"You'd better kill me," young Ortega said, venom dripping from his words.
"Talk to me after a few years in a Colombian prison," Ty snapped.
"I am Enrique Ortega. Don't think for a minute I'll go to prison."
"May I have the phone?" Ana asked Marcus.
Ty watched her walk away, his mini warrior, with her hair pulled up in that fly-away knot, her clothes in tatters, and looking more beautiful than ever. He didn't try to listen, figuring she'd called her Uncle Rodrigo. Ty didn't think Rod could come up with a plan for Enrique, but he was open to anything. The sooner the better.
Ana ended the call and handed the cell back to Marcus. "I have someone picking up the boy on our way to the airstrip. And he's not a corrupt cop or official."
"Good enough. Let's get out of here." Ty secured Enrique with strips of fabric and gagged him. Marcus pushed him into the backseat with the dog. Awake and curious, the mutt licked Marcus's hand.
Ty slid in behind the wheel, jockeyed around into a U-turn, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. Time to go home. Only one more thing to do. He dropped the car into park.
"Be right back."
He went straight to the guards who'd smoked the joint and dug through their shirt pockets until he found the lighter.
Mission complete, he jumped behind the wheel, dropped the gear shift to drive, and put the gas pedal on the floor. The air conditioner kicked in just as the ground under the wheels rumbled.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The car lurched back and forth a couple of times. A loud boom shook the windows.
Ty exploded in laughter.
"Dear Lord." Ana turned in her seat and peered out window. Her heart rate jumped to supersonic. "What exploded?"
"I returned Ortega's playground to the environment."
Marcus chuckled. "As it should be."
"You do like to blow things up." She joined the laughter. Just like he'd obliterated the drug compound, Ty had wiped the torture site off the map.
Relief made her giddy. Her promise had been kept. Fate dealt her the opportunity to save Ty's life and kill Ortega at the same time. No more running. By day, she'd lobby the government for better, stricter, enforceable laws. By night, she'd help Pablo and Uncle Rod. They'd never blown anything up, but maybe it was time they did.
"Who's taking Enrique? And what happens to him?" Ty asked.
"I contacted a friend. He'll make sure the boy is put somewhere he can't hurt anyone else."
"That 'boy' is a man. When you can send a dog to kill another human, your youth is gone." Marcus shifted in the seat.
She understood his discomfort cramped in so close. She was sandwiched between the two of them.
"That means a Colombian prison," Ty said. "Where money could buy his way out."
His comment reminded her of his very vocal dislike of her country. "Suffice to say, Enrique will never walk the streets freely again. If he was willing to kill one of his own, I'm sure he's the one who gave the command to attack Lina and Pablo."
"Just who did you call?" Ty asked. "I'm not all that keen on trusting your government."
"Then you'll have to trust me. There are traitors everywhere. Shall I remind you about Jack? Many good people in my country are honest and respected. I told one of them to meet us at the airstrip."
Ty glanced at her. His dark eyes had turned obsidian. "You didn't give those directions to anyone."
"I gave directions to the house where we changed clothes and picked up the car. I didn't mention planes or airstrips. We'll hand Enrique off in the driveway. There's no reason for him or anyone to come inside or go around back."
He blew out his pissed-off sigh. "What about the dog?" he asked Marcus.
"He goes with me."
"He's a killer. You saw firsthand what he can do."
"I saw him follow orders. He's a smart animal that can be taught. How many war dogs come home and live good lives?"
"He's no war dog." Ty's voice dropped an octave. "Don't try to compare them."
"You know what I meant," Marcus fired back. "You might as well get used to the idea. Because he's fucking coming with me." Marcus glanced at Ana. "Sorry, Ana."
"No problem." She waved him off. After such a passionate declaration from him, she wasn't getting involved in the discussion.
"In that case, we'd better come up with something. The three of us are about to get on that plane, and he's too big to smuggle him in your backpack."
Ty's tone was warm and understanding. Normally, the sound would have touched her heart or even curled her toes. The arrogance of his assumption, that she intended to return with them, stunned her.
"The dog can have my seat on the plane. I'm not going back with you."
The car slowed slightly, and Ty shot her a quick glance. Disbelief clouded his eyes. His eyebrows rose as if her statement was ludicrous.
"You can't stay here." He spoke in a "you're behaving like a child" tone.
"He's right." Marcus turned to check on the boy, who was kicking the back of the seat. "Stop that or I'll break one of your legs."
"I'm not leaving my home again. I can make a difference by standing up and being heard."
"There will always be another dealer. They'll come after you if you get in their way."
"And so they will. Who is going to do this if not me?" Using her love for her country as a shield, she tried to shove her feelings for Ty from her heart. She'd fantasized they might have had a chance. That had been a daydream. And daydreams never came true.
Ty blew out that aggravated sigh of his. Funny, she'd held the tears at bay until he'd made his unique little huff. Now, they threatened to break over the dam. She feared if she started crying, she wouldn't stop.
He stayed on the back roads, cruising at a normal speed to avoid drawing attention. Neither he nor Marcus mentioned her staying behind again. The closer the time for goodbye came, the more her emotions fractured.
Ty's thigh pressed against hers by necessity, but sent reminders of his hard and defined body to her mind. His right shoulder stayed in constant contact, triggering a mental picture of his arms around her. His hands gripped the steering wheel and induced the strongest reaction. They could be tough yet gentle, harsh yet comforting, deadly yet loving. In her heart, she admitted her love for him. In her mind, she reconciled the fact that some people weren't meant to spend their lives together. She'd cherish the few times he'd held her in his arms.
Uncle Rod would tell her to make do with the hand life dealt her. When Ty got on the plane, he'd carry her heart with him, relieving her of the responsibility of "making do."
She beat back panic when the road leading to the house came into view. Ty dropped a hand from the steering wheel to her knee and squeezed. A peace offering. One she needed. Once again, tears flooded her eyes. She twined her fingers through his in a show of strength.
A dark sedan was parked on the shoulder of the road in front of the house. Ty released her fingers and pulled his pistol free.
A figure emerged, and Ana recognized her contact. "It's okay. He works for the Minister of Justice. I trust him with my life."
"He's trusting you with his." Ty put his gun away and pulled the car over at the end of the driveway.
She understood his reasoning for not wanting Oscar Guzman close to the house and grounds. Ty assisted her out. Marcus exited, keeping the car between him and their guest.
Oscar offered to shake, and Ty reached out and grasped the extended hand. Introductions were brief, without exchanging qualifications.
"You have the prisoner?" Oscar glanced at Marcus.
"This kid is dangerous. Surely you didn't come alone." Ty studied the blacked-out windows on the car.
Oscar lifted his hand, and two doors opened. Two armed, uniformed officers exited.
From behind, Ana heard Marcus's rifle land on top of their car.
"Enrique Ortega isn't unknown to us. He's had more than one scrape with the law. His temper is worse than his father
's."
Ty motioned to Marcus, who then shouldered the rifle, opened the back door, and dragged the kid to his feet. The two guards met Marcus, and quickly removed the gag and makeshift ties, securing Enrique's hands and feet with plastic ties.
"I can't walk," the young man said through clenched teeth.
"Is okay. We'll help." The guards grabbed the kid under his arms and dragged him to the sedan.
"Do you want to ride back with us?" Oscar touched her arm.
She couldn't imagine what he thought of the three of them. Filthy, reeking, bruised and bloodied, they must've looked like they'd fought and lost. But they hadn't. Thanks to Ty and Marcus they'd won this round on the war on drugs.
"No, thanks." She'd want the privacy she'd have driving the rental back. Ty and Marcus would be winging their way to the land of milk and honey. She'd always thought that saying to be funny, but looking at how beaten and worn her country was, maybe indeed America offered a heaven here on earth.
"Vaya con Dios," Oscar said, shaking both Ty's and Marcus's hands. "My government is grateful."
"Thank you." Ana hugged him.
"Let me hear from you."
The sedan sped off toward Bogota.
Marcus pulled her into his arms, squeezing the air from her lungs. "Don't be an idiot," he whispered. "See you."
He retrieved the dog, squatted down, and ruffled his fur. With a wave to Ana, he and his new friend jogged down the drive and into the house. She understood his actions. He was affording a measure of privacy to her and Ty.
"Walk out to the airstrip with us." Ty's hand slid around her waist.
So he wasn't going to try to talk her into going. Part of her ached for him to beg her to get on that plane, while part of her felt relief that he wasn't going to pressure her. Ty was a smart man. Smart enough to know together wasn't an option.
"I'll head on back. I want to see Lina and Pablo, make sure they're getting better."
He spun her into his arms, crushing her into his body. She clung tightly, doing her best to absorb his essence. Imprinting his touch in her mind and tucking the memory deep inside her heart for safe keeping.
"There's so much I need to say." He spoke softly, his breath ruffling her hair.
The roar of an airplane engine meant the pilot was readying the plane. She caught his hand and walked to the car. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him. "Cuídate mi amor."
He slid his index finger down her cheek. His eyes traversed her face, giving her the impression he was committing her to memory. The weight of a large boulder settled on her lungs. Why must the people she loved always leave her?
"Ana," he whispered her name. "My little warrior. You'll do wonderful things for your country."
Her throat closed. Tears rushed to brim in her eyes. "I hope so."
"We both knew this moment would come." His head lowered, and his lips pressed to her forehead. Then he stepped back and opened the car door for her.
Ana's hands trembled as she buckled the seat belt. Gathering every ounce of strength and willpower she had left, she started the car. Tears crept to the surface, blurring the road, but she sped away. Glancing in her rearview, she took one last look.
His image would forever be burned into her soul. When she reached the highway, she stopped, draped her arms over the steering wheel, and then sobbed until the deafening sound of the small jet drew her attention. She jumped from the car, ran into the road, and watched until all she could see was a splinter in the sky.
****
Ty drained the bottle, allowing the cool water to quench his thirst. He'd polished off the sandwich and chips, bragging they tasted better than a filet. If his hands hadn't been filthy, he'd have licked off any remnants of nutrition.
He stared at the mess of plastic and paper. How long had Ana gone without something to eat?
"She had water, and I'm guessing she's eaten by now." Marcus answered the unasked question. He idly stroked the dog's head resting in his lap. Except for a brown and white mane, the mutt was jet black. His brown eyes followed every move his new master made.
"You really think that animal is redeemable?" Ty ignored the reference to Ana. Reading minds was a secret Marcus had kept well hidden.
"I wouldn't have brought him if I thought otherwise. You gonna keep changing the subject every time she comes up?"
"Only if you keep bringing her up. As private as you are about your personal life, I'm surprised you don't get that I don't want to talk about her."
"On what planet can you compare Lynne's death with you being an idiot?"
"What? I didn't say anything about your wife." Marcus talking about her was a shocker. Nate had warned to expect a rash of shit for even mentioning her name.
"Bullshit. The reference to me being a private person was a direct hit. At least I recognized how much I loved her and had the good sense to marry her. Ana surprised me when she mentioned my wife. Kind of let out all that stale air I'd been holding inside."
"I'm glad you two talked out your feelings. I, on the other hand, have no intention of doing a Dear Abby with you."
"Asshole," Marcus grumbled. "We didn't have a heart-to-heart, and I don't like talking that crap either. Take this for what it's worth. I know you, and finding anyone else who'll love you as much as Ana does ain't gonna happen."
Ty opened his mouth to say shut up, but closed it. Marcus had read his thoughts perfectly. Had he also seen the hole in Ty's heart? The one big enough to drive a freight train through?
Before he could speak, Marcus waved him off.
"I'm done. Subject is closed." The quiet man returned to silent mode by biting off half of his sandwich.
Ty wadded his trash into a ball and tossed it toward the galley. The dog eyed the sack, maybe considering going to investigate. Instead, he took the piece of bread Marcus offered and laid his head back down.
"If you're finished, you need to scrub that cut clean. I'll be happy to help." Ty joked in an effort to lighten the tense air between them. He went to the small cabinet over the sink, rummaged around until he found a first aid kit. He carried it back and started laying out bandages and ointment.
Marcus pushed the dog's head off his lap and stood. "Stay." The dog jumped to the floor. "Stay," he said more firmly before turning his back and taking a step, which the dog did, too. He took the dog by its collar and led him back to the seat. "Parar."
The mutt didn't move a hair, his tongue hanging out in anticipation of his new friend's return.
"Well, of course. The mutt speaks Spanish," Ty said. "What are you going to call him?"
"He answers to Diablo. I'll probably go with that. First thing is to teach him English." Marcus stripped his shirt and started cleaning his wound. "The cut looks fine. Ana washed it off before we came back to help you."
The pilot interrupted the ensuing argument, preventing Ty from again telling Marcus to drop the subject. Ana had killed for him. Again. And hadn't received a word of thanks.
"Nate's waiting at the airstrip. Said to tell you Dalton Murphy is with him. He expects a full debriefing."
"I expected the FBI would want details." Still stooped in the small plane, Marcus returned to his seat, patted the empty one next to him, and rewarded the dog with a good ear-scratching for staying put.
Ty's palms itched to smack Marcus upside his head. He was too fucking happy. Happy to be going home. Happy to have a dog to pet. And apparently happy he had found a peace that had long been missing.
Marcus might never get past the guilt of not being there when his wife had died, but his recovery and healing had apparently begun. Ty clenched his teeth. At the moment, cheerful only served to piss him off.
"They'd better ask their questions fast." Ty shifted in his seat, searching for a way to straighten his legs. "Because I 'm taking some time off. In fact, I'm going fishing."
"You've never been fishing in your life." Marcus looked at the dog and shook his head as if the mutt understood.
"It's never too late to s
tart."
"You know the cabins I rent on Falcon Lake. I'll give you the number if you're serious. You can hire a guide and use his boat. A vacation might help clear your head."
"You boys will be home in thirty minutes," the pilot called out.
Ty buckled his seat belt, leaned back, and watched the clouds fly past as they began their descent. For the first time in years, he felt like a man without a purpose, adrift without a rudder.
Damn it, he loved her. Missed having her near. Missed her scent, her touch, her ability to make him crazy. Should he have begged her to come with him? Would she have given in only to resent him later? He couldn't have done that to her.
Wheels down, the copilot opened the door and dropped a step stool for Ty and Marcus to use. Warm air rushed him. Not the wet, humid air of the jungle, but the Texas heat of a dying summer.
"Tyrell, Marcus," Kay squealed, rushing ahead of Nate, waving her arms in the air.
"She's never gonna call you Ty. You might as well get used to it."
They both braced for her landing in their arms. Typical Kay, she was all smiles, touching and feeling them to ensure they'd returned in one piece, while Nate stood by patiently. The expression on his face, the adoration he had for his wife, sent a zing of loneliness straight through Ty.
She ignored that they smelled like days of dead goat, got between them, slipped her arms through theirs, and headed toward the hangar.
"I'm glad the op is over. I don't like overseas assignments. Don't be rolling your eyes behind my back," she said, glancing over her shoulder at Nate.
Her retired SEAL husband who took orders from no one rolled them anyway. "They pay the bills."
"Don't you love this time of year?" Kay never broke stride. "The weather's perfect. Kids can go to the park. There's not a cloud in the sky. Even the birds are singing."
Ty scanned the area. What was she seeing that he couldn't? The world looked gray to him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ty exited the Boeing 727, walked straight to the exit, and pushed through the doors. He used to like traveling. Since leaving Colombia, even overnight away from home was too long. He crossed the street to the parking garage, unlocked his pickup, and tossed his overnight bag in the passenger seat.
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