Hard Target

by Barbara Phinney

  She climbed out of the small armored car and peeled off her sunglasses. The stench of aviation fuel slammed into her, carried south by a hot Andean wind. Blinking away the dust, she scanned the red-daubed hillsides on either side of the narrow valley. Even this early in the morning, a haze of pollution hung over the city.

  With a quick swipe, she dusted off her pants. She'd chosen her best outfit, a pale blue linen suit, and suddenly found herself annoyed by the extra pains she'd taken. She didn't wear her uniform to the embassy because she'd stick out like a sore thumb. But today, she wished for the security it offered.

  On normal workdays that consisted mostly of changing safe combinations or helping with bank runs, she wore a more durable outfit. Sturdy pants, a starched shirt, something to show the world there was more to her than honey blond hair and a slim body.

  But today wasn't a normal day. She strode across the broken pavement and into the hot terminal, knowing full well the jet fuel smell clinging to her came from the small plane that had just delivered the one and only Taylor Hastings.

  Soldiers milled in front of the observation window, curious at the sight of the small military aircraft. A garbled message blasted over the public address, something she doubted she would understand even if she were fluent in Spanish.

  She stopped herself from checking her appearance in the darkened, taped window of the terminal's lone office. She looked fine. Everything was fine, even the makeup she'd applied, convincing herself she needed the foundation because of the dry, dusty heat the locals tried to call winter. Of course. Yeah, right.

  And she refused to be intimidated by the man who had slipped away with her at that fateful end-of-course party three years ago. She refused to think about how he'd grabbed her and begun a very expert lovemaking in his staff car while it idled in the parking lot, and how he'd grinned wickedly when she'd tunneled her fingers through his dark brown wavy hair.

  She refused to think of the way he'd betrayed her. The next day, she'd been disciplined for fraternization, while he remained an instructor, with not even a slap on the wrist for his part in their breech of protocol.

  A hot breeze filtered through the crowd ahead, and she straightened her shoulders. The terminal doors opened and a half dozen or so servicemen poured inside.

  Dawna spotted Tay. He stood head and shoulders above the shorter Bolivians. Quickly, she steeled herself against an onslaught of emotions and heady attraction.

  Those feelings still existed, after all these years.

  To say Tay Hastings was handsome would be a lie. Dawna didn't know what exactly she found so appealing, so...so tempting. He made her feel as if she was driving in this country's craziest city during rush hour when drivers rarely stopped at red lights. A kind of anxious state when she couldn't blink, let alone breathe. Yes, that's how Tay Hastings made her feel.

  And right now he was striding forward to meet her.

  Tay saw her instantly.

  For one insane, inappropriate moment, he allowed himself the luxury of remembering the few, stunning minutes they'd shared in his staff car.

  Heavy petting, the hormone-driven teenager inside of him would have called what they did. Too bad it hadn't been more.

  Was that why he'd grabbed the opportunity to see Dawna one more time? It couldn't have been to somehow right the wrong done to her, the wrong he'd done to her, could it? He'd already tried that damn route, and when the stubborn ass over as CO he'd dealt with refused, he'd tossed his badge on the man's desk, and stalked out.

  His gaze locked with Dawna's over the dark heads of the shorter locals. She was as sunny blond as always, her lithe, strong frame made even more graceful against the backdrop of a cracked cement wall whose only adornment was a sign probably telling all service personal to report to the counter.

  Dawna wore a lightweight pantsuit, with short sleeves and cinched at the waist. She looked like she'd stepped out of a trendy catalogue.

  Her eyes were older, wiser, guarded, but their soft blue-gray color still snagged his attention and pulled it through the tense air between them.

  Throughout the entire time he'd instructed her, he'd felt as if he'd been tied to a lifeline and dragged through choppy waters to a lifeboat. He wasn't the nautical type, and using the reference in this landlocked country sounded just plain stupid, but none of that calmed the unexpected and unwanted waves buffeting inside of him whenever he'd met her crystalline eyes.

  Dawna remained unsmiling, and he wouldn't blame her one bit if she stalked over to punch his lights out and didn't speak two words to him the entire time he was there.

  He deserved a whole lot worse.

  Shifting his attaché case to his other hand, Tay quickened his pace across the terminal. He didn't stop until he reached her.

  "Dawna."

  "Tay. Good flight?"

  She'd followed his example and avoided the formality of rank, but her words were cool. Regardless, it was a start.

  A pretty good start, considering his face remained unslapped and she'd actually uttered three words to him. "Yes, thank you. You look well."

  She glowed with a slight tan that tried to mimic the soft, golden hair she'd tucked into a bun. She looked better than well, exactly as he remembered. And he'd remembered it plenty of times in the last three years.

  "You better grab your luggage. We haven't got all day." She spun around and strode toward the single, creaking carousel.

  Tay remained where they'd stood, watching her supple grace, wondering again why she'd accepted such a desolate posting in the middle of South America. An embassy posting was usually a coup for an MP, but only if one could skate in after the hard work was done.

  He'd reread her file on the plane. She'd grown up north of Toronto. Warm summers, cool crystal lakes, and lush forests to explore with her father before he'd died. The childhood he should have had, instead of the lonely one he'd spent in a seedy Ottawa apartment with his embittered mother.

  So what drove Dawna to oversee the construction of this new embassy's security features, when other Military Police had flatly turned the posting down?

  Because she'd been hand-picked by the Ambassador to hire his security staff and prepare for his arrival?

  Maybe.

  But Tay could guess the real reason. She had something to prove to the MSGU.

  And to him.

  Dawna stopped and turned, a question in her icy blue eyes. "You do have luggage, don't you?"

  He blinked, casting aside his speculations as he followed her. "Yeah, one suitcase. I've learned to travel light."

  She said nothing.

  A line of mixed luggage plopped onto the ancient, protesting carousel. One of the terminal's security officers unleashed a small mutt, and the animal sniffed each piece of luggage. The embassy could have used an explosive sniffing dog a few days ago, Tay mused.

  The dog returned to its master. Nothing unusual today.

  His suitcase caught his eye. When it reached him, he hauled it off.

  Dawna spoke, her voice tight. "The car's outside. I'll brief you on the way. Let's go." She strode away, leaving him to follow or be stranded there.

  A wry smile tugged on one corner of his mouth at her actions. He'd been all over the world. Getting stranded here in a nice little city like Cochabamba didn't worry him.

  Outside in the glaring sun, he took a moment to slip on his sunglasses. In Ottawa this morning, the temperature had been a pleasant twenty-four degrees, but here, despite this month being their deepest winter, he already felt hotter than he'd been for ages.

  Yeah, hotter than he'd been for three years, if the truth be told.

  They walked to the car in silence. Dawna unlocked both doors on the passenger side first before interpreting his frown. "No auto locks on armored cars. Too easy to find the frequency."

  She then watched as Tay pulled open the door. He found it surprisingly heavy.

  She walked around the hood to the driver's side. "You'll have to use both arms to close the door."


  After shoving his luggage into the backseat, he settled in beside her and glanced out the thick windshield. The bullet-proof glass, at least an inch thick, distorted the world around them, giving the dusty, hilly landscape an even more amber hue.

  "The Liechtenstein of South America," he murmured. "Why would people bother coming here to plant bombs?"

  "If you can't answer that question yourself, then you may as well go home," Dawna retorted.

  Tay drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with her light perfume. Incredibly, the scent tore him away from the immediate and back three long years.

  ...when he tasted the warm skin of her neck, feeling the hum of the engine vibrate through the both of them, his body reacting to the crush of her breasts against his torso.

  Three years ago, she'd worn the same soft perfume-

  "There's a lot of potential here in Bolivia, for good and bad," she continued, slicing through his thoughts. "Sure this region is the poorest, but there's zinc and silver under those mountains and several companies have already started mining it. Plus, there's oil to the west and farmland everywhere else. Not to mention that there are some pretty good wines here."

  A short smile twitched at Tay's mouth. He had barely heard her lecture, focusing instead on her perfume. Jet lag, he blamed. "And that's reason enough for terrorists to come?"

  She shot him a hard look. "I thought you liked wine."

  A subtle reference to that one disastrous evening, he thought with irritation. She'd consumed her share of whiskey and he'd had far too much wine. "I don't drink anymore."

  She turned her attention to her driving. "Then you shouldn't have bothered to come. The coffee's too strong, you'll hate the coca tea and you'll get sick of the juice pretty fast. Not to mention the altitude."

  She was goading him, and they both knew it. Challenging him to try to stay here for any length of time. "I'll manage. Why don't you update me on the investigation? Anyone claimed responsibility?"

  Dawna pulled out onto the main road. "No. The local police gave us a full report and have allowed us to send the evidence away for testing. The repairs to the outer door are just about complete."

  Her usual efficient self, he noted. She'd been efficient to a fault during her training, focusing on the task at hand with riveting concentration.

  She'd been efficient, riveting even, in his car, too.

  He shoved aside the intense memory. "I need a list of all the staff's whereabouts at the time of the blast. It may point to the target. Still have sixteen on staff?"

  She tossed him a cool look, her right eyebrow arched ever so slightly. Hadn't she expected him to have done his homework, and know how many staff members they had? "The Immigration Section has arrived. We hired two local secretaries this past week for them. Lucy Porter, the Ambassador's secretary, had been doing the extra paperwork, but not since the Ambassador arrived."

  Of course. Everything had to be in place before Dennis Legace even packed his suitcases. And with the embassy willing to accept refugees, Immigration would need Lucy Porter’s help.

  Dawna pressed down hard on the accelerator and the heavy vehicle glided over the bumps on the rough pavement toward the highway. He could feel the powerful engine push the car up to the speed limit. He snapped his gaze over his shoulder. The airport faded into a landscape dotted with scrubby trees and mud-plastered buildings that still war campaign slogans from the last election.

  On either side of the valley were deeply scored hills. What rain they get must come in short, heavy bursts. He faced forward again. "The personnel list should include locals. How many security guards?"

  "Five," Dawna answered. "And they're called vigilantes here. Don't worry, you'll get your list. But we'll take Miguel Ramos around with us. He's been here the longest and speaks fluent English. We'll need him to translate."

  And to chaperone? Tay asked himself. He doubted Dawna wanted to be alone with him. Hell, he wasn't sure he wanted to be alone with her, either. He hadn't been a complete monk these last three years, and was old enough to control his own body. But considering the intensity of his initial reaction to her...well, a chaperone might be a damn good idea.

  "Who was around when the blast occurred?" he asked, attempting to focus on the present, immediate problem.

  "Ramos had just finished his shift and Alfonse Marconi had just started."

  "Where were you?"

  Her expression turned chilly. "I was driving up the street toward the embassy."

  "At six in the morning?"

  "I'd planned on catching up on paperwork before the Ambassador arrived." With a rigid spine and tight line to her mouth, she added, "I was expecting him to sleep in."

  "Why?"

  "Because we had attended a function the night before at the Vice-President's home. It ran late."

  "You didn't sleep in?" Tay lifted his eyebrows.

  Dawna's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "No. Like I said, I'd decided to get some work done in peace."

  "Did anyone else know that?" A lover, perhaps?

  "No. I woke up early and decided then. I think you can rule me out as a possible target. And the Ambassador thinks you should rule him out, also."

  "What do you think?"

  She slanted a calm, knowing look at him. "I told the Ambassador the device may have been planted to test our response."

  Not good. "Which suggests another attack will follow."

  "Exactly. We're staying at full alert until further notice. All according to Standing Orders."

  The Standing Orders he'd written. Tay ignored the barb.

  By now, they'd entered the thick of the city.

  His attention moved to the north, where the sides of the valley bowl that contained Cochabamba stood tall. He spied a small, neat sign indicating the way to the embassy, but Dawna turned in the opposite direction, entering the concrete labyrinth of Spanish influence storefronts.

  His gaze flew over to her. "Where are we going?"

  "To your hotel."

  "I would prefer to stay at the embassy."

  "It's an embassy, not the Holiday Inn."

  "But you've housed refugees in the bomb shelter," he reminded her, his jaw tightening.

  She threw him an exasperated look. "Refugees will take any roof over their heads."

  "I don't need anything fancy."

  "Good, because the best hotel here isn't much." She pulled a key out of her pocket. "I've already checked you in."

  Tay sat back and pursed his lips. Yeah, he got it. Dawna didn't want him in the embassy any longer than necessary. "If you want me to get my inspection and investigation out of the way as soon as possible, then take me to the embassy. We'd get more work done if you're not chauffeuring me around."

  "I won't be. I'll assign you a driver. And you're not helping me with my investigation."

  Without waiting for his answering argument, she pulled up in front of a plain, ugly concrete building. The only redeeming feature was the delicate wrought iron on the long narrow balcony above the entrance. The Hotel d'Oro was as unlike the gold in its name as anything he'd ever seen.

  Tay could hear the sounds of unmuffled cars and honking horns, even with the bullet-proof doors closed and the air-conditioning humming. Despite the immediate reaction to order her to take him to the embassy, there was an incredible urge to throw open the heavy door and escape into the busy city.

  Escape? Forget it.

  Dawna interrupted his thoughts. "You'd better get out. I'm taking up too much space on this narrow street. And you're not staying at the embassy, Tay. You're only here because the MSGU thinks I can't do my job. Well, I can and I'll prove it. So you can check the locks and the alarm system and read all the orders and tomorrow, book your flight home."

  Had he not been living on wits and instinct for the last three years, he'd have decided she didn't need him.

  But for one fleeting moment before she turned her head away, a suggestion of wariness flickered over her features. Not anger.
Not fear at being dismissed and repatriated back to North America in disgrace.

  Just a wisp of wariness.

  A part of him had come here to find out if she was okay. Outward appearances considered, she looked great, but could her self-assurance just be a shield? During the course he'd instructed, she hadn't shown any need for a shield. She'd been the model cop.

  He'd figure it out later. With that, he leaned back. "We both know there isn't another flight out of here for ten more days."

  "There are daily flights to La Paz." She stared into the traffic. "Better book one now."

  The MSGU had already booked his flight home, through La Paz, actually, but Tay wouldn't give her a set timetable in which she could operate a tight schedule of diversions. He shoved open the door, then pulled open the rear door to grab his luggage. "Drive around the block while I drop my bag off in my room. We're going to the embassy." Then he shut them both doors before she could refuse him.

  Fifteen minutes later, with Tay beside her, Dawna threaded the big car through the heavy traffic toward the embassy.

  "If we were walking, we'd be there in ten minutes. Because we have this beast, on this side street, it'll take us half an hour."

  "Just drive." He didn't want to think of how long he would be inside this bullet-proof car, alone with Dawna.

  Finally, after twists and turns through the maze that was the city center, the embassy appeared ahead.

  A vigilante opened the wide vehicular doors and they drove through them and around to the rear of the embassy.

  The courtyard within the city block surprised him. Around them stood several large buildings, all but one had access from inside. In front of the remaining apartment he could see an eight-foot chain link fence and several rows of barbed wire, and resting on top was a long, dangerous coil of concertina wire. All of this stood 18 inches from a stone wall that bore jagged glass shards embedded in the cement at the top of it. No one was getting into this embassy.

  Flush against the main building at the rear of the courtyard sat a large security cage, big enough to house three armored vehicles. Two were already backed neatly inside.