by Liliana Hart
Brady ran his fingers through his hair. He paced along the balcony while taking a glance back inside for Elena.
“Brady, this has to be one of the dumbest things you’ve ever done. How the hell can you think it’s okay? Do you not realize what the cartel has done to our family?”
The scenario at hand was surreal. Brady, a highly trained SEAL, was in a foreign country on a horribly fake passport trying to battle the cartel, while Declan, who was in another foreign country without operational credentials, was trying to save nine warriors chased by deadly indigenous rebels. Had it been any other two men, the reality would be lost to fantasy or imagination.
“Maybe so, but it was either we go with her or she was coming alone.”
“We?” Declan shouted.
Brady pinched his unbuttoned cotton shirt with his thumb and middle finger to fan himself. Sweat appeared—nervous sweat.
“Uh, yeah. I asked Audrey and Archer to come along.” Brady collapsed into a wicker chair. “Come on, Dec. You know we couldn’t let her go alone. After all she’s done for us, and we weren’t there for her. What choice did she have? What choice did I have?”
“I’m on my way there.” Declan’s tone shifted.
“No need, bro. Alpha Team is priority.” Brady stood back up and leaned over the balcony.
“The nine men were never in jeopardy. Elena actually did save their asses, and they made it back to an exfil site where a bug-out chopper hauled them off to the embassy.”
Brady took a relieved breath and stepped back into the lavish suite to tell Elena the good news, but he stopped short. He thought he heard water running and he swore he heard crying. He hated that she was dealing with so many emotions, but he knew she’d rather do so privately. So he gave her the space she needed and focused on Declan’s concern.
“I’m sorry I put everyone in a fix.”
“Brady, don’t be sorry. You did the right thing. I guess in hindsight I did jump down her throat. All I was worried about at the time were the men and the contract. I should’ve trusted her judgment.”
“No problem. We’ll work all of this out.”
“I feel like I failed her,” Declan said.
Brady could hear the regret in his friend’s voice. He knew how caring Declan was, and also how committed he was to the people who worked for him. “Declan, you’ve shown your appreciation in more ways than words. She knows how you feel.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Let’s move forward.”
“Shane and I will be there in less than a day.”
“Dude, that’s a twenty-one-hour flight.”
“If you’re on commercial. Like I said, Shane and I are on our way. Can y’all hold tight?”
Brady’s chest tightened. He knew the truth—Elena’s patience had run out.
“I don’t think we’ve got that luxury.”
“I understand. We’re coming anyway. Do the best you can to minimize the damage.”
“I’m trying, but they hold a big card over our heads.”
“I can’t imagine what Elena or her niece are going through. Have you tried negotiating directly with the cartel?”
“No. She’s managed the comms via the encrypted texts.” A fact that they still had to address.
“See if you can plug yourself into the process. My money is your money. Spare no expense.”
“Thanks, Declan, but you know it’s the data they want. Theirs and ours.”
“I see, but between us only. That is nonnegotiable.”
Brady dropped his eyes. “Understood.”
Brady ended the call. He gulped a swig from what was left of his champagne. He needed to take stock of what was happening. Was he too close? In less than forty-eight hours, he’d accompanied his heart’s crush to Mexico like a love-sick puppy to fight one of the deadliest cartels on the planet. Not only that, but he’d commandeered a MacKenzie Security jet, the pilot, and two employees. And, with no real plan, he’d kept it all a secret from one of the best men he knew.
He kicked his feet onto the railing and drew another gulp. The warm winds brushed against his face, but his mind raced over his conversation with Declan.
“We gotta pull back and think this through,” he whispered.
“Pull what back?” Elena challenged him.
His feet flopped to the floor, and his momentum knocked the champagne bottle over without breaking. He watched the liquid pour out instead of facing her.
“Tell me, Brady. What are you planning now?”
Elena faced him, fists at her hips. He tried to reach out for her but she kicked at the bottle and walked back inside the suite. He had to handle this the right way—objectively.
“Elena, can we discuss this without the emotion?” He held his hands up.
“Without emotions? Are you serious? That’s my family you’re talking about.”
Brady bit at the inside of his cheek because he knew it was all a mistake. There’d be no controlling Elena during the mission. Her emotions were understandably connected, and in hindsight, he shouldn’t have allowed her to maintain the cell phone messaging. His heart hurt for her. He wanted to rush into that guarded compound and murder every one of those bastards, but he knew better.
“Elena, you’re in over your head. I’m begging you to let us handle this. It’s what we do. We will get her back safe. I swear on my life.”
“You just said you wanted to pull back. What does that mean? Go back to Surrender and wait it out?” she asked, on the verge of hysteria.
“Look at yourself,” he barked.
It was his command voice, usually reserved for undisciplined recruits and cocky criminals. But she needed to get a grip—and fast. Stunned, she stopped.
“Open up. Y’all okay in there?” Archer banged on the adjoining interior door.
Brady eased the door open. “Yeah, it’s okay. Just going over a few details for tomorrow.”
“She can’t handle it,” Audrey said, assessing Elena as if she were something smudged on a slide under a microscope. “She’ll do something stupid and get us all killed. But, what the hell. Here I am making sacrifices for my friends instead of taking vacation time with my husband. Maybe we’ll get to spend some time together in the same body bag.”
“Audrey,” Archer said. “Everyone’s tempers are high. Let’s sleep it off.”
Elena watched her arm cock back and throw the crystal champagne flute against the wall, almost like an out-of-body experience. She regretted it as soon as she did it. She was only trying to save her niece. It wasn’t her plan to get anyone killed, and if they’d all listened and stayed home, it wouldn’t even be a possibility.
“That’s enough,” Brady said. “Audrey is right. Your emotions are going to get us all killed. You’re done with this. You’ll hand over the encrypted cell and let the rest of us handle the mission.”
“I’d like to see you try,” she whispered.
“You honestly think you’re in any position to take on the cartel?”
“Then go home, Brady. Just go home.” She started back toward the bathroom.
“Okay, I will. But ask yourself how you’d handle this. You’ve managed high-stakes ops for years now. If your team was in this fix, what would you do? Didn’t you just report that Titus’s unwillingness to listen was what caused his fall? How is what you’re doing any different?”
Elena looked as if she’d been slapped. She didn’t say a word, but instead, turned on her heel and walked into the second bedroom of their suite, shutting the door behind her. Brady heard the click of the lock and knew it was no use to pursue her.
Maybe the morning would bring clarity for them both.
Brady changed into a pair of old gym shorts and pulled off his T-shirt. While he brushed his teeth, he saw his cell phone buzzing. It was a message from Archer. Elena was officially off the mission, and he, Audrey, and Brady would meet at 0700 for breakfast to decide a workable plan.
Chapter Ten
Zero three h
undred hours.
“Here goes nothing.”
Elena was careful to slip through the luxury suite. It was only three in the morning. She brushed her hands over her wrinkled clothes. Trying to save time and remain quiet, she’d slept in the clothes she would wear to venture out. She also figured brushing her teeth would really be less than a wise use of time, and knew that Brady would awake at the slightest noise.
She tiptoed through the living area. The door to Brady’s bedroom was still closed. It was a quick step into the common foyer and to the elevator. She felt a snake of excitement up her spine and dread that weighed like lead in the pit of her stomach. She watched the lights blink and the elevator click off floors as it climbed to the twelfth.
Elena hopped over the threshold and her finger quivered as she jabbed it toward the lobby button. Although it only took a few seconds for the double doors to slide securely closed, she held her breath. She wouldn’t have been surprised had Brady or one of the other two appeared in the door to stop her.
She collapsed against the far wall and exhaled as the doors slid shut and she felt the slight disjoin between her feet and the elevator floor as it rapidly descended. Her knees flexed as the metal box stopped and the doors jiggled without opening. Suddenly, she clutched her chest. What if Brady had taken the stairs and was waiting for her? She held her breath as the same doors that had provided her escape now offered potential betrayal.
The coast was clear.
Elena cat-walked through the vast and luxurious lobby, waving awkwardly at the attendant on the main door. He immediately struck her as peculiar. About five feet and five inches, he seemed to carry himself much taller. Sinister instead of swarthy, his glare tempted her to find another exit. Instead, she persisted.
“Good morning, ma’am. Early start?” the man asked.
“Good morning. I like to take an early morning walk.” She nipped at her fingernail.
“But it’s a quarter after three.” His face sported a curious expression.
She crossed both arms tight to her chest. “I guess I still have jet lag. Not used to the time change.” She chuckled.
“True. Be careful, and please remain on the property.” He spoke in a slight whistle.
“I’ll try.”
“Try hard, ma’am. We cannot guarantee your safety once you leave the property.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Elena rushed out through the revolving door.
She sensed his eyes were still glued to her. It caused her skin to pimple in goose bumps. She wanted to look back, but her body turned rigid with a sudden fear of being alone. She bent down to pretend to tie her shoe and peeked beneath her elbow. He was gone.
Elena fired up her phone’s run tracker app and waited for yesterday evening’s route to upload. It was almost five miles, but she knew that as the crow flew, it was much shorter. She decided to give the most direct route a try.
Next, she checked her Cryptocat app to see that the cartel had sent yet another message. It was a continuing escalation of threats. She knew they were close to running out of patience. While they wanted the data from the MacKenzie Security’s RMS, they were also volatile enough to cut off their own nose to spite their face without giving it a second thought.
Elena’s steps fell heavy and uncertain as she traversed the immaculately manicured resort complex. She greeted staff along the way toward the outer edges. Each face was examined to ensure there wasn’t a repeat of the door attendant. He still creeped her out. What if he worked for the cartel?
Elena arrived at a braided rope with a sign in both English and Spanish warning guests not to leave the protected property. She looked back and wondered if she should wait for the other three. A hard exhale and she steeled her thoughts to move forward. Their hesitations might jeopardize Marguerite’s life. She’d not be a party to that hesitation.
Her sense of vulnerability was incredible the second her left foot touched down on the other side of the rope. It was as though an entirely dark world had just shifted against her. She also noticed another sign on the opposite side. It pleaded with guests to return to the property. That warning was obviously for people who didn’t have lives to save.
Her first two unexpected challenges were the density of the jungle’s brush and the complete absence of light. Of course the only light she had was the cell phone’s flashlight. She hesitated to use that because it would soon drain her battery.
Elena began to pull and thrash through the thick matrix of vines and foliage. She tried her best to move quietly, but in the brief moments of silence she was reminded of the abundant reptilian existence. She decided she’d just not think about their slithery, cold presence and make her way toward the other side.
Zero three forty hours.
Elena hadn’t gone a quarter mile before she felt herself tumbling down a steep and unstable bank, directly into a ravine. Her head was jerked up and back by what felt like a low-hanging vine. Sharp palm fronds sliced into her skin like razors and both feet were rendered useless by the thicket of roots and foliage underfoot. Elena groaned as she continued to fall but she refused to scream.
She landed in a watery pitch. It felt and smelled like a muck of mud and stagnant watershed drainage. Her left ankle burned but she was even deeper below the canopy and it was darker still. She’d dropped her cell phone during the tumble. Elena felt the first tear begin to well up in the corner of her eye. No freaking way—she jammed her muddied palm against her cheek—too much to do for tears.
She was in a jam.
Elena sat and tried to calmly assess herself for injuries other than her left ankle. Sure, she felt the stings of cuts to her skin. The vine that clutched her throat had left a singed brush burn, as best she could tell. She felt the dripping wetness from what had to be her blonde wig that had jostled crooked over her skull. She grabbed a handful of the fake hair and tore it off.
She was soaking wet and caked in what she thought was mud. She gingerly pressed her left foot against what ground she could find that didn’t absorb her shoe with the slightest of pressure. It seemed like she’d be able to move on it, but it was going to hurt like hell.
It was darker than closing her eyes. Elena craned her neck to look at what she assumed was up, but there were no indicators of which way led to back out. It was still hours from daylight, and even on the sunniest of days, the thick covering of jungle shielded the ground from the light.
“Time to think like Brady,” she whispered. “What would he do?”
Suddenly the frigid scales of something disgusting crawled across her right hand where it supported her body.
“Screw this,” she squeaked out and shook her hand furiously.
Elena made a best guess and began to claw her way out. It did no good to stand. The slope’s grade was too steep to move up, but at least she knew it meant elevation. Her hands slapped against sloppy muck, while the weight of her torso caused each knee strike to submerge her thighs deeper into the abyss.
Red hot pricks across each forearm paralyzed her. She knew instantly that she’d maneuvered through an ant pile. Painful at best, deadly at worst, if covered by them. She kept moving and instead of swiping at what couldn’t be seen, she smashed the fiery feelings in her forearms into the coolness of the murky earth.
“Damn ants,” she murmured.
At least she’d hoped they were ants and not the indigenous spiders or, even worse, scorpions. Staying still wouldn’t answer her question, nor would it help ease her pain. She continued to plow her way up the incline.
“No way,” she laughed.
Up about another ten feet was the soft glow of what she knew to be her cell phone. Either that or it was one giant, rectangular-shaped firefly. It encouraged her to know she was moving along the right path. She coddled it like an old friend and fought the temptation to shine its light on her wounds.
Elena knew her time was running out. Once Brady discovered she was gone, he’d hightail it to the golf cart. For all she knew, he could�
��ve already been there. She kept her head low and trudged through the same wiry matrix of natural obstructions that plummeted her in the first place. From the time on her phone’s screen to the time she crested onto a trail, it was about another twenty minutes.
Zero four thirty hours.
Elena swatted at her clothes but she only felt the boggy saturation. The morning sun would soon take care of that, and she dreaded the baked feeling. Then she huffed while standing on the trailhead because she realized how much time had been wasted. And if she was honest with herself, she was completely lost. The run tracker app only presented the route she’d taken yesterday. It didn’t give reroute directions like a car’s GPS navigation system.
She was, however, able to see the beacon of lights that radiated from the resort. She’d follow that back to the ropes and start over. It would take her another twenty minutes to backtrack to the point of initial entrance. She felt the press of time lost and that Brady would soon be up and on his way to intervene. Elena limped on her injured ankle. She knew enough to stay close to the edge just in case she detected a threat.
She ducked into the bushes as she saw something breaking the variances between light and dark. It was a person. She glared into the void. Whoever it was seemed to be walking around just on the outside of the resort’s security barrier. Was it that same creepster from inside the lobby? It sure wasn’t Brady. Although she couldn’t identify who it was, this person was maybe five feet and six or seven inches. Brady’s six-foot-two-inch frame would’ve dwarfed this shadowy figure.
Once the coast was finally clear, she ambled closer to what would have to become her new starting point toward the golf carts. An avid jogger, Elena knew that on a good day she could average an eight-minute mile. This wasn’t a good day. She’d be lucky to walk the five miles in under two hours.
She set her watch. It was already zero five hundred hours.
“Dammit,” she muttered. If her calculations were correct, she’d make it to the golf cart around zero seven hundred. Brady would be up by then.