by Desiree Holt
It felt like an eternity before she sensed a change in the angle of the bird, opened her eyes and saw they were descending.
“My God, we’re at the end of nowhere,” she gasped.
“Close to it,” Rick agreed.
A log cabin sat perched on a bluff overlooking what she realized was the Atlantic, an angry-looking ocean with swirling whitecaps. From the cabin it was a sheer drop to the rocks below. The rest was open space and not much of it.
“God, is this the only way up here?” Faith asked.
Rick grinned again. “I think Dan would like it that way but no. There’s a road beyond those trees. Straight up the cliff.”
Her gaze shifted and she noticed a grove of trees standing to one side of the cabin with four black SUVs parked next to them.
“Oh, well. Thank goodness for that. I think.”
As the helo sat with its rotors spinning, Rick helped the two women down to the ground, bending low to avoid the rotor wash. Then he grabbed the duffle, slammed the door of the helicopter, waved to Ed in the pilot’s seat and the bird lifted off as they ran for the cabin. When Faith looked up the door was open, bright light spilling out into the rain-soaked gloom. Three men, all as big as Rick—and Mark—stood framed in the rectangle. And there was nothing welcoming about their look.
The one in the middle, dark hair, fierce eyes, came forward. “Hello, Miss Wilding. I’m Dan Romeo. Come on in. We look frightening but I assure you, we don’t bite.”
A fire was crackling in the fireplace, something Faith wasn’t used to seeing at this time of year and it bathed the rustic cabin in a warm glow. She wasn’t shy about standing in front of it and rubbing her hands. She noticed Tia, far from her usual boisterous self, doing the same thing.
“Any more trouble?” she heard one of the men ask.
“No,” Rick answered. “We got away clean. But I’ll bet they’re rallying the troops and having fits as we speak. Any news on the origin of the email I forwarded?”
“Troy ran it through the Dragon but for the moment it’s a dead end. It leads back to a laptop registered to a false name. We’ve got the system running comparisons on the name to see who uses it as an alias. But we may not get anything before we leave.”
Faith turned to face the men. “Thank you for letting my friend and me invade your space,” she said in a formal tone.
Dan dipped his head once. “We couldn’t do any less for Tidbit.” His face was solemn but he didn’t try to hide a twinkle in his eyes.
Faith gave him a shaky smile. How nice to have a tiny bit of humor in this situation. “I appreciate it.” She turned her head. “This is Tia Romero, my assistant. And unfortunate innocent bystander in this tragedy.”
Tia actually laughed. “It’s all right. I needed a little excitement in my life.”
Dan introduced the others in the room. “Would you like some coffee? A cold drink?”
“I don’t suppose you have anything like a tea bag here, do you?”
Troy moved into the kitchen area. “It so happens I’m a tea drinker myself.” He gave her a mock frown. “You’re sworn to secrecy about this, you understand.”
“They could use some warm clothes, if we can find anything to fit,” Rick said. “They got pretty chilled just in the few minutes we were outside.”
“I can find something.” Mike headed to the second bedroom.
“I’m fine for the moment,” Faith said. “The tea will do the trick.”
For the first time since that morning she relaxed a tiny bit. These men might not be happy to see her—she’d been dropped into their bolt-hole, probably put them in a difficult situation. But they weren’t going to throw her to the wolves or make her feel like an intruder. And she had the sudden feeling that if anyone could rescue Mark it was them.
“I wish I could give you time to rest,” Dan told her, “but we’re getting ready to leave as we speak. I need you to repeat for us everything you’ve learned from Mark in your…conversations.”
Faith sat down at the table, gratefully accepting the hot tea from Troy. “How much has Rick told you?”
“The bare necessities. Why don’t you fill in the details?”
So once again she told her story, watching the faces of the men as she laid it out for them, waiting for signs of the usual skepticism. She saw none of this, only an understanding that surprised her. Then she remembered who these men were and why nothing should surprise her.
“So there it is,” she finished. “I can tell you, he’s badly hurt. Probably tortured. Barely hanging on. And we’re his only hope.”
Dan and Rick exchanged looks.
She moved her gaze from one to the other. “What?”
“We’ll try to make you as comfortable here as we can before we leave,” Rick said. “We’re not exactly set up for guests but you and Miss Romero can share the second bedroom.”
“Wait a minute.” She stared up at him. “You’re leaving me here? Are you kidding?”
“It’s the only place you’ll be safe.” Mike came over to stand by the table. “We have two men coming who’ll be on sentry duty at all times. I’d trust my mother with them.”
“Plus,” Rick added, “this cabin has every kind of security system you could want.”
“No.” She slammed her fist on the table. “I’m going with you.”
Dan shook his head. “Not happening. This mission is dangerous and demands only highly trained people. You’d be a liability.”
“But I have one thing you don’t,” she pointed out. “I can exchange messages with Mark. You might need that to actually pinpoint him. Or find out information about the camp.”
They just looked at her, not saying a word.
“You know I’m right,” she insisted. “Just tell me what to do. I won’t get in the way and I won’t be a liability. I can keep up.”
More silence, broken only by the snapping of the logs in the fireplace and the sound of the rain against the windows.
“She’s right,” Troy said at last. “She could be an asset.”
Rick turned to Dan. “Did you make contact in Peru?”
Dan nodded. “Cristo knows approximately where the camp is. He gave us enough to at least figure out an insertion point. But he gave us another very valuable piece of information.”
Rick reached into the fridge for a cold soda, popped the top and took a long swallow. “And that is?”
“DEA has a man in Escobedo’s group. Someone they’ve recently been able to co-opt for personal reasons. He’s the one who reported where and when the meeting was going to take place.”
Mike picked up another log and threw it on the fire, poking it to make sure it caught. “And why would the government trust someone who’s already a traitor to one person?”
Dan’s eyes turned cold. “Because he’s not a willing participant. He’s a field weapons expert and to get his cooperation Escobedo took his sister and won’t release her until he proves himself. Uncle Sam promised to help him get her out and hide both of them away.”
“Jesus.” Mike poked at the fire again. “This thing gets more convoluted by the minute.”
Dan finished the coffee he’d been drinking, rinsed his cup and put it in the sink. “Well, we’d better get to it. We don’t exactly have time to waste.”
“And me?” Faith asked. “What about me?”
“You’d better live up to your advertising. I’d hate to have anything happen to you but Mark Halloran’s our first priority.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
I hope. Oh, Mark, we’re coming. Just hold on a little longer.
And without any warning he was there.
I will. Tidbit…hurry.
* * * * *
Dan had scrounged some sweats and heavy sweaters from a closet.
“Left over from someone’s girlfriend, I think,” he apologized to Faith. “But at least you won’t freeze to death.”
“These will be fine,” she assured him with a we
ak smile. “Thank you.” She turned to Tia, the pile of clothes in her hand. “Let’s divide these up.”
Tia waved her hand. “I’m good with whatever. You choose.”
“Would it be an imposition if I asked to take a shower?” Faith asked of Dan.
“Not at all. Come on. I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”
The bathroom was small but efficient, the stall shower tucked into one corner. Faith stood under the hot spray letting the heat steep into her chilled body. But even the hottest water couldn’t reach the chill around her heart at the thought of Mark and his situation. What if they didn’t get him out in time? What if they ended up not even being able to find him?
There was, of course, no shower gel but she rubbed the bar of soap into her hand and worked up a good lather. Moving her hand over her body she closed her eyes and imagined it was Mark’s. Stroking her breast. Cupping it. Pinching her nipples. She pinched them harder, welcoming the streaks of pain that shot immediately to her pussy. Her inner muscles quivered, hungry for something to fill her empty channel.
She rubbed her stomach in a slow, circular motion, remembering when she and Mark were lying in bed and he’d done the same thing to her. Moving his hand lower and lower. Extending his little fingers so as his hand moved his finger swirled the tip of her clit.
Now she tried to mimic that movement but her fingers were not as long as his, so she had to slide her hand lower. At the lightest touch fire streaked through her swollen nub and surged through her body.
Mark!
She screamed his name silently in her head and shoved two fingers into her greedy pussy, riding it as she rode Mark’s hand. It took three of her fingers to fill the space where he used two, but she was desperate now. Suddenly frantic to make herself climax, as if reliving the orgasm she shared with him would somehow guarantee his safety.
She bent her legs slightly and worked her fingers faster and faster, pinching her nipple again at the same time.
The orgasm rippled through her rather than crashing, and it left her vaguely dissatisfied. She leaned against the shower wall, aware she’d done nothing but take the edge off her need, leaving her still anxious and vaguely dissatisfied.
She rinsed herself off thoroughly and turned off the shower, reaching for a towel. Well, at least she wasn’t cold anymore. Except around her heart.
* * * * *
“He’s doing what?” Winslow held the receiver away from his head and looked at it as if expecting it to turn into a foreign object. He’d been back in his office barely five minutes when he got the call. Suddenly the room paneled in warm mahogany with its thick carpets began to more closely resemble a plush cell.
“You heard me.” Digger’s voice was harsh. “I approved it so don’t give me any shit. We need to find her and get her out of the way.”
“Whose idea was this, anyway?” Winslow yanked at his tie to loosen it, unbuttoned his collar and opened the door to the hidden bar.
“I told them to smoke her out.” Digger snorted. “I guess they took me literally.”
“You don’t think burning down her house is a little drastic?”
“I think going to prison would be a lot more radical. At this point we need to stop her from banging on doors. This will either keep her occupied or scare the shit out of her.”
“If Phoenix has her they’ll never let her out in the open. Even with something like this.”
“Don’t be so sure. Besides, this might be a way to get at them too.”
Winslow laughed but there was little humor in the sound. “Now I know you’re crazy. Nobody gets at them. You above all people should know that.”
“Still, it’s a shot we have to take.”
Winslow poured two fingers of bourbon into a Baccarat tumbler, tossed in some ice cubes and tossed a healthy swallow down his throat. “Are you any closer to finding out who gave up the info for the mission to begin with?”
“Another boondoggle.”
The silence that drifted along the connection was almost palpable. Winslow finished his drink and poured another one. Before this was over he was liable to turn into an alcoholic.
“No hint?” he pursued.
“My boss knows,” Digger said, his voice tight. “I know him well enough to read the signs. But I couldn’t blow it loose if I shoved a stick of dynamite up his ass.”
Winslow tossed back part of the second drink. “Argentina is beginning to look better all the time.”
Digger made a noise. “That may not be far enough.”
“So when is this event supposed to take place?”
“Tonight. I’ll call you when it’s done. You’ll be home?”
“I don’t know. Call my cell. I’ll have it on. And Digger. These guys better know what the hell they’re doing.”
* * * * *
When Faith emerged into the main room of the cabin, showered and dressed in the borrowed clothes, Rick took her into the bedroom to meet his brother and she and Joey spent a few minutes talking. It was obvious to her, though, he was still in a great deal of pain. She waited until Troy gave him another dose of pain meds, then went back to join the others.
“I can hardly believe he lived through that,” she told Rick.
“Latrobes are tough,” he told her, his face tight with anger. “But I promise you the people who did this to him—to Mark—will wish they’d never been born.”
“Have you found out anything yet about the email message? Because if not, I’ve got someone I’m pretty sure can trace it.”
“Oh?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve got someone working on it, but if he doesn’t get answers soon we’ll go to Plan B. Your guy. After I talk to him.” He gestured at the other men in the room. “Normally Mike would do it himself but as you can see, getting ready for this mission takes priority over everything.”
She looked around the room. Gear was everywhere, laid out in an obviously orderly fashion. Mike and Dan sat at the big round table with an assortment of weapons in front of them and in a chest to the side, methodically checking each of them over. Faith had no idea what any of them were but she was sure they could stage a small revolution with what they had.
Troy sat on the floor, stacking piles of camo clothing with wet suits and checking everything for damage. Rick was on the couch, a variety of equipment on the low table in front of him. Faith was able to identify some pieces of the comm gear just from reading she’d done.
Tia was in the kitchen making a fresh pot of coffee and fixing sandwiches for everyone. She grinned at Faith. “You know me. I have to make myself useful.”
Faith hugged her. “I have to tell you again how much I hate dragging you into this.”
“Are you kidding?” She leaned over to whisper in Faith’s ear. “All these hunks in this room? It’s like a testosterone buffet.” She winked. “And not one of them is married.”
“Probably with good reason,” Faith whispered back.
“Miss Wilding?” Dan put down the gun he was checking. “We need you for a moment.”
“Please call me Faith. I think we’re well into the first name stage here.”
“Faith, then. Please.” He gestured at an empty chair. “Could you sit down for a moment?”
Oh- oh. This couldn’t be good.
“What is it?”
“I want to make it perfectly clear to you exactly what’s going to happen when we leave here.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” she told him.
“I doubt it. Movies and books romanticize stuff like this. Here are the hard facts. We’ll be flying to Peru and a helicopter will drop us at our insertion point. The helo will hover and you’ll have to jump without breaking a leg. You understand?”
“Of course.” She folded her hands tightly in front of her. They were trying to scare her but her fear for Mark was greater than her fear for herself.
“You’ll be wearing gear like the rest of us except you won’t have a rifle. Unless you’re very familiar with a
n AK47, we won’t have time to teach you and I don’t want to take the chance you might kill one of us by accident.”
“Fine.” What did they expect her to say?
“You’ll have to carry some kind of firepower, however. Just in case. None of us can take the time to provide protection for you.”
She glared at him. “I don’t expect you to. And by the way, I know how to shoot a gun.”
Dan raised an eyebrow, skepticism plain on his face. “Is that right?”
“Yes. It is. Two years ago I took a handgun class and got my license to carry concealed. I practice at the range regularly.”
Rick, overhearing, burst into a humorless laugh. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Mark insisted on it. He said I travel around by myself too much not to do it.”
“I see. And what’s your weapon of choice, Annie Oakley?”
Faith resisted the urge to smack him. This wasn’t the time to let anger get the best of her. “A Glock nine millimeter. And I’m damn good with it.”
“Fine. Here.” Dan held out a weapon to her. “See how this feels in your hand. Don’t worry, it’s not loaded yet.”
Faith took the gun and hefted it. “Fine. It’s a little heavier than mine but I can handle it.”
“All right. Here’s a full clip. Mike, take her out on the porch and see how quick she can lock and load.”
Faith took the clip and followed Mike out into the cold. She felt like she had the first day at the range, when her instructor looked at her with mixed horror and respect. But she jammed the clip in place, racked the slide and took her stance in three seconds.
“Aim for that target.” He pointed to one tacked to a tree, barely visible through the rain.
She looked up at him, he nodded, she shrugged and emptied the clip. Every bullet hit the center of the target. She couldn’t help the smug smile on her face.
Mike looked down at her with unwilling respect in his eyes. “Well, well. You’re not quite what you seem to be, are you?”