidence suggests a link. For the short term, I suggest w
e figure out who The Twelve are and link them. We've already found one major player." Ash pulled up a name of a man who'd been in the mine tonight. "This one is a senator and he's close to the president."
"Who will make the appointment for the next Supreme Court Judge, an ever shortening list Pena's on," Jake said.
Ash grunted. "And, with its independence, the Supreme Court can invoke the writ of amparo, even against a president."
"And amparo is?" Bliss asked.
"To put it simply," Jake responded, "the Court can rule any public official in violation of a law."
"That's a lot of power," Bliss said, concern puckering her brow.
"You can bet they aren't maneuvering to fill only a Supreme Court seat," Jake said.
"And they think Rob is on to them." She shook her head. "No wonder they're still after him."
"And anyone they think he's shared his knowledge with," Jake added, meeting her gaze.
"But he didn't know anything before we dug into this thing," Bliss said.
Jake badly wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her. But he had to maintain his distance, especially now that he had more to lose than he ever had in his life.
A heavy sigh escaped him. "We know that. They don't."
"At least they still think Rob is in Guatamala, right?" she asked.
Jake winced. Much as he wanted to protect Bliss, she deserved the truth.
"They're questioning that," he said. "They know they've been infiltrated. By now, someone's talked to the missing member and confirmed he had nothing to do with setting up the meeting."
"But they still don't know Rob's in the city, that he's had anything to do with the setup, right?" she asked, the alarm level of her voice rising.
"They know Saint Security came to that warehouse looking for Rob," Asher said. "It's only a matter of time before they track us to this hotel."
Rob heaved out a heavy breath. "This mess I got you guys into just keeps getting worse. I'm sorry, Jake."
Jake shook his head. "What we need to focus on is that they know they've been found out and they're coming for us. We have to move."
"Pack up the equipment," Ash ordered. "Second Team move out."
"And the five of us?" Bliss asked.
"They'll have spies everywhere," Jake said, running options through his mind. "They'll track us wherever we go."
"If we stay, all we'll be fighting are their muscle and they'll keep sending muscle." Ash stepped so close to Jake their shoulders touched, his voice lowered. "We can't protect the package forever from here."
"Does the package have a say in this?" Bliss asked.
Jake looked into Bliss' worried eyes. She wasn't as unfazed as she sounded.
"We're going to have to smuggle you and Rob out of here."
Chapter 13
Bliss examined herself in the mirror above the bathroom sink in hers and Jake's room. When Jake had said she and Rob would have to be smuggled out of the hotel, she hadn't expected it would involve Dia de los Muertos makeup.
But it made sense. Day of the Dead festivities had filled the streets below all day. Street vendors hawking their wares, mariachi bands strolling under their windows, parades of costumed people passing by. Her costuming would make her fit in.
"It's strangely beautiful," she said of her iconic skull makeup, lightly touching lips that appeared stitched together.
"I use the best makeup on the Señorita," the daughter of the taco vendor said. "None of the cheap stuff I put on the touristas who want to play the part for an evening of drinking."
"I'll only need the disguise to get me from here to wherever Jake is hiding me and my brother."
"But you must be well disguised. Unrecognizable, Señor Jake said."
And that she was. Even Bliss felt like she was looking at a stranger. Only her green eyes gave her away, and even then she had to look hard to get past the green-tinted black ovals outlined with white-dotted red lines to see herself.
Maria brushed her hair down over her ears, added large, dangling earrings the same gaudy gold as the plastic beads strung around her neck and pinned three deep yellow mums to one side of her head. Stepping back, the young woman surveyed her work and smiled. "You could almost pass as a native. Almost. You want to try the brown contacts again?"
Bliss shook her head. They'd made her eyes water when she'd tried them earlier. Surely no one would notice her eyes given her makeup and costume.
Maria rapped on the hall door, signaling their guard they were ready. Bliss adjusted the peasant blouse on her shoulders, admiring the embroidery work along the neckline and the colorful flower pattern of the bodice one more time.
She stepped out of the bathroom, the gauzy skirt brushing her calves in a way that made her feel feminine, something she hadn't felt in far too long. She twirled between the couch and bed, murmuring, "If the situation wasn't so serious I could really have fun with this."
"Stick with that feeling," a familiar voice said from the doorway. "You're supposed to be a partier having fun."
She stopped, facing the open door—Jake. His eyes scanned up from the skirt settling around her calves, the appreciation melting from his expression when he got to her face.
"I do good?" Maria asked.
"Yeah. Good," he said, looking away, motioning Rob, already in his costume, around him into the room. "Get him made up. Dozer will stay with you until you leave. Ash and I will be waiting in the street."
Noticing the rappelling gear looped around his shoulder as he turned to exit, Bliss called after him. "You're not walking out the lobby door, are you?"
Jake stopped, answered her without looking back. "I want whoever is looking for us to think we're still in these rooms."
"Rob and I could have rappelled down to the street. It's not that hard to do."
"Trust me. It's trickier when you're dropping into a dark alley."
"You have night vision gear. You could guide us."
He sucked a breath, the fabric of his long-sleeve black tee stretching across his back—his blending into the night shirt. "We all have to come out of that alley to get where we're going, and you and your brother can't blend in the same way we can."
He looked over his shoulder, turning his head not quite far enough for her to see into his eyes…or he hers. "Got it?"
"Got it," she confirmed, and he stepped out into the hall, closing the door between them.
Bliss followed Maria through the throng of skeletal painted faces and past vendors whose stands filled sidewalks and courtyards. The hawking of wares, the music of mariachi bands, and boisterous celebrators made her ears ring, and she swallowed hard against the overpowering scents of human sweat, hot peppers, and sugar closing in on her.
Maria grabbed her by the wrist, laughing to cover the seriousness of her words. "You must play the tourist having fun. Come join your brother. He is having fun."
"Isn't this cool," Rob said, pointing out a grotesquely painted sugar skull. "I'm getting one. You want one?"
Bliss shook her head and turned away. The idea of eating a sugar skull turned her stomach. Rob's ice blue eyes with their pinpoint pupils didn't help her feel any better, either. He'd been excited about the contacts. She just saw their deadness. At least now she understood Jake's inability to look at her.
"Maybe the Señorita rather look at the shawls," Maria said, towing her through the milling crowd to the far side of the narrow street.
"Shouldn't we get to the safe house as quickly as possible?" Bliss asked.
"No one moves in a hurry during the Dia de los Muertos celebration. Señor Jake orders that we blend in."
Bliss scanned the crowd behind them, searching out a tall shadow dressed in black. But most of the men wore black tuxedo type jackets and top hats. All the men were dark tonight…and tall.
They skirted a pair of stilt walkers and someone waddling along in a giant Paper-Mache head to get to the booth with the locally woven shawls.
"This one would look good on the Señorita
," Maria said, draping a red and gold shawl over her shoulders.
But Bliss was watching Rob, who meandered along the far side of the street, munching his sugar skull. "Shouldn't we stick together?"
"Señors Jake, Asher, and Dozer are watching," Maria said into her ear as she slipped the shawl off her shoulders and replaced it with another.
"Ah, this one is better yet," Maria announced. "The green brings out the color of your eyes."
"Is that a parade?" Bliss asked of the cluster of costumed people dancing down the center of the street toward them, parting the crowd before them.
"Sí. I get your brother before they separate us," Maria said and sprinted off.
"I'll come with you," Bliss called and started after her, but a hand closed around her arm, stopping Bliss. The woman who'd grabbed her yelled at her in Spanish.
"No hablo español," Bliss said.
The woman flicked at the shawl still draped around Bliss' shoulders.
"Oh sorry," she said, pulling off the shawl and offering it to the woman.
The woman kept shouting at her, no doubt calling her a thief.
"I'm sorry. It was a mistake," Bliss said, unable to think of the Spanish version of her words.
Other vendors gathered around her, all yelling at Bliss. Maria was across the street with Rob. Another minute and the parade would cut her off from them and the masses parting for them would turn into a crushing wall. Bliss dug money from her pocket and shoved it and the shawl into the vendor's hand. The woman released her.
Bliss turned to run across the street, but a wall of brightly colored ruffles and feathers and garishly painted faces pressed in on her, the impromptu parade of partiers pressing back the crowd—separating her from Maria and Rob.
She pushed her way along the sidewalk, seeking the end of the parade so she could cross the street. It was like trying to swim upstream against a current of bright colors as the crowd followed the parade.
A hand clamped down on her upper arm.
Thinking it was the shawl vendor again, Bliss wheeled toward her captor, a string of heated English ready to fly off her tongue. But the hand gripping her arm didn't belong to the vendor.