Maggie's Revenge

by Jacquie Biggar

  He’d called up a few favors from some of his old Navy buddies and they’d cleared them a way in, but warned coming out was their problem. That’s okay, problem-solving was his specialty. Case in point, the trio of baddies they’d rounded up back home and hand delivered to the local PD who weren’t thrilled with his version of vigilante justice. Cattle rustling was serious business in these parts though, and Frank’s family were fifth generation landowners. It also helped that the sheriff lived nearby and had lost enough of his herd to make him a sympathetic listener. They still faced an enquiry—two men had died after all—but they’d been allowed to leave on their own recognizance. No doubt helped by the fact he had two Feds with him when it all went down.

  The rain threatening them since Houston coated the window in a light mist. Frank searched the controls until he found the delay switch. He never could figure out why every automotive maker had to adjust the basic functions of a vehicle. Some things shouldn’t be messed with. Like Adam and Maggie’s relationship.

  Frank took another glance at his friend, head back, mouth slightly open, eyes flickering as he went deep rem. One thing about SEAL training, they learned to grab rest when they could. He was curious about the SAC. She wasn’t what he’d expected. Younger than most, prettier too. It had to be difficult maintaining her position in a male dominated field. He respected that. Respected her for risking her life in order to provide backup assistance to him in last night’s fiasco. That took guts. Most high-ranking officials he’d come across were better off behind a desk than out in the field. She’d barely batted an eye at their fake passports or their cover story; she and Adam were newly married missionaries on a humanitarian support effort to the areas hardest hit after the recent earthquakes that had shaken the country’s infrastructure. Frank was their guide. To add credibility, the trunk was filled with blankets, water, and infant supplies. And in a hidden compartment under the floorboards—an arsenal in weapons.

  The rain increased its tempo, bouncing off the uneven pavement on the narrow ribbon of highway. By his calculations, they had another three hours driving before they would be in range of their rescue mission. Magdalena Holt.

  It had been a long time since they traded words—the holding cell in Las Vegas where she’d been questioning his best friend, Jared—but she’d never been far from his thoughts since. It took a special sort of person to go deep undercover and not be affected by what they had to see and do in order to maintain their front. He hadn’t come out unscathed, none of his team had, so he was admittedly worried about Maggie. What they accomplished, in the teams and as federal agents, made a difference, he firmly believed in that. But, it also changed a person. Impossible to pass through the fire without getting burned.

  “How long did you work together?” came a quiet voice from the back, startling Frank out of his musings.

  He glanced over his shoulder and met SAC Rhinehold’s curious gaze. “Five years,” he answered, refocusing on the empty highway. “We were in training together, BUD/S. You go through something like that, it creates a bond for life, you know?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I’ve heard about SEAL training, it’s not for the weak, is it?”

  “No, ma’am,” Frank said, his lips twisting at the understatement. “Mind or body. Earn your Trident every day.”

  “You’re something of a legend, Mr. Stein, or should I say Chief Stein?”

  Frank shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m a civilian now, Frank is fine.” He controlled his tone, determined not to let this stranger know how much he missed his team.

  “Well, I’m grateful you were able to ease our way into Mexico. The sooner we can make contact with Agent Holt, the better.”

  Frank searched the reflection of her eyes in the mirror. “Why does it feel like this is more than a rescue mission?” He didn’t like what his instincts were telling him. The DEA weren’t known as a philanthropic organization.

  “What my boss hasn’t said,” Adam answered concisely, letting them know he’d been awake for much of the conversation, “is that she needs to pick Maggie’s brain the minute we find her. Isn’t that right, SAC Rhinehold?”

  Amanda stiffened and shot him a dirty look. “I’m sure Mr. Stein isn’t interested in inner office politics, Agent.”

  Whoa, the gloves were off. Frank had to give her credit, she didn’t back down from a fight.

  “Oh, this is about more than politics. It’s also about money, billions and billions of dollars.”

  “Adam…” she warned.

  He snorted and looked out the side window. “It’s nothing we haven’t been fighting for most of our careers. Corruption, greed, power. They all require money, lots of money. And what better way to raise it than illegal commodities like drugs, weapons, and human trafficking.”

  Frank cursed under his breath. “Is this about that Phoenix file?” Adam gave a short, sharp nod and Frank’s hands strangled the steering wheel. “By God, that ghost has been chasing our tails for more years than…. You were shot over it, for fuck sakes.”

  Amanda’s soft gasp was overloud in the leaden silence filling the car. “Why didn’t you tell me this case cut so close to home? I can take you off, find someone to fill your…”

  “No,” Adam snarled. His gaze was fierce as he swung to face Amanda, lifting his shirt so she could see the web of scars covering his torso. “I’ve earned my way into taking this sonofabitch down. Don’t you dare take that away from me. Just… don’t.” He said, lowering the material and slouching into the corner of his seat.

  Frank wanted to know why she hadn’t already been informed of their connection to the General who was behind the Phoenix file and the deaths of two members of their team, as well as almost killing Adam and injuring their friend Nick Kelley.

  “How long did you say you’ve been Special Agent in Charge, Ms. Rhinehold?”

  “Please, call me Amanda. It’s been just over two years. My first big case was Agent Holt’s undercover operation into the illegal sex trafficking of women and children out of the US into the international market. Agent Holt requested the assignment and since her coloring worked well with the type of women going missing, I agreed.” She lifted her chin, but he noticed her eyes flickered. “I’m truly sorry we weren’t able to rescue her when the lead came in that she was in Vancouver. Our window of opportunity was just too narrow. I hope we have better luck this time.”

  She turned to Adam. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I intend to get to the bottom of it as soon as we rescue your partner. I hope you’re willing to give me the benefit of the doubt.” She straightened and folded her arms in a defensive posture. “You’re not the only one being kept in the dark.”

  And wasn’t that par for the course, working for good old Uncle Sam?

  22

  The following day after their arrival on what she’d come to think of as Standoff Point the temperature had soared into the triple digits, fraying tempers and sucking energy. Maggie was grateful when the sun dropped over the horizon.

  She’d planned on moving the group farther away from the Humvee morgue parked below, but they’d woken this morning to a violently ill Kim. She had a raging fever, was lethargic, and had suffered from violent shaking spasms all day, so the decision was made to hole up here and hope for the best.

  At least they’d found a water source.

  Earlier, she’d left Olga in charge of the camp while she investigated the area. Saguaro and velvet mesquite shared space with creosote bushes and bur sage. A jackrabbit startled and bounded away in a few giant leaps, extended feet propelling it out of sight long before Maggie’s heartbeat settled down. The sun was merciless, creating shimmering heatwaves in the distance that tricked her into thinking water was near.

  Maggie shaded her eyes and searched for greenery, a sure sign of groundwater and maybe even a spring if she was lucky. At the end of a narrow valley corridor between their hill and its twin she found what she was looking for—a bubbling brook. No wonder Mr. Bunny was
hanging around. Water was the difference between life and death in the desert. Tempted as she was to soak up the silence, she knew the others would worry, so she filled the canteens and regretfully turned her back on the little oasis.

  By the time she’d returned to camp Kim was sitting up. She looked pale and shaky, but otherwise on the road to recovery.

  “Has anyone else shown any symptoms?” she asked Olga, who had come to help carry the water bottles to the shade of the overhanging slab of rock that provided them with a shallow cave.

  “No, but then you know how that one is, there is always something wrong with her.” Olga glared over her shoulder at the hapless Kim.

  Privately, Maggie agreed, but it was important they remained a team so they could act as one in a crisis situation. And she was concerned about Kim’s health. If they had to make a run for safety, she would slow them down in her condition. Maggie had harvested a few leaves and fruit from the acacia constricta in order to make a tea to aid her recuperation, thankful she’d listened to her native mother’s teachings. She set water to boil in one of the tin camping cups they’d found—careful to keep the fire low— then worked to remove the seeds from the five-inch-long legume type fruit, mashing the seeds and leaves into a paste on a flat stone using a small rock. She added the mixture to the boiled water and carried the cup to Kim.

  She knew the other woman wasn’t feeling well when she glanced up with none of her usual snarky attitude. “Here,” Maggie said, crouching to hand her the steaming mug. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

  Kim wrinkled her nose at the smell, but accepted the drink. She took a tentative sip, and then another. “This isn’t bad, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Maggie sat cross-legged and watched as her patient emptied the cup. “Give it a little time to work and you should start feeling much better.” She noticed Kim’s pupils were somewhat enlarged and her breathing was erratic. Maggie’s throat tightened. “Where did you get the peyote, Kim?”

  She choked on the tea, turning her head to spit on the ground. When she finished, she dragged a trembling hand across her mouth and looked at Maggie with sunken eyes. “It was a college frat party. My friend and I were new sorority members and everyone else was going, so we went, too.

  “At first, it was exciting—standing in line, waiting to see if the guys would let you in, or not—the dancing, lights, jungle juice, but then my friend, Sam, disappeared and I got worried. The friendly crowd didn’t seem so friendly anymore.”

  She tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I searched everywhere downstairs, but no one seemed to know where she’d gone. I knew there were rooms upstairs for…,” she glanced up and away, “you know. Anyway, I really wanted to leave, but couldn’t go without her so I went up the stairs.” Tears glistened from her green eyes. “There were three guys… they’d just come out of one of the bedrooms and were laughing about something—I don’t even remember what. I saw Sam laying on the bed naked, her eyes swollen from crying and I lost it.”

  Maggie’s heart constricted for the two young women who’d lost their innocence that night. She reached out to offer comfort, but the emptiness in the other woman’s eyes stayed her hand.

  “I screamed they were pigs and threatened them with the police as I pushed my way past. I remember smelling the sex on their skin—it still makes me sick to think of it. They grabbed me and shoved me into the room. The scariest thing I ever heard was the sound of their breathing when the door closed.”

  She shifted again, awareness entering her expression as she met Maggie’s gaze. “Anyway, when I woke up I was part of Chenglei’s house of horrors. I wasn’t exactly a model employee so they kept me quiet with mescaline. Even told me where to find it. Nice of them, wasn’t it?” She grimaced.

  Her story touched home, triggering a morass of pain and anger in Maggie’s heart. She was well aware of the rape culture pervasive in many schools across the country. She’d been just ten when her older, beautiful sister was drugged and attacked by a group of men at a party. She’d gone on to commit suicide afterward.

  Maggie cleared her throat. “Listen, when we get out of here I have friends who can help you.” Kim reared back, shaking her head. Maggie raised her hand. “Just think about it, okay? You don’t need to handle this alone.” Like she had.

  Olga joined them, her gaze sharp. “Am I interrupting?”

  Kim turned away, her expression closed.

  Maggie hesitated, then rose, shaking her head. “Nah, we were just getting to know one another. She tells me the tea is settling her stomach. Any word from my partner yet?”

  “No, and speaking of getting to know one another… when were you going to tell us you’re a cop?” Olga said cop as though it was dung beneath her shoe.

  Maggie cringed, then tipped her chin up. She had no reason to feel ashamed. “I’m not a police officer,” she told her friend and Kim, whose face had turned pasty again. “I’m a Federal Agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration.”

  Olga swore. “So this,” she waved a hand between them, “your friendship was nothing more than a ploy. All you wanted was information. You didn’t give a damn about us.”

  “No,” Maggie cried. “That’s not true.” She grasped Olga’s arm before she could stomp away. “I care more than you can ever imagine. I hate that creeps like Chenglei are taking up air on this planet. I hate that he hurt you. And I hate that I never killed him when I had the chance.” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks, but she ignored them to seize Olga’s other arm and pull her face to face. “Olga, please. We’ve been through so much. Your friendship means the world to me. I’m sorry I never said anything sooner, I should have. All these years… working on this case… it’s made it hard to trust anyone. I’m sorry, okay?”

  Olga leaned close. Her cheek brushed Maggie’s. “Trust works both ways,” she whispered, sending a shiver down Maggie’s spine.

  23

  The desert floor remained quiet that afternoon. The only movement Maggie detected was the odd eagle gliding across the flame-blue sky. The area reminded her of Nevada, which in turn led to thoughts of Adam.

  She missed him more than ever today. Olga’s anger had burned. She’d acted like judge and jury without giving Maggie the benefit of a doubt. It hurt.

  Didn’t she understand how hard it was to always hold the truest part of herself inside, never able to lower her guard for fear of what might escape if she did? Maggie had played a part for so many years she wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. The youngest daughter of a petty criminal, the lonely child who’d lost her sister, or the tough agent determined to rid the world of men who got their thrills by victimizing women.

  Only one man had ever given her the sense he understood—Frank Stein. Just the thought of Adam’s friend, tall and lean with that smooth Texas accent, was enough to quicken her pulse. Though their first meeting was fleeting, he’d left a lasting impression, arriving with all the fury of a Texas tornado and demanding the release of his teammate, Jared Martin. She and Adam had been questioning Martin in conjunction with a money laundering racket he’d inadvertently landed in the middle of, which also happened to be tied to the cartel the DEA were investigating for the importation of hundreds of kilos of cocaine. She had to admit she’d made a less than stellar example of an agent, dressed as she’d been in thigh-high boots and micro mini skirt. But he seemed to look beyond her undercover attire and see the person beneath—and approved.

  Maggie wrapped her arms around drawn knees and stared at the twilight taking over the horizon turning the sky periwinkle. If Adam wasn’t here by morning they would have to seek a new shelter. It was too dangerous to stay in one place. Kim had rested all afternoon and looked much better now. Olga had avoided her and kept busy keeping the other girls comfortable. Ever the mother hen. When they’d had an opportunity to escape from another one of Chenglei’s hideouts, it was Olga who’d made it possible for eight young women to get away at the cost of her own f
reedom.

  Maggie reached down to pick up a handful of the pebbly sand mixture and let it sift between her fingers. For so many months, all she’d had to live on were the memories of sun and sand that the last twenty-four hours seemed surreal.

  Chenglei.

  The Mexican-Chinese General in the Sinaloa Cartel had done his best to break her spirit. He took a sadistic pleasure in rape and torture, but left the murdering to his minions. One of the reasons they’d never been able to build a case against him. He was charismatic, wily, and dangerous. And he scared the hell out of her.

  “Still no word from your friends. They aren’t coming, are they?” Kim had wandered over and stood staring at the dark shadow of the Humvee.

  Maggie shook her head, though she’d been wondering the same thing. It had been too long, Adam should have been here by now. God, if anything happened to him because of her…

  “They’ll be here,” she murmured, as much for herself as Kim.

  “You have more confidence than I do.” Kim crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive posture. “I lost my faith a long time ago.”

  Maggie was at a loss for words. What do you say to people who’d been through the trauma they had? Time heals. You’re a survivor. You’ll get over it in time. All were trite and clichéd. The only thing she could offer was a promise.

  “No matter what, I will find him and he will pay.”

  Kim stood there, a slim shadow in the gathering gloom She gave a short, sharp nod and walked away. Maggie frowned. What had possessed her to make a vow she might not be able to keep? Chenglei was invincible, especially here on his home turf. Her only hope was to draw him out, but she had no idea how to make that happen.

  “We have company.”

  Olga’s voice near her elbow startled her. She glanced up to see her friend pointing to the east. Maggie jumped up and stared at the set of headlights bouncing along the dirt road heading in their direction. While she’d been daydreaming, the enemy had arrived on their doorstep.