Table of Contents
DESPERATE HOURS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Dear Reader
Ebooks by Lisa Mondello
Bonus Material
DESPERATE HOURS
by Lisa Mondello
Originally published as HER ONLY PROTECTOR
Copyright © 2008 Lisa Mondello
Updated as DESPERATE HOURS
Copyright © 2016 Lisa Mondello
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. If you have received this book from an unauthorized website, removed the book from your device immediately. Pirating eBooks is stealing and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Dedication
To all the men and women who risk their lives rescuing American-born children being held captive in foreign countries.
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Bounty hunter, Gil Waite is after Sonny's brother. All he cares about is "finding the fugitive" and collecting his money. But Sonny Montgomery is after so much more. Her precious baby niece, Ellie, who was kidnapped by a Colombian drug lord. She won't betray her family by falling in love with the one man who has the power to destroy her family. But she needs to escape Colombia and has no choice but to trust Gil, a man whose rugged exterior hides the heart of a hero she can't resist.
HEROES OF PROVIDENCE by Lisa Mondello
Book 1 Material Witness
Book 2 Safe Haven
Book 3 Reckless Hours
Book 4 Desperate Hours
Book 5 Final Hours
Book 6 Cold Harbor
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Chapter One
Sonny Montgomery had an itch she couldn’t scratch. It sat dead center between her shoulder blades, just out of arm’s reach. Like a persistent mosquito buzzing around her ear, it nagged at her. But she couldn’t stop to deal with it. Even a small move like that could attract unwanted attention on these South American streets.
She needed to remain invisible. To be in and out of Colombia without anyone being able to recognize or remember her. Any connection to her family, either by name or face, would spell certain death for her and the baby.
And Cash. That is, if her brother was still alive. If the Colombian kingpin who had kidnapped Cash’s baby girl from her cradle in Eastmeadow, Massachusetts, just four months ago had shown him enough mercy not to kill him, then Dylan would find him. She was sure of it. But Sonny couldn’t think about that now. She was a long way from safety on her journey. She had to trust that those who had a job would do them so they could all reunite in Miami when this was over.
She held tight to the basket of fruit—it was heavy and her arm ached. She focused her mind on the ache instead of all she couldn’t control. Slipping her free hand beneath her striped poncho, she checked to make sure that her traveling papers were still in her money belt, which was strapped to her waist. They were.
Thanks to the duplicate passport the U.S. Embassy had issued for the baby, they’d both be able to fly out of Colombia without incident. Hopefully. The Colombian government might challenge it. But she was ready to battle that if it happened.
Sonny was long past struggling with what she was doing. Never in her life had she entertained the idea of doing anything illegal. And here she was in Colombia, ready to steal a baby and flee to the United States.
But it was the only way. Even her brother, Dylan, a former Marine and a Providence police officer, had assured her of that. Off the record, of course. Ellie had been stolen from them. The Colombian authorities wouldn’t recognize that crime. This was the only way. The only way.
It had rained during the night and the pungent smell of mud, earth and rotting garbage permeated the quiet, early-morning streets. A thick mist drifted up from the already hot ground. In an hour, the fruit market in the center of the city would be open. Some of the street vendors were already setting up their carts full of goods, ready for the tourists who would soon crowd the road, eager to barter for a bargain.
It was a long walk from her little room near the foothills to the center of town. Every noise she heard made her insides jump. It was a dangerous walk so early in the morning, alone. Torres had warned her to be on guard. But escaping the city would be much easier if she met him in town rather than having him meet her in the foothills and then go to the airport. The sooner the better. They didn’t want to contend with the morning traffic, which could end up making her late.
If all went well, Sonny would be long gone by the morning rush. And any evidence of her trip to Colombia would be erased. The team would make sure of that.
They had her back—Dylan had promised her. They’d all make it home. And when they did, this nightmare they’d all been living would be over.
Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she ran through her part of the plan one more time, telling herself she had to get it right. There was no room for error. The sooner she had the baby in her care and was out of Colombia and away from Eduardo Sanchez, the head of the Aztec Corporation, the sooner she’d be able to relax. Really relax. Not like the falling-down-because- you-can’t-stay-awake-anymore type of relaxing she’d been doing since she’d first learned her niece had been kidnapped by the Colombian businessman involved in organized crime.
The sweat of her palm made it hard to hold the heavy wicker basket in her hand, but she gripped it tighter, ignoring the urge to stretch her arm and scratch her back. As moisture beaded on her brow, Sonny was glad for the ache in her arm and the itch between her shoulder blades. They kept her mind off her nerves. Off all the things that could go wrong in a long string of choreographed steps that had to be perfectly performed in order for the plan to work. Mess up one and it’s a done deal. She was toast. And Ellie… She wasn’t going there. She wasn’t.
She thought of her brother. Cash would have been dead set against her coming to Colombia as Dylan had been at first. “No fucking way!” he’d said. “I already have to go rescue my brother from these murdering drug runners. There’s no way I’m throwing my sister into the ring to deal with them alone!”
He was right of course. What the hell did Sonny know about drug dealers or organized crime? She was a computer geek. By all accounts, she was invisible to most people by the very nature of her profession. She felt more comfortable at a computer than dressed up and dancing in a club.
But she was here. And it didn’t matter how comfortable she felt. She wasn’t backing down, just like she hadn’t backed down to Dylan.
Both of her brothers wanted to believe she was still their baby sister tagging along behind them and not the capable twenty-five-year-old woman she’d grown into. They’d missed this transformation. Cash hadn’t noticed much since he’d become
an agent for the Drug Enforcement Administration. And then when he was dealing with his wife and the kidnapping of his child. Dylan, the eldest, had missed even more while he was away in the military. If it weren’t for the fact that she was the only person who could make this plan work, Dylan would probably have padlocked her in her bedroom.
But Sonny couldn’t think about Cash or Dylan right now. The baby was her only concern. If she failed...
No. I’m not leaving this country without little Ellie.
Reaching the end of the dirt path, she stepped onto the paved road leading to the center of the city, her heart hammering in her chest so violently she could hardly breathe. Unlike the outskirts of town, central Monteria was modern, much like an American city. Stores and restaurants catered to the foreign tourist. Concrete high-rise hotels and office buildings packed the downtown streets. It seemed almost strange that a city like this could be just a few hundred meters from foothills that were lush with greenery and jungle.
The basket of fruit she held was just a prop, a reason for her to be walking the streets at this hour of the morning should anyone take notice of her. Lucia had told her that only vendors walked the road this early in the morning. She couldn’t risk renting a car or calling for a taxi—that would leave evidence of where she’d been and where she was going.
If she checked her watch, it would confirm what the sky was telling her now as light kissed the horizon and chased away the darkness from the alleyways and side streets. Her pulse pounded as the light grew brighter, the shadows stretching and then fading away. Blood raced through her veins.
It was almost time.
She was ready. As ready as she could be. She’d told Lucia she’d meet her two streets over from the marketplace. The road provided easy access in and out of the city and wouldn’t be as crowded with people. They’d avoid the suspicion of anyone who might be watching. Eyes were everywhere in this city. Manuel Turgis made sure of it in order to keep Eduardo Sanchez safe.
As she rounded the corner and reached the meeting place, she paused just a fraction of a second and listened. The urgent whine of a car engine and tires screeching cut into the calm of the morning. She checked her watch and then looked up to see a bright red blur speeding toward her, the noise of dirty spark plugs sputtering at an ear-splitting volume.
So much for being covert.
They were earlier than she expected. “Thank, God,” she whispered. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can handle.”
The dusty compact car ground to a halt next to her.
“Get in!” the driver demanded as he reached across the seat and threw open the passenger side door. Sonny knew the black-haired man in his early fifties as Torres. She had only met him once. All other contact had been made through his contact at the marketplace and his daughter, Lucia.
“Is it done?” she asked quickly.
“Leave the basket,” he ordered in a commanding voice made harsher by his thick accent. “You must get in, Sonia!”
Sonny jumped into action, unaccustomed to the use of her given name. Stepping off the curb, she caught sight of a figure slumped over in the backseat with a bright red bloodstain spreading across a white shirt. She couldn’t see the face, but she knew who it was.
Heart in her throat, she gasped, “Oh, dear God, no! No! Lucia?”
“Get in, I tell you! Do you want us all to be killed?” Sonny dropped the basket, the contents spilling over the potholed street. She hadn’t even shut the door before the wheels of the vehicle started spinning again.
Sweat poured off Torres’s forehead and his hands trembled so violently he couldn’t still them even by gripping on the steering wheel. It didn’t take a genius to figure out one of the delicate steps in their plan had gone terribly wrong.
Where’s Ellie? Please, not Ellie. She’s just a little baby.
Despite the speed of the car flying through the narrow streets, Sonny abandoned the idea of putting on her seat belt and reached into the backseat to touch Lucia. The stench of blood overwhelmed the car.
“Is she...”
Torres kept his eyes on the road. “Leave her.”
“But she needs help!” Sonny protested, tears stinging her eyes. “We need to help her.”
“Nothing can be done. She’s dead. I’ll take care of her body later.”
In horror, Sonny swallowed the bile making its way up her throat. She fought to find her voice. Then swallowed again. Torres’s daughter was dead.
“The…the baby?” she asked, choking back a sob. “Ellie?”
“Asleep under the shawl. Leave her be. She’ll be fine and no one will notice us as long as you turn around and act normal.”
“How is that possible?” There was so much blood. Sonny fought the urge to check Lucia just to see if Torres was wrong. Oh, please, let him be wrong. She forced herself to turn around and slip on her seat belt.
The older man glanced at her. “We need to get out of the city and to the airport right away. We don’t have time to stop.”
Sonny stole a quick glance over her shoulder at the bundle next to Lucia’s body and closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. She had the baby now. This was exactly what she’d come to Colombia to do. But the image of Lucia’s bloodstained body was imprinted in her mind and she wondered if the price of getting the baby had been too high. For Lucia and Torres, it had.
When she trusted her voice again, she asked, “What went wrong?”
“Nothing,” Torres said, his voice flat. “The extraction happened exactly as planned. Our contact, Angela, met us with the baby in her arms. She’s already on her way to the airport. In the next few hours she’ll be flying to Houston and will be put into a safe house.”
“I don’t understand. Then why?”
“An old debt has been repaid. We make enemies doing what we do. Lucia knew that. This had nothing to do with you or your family.”
Torres reached across the small confines of the car and pushed his rough palm against Sonny’s cheek with a force that hurt. “Hide your face.”
An oncoming police car sped toward them, lights flashing. She quickly turned her gaze to the floor. The car hit a pothole and she gripped the dash with both hands for support.
When the police car passed, she glanced back. “Do you think they were after us?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
Torres didn’t answer and when Sonny finally looked at him again, it broke her heart to see the man’s weary eyes steeped in pain, his weathered face momentarily contorted with grief.
He cleared his throat. “Do you still have them?”
“What?”
“The papers! Do you have the papers with you?” he said, his voice raspy. “We can’t waste time going back to the bungalow to get them or to have new ones made.”
“Yes. I have them. I was able to get the passport for the baby.”
“Good. Your only concern now is to get yourself and this baby on that plane back to the United States. When you get to the airport, buy some new clothes, get rid of what you have here and stay out of sight until you board. If you have to wait inside the bathroom, then do it. Don’t let anything stand in the way of you getting on that plane. Do you hear me? When you and Ellie are safe…only then will the sacrifice my daughter made will be worthwhile.”
Torres was right, she knew. But his words did nothing to dispel the guilt consuming her. She had begged Lucia for help, and now Lucia was dead. She had caused Torres and his family unimaginable pain with her loss.
Lucia had a son of her own who was barely four years old, she’d told Sonny on their first meeting. And a husband who disapproved of what she was trying to do, but had come to terms with the fact that his wife wanted to help parents fighting to get their children back from foreign countries because the other parent had taken them without custody.
Ellie wasn’t Sonny’s daughter. She was her niece. And Ellie’s father hadn’t kidnapped her. Lucia had told her several times du
ring their meeting in the market that it was too risky and too much could go wrong. Without a parental custody order, they didn’t have a leg to stand on. Yet Lucia had agreed to help rescue Ellie anyway when she learned of the circumstances behind Manuel Turgis’s association with Eduardo Sanchez, a notorious Colombian gangster who disguised himself as a prominent businessman in order to do his illegal dealings in the United State and Colombia.
Sonny’d had no choice in asking for Lucia’s help, of course. She’d been desperate to find any information about the whereabouts of her niece and was thrilled when her online digging expedition led her to information about the head of the Aztec Corporation’s new baby. A computer geek by trade, trained to hack into computer systems for large companies to ensure security or expose weaknesses, Sonny had found the proverbial needle in the haystack that led her to Ellie.
Her father’s coworker in the FBI, Julian McKinnon, had discovered a woman in the United States who had connections with Eduardo Sanchez and had intimate knowledge of the baby in his possession. Her connections had run of the house and knew the layout. But if they didn’t move quickly, both the baby and her brother Cash would be lost forever.
No one, not even those closest to Eduardo Sanchez, willingly questioned how this baby came to be in the household. Not if they wanted to continue breathing.
Sonny closed her eyes, fighting her desire to take the baby out of the backseat and cradle her in her arms. She wanted so much to hold Ellie, to lay her eyes on her for the first time and to see for sure that the picture Angela had risked sending was indeed the same baby. The one where the baby had her mother’s eyes.
Of course, that wasn’t the only way they’d confirmed that the baby in Eduardo Sanchez’s home was Ellie. They needed more than a picture. So during one of the baby’s feedings, Angela had taken Ellie’s little foot and pressed it against a glass to record her footprint. She’d slipped the glass in her pocket and took it with her when she’d left so she could mail it to Sonny’s father, who sent it to the FBI laboratory. The footprint matched the newborn footprints Ellie’s mother had made when the baby was born.
Angela had assured Lucia that she was being well taken care of. Still, Sonny had the desire to check the baby was strong and she couldn’t help but want to hold her. Did Ellie have Cash’s smile or her sister-in-law, Serena’s, exotic look? Did the baby still cry for her mother? It seemed so long since Sonny learned that Ellie had been taken from Serena’s family mansion in Eastmeadow, Massachusetts. And yet here was Ellie now, sleeping soundly in the backseat of the car.
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