Gideon

by Cherry Adair

  Not an option.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  He was quick, and far from stupid. Besides, as confident as she was in her ability to overpower him, in reality it was unlikely she’d get the drop on him. Especially since she knew he expected just that. She read his damned body language. He was braced for danger from every side, including, hell, especially, from her. The countdown in her head sounded like Big Ben.

  Sick to her stomach, she put one foot in front of the other. The residue of the last vision clung to the edges of her mind like a sticky, black tar.

  Whatever she was going to do, she had about forty minutes to do it. From the sparser pattern of the trees, she knew the road was dead ahead.

  Her earpiece crackled to life. Relief flooded her. The satellite had picked up her position. They weren’t exactly alone. T-FLAC knew where they were and had eyes in the sky.

  “Alpha.” Control’s voice was deep and even in her ear. “Four hundred yards to transpo. Northeast seventeen degrees.”

  The vehicle had been moved to a different location. A closer location. Riva adjusted the wrist GPS with the new coordinates. “Copy that.”

  “We have eyes. Target in cradle. I’m with you all the way. Try to maintain radio silence until you put the baby to bed.”

  “Copy that.” The connection went dead. She looked over at Gideon. “Maza is in camp. The truck is less than a quarter of a mile that way.” She was walking in the correct direction, but her feet felt weighted with lead.

  Gideon put a light hand on her forearm. Easy to throw off. He wasn’t restraining her, but his face said he was not opposed to exerting any strength necessary. “The answer to the burning question buzzing around in that clever mind of yours is no. You can’t get the drop on me. I’ll be extremely pissed if you attempt to tie me up and leave me on the side of the road, shoot me, or run me over. Forget trying to ditch me, Riva. You might have special training, but I can assure you that I, too, know what the fuck I’m doing. We’re going in there together.” He scanned her face. “We’ll leave together. And then we’ll deal with whatever this is between us.”

  “Nothing—”

  “Together,” he finished as if she hadn’t interrupted. “No arguments.”

  She gave him an innocent look. “I was just wondering which of us should drive?”

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  The road was packed red dirt, narrow, and riddled with potholes and tire tracks. “Poachers cleared this for easy access. Big bucks in exotic animals and of course parrots on the black markets, worldwide. Clearly the SYP use it now, as did we whenever we wanted to get into the city.”

  “Didn’t you have a chopper?”

  “Yeah. Only holds four. And since Maza’s arrival, we didn’t want to send up a flag showing our location. I was working on procuring several drones, but they hadn’t been delivered yet. The SYP has several that patrolled, hence the netting over the ANLF camp. I’m guessing that huge mountain of vegetation is our vehicle?”

  Transportation was a beat-up, green and white late eighties Ford pickup truck hidden in the trees and covered with foliage. Together they stripped off the vines and leaves that had camouflaged the vehicle. When it was clear, they saw the piles of mesh cages strapped down in the bed of the truck.

  “Either it belonged to poachers, or it’s an excellent cover. Your people know what they’re doing,” Gideon said, getting into the driver’s side.

  “Yes,” Riva answered. “We do.”

  He found the key in the ignition.

  The engine turned over with a purr, indicating it hadn’t been a factory upgrade. T-FLAC’s work.

  After a moment, Riva went around the front, and climbed in. “Turn around and head north. We’re an hour out.”

  He made a U-turn on the narrow road and headed up the mountain. The dry dirt kicked up in a cloud behind them. It had clearly been washed away, re-scraped, and washed away again. It wasn’t a road from anywhere other than Maza’s camp. There was nothing else up the side of the mountain.

  “We stick as close to the truth as we can,” Gideon told her, going onto the verge to avoid a large pothole. The tires bumped over scrub grass. “I’m your bodyguard, our chopper was shot down. We escaped death due to one of your visions, escaped from the ANLF with several of their captives, and walked out.”

  Smart. The three captives who were killed were excellent cover. “Where did we get the truck?” She let him weave the story. She had other things on her mind.

  “Stole it from an old man and his son who’d gone off into the jungle to trap parrots.”

  Riva dragged in a deep breath. “Will you promise me something?”

  “Depends.”

  “Please don’t do anything heroic.”

  “Querida, I am your hero. Heroic is what I do. If you didn’t want a hero, you should’ve hooked up with my brother.”

  “There are so many interesting observations in there, I don’t know where to start. You know you just said something about your brother? So what is he? An antihero?”

  He shook his head as if clearing it. “I have no idea. Don’t know where that even came from. All I know is I have one and he left me in the jungle, but I sure as hell haven’t seen him in the last few months.”

  “But you were found a thousand miles from here—”

  “The world, Riva. I’d have found my brother anywhere in the fucking world if he went missing. And I wouldn’t have stopped until I did.” His determination was evident in the solid line of his jaw, and the pulse that throbbed at his temple. He glanced at her, and the hard glint in his eyes told her he wasn’t bullshitting. “Or I’d have died trying. So do not ask me not to protect you. I might not remember much about my past, but I now know myself. I don’t leave anyone alone or behind to fend for themselves. I’ve got your back. We’re in this together and there is nothing you can do to get rid of me.”

  Yes, I know. I’m trying to figure out how to change that before it gets you killed.

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Gideon knew, by the thickness and oppression of the air, that they were in for rain in the next hour. Then all traces of their passing would be obliterated.

  Trees and lush vegetation crowded the dirt road, encroaching strategically, making it narrower and narrower as they approached Maza’s camp. Shrubbery almost obliterated the path between foliage and boulder outcroppings. It was barely wide enough for the truck to pass. Branches snagged the side windows, ran scraping fingernails along the sides of the vehicle, and rattled the undercarriage. The tires shimmied over loose rocks. Thick red dust plumed behind them, showing exactly where they were.

  Nothing subtle about being watched. For the last six miles, well-armed soldiers in camo stood every hundred feet along the way. Instead of a wide-open space so he could see his enemies approach, Maza had chosen to use the jungle to his advantage, and funnel visitors directly to his front door. No room to back up. No exit for a quick retreat.

  According to Riva, her T-FLAC people now had them in view via satellite. “It’s fucking all well and good, Riva, that your pals can see and communicate with you now, but we need to know if and how quickly they can reach you if…” he paused, changed his mind about saying when. “Hell breaks loose. No one is going to just stand around and let you walk up to Maza and take him down and then not retaliate.”

  “I have my orders,” she said, not bothering to look at him.

  “Can you clue me in, since I’m in this shitstorm with you?” His voice was controlled, but his anger battled with his worry that she was about to walk into an ambush.

  “You were given the choice to opt out. You chose to ignore me. Just stick close to me. Be ready for anything.” Now she did turn to look at him. “Or, get out of the truck now. It’s your last chance to walk away.”

  Nice set of choices. He didn’t bother responding. No need. She knew his answer and it fucking well wasn’t going to change just because she kept asking the question. They rode in silence for a few more minut
es.

  So her pals could see them get their asses kicked and heads speared on the flagpole from their damn satellite pictures in the comfort of their cozy offices. Great. Front-row seat to their slaughter. What the hell good did that do? Did they have any operatives close enough to fucking show up for all the fun and games if it turned into a goatfuck?

  He didn’t need the memory of how she’d reacted to that last vision to make him hyperaware of everything around them as they drove. Maza’s sentries stood with sniper rifles on outcroppings of rocks, and were perched strategically in treetops. And if those precautions weren’t enough, a plate-sized drone, fitted with a small camera and what looked like an automatic machine gun, hovered right above them.

  “Brilliant,” Gideon observed as the road took them around an enormous outcropping of rocks, revealing armed guards watching their progress through the viewfinders of what looked like an M47 Dragon missile launcher. “No one can turn around here either. One way and that’s in.”

  Riva gave her KA-BAR another wipe, then returned it to the leg sheath. “I’m just glad Maza’s in residence, and we don’t have to go all over hell and gone to find him.”

  “You hope he is. All this might just be a power trip. Maza could be hell and gone to the city to personally oversee whatever chaos is supposed to go down.”

  She’d spent the last ten miles fieldstripping every weapon they had between them. The interior of the truck smelled strongly of gun oil and solvent as the sun, shining in, baked the plastic seats. Since she’d cleaned them all last night, doing so again was unnecessary. But he got it. She needed to keep her hands and mind busy. He did the same thing. Cleaning his weapons allowed his mind to roam. Only his mind had been on a fucking short leash for the last five months.

  “You know it won’t be a cakewalk getting out of here with all these men.” He glanced over for a quick look at her face. Tense, but utterly calm. Stoic. Ready to face anything. Her skin gleamed with good health and a sheen of perspiration. The window, cracked a few inches, blew the loose strands of her hair around her face as she folded her clothes and put them neatly into her bag.

  Pulling her braid over her shoulder, she unraveled the lengths of black silk until her glorious hair spread like a cape over her shoulders. “T-FLAC has us covered. I’m not worried.”

  “Damn, you’re good. You managed to say that with a straight face.”

  “I’m not worried,” she repeated, eyes front, not a muscle in her entire body relaxed that he could tell.

  He eyed her loose hair. Glossy and wavy from being braided, silky soft as it spread around her to pool in the bends of her elbows. Gideon wanted to run his fingers through it. What he didn’t want was Escobar fucking Maza looking at her when she appeared this sexy and vulnerable. “You’re going in like that?” He hoped he was the only person who saw the vulnerability beneath her strength.

  “My hair, you mean? I don’t want anyone getting even a hint that I have an earpiece in. My hair covers that. Plus it gives the appearance I’m girlie, just like his psychic should be, don’t you think? Not someone who’d knock a guy on his ass if he messed with me.”

  Gideon smiled. “No man in his right mind will mess with you.” Not if he looked into her eyes first. And not, he promised her silently, if I’m alive to prevent it.

  A horn honked. Incongruous in the middle of nowhere. Riva put her hand on his arm. “Slow down even more. Vehicle pulling out on the right.”

  Yeah, he’d seen the glint of sunlight off glass a dozen yards back. A late model black Expedition pulled out of the trees ahead and pulled into the road ahead of them. Gideon had to tap the brakes as it eased in front of the truck’s bumper. Tinted windows gave no indication of the occupants. As the truck crawled past where the vehicle had intersected them, a second black SUV slid in directly behind them.

  “Game on,” Riva said dryly as they continued to drive sandwiched between the two vehicles. “I suspect they know who we are, and have for some time. And I suspect it wouldn’t matter. I bet they treat all their guests like this.”

  Because the truck’s windows, like the other two vehicles, were tinted, the drone that had followed them hadn’t been able to take pictures. And because it was a truck procured and enhanced by T-FLAC, Riva had told him that no one could overhear their conversation. No one but the T-FLAC bug in her ear, that was.

  The three vehicles rounded another corner as the road made an S. They passed high ground where more armed sentries with rocket launchers stood.

  Five or six miles farther on, the convoy stopped at a ten-foot-high rusted, corrugated iron gate, guarded by four men carrying AKs. The gate looked deceptively weak and flimsy. “Bet that’s reinforced with tungsten steel in back.”

  “No doubt.”

  Because of its extreme weight, the gate swung open slowly, and his suspicion of the reinforcement was confirmed. The small convoy passed through. A dozen more men were waiting for them inside.

  Low-slung buildings, similar to the cement block barracks at the ANLF camp, lined the narrow street and were nestled between kapok and Brazilian nut trees, giving a nice thick canopy overhead. Painted camo, the buildings blended with the landscape, flat roofs sprouted shrubs and hanging vines. The enclave was well-disguised. And very similar to what they had at the ANLF camp.

  “There’s no way this was built in five months,” Riva observed as they followed the SUV down the narrow road. “That’s when Maza arrived on the scene in Cosio, right?”

  “I was thinking the exact same damned thing. This place has been here for years, not mere months. Look at the vines on the walls. Several years.” Things grew fast in the rain forest, but many of the vines covering the building were twelve inches around and more. That said years.

  Ignoring Control’s directive to maintain radio silence, Riva spoke quietly into her mic, “You seeing this?” After a few seconds, she said, “Shit. That many?” Listened, then said “Copy that.” And continued staring straight ahead. “They estimate Maza has five thousand soldiers in this camp. Well-armed, and we already know well-trained. Restrain your macho, heroic tendencies. Let me do all the talking, and follow my lead. I am Graciela Estigarribia and you can be— Who would you like to be today?”

  “Dante Cordero.”

  “Dante Cordero. Bodyguard.” She was taut as a bowstring, vibrating with energy. He nodded. “I’m just the muscle, ma’am.”

  Riva huffed out a disbelieving laugh as the lead car slowed, then came to a stop in front of a vine-covered cement building that looked the same as all the others. “Showtime.”

  A couple of soldiers opened their respective doors. Riva slid out. “It’s hot and I’m thirsty,” she told the man near her, her voice deeper, and more coarse. “Inform el jefe that Graciela Estigarribia has come.” Her Spanish was fluent, colloquial, and imperious. She indicated Gideon on the other side of the truck. “He’s with me. Come.”

  Gideon presumed the order was for him, and went around the front of the truck to stand by her side.

  The man between them glanced at her, then Gideon, and back to her. “You will both wait here, señorita.”

  Her gaze went beyond him. “No. I will not wait here in the hot sun with all of these men staring at me.” Graciela was used to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed.

  Gideon suppressed a smile. Jesus, she was good.

  “I’ve come far. It has been a difficult journey. I’m an invited guest of Señor Maza. He will not be happy if you delay me any further or do not provide the courtesy of a cold drink, and shade. Now. You—” She raised her voice to get the attention of the soldier next to him. “Take us to Señor Maza. Immediately. He has waited long enough for the information he seeks.”

  “You have returned from the dead, to order my men around like a general, my dear Chela.”

  The man came up behind and around Gideon, and went to Riva, both hands outstretched. Sixties, well-preserved, slicked back black hair, silvering temples, slight, five seven, dressed in kh
aki chinos and a powder blue golf shirt. He read preppy, and not drug lord at all. Which was probably why the man was so successful. No one expected their golf buddy to pull out a Tondar submachine gun and blow their entire family away because of a drug deal gone bad. His teeth were very white, and liberally capped with gold. Other than a soul patch, he was clean-shaven.

  A Beretta in a tooled leather holster was strapped low on one hip, on his other was clipped a cell phone.

  Taking Maza’s hands, Riva gave him a big smile in return, all traces of tears gone. “Escobar! I feared I would not make it to you. If not for my visions telling me that I would reach you, I don’t know if I could have endured another day.” She shook her head, tossing her hair back off her shoulders. “I have much to tell you.”

  “I thought you were dead, Chela.” Soft spoken, and almost eerily smooth, he squeezed her hands, then leaned in to kiss her on each cheek. “I was told no one survived the helicopter crash, but I knew if anyone could, it would be you.” He smiled. “Come. I will listen to what you have to tell me, and give you food and drink.” Over his shoulder he motioned at the soldier standing beside Gideon.

  “No.” Riva tucked both hands into the bend of Maza’s elbow. “Dante must stay with me.” Lowering her voice to almost a whisper, “He is going to be your lucky charm, my dear. I will tell you.”

  Maza snapped his fingers for the soldier to bring Gideon along. A ballsy move from Riva, joining him to Maza’s good fortune. Brilliant. God, she was good.

  Riva accompanied Maza to one of the cement block buildings. It looked no different than all the others, with vine-covered cement and a door made from rusted metal. Reinforced, she suspected, like the front gate.

  He stopped at the door. Surrounding them were half a dozen of his men, and Gideon. “My men will take your weapons, and that of your man before we enter my home, dear Chela. You have nothing to fear. Everyone here is trustworthy.”