Hidden Agenda

by Rochelle Alers

  “If they’d planned to I don’t think we’d be sitting here talking to each other right now.”

  “What about Alex?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

  “When is Uncle Harry expected to arrive in Mexico City?”

  “He’ll be here Friday.”

  Eve closed her eyes. Three days. Seventy-two hours. “What’s going to happen if Alex doesn’t meet my uncle?”

  “Only Delgado knows that. He claims he’s been marked for death, but he won’t say who it is that wants him dead.”

  She swallowed back the question she longed to ask. What about my son?

  “What do we do, Matt?”

  He gave her a long, penetrating stare. “We wait.”

  After twenty-four hours in the small room, Eve thought she was going to lose her mind. She’d spent most of the time either pacing the floor or sleeping. Matt, on the other hand, stood by the window, staring up at the sky. It was as if he was waiting for something or someone.

  “What are you looking for?” she finally asked.

  “I’m not looking. I’m listening.”

  She exhaled loudly. “Then what are you listening for?”

  Matt didn’t move. “It’s not what, but who.”

  Eve felt her control snap. “Dammit, Mateo, who are you listening for?”

  Matt turned his head and she saw the dark purple bruise along his left cheekbone. “I’m trying to pick up bits and pieces of conversations. I just heard someone mention Delgado. He must still be alive,” he whispered.

  She crossed the room and stood next to him. There were two, maybe three men, standing close enough to the window to be overheard, but they spoke in rapid Spanish and she could only pick up a few words.

  She watched Matt’s face for a change in expression. His impassive mask of stone told her nothing.

  Bored, she walked away and flopped down on the bed to wait. A day had passed. Her uncle was due to arrive in another forty-eight hours, but would he find them? Would Alex be alive? Would someone have answers to where Chris could possibly be?

  She had no idea where they were or how far they were from Mexico City. Matt didn’t know who the men were who held them prisoner. However, he was certain that except for Delgado, they would be released. But when?

  There came two thuds on the door and she sat up. It was the signal that she and Matt would be allowed to leave the room for a quarter of an hour for a small, antiquated lavatory at the end of the hall; in their four allotted trips to the bathroom they’d managed a modicum of tolerable personal hygiene.

  Matt turned from his position near the window and made his way to the bed. “¡Entre!”

  The bolt slid back and the door swung open. A short, stockily built man walked into the room. Nodding slightly to Matt, he lapsed into a rapid string of Spanish, addressing him as Señor Arroyo.

  Matt inclined his head, thanking him. The man backed out of the room and closed the door. This time there was no distinctive sound of the bolt sliding into place.

  “We’ve just received an invitation to dinner,” he explained to a perplexed Eve.

  “With whom?”

  Matt managed what could be called a smile. His injured jaw had temporarily marred his strikingly attractive face. “We’ll find out soon enough. Put your boots on, Darling. It appears as if we’re about to check out of this most reputable establishment.”

  Matt and Eve sat in the back of the pickup truck with the same man who’d come to their room and told them they were leaving. There was no sign of Alejandro Delgado, his driver or his bodyguard.

  Eve sat close to Matt, resting her head against his solid shoulder. She knew he was in pain because each time the truck dipped and swayed over the rutted road the muscles in his shoulder tightened involuntarily.

  There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but didn’t. It seemed as if she’d been asking questions ever since she stepped foot on Mexican soil. Questions she didn’t have answers to, and questions Matt would not or could not answer.

  The truck left the rutted road and continued up a steep incline, its gears grinding loudly. With the higher altitude Eve experienced a popping sound in her ears.

  Then, it appeared out of nowhere. A sun-bleached, white, two-story structure stood in the midst of a carved-out portion of a jungle of towering trees and trailing vines.

  “Matt,” Eve whispered, sitting up straighter. The truck screeched to an abrupt halt seconds after his name was out of her mouth.

  The front door opened and a cadre of green-fatigued men flanked by a dark-suited Harry Blackwell walked out into the late-afternoon sunlight. Matt held Eve firmly as she attempted to scramble over the side of the pickup unaided.

  “Uncle Harry!” she gasped in shock.

  “Careful, Preciosa,” Matt warned softly. “Your uncle will have my head if you break your neck.”

  Standing, he swung her over the side of the truck and handed her to a waiting Harry Blackwell. A twisted smile tortured his injured jaw as he watched his wife’s tearful reunion with her uncle.

  Matt climbed out of the truck, his gaze firmly fixed on the phalanx of specially trained men closing in around Blackwell and Eve. Even though their uniforms bore no identifying insignias, he was certain they were members of the elite Delta Force.

  Harry hugged and kissed Eve. Pulling back, he nodded, and a man from his escort team stepped forward and extended his hand.

  “Come with me, Ma’am.”

  Eve took a step backward, shaking her head. “No.”

  Harry’s lined forehead furrowed deeper. “Eve, you have to—”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” she said, cutting off her uncle’s entreaty. “All I have to do is find my son.”

  Harry stared over Eve’s head at Matt. A silent undercurrent of realization passed between the two men, and Harry was aware that Matt knew what he was going to say before he verbalized it.

  “Christopher is safe,” he confirmed after a lengthy silence.

  A cry of joy broke from Eve’s lips. Her baby was safe. “Where is he?” she questioned, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs.

  “He’s with your aunt.”

  Eve lifted her face to the sky and mumbled a silent prayer of gratitude. Tears welled up behind her lids, turning her eyes into brilliant, sparkling onyx.

  Matt felt her joy as surely as if it had been his own. He took a step toward her, but his efforts were thwarted as two men from Blackwell’s team stepped between him and his wife.

  The almost imperceptible motion was not lost on Eve. She moved away from her uncle and found her target restricted by the men, who took orders only from Harry Blackwell.

  “Excuse me,” Eve said politely, even though there was no mistaking the coldness in the two words.

  “It’s over, Eve,” Harry barked out. His face was marked with a barely restrained loathing.

  Rage replacing her joy, Eve glared at her uncle. “It’s not over until I’m back on U.S. soil with my son and my husband.”

  Harry Blackwell, his dark face set in a vicious expression, nodded. The two men in front of Matt moved as one, capturing Eve’s arms.

  Matt, who had been silent and motionless, sprang with the speed and agility of a cat and grabbed Harry Blackwell from behind. There was only the sound of steel slapping leather as automatic weapons were snatched from holsters.

  Harry froze in the deathlike grip on his neck. He knew Mateo Arroyo could snap his neck in less than two seconds. And two seconds was enough time for his men to extinguish Matt’s life in a hail of bullets.

  “If you kill me, then you’d better prepare to join me in death.” Harry’s voice was strong and unwavering.

  “You don’t want to die any more than I want to,” Matt whispered savagely in Harry’s ear. “But I’ll take your life as sure as you stand here, you lying, lowlife bureaucrat. You set me up, then you expect me to walk away after you get what you want. Wrong, Blackwell, because this time I’m going to
get what I want. I’m leaving Mexico with my wife!”

  Harry struggled to control his temper. “You’ll leave Mexico—in a body bag!”

  “No!” Eve screamed, the piercing sound floating upward and lingering in the humid air. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably. “You can’t kill him,” she pleaded in a soft voice. “How will you tell your grandniece or nephew that you killed its father?”

  Matt’s arm fell from Harry’s throat, and seconds later the guns pointed at him were holstered. Eight pairs of eyes were trained on Eve’s face.

  The shock of what Eve had admitted hit her full force and she swayed slightly. What she’d suspected for the past week had been confirmed that morning. The wave of nausea had hit without warning, her stomach rejecting her breakfast. She didn’t need a doctor to confirm her pregnancy. Her body had undergone the same changes when she became pregnant with her son.

  “Are you certain?” Matt asked in a quiet voice.

  She stood straighter in quiet, regal dignity. “As sure as I am that I love you.”

  Harry stared at his niece, then Matt, stunned. He’d asked Matt to marry Eve, not get her pregnant. His shoulders slumped in resignation. “Let’s go inside,” he suggested. “This new revelation changes everything.”

  Chapter 27

  Matt extended his arms and Eve walked into his embrace. He held her gently, tenderly, as if he feared crushing her. He was so overwhelmed with emotion that he didn’t know what to do or say.

  A bright smile creased his bruised face. A father. He was going to be a father!

  “Sterling!” Harry bellowed. “We have work to do.”

  “And you, husband, have a lot to explain,” Eve said quietly.

  “I’ll explain everything once we get back,” he promised, curving an arm around her waist and leading her into the house behind Harry.

  A spacious entry opened to an expansive living room. The room was empty except for a portable rack filled with metal folding chairs.

  Turning, Harry smiled at Eve. “A room has been set up for you, honey. It’s the second one on the left at the top of the stairs.”

  Matt’s right hand cradled the back of Eve’s head, his fingers caressing the soft curls on the nape of her neck. “I’ll be up as soon as I can,” he said quietly. Lowering his head, he kissed the tip of her nose. He released her, watching as she climbed the stairs and disappeared from sight. The tender expression softening his features vanished. “I want her out of here immediately.”

  “She’ll leave with me an hour before Operation MESA is launched,” Harry stated in a firm tone.

  Crossing his arms over his black-shirted chest, Matt gave Harry a withering stare. “Let’s settle something right now, Blackwell. My first priority is seeing that my wife and unborn child are safe. I don’t give a damn about you, Operation MESA, or how Alejandro Delgado figures into your covert border politics, but I do know that Eve and I were released because you deemed it. And I also know that you still need me.”

  Harry’s expression remained unchanged, not denying or confirming Matt’s accusation. “Talk to me, Blackwell,” Matt taunted. “You were quite vocal just a few minutes ago when you threatened me with something which sounded like—uh—a body bag.” He leaned closer to Harry. “You do remember the B words, don’t you?”

  Harry cursed under his breath, the words savage and coarse. Glancing away, he nodded. “You’re right. I still need you.”

  “How soon can you get Eve out of Mexico?”

  Harry hesitated. “How about tomorrow morning?”

  “How?”

  “Military helicopter.”

  Matt placed a large hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s talk.”

  Harry exhaled loudly, and he didn’t care if Matt knew of his relief. There weren’t too many occasions when associate directors of intelligence bureaus were directed to personally oversee an international maneuver.

  He removed two chairs from the rack and handed one to Matt. They sat down, very close to each other. Harry stared at the man who stood near the front door, and the soldier turned his back.

  “Jorge Martín has been funneling DEA information to Delgado,” Matt whispered.

  Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Martín is a fool, because he had no way of knowing that Delgado’s our link to Raul Cordero-Vega.”

  Matt glared at Harry. The man had known all along who headed the rebels. The retired army colonel who had become Costa Rica’s interior minister extracted enormous sums of money from foreign companies by increasing tariffs on their exports.

  “It appears,” Harry continued, “that the Costa Rican government confiscated a very lucrative Delgado-Quintero holding, and Alejandro wanted revenge. He came to us with the story, asking for our help. We cut a deal—we would help him get his holdings back if he fingered certain Mexican officials who were extorting from American companies.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of months before he married Eve.”

  Matt’s expressive eyebrows shifted. “And knowing what Delgado was involved in, you let Eve marry him?”

  “Delgado never mentioned that he was seeing Eve, and I only found out after they were married. I was very persuasive when I told him to annul the marriage, but it was too late. Eve was already pregnant, which meant I couldn’t touch him. He wouldn’t leave Eve, so we set it up for her to leave him. Delgado’s reputation as a womanizer was common knowledge, and we helped him along with a number of his infidelities.”

  “What about his involvement in all of the drug and weapon smuggling?”

  “We created the foil for Operation MESA. Delgado lured a lot of spiders into our net.”

  “You set the man up,” Matt said incredulously, shaking his head. “And now he’s caught in his own trap.”

  “He came to us willingly.”

  “You still set him up,” Matt repeated accusingly.

  “I would’ve done anything to get him away from my niece,” Harry retorted. “I didn’t want her involved in an international—”

  “But she is,” Matt interrupted. “Who kidnapped us?”

  “A few Federales whom Vega has on his payroll. They intercepted Christopher on Christmas Eve and held him until they snared his father. We’re responsible for Delgado, so what I want you to do is negotiate with these rogue Federales for his life.”

  “How much are you prepared to pay?”

  “Up to a million,” Harry stated firmly.

  Matt smiled and leaned back on his chair. “I wonder if Delgado realizes how valuable a snitch he is.” He sobered. “How much time do I have?”

  “You have until an hour before Operation MESA begins. After that we won’t be able to protect you or Delgado.”

  Leaning over and resting his elbows on his thighs, Matt stared down at the highly polished wood floor. He had less than thirty hours to win a life-and-death game of chess.

  He glanced up, giving Harry a long and penetrating stare. “I’m going upstairs to my wife, and when I come down you can tell me where I’m to go and who to see. I’ll leave the moment the helicopter lifts off with Eve on board.”

  “You’re wasting precious time. She’s not leaving until tomorrow morning.”

  Rising to his feet, Matt stared down at Harry. “My way or no deal, Blackwell.”

  Harry also stood up. “I’m glad you’re getting the hell out of this business,” he grumbled. “I give orders, not take them. Especially not from someone I pay.”

  “Don’t bother firing me, Blackwell. I quit.”

  Matt crossed the floor and took the stairs two at a time to the upper level. He and Eve would have one more night together before they parted.

  He rapped lightly on the closed bedroom door, then stepped into the room. The familiar fragrance of Eve’s perfume lingered in the air. His gaze swept around the space, missing nothing. The last time he saw Eve’s luggage it had been in the trunk of Delgado’s Mercedes. It was apparent that Blackwell had come to Mexico earlier than plann
ed to negotiate for his niece and her husband’s release.

  Eve lay on a large bed draped with mosquito netting, asleep. Removing his clothes and shoes, he walked over to the bed and lay down beside her. She stirred briefly as he pulled her against his chest, but she did not wake up.

  “I love both of you,” he whispered to Eve and the tiny life growing in her womb.

  Matt closed his eyes and thought about the time Harry Blackwell had invaded the private world of Matthew Sterling to plead passionately for him to look for Eve’s son, with the promise that they would annul their marriage of convenience after the child’s return. Christopher Delgado was now back on U.S. soil, where he would soon share his mother with a stepfather and a brother or a sister.

  In thirty hours it would be over, and if he didn’t succeed he and Delgado would forfeit their lives. Eve would lose not only an ex-husband, but also a husband and the father of her unborn child.

  No, he said silently. This was his last mission, and he would come out a winner. He lay motionless, then lapsed into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  The lashes shadowing Eve’s large, dark eyes lifted, and she encountered a pair in gold and green watching her. “Hi,” she whispered shyly.

  “Hi,” Matt returned with a wide grin. He kissed her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?”

  She stretched, raising her bare arms above her head and reminding him of a sleek cat. “I only realized it for certain this morming. I’d missed my period two weeks ago and my breasts are quite tender, but when I couldn’t keep my breakfast down this morning, I knew.”

  His brow furrowed in a frown. “I didn’t see you throw up.”

  “It happened during one of my trips to the bathroom. The guard had been smoking and the smell of stale smoke on his clothes and breath sickened me.”

  Matt gathered her close to his body. “I promise I’ll never smoke again, Preciosa. Well—maybe the day the baby’s born,” he added cheerfully.

  “There will no smoking in my house.”