Crossfire

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “Exactly what kind of assignment?” Kel asked.

  “As you are aware, we have an operative inside Akil Ramir’s organization,” he began. “This operative’s contact, the man who has been running this covert op, had to be medivacked to the United States a few days ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “He had a massive stroke.”

  Kel shook his head in sympathy, but his voice was questioning. “I still don’t understand what you want from us. Why don’t you send in another one of your own people?”

  “Our operative is in deep, so deep that she has been ordered not to divulge any information to anyone besides her contact point. We’re hopeful that she’ll trust you.” He hesitated and nodded at Seth. “Lieutenant Johnson already knows her.”

  Seth shook his head, confused. “I don’t know anyone with the CIA.”

  “Yes, you do.” Rick Ellison said, his eyes serious. “Her name is Vanessa Lauton.”

  “Vanessa?” Seth stood abruptly, and his chair crashed onto its side.

  Rick’s eyebrows lifted. “So you do remember her.”

  “We went to high school together.” Slowly Seth shook his head, beyond stunned to hear her name in this context, especially after he had just been thinking about her. His cheeks grew warm as everyone continued to watch him, and he leaned down to right his chair before sitting back down. He blew out a breath and tried to steady the swirl of emotions rushing through him. “I haven’t seen her for years.”

  “Here’s a recent photograph.” Ellison pulled a glossy photo out of a file marked Top Secret. “She traded places with Lina Ramir about a year ago. Her handler was working out of the Dominican Republic when he got sick.”

  Seth took the photo and sucked in a breath. It was Vanessa, all right. She was older, certainly, but other than that she didn’t look much different. Her hair was longer now, cascading halfway down her back, but even in the photo he could see the glint of challenge in her eyes.

  How was it possible, he wondered, that Vanessa was now a spy? His heart raced at the prospect of seeing her again, and he thought of the many contrasts he had loved about Vanessa: the warmth of her friendship, her fiery temper, her quick wit. He was also reminded of why he no longer carried her photo. It hurt too much.

  Kel’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Are you saying you don’t know where the contact point is?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He nodded. “Our sources indicate that Akil Ramir owns a resort in Punta Cana. We think that’s where she’s staying. Our man was undercover at the Club Med there. Unfortunately we don’t know when or where they were meeting.”

  “If she’s really staying at the resort, we should be able to tail any cars leaving from there and hopefully find her that way,” Tristan suggested.

  “It may not be that easy. The types of people who stay at this resort are used to keeping an eye out for people following them. It’s going to take time, and we don’t know how much time we have,” Ellison told them. “Vanessa thinks something big is going on, but she hasn’t been able to piece together exactly what.”

  “That’s what these sneak-and-peeks have been about,” Brent said now as understanding dawned. “Trying to figure out what Ramir’s group is up to.”

  “I considered having some agents set up surveillance around the Punta Cana region, but I don’t want to take the chance that my people might get spotted. I’m trusting that your squad can blend in and find Vanessa so that we can insert another contact man for her,” Ellison said, his tone serious. His gaze landed on Seth. “You need to understand that Vanessa is not the first operative we have tried to insert into Ramir’s organization, but she is the only one who is still alive.” Ellison looked from Seth to Kel and added, “No one outside of this room has this information. It is strictly need-to-know.”

  Seth’s stomach clutched as he considered the risks Vanessa was taking, but he spoke with certainty. “We’ll find her.”

  * * *

  Vanessa stepped into the dining room and surveyed the guests sitting at the tables scattered around the room. She had deliberately taken her time in her office so that she would be late to dinner. When she scanned the room a second time, she felt a surge of anticipation. Halim was sitting at a corner table with four other men, their body language tense.

  When a member of the kitchen staff stopped to greet Vanessa, she granted him one precious minute of her time before picking up a plate at the end of the buffet counter. Her appetite was practically nonexistent, but she forced herself to load up her plate so she would have a reason to stay in the dining room.

  Casually, she headed across the room and felt Halim’s attention land on her for a moment. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then took a seat at the table beside his.

  The bullish man to Halim’s right leaned forward and lowered his voice as he spoke.

  Vanessa couldn’t hear what he said, but Halim’s words rang out clearly. “Don’t worry. She doesn’t speak Arabic.”

  Narain, the wiry man across from Halim, spoke now. “The timing on this is crucial. To have the maximum impact, the Americans can’t have time to evacuate.”

  “What kind of casualties can we expect?” Tod Zimmerman asked, his voice abnormally calm.

  “Worst case, in the thousands,” Halim said in a businesslike tone. Then evil flashed in his eyes. “Of course, we’re hoping for much more than that.”

  Vanessa forced herself to keep her eyes on her plate, forced herself not to react. All the while, she was hoping, praying that they would say more.

  “When do you have to get back?” Halim asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Zimmerman answered, his voice more nervous now.

  “Let’s finish this discussion in my office tonight,” Halim suggested. “The sooner we lay the rest of this groundwork, the better.”

  Vanessa stayed in her seat, listening as the men finished up their dinner and moved to leave. She nearly jumped when a hand came down on her shoulder and she heard Halim’s voice once more, only now he spoke in French. “Good night, Lina.”

  “Good night,” Vanessa said, hoping her voice sounded casual as she glanced up at him. As she watched him leave the room, she glanced at the clock on the wall. Just a few more hours and she could pass on this latest information. She only hoped that Granger wouldn’t be late tonight.

  * * *

  “She really does look a lot like Lina Ramir,” Kel said as he sat down at the worktable with the rest of his squad. Ellison had already finished his briefing and left them to work out a strategy. “I just can’t believe she’s been able to pull this off for so long.”

  Seth nodded. He tried to sound casual despite the worry that had settled deep inside him. “I guess it’s not that surprising considering her background.”

  “Exactly what is her background?”

  “Her grandparents lived with her when she was growing up. They were both from Morocco and spoke Arabic as often as not. In fact, that’s where I picked up a lot of what I know,” Seth informed them. “They also spoke French, which was the language her mother preferred. That’s also the language she studied in high school.”

  “Sounds like you know a lot about her,” Quinn said carefully, his dark eyebrows lifting.

  Seth nodded, a slow smile crossing his face. “She was my best friend in high school and college.”

  “You act like you were more than just friends,” Tristan said, his eyes lighting with curiosity.

  Seth spared Tristan a quick glance but didn’t comment further on his relationship with Vanessa. Instead he offered a different tidbit of information. “She’s also the first person I ever met who was Mormon.”

  “She’s LDS?”

  Again he nodded, but now the smile faded. “I had no idea she was working for the CIA. Last time I went to visit her family, I heard she’d gotten married.”

  “Apparently not.” Kel held up the file Ellison had given him. “It says in her file she’s single.” He set th
e file aside and then tapped on the map that was spread out on the table. “One way or another, we’ve got to figure out how to contact her.”

  Tristan’s easy Western drawl cut through the tension. “How about going for a sail?”

  Seth looked down at the map, nodding his head slowly. “A sneak-and-peek from the water?”

  “With the right equipment, we can get a lay of the land.” Tristan nodded. He looked up at Kel and grinned. “You know, my honeymoon got cut short for this assignment. If you want to send me and Riley in for a vacation, just say the word.”

  Kel looked at him, clearly considering. Even though Tristan’s wife, Riley, had worked with them in the past, she wasn’t trained in intelligence. Kel looked over at Brent, considered a moment longer, then said, “Brent, call Amy and tell her not to get on that Navy transport.”

  “What?” Brent’s dark eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d want her on this assignment.”

  “Oh, I do.” Kel nodded. “But she’s going to meet you in Florida on your way to Punta Cana.”

  Brent nodded instantly, a smile tugging at his mouth. “That works.”

  “Hey, I’m the one whose honeymoon was interrupted,” Tristan complained.

  Kel’s eyebrows lifted as he glanced in Tristan’s direction. “You were already at the airport ready to come home when we called you. How is that interrupted?”

  Tristan’s easy grin flashed once more. “I still had six hours before I had to report back in when you picked me up.”

  Kel shook his head and grinned as he motioned to Quinn. “Start getting our gear together. I want to get settled down there by tomorrow.”

  “What about Amy and me?” Brent asked.

  “I want the two of you to stay at the Club Med in Punta Cana. You should be able to convince everyone that you’re there for a vacation,” Kel told him. “I want you to figure out what Granger was using for transportation. Maybe we can narrow down where he and Vanessa were meeting.”

  “Uh, Kel. I don’t know about this,” Brent said hesitantly. “Amy’s never done any work undercover.”

  “I realize that, but no one is going to doubt that she is your wife,” Kel stated bluntly. “We mostly need her to give you a reason to be at the Club Med. Besides, it never hurts to have Amy’s take on things.” Kel turned back to Seth. “We may not have a lot of time here.”

  “I know,” Seth’s voice was low. “We need to get me inside.”

  “There may only be one way to do that.”

  Seth nodded in understanding. “I’ll grab my gear.”

  6

  “You’re doing what?” Halim’s tone was condescending and clearly annoyed.

  Vanessa’s chin lifted slightly. “You heard me. I’m going into town to do some shopping.”

  Halim glanced around the deserted resort lobby and then looked back at her. “This isn’t a good time.”

  “It’s never a good time,” Vanessa shot back, trying to squelch the nerves in her stomach.

  Time was running out, and her options were dwindling. She had to press for more information. Today she was doing just that by insisting on a shopping spree. “I’m down to three pairs of sandals, and my wardrobe could use a boost. Besides, I haven’t taken a day off in months.”

  “Make a list, and I’ll have Roberto go pick up a few things for you next time he goes out for supplies,” Halim insisted, referring to one of the pilots who was constantly flying in and out of La Playa.

  “I’m not having someone else buy me shoes.” The absurdity of the idea helped ease the waves of anxiety rolling through her. She stood a little straighter, imagining what the real Lina would do if she were denied such freedoms. “Besides, I’ll only be gone for a few hours.”

  “Lina, you can’t go today.”

  “Why not?” Vanessa let a little whine carry through her voice. “I never get to go out and have any fun.”

  Halim let out a frustrated sigh and glanced around once more. “We have an important shipment arriving in a few hours. Besides, you know that your uncle is very protective of you. In his line of work, he has to be.”

  “It’s not like you and Uncle Akil include me the way my father did.” Vanessa pouted. “Besides, we always have shipments coming through here.”

  Halim’s dark eyes narrowed. He stared at her for a moment and then lowered his voice. “Your uncle doesn’t want you linked to this. The Americans are still watching you. We can’t take a chance of them suspecting anything.”

  “The Americans are watching me?” The surety in his voice caused a ripple of fear to run through her. “Why do you think the Americans are watching me?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “Don’t tell me you have an American spying for you.” Sarcasm coated her voice, and she hoped it would hide the icy fear shooting through her. When Halim simply shrugged a shoulder, Vanessa added, “How do you know this person can be trusted?”

  “He has proven his loyalty.”

  Vanessa let out a sigh. “How much longer until I can go out again?”

  “Four weeks.”

  “Four weeks?” Vanessa’s eyes whipped up to meet his. “You expect me to stay on the compound for four weeks?”

  “Lina, it’s not safe,” Halim insisted.

  “The Americans aren’t going to do anything to me.” Vanessa folded her arms. “And my wardrobe isn’t going to last much longer. You’re going to have to let me have a few hours soon, or I’ll be walking around barefoot before the month is out.”

  Halim studied her for a long moment, then turned and walked away.

  * * *

  The Club Med wasn’t as glamorous as Amy had expected, but it was inviting just the same. She and Brent had already dropped their luggage off in their two-room suite and had changed into their swimming suits. With nothing but a room key and a small tube of sunscreen in the pocket of her shorts, Amy followed Brent through the open lobby area and down the steps onto the pool deck.

  She took in the beautiful scenery, the enormous pool, the palm trees swaying in the light breeze, and the beach a short distance away. Looking at a mother playing with her children in the pool it was hard to imagine that such evil could exist right down the road. Logically, Amy knew that her presence here in the Dominican Republic was primarily to help Brent look like a typical tourist. If only she weren’t so nervous that she would make a mistake and compromise their cover.

  Walking beside her, Brent took her hand. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Relax.”

  Amy looked up at him, wondering if she looked nervous or if he could just sense her unease. “I’m trying,” she whispered back. She took a deep breath, determined to act the part. Hoping her voice sounded light, she asked, “What did you want to do first?”

  “I thought we could take a sail if there’s a boat available.”

  “That sounds like fun.” Amy managed a smile as Brent gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

  He looked completely relaxed, even though Amy could feel his tension too. They crossed the pool deck and stepped out onto the beach. Lounge chairs and sunbathers were scattered among the palm trees, and more than a dozen guests were currently engaged in a game of beach volleyball. They skirted along the building that housed the snack bar and headed for a hut farther down the beach where a windsurfing class was taking place.

  Amy let Brent lead her toward two men who were standing at the edge of the hut, both wearing only swim trunks and sunglasses. Brent slowed for a moment, listening to the men speaking in French. Despite the fact that Brent was capable of communicating in their language, he spoke in English. “Excuse me. Can you tell us where we can check out a sailboat?”

  “Have you had lessons yet?” the shorter man asked, his accent thick enough that it took Amy a moment to decipher his words.

  Brent shook his head. “Not here, but I already know how to sail.”

  The man studied him for a moment and then gave him a nod. “The life vests are over there. You both need to put one on
before you go out.” He then pointed at the red buoys in the water. “You need to stay inside of the markers at all times.”

  “No problem.” Brent signed the clipboard the man offered him and then motioned to the three tiny sailboats moored in the shallow water. “Does it matter which one we take?”

  “Take number five,” he said, noting it on the paper Brent had handed back to him.

  After stashing their shoes and the towels Brent was carrying into little cubbies in the back of the hut, Brent and Amy donned their lifejackets and crossed the hot sand to the water.

  As they stepped into the surf, Amy let herself soak up the atmosphere. An old shipwreck lay on some rocks a short distance away just beyond the buoys. The old vessel reminded her of pirates and days of old. A seagull cried in the distance, and the sweet smell of the salt water washed over her.

  “Are you ready?” Brent asked.

  “I think so.” Amy nodded.

  Brent helped her get situated in the tiny boat before unclipping the lines that held it in place. A moment later he was sitting beside her and telling her to duck as the sail swung over her head and they began to pick up speed.

  “I’m surprised the sailboats aren’t bigger.”

  “Me too.” With his hand still on the rudder, he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss and then winked at her. “But I’m sure we can manage.”

  Amy smiled and turned her face into the wind. She reminded herself that the mission Brent had been given had little to do with Akil Ramir and his associates; instead, it involved some rather innocent snooping. For the first time since their arrival, she felt herself relax. Brent steered past another sailboat that nearly capsized before the occupant managed to balance the boat in the nick of time. He then cleared a couple in a canoe and headed toward the outer buoys.

  “I guess we can eliminate boats as a possible mode of transportation for Granger to get to the contact point,” Brent commented.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Amy agreed.