Cold Day In Hell

by Jerrie Alexander

  "She's got her life mapped out, and I'm not on it. Hell, after we're gone, she's liable to be an important government official someday. A life in the public eye doesn't exactly mesh with my line of work."

  Marcus grunted something unintelligible. He popped the trunk, hauled out the duffle bag, and passed it to Ty. "We've got a busy day tomorrow. Are you ready?"

  "I'm good," Ty answered.

  "You'd better be."

  "Let's look over the weapons out here," Ty said, setting the bag on the porch. He understood his friend's concern and appreciated him not lecturing.

  Trust had nothing to do with them inspecting the equipment. He believed when it came to weapons that you check them out thoroughly yourself.

  They worked in silence for a while, separating as they went. The AK-47 reminded him of the ones Ortega's guards carried. They were low cost, easy to operate, and easy to obtain. He handed Marcus the newer-model Belgian FN FAL after seeing his lustful grin.

  "Thanks." Marcus took the rifle and clips.

  Ty stood, glancing at their surroundings. "We need to be outside Ortega's house by four in the morning." The thick trees, heavy foliage, and still air reminded him of being deep in the jungle. "Jack and Ana can work out a plan to visit the hospital or get her to her uncle's house. She's smart, she'll hang onto Jack. His badge will open doors for her."

  Marcus inspected his share of the weapons. "It's almost dark. Want me to take the first watch?"

  "No. I'll stay out here. Get an hour or so of rest, and then I'll come get you."

  Ty's cell buzzed, stopping Marcus before he'd made it inside. Nate's message was what Ty had expected. The FBI was digging into everybody's backgrounds, including his, in an effort to identify the mole, if in fact there was one.

  "Bullshit. There's no 'if.' Marcus and I waltzed in and out of Ortega's backyard as if we'd been invited."

  "I hear you," Nate agreed. "What we can't figure out here is why. It's your call. If you think it's best to put this op on hold, do it."

  "No. This has already taken too long. We end it tomorrow."

  "I'll follow up with Jack. He'll ensure the pilot waits twenty-four hours in case you can't go straight to the airstrip. Call me when you get on the plane."

  "Sure thing, Daddy." Ty disconnected before Nate responded.

  Marcus grinned. "Should've told him to have a pizza waiting on me, cold would be fine."

  "He'll be at the airstrip when we land in Texas."

  "Aww, he's worried about us." Marcus snorted a laugh.

  "Will you tell them inside that we'll need a ride at four in the morning?"

  "You got it."

  Marcus disappeared inside the house, closing the door behind him. Ty considered calling Nate back and delivering the food request. Back in college, the big Italian had lived on pizzas. Some things never changed.

  Darkness swallowed the safe house. With its blacked-out windows, the place was virtually invisible. Using the stillness of the night, Ty turned into himself. He went to that place where no one and nothing mattered. His focus sharpened, concentration deepened, and compassion vanished.

  Chapter Twenty

  The thud of Ty's boot heel landing on the pavement rang like a death knell, shooting Ana's already rapid heartbeat to supersonic. An icy vice clamped around her heart and tightened. Breathing became difficult. Panic gripped her vocal cords, rendering her speechless.

  She'd instructed him not to say goodbye. Now she wanted nothing more than a tender look from him, something for her to hold onto late at night when he crept into her thoughts.

  But what was there to say, really? Be safe? Good luck? Come back to me?

  Surely, it was better to say nothing.

  He slid on his backpack and glanced over his shoulder. How many times had he done the exact thing when he'd led her through the jungle? His dark eyes would assess her condition, her well-being, before he'd press forward.

  Except this time, he wasn't checking on her. In fact, he hadn't looked her direction since he'd slid into the backseat of the car. She recognized the zone he'd slipped into, having been exposed to it when he'd rescued her.

  Marcus nodded in response to Ty's raised eyebrows. Together they moved to the shoulder of the road. She understood he wasn't exacting justice on her behalf. His mission was for his government and hers. Nevertheless, the commitment she'd made twenty years ago and failed to keep was in his hands.

  She clutched the seat belt, using every drop of restraint she could muster to not unbuckle and run after him. Clamping her teeth down on her lip was the only thing stopping her from crying out his name.

  Jack dropped the car into gear. Panic burned inside her lungs, scalded her throat. She whirled to face him.

  "Wait," she demanded, her mind shooting off in a dozen directions. "How will they get to Ortega's house? They can't walk. It's too far."

  "They didn't say, but I'm sure they have a plan." The car moved forward then slowed. "It's too early to go to the hospital. Let's find somewhere to have coffee."

  Without waiting for a response, Jack made a U-turn and headed away from Ty. Had she seen him for the last time? How would she know he'd made it home safely?

  "Will you at least let me know when Ty and Marcus get to America?" She couldn't spend the rest of her life not knowing if he was all right.

  "Oh, you'll be kept up to date on them both," Jack assured her with a chuckle.

  She found it odd that he'd laugh at her concern, but she didn't have the strength to challenge him. She turned her face away and allowed the hot tears she'd held back to burn trails down her cheeks. Her thoughts were on Ty and the time they'd spent in the jungle. Back then, all she'd wanted was to get out of the unrelenting heat. Today she'd give anything for a few days with him tucked away in that cave.

  She'd secretly wondered if she could give up her goals for a chance at permanence in their relationship, but there was still so much left to do here at home. Still, she regretted not at least confessing what was in her heart. Now she'd waited until it was too late. How would she ever move on?

  Maybe seeing her parents would help her refocus on something besides her own unhappiness. She couldn't wait to get to the hospital and check on their conditions. Ana glanced at her watch.

  An hour had passed while she had daydreamed. Finding a place for coffee should have taken no more than ten minutes. She cleared her mind and scanned the countryside.

  "Where are we?" The barrel of a gun pressed into her ribs. "What's going on?"

  "You won't be meeting your uncle today." His friendly manner was gone, replaced by a cold, harsh sneer. "Using two fingers, put that pistol you're carrying on the seat between us."

  "You're the mole?" Ana's heart jumped to her throat. "You bastard, we trusted you."

  "Put the gun on the seat." His voice rose, and he shoved the barrel deeper into her side. "Don't make me shoot you. My boss wants you delivered alive."

  Ana did as instructed. He released the steering wheel, grabbed her gun, and dropped it in the back floorboard. A foreboding like she'd never experienced washed over her. She found it difficult to breathe. Rage and hate filled every fiber of her being.

  "Traidor! You betrayed your compatriots and set this whole thing up. Ty and Marcus are walking into a trap."

  Jack laughed. He put his gun on the dash, dug out a small vial from his pocket, and snorted from it. Her stomach rolled over. How had he managed to hide his habit from everybody?

  "By now the trap has sprung. They're on their way to a special place. You'll see them soon enough."

  "Why didn't you kill me? You had plenty of chances."

  "I wanted to. The boss wanted you two together in one place. He has big plans."

  "Think about what you're doing. Aligning yourself with Ortega is wrong."

  "How do you figure? Everything that has happened is your fault. You're responsible for Ty getting shot. The villagers? Your fault. Your parents wouldn't be in the hospital if it weren't for you."


  "Damn you to hell," she blurted out the words. "You're insane."

  The explosion in her head caught her off guard. A blow to her jaw ripped through her. The bitter, iron taste of blood flooded her mouth, coating her tongue. For a moment, her vision faded, and she feared she'd pass out. Fighting to stay conscious, she tested to see if he'd broken her jaw.

  "How could you work for a monster like Manuel Ortega?"

  "Watch your mouth. Manny and I, we go all the way back to college. Did you know he was educated in the US?"

  "So I heard. I just can't imagine you two as friends." She'd chosen her words carefully.

  Angering Jack had been too easy. How had he kept his temper a secret?

  "We were roommates, not friends. I worked my ass off getting my degree, while Manny played with the girls. He had something I didn't. Money. When he offered to pay me to do his assignments, I learned that if he wants something, he's willing to pay well to get it."

  If she could have kept him talking, she'd have dug around inside his head and tried to persuade him to help her. "But you turned on your country."

  He laughed. "I'm not. It's not like I'm giving away political secrets. This is a onetime deal. After I pay off my bookie, I'm done with Manny."

  "He'll never let you be 'done.'"

  "Sure he will. Convincing my boss back home how hard I tried to save you will be my biggest challenge." He poked his finger into her swollen cheek. "Dalton will have to grant me a personal leave to get over the distress."

  "Jack," she begged. "Take me to Ortega, but don't let Ty and Marcus walk into a trap. Turn around and go back. Please." A trickle of blood escaped her mouth and ran down her chin.

  "Aww," he said in a falsetto voice. "You fell in love, didn't you? Manny's gonna get a kick out of that."

  "I didn't fall for anybody. The killing has to stop somewhere."

  "Tell you what, you can ask Manny to spare your lover. Cry and beg. He's got his mind made up. I don't see you changing it."

  Jack had masked his true self perfectly. The free-spirited, easygoing federal agent didn't exist. Underneath he was an arrogant, backstabbing traitor without a conscience. He couldn't care less what was going to happen to her.

  ****

  Ty's skin still burned from the heat of Ana's gaze, but he'd done as she'd asked. He hadn't said goodbye nor had he looked back. There had been nothing left to say. He'd stared out into the darkness last night, running it all through his mind.

  He couldn't stay in her country. His life was in America.

  And Ana? She'd never give up her fight. She thought she'd find peace with Ortega's death. Ty knew better. Another drug czar would take his place. Other families would be hurt, and Ana would rally. She'd work with her uncle to better her own country. She couldn't leave.

  Checkmate.

  He shouldered his backpack, walked into one of the few affluent neighborhoods, and stole a car.

  He left it parked about a mile south of Ortega's house, so it could be found and returned to its owner. He turned to Marcus. "You ready?"

  "As I'll ever be. First sighting?"

  "Absolutely. Doesn't matter which one of us locates him. You get a visual? Take him down."

  Quiet, stone-faced Marcus, whom Ty trusted with his life, nodded and exited the vehicle. Thankful for the moonlight, they slipped into the shadows. There would be no more talking until the raid was over. Side by side, they jogged the distance around to the back of the house and climbed up the wall to the tree. Guards had to be located, timed, and neutralized.

  Something still ate at Ty about their last trip to this house. Rescuing Lina and Pablo had been orchestrated but why? And why had he and Marcus walked away so easily?

  Fifteen minutes into their wait, movement caught his eye, as did Marcus's signal that meant, "I got this."

  A man stepped into view dressed in pseudo-military camo pants and shirt. Ty put the guard in his crosshairs to back up Marcus and hoped not to have to pull the trigger. The sound of gunfire would travel a long distance, and someone might hear.

  Marcus stood and stepped off the tree limb, landing on the head and shoulders of the poor slob below. The only noise was the woof of air the guard expelled on impact.

  Marcus quickly returned to his perch, and Ty smiled at his perfect timing. Never having worked this kind of situation with his friend, Ty had no idea just how stealthy Marcus could be. The entire takedown had looked like a scene from a rodeo. A professional calf roper couldn't have dismounted, thrown, and hog-tied his catch any faster.

  Ty couldn't shake the feeling that this was too easy. Sitting in a tree worrying wasn't going to get the job done. He shook off the gnawing in his gut, dropped to the ground, and led the way to the back door.

  The sliding-glass door opened, and they entered a large area obviously built as a man cave. A flat-screen television took up half a wall and was surrounded by shelves stacked high with DVDs. A full-size pool table parked smack in the middle of the room was the only obstacle between them and the rest of the house.

  He and Marcus watched for the dog, knowing it might be their first encounter. They hoped he was caged or slept in the boy's room. Until it was proved that he'd attacked Lina and Pablo, neither Ty nor Marcus wanted to pass judgment on the dumb animal.

  They crossed through the house, stopping at the base of the wide staircase. Ty indicated Marcus should take the right side of the hall.

  Lights flooded the landing at the top of the staircase, backlighting a young man sitting on the top stair.

  Son of a bitch, they'd walked into a trap. Nothing that happened now was going to be good. Killing a kid wasn't part of the plan.

  Without speaking a word, they whirled to head for the exit.

  "Oh no, señores. Stay and join the party," the kid called out. "We've been expecting you."

  More bright lights filled the area.

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. "I'm not much of a party animal."

  Ty agreed. Knowing how many men they'd have to take out would determine their next move. "Let me do a quick count and see how big this party is, then we'll decide what to do. You keep an eye on the boy."

  "I'd hate to kill this kid, but if he aims a weapon." Marcus's voice was cold as an iceberg and sounded twice as dangerous.

  An accurate head count wasn't necessary. Ty had eyes on the six in front of him. Add them to the guard on each side at the top of the stairs and the math was easy. All of them had him and Marcus in their crosshairs. Dressed in the same makeshift military gear, somebody's odor wafted across the room. The smell was a combination of sweat and maybe fear.

  Were they scared of their leader? A woman about five-foot-two?

  Standing in front of the guards was the same old woman he'd seen take the dog out. Her drab gray housedress reached her ankles and covered all but the toes of the thick-soled shoes she wore. Even pulling her hair back into a high bun hadn't stretched out the deep wrinkles on her weathered face.

  Something was missing from her expression. Her eyes reflected no fear when her gaze locked on his. The emotion he detected was pure unadulterated loathing. Why would she hate them? She stuffed her hands into the wide front pocket of her apron and appeared to be quite calm.

  "Are you finished talking?" She walked toward Ty, speaking directly to him in English. "You have two choices. Put down your weapons or die."

  Marcus stepped forward and scowled down at the woman. "Anciana, you should be more discriminating in the company you keep."

  Her smile turned Ty's blood to thick sludge.

  "Bobo, you have no value to mi jefe."

  Her hand exited her pocket. She slashed out too fast for Marcus to react. He flexed backward but not far enough. The diagonal strip of red across his shirt left no doubt that she'd made contact.

  The boy's laughter brought a chorus of cheers from the guards. Ty wondered if the kid thought her calling Marcus stupid was funny or enjoyed watching her slice him open.

  "Guess I shouldn't have called her an ol
d woman." Marcus ran his hand over his chest, frowned at the blood, and then wiped it on his pants leg.

  Ty turned his back on the men and the woman and faced Ortega's son. "What do you want?" He definitely wanted something or Ty and Marcus would have been dead by now.

  "Drop your weapons. I tire of this game."

  Ty caught Marcus's gaze and hoped the message he telegraphed was understood. Now wasn't the time to try to Butch Cassidy their way out. There was more to this "game," and they needed to be alive to play.

  Marcus's head moved forward once. He dropped his rifle and pistol next to Ty's at the old woman's feet. Her eyes glistened. She motioned, and the gunmen rushed forward.

  "You will entertain jefe later."

  Then the lights went out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Should it hurt this much just to wake up? The volcano erupting inside Ty's head hurt worse with movement. Oppressive heat pressed down on his lungs and restricted his ability to draw a breath.

  Ty's subconscious understood his thoughts were rambling, but his brain demanded he claw his way to the edge of awareness. Pieces of reality fell into place, sending his eyelids open. Ortega's men had tried to bash his skull in.

  Marcus. Where the fuck was Marcus? If Ortega or that bitch of a housekeeper had killed him, they'd all die. Ty opened his eyes and pressed himself up on his elbow.

  Where was he? A faint light shone through a small hole in whatever sweatbox he was in. The stench reminded him of dead animal carcasses and the muddy watering hole he and Ana had run across in the jungle.

  Jesus, how long had he been out? His eyes slowly adjusted to the semidarkness. He slowly rolled over the other direction. Relief washed over him. Marcus's head was bent, and he appeared focused on the woman sitting beside him.

  She lifted her hair and spun it into a knot.

  No, his brain shouted. He willed the hallucination away. Plain and simple, Ana could not be in this hellhole. By now, Jack Fury had delivered her into her uncle's protective arms.

  Yet the hair piled on top of her head, the shape of her shoulders, even the way she moved made him wonder.