by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“Try real hard. You’re a smart lady—you should be able to figure out something.”
“That’s right, Bennington, I am a smart lady and I’ve finally realized that something about you doesn’t add up.”
“Let me know when you figure out what it is,” he said. “Where are you staying?”
“Near the airport.”
“Where’s your car?” he asked.
She gestured in the direction where Jay was still parked. She hoped.
“I’ll see you safely to your car.”
“I can handle walking to my car by myself,” she said.
“Be careful. Even Athena graduates sometimes find themselves in over their heads.”
“I know that.”
“I wish you’d leave.”
“I’m not going to until I talk to Thomas King. I’ve had some time to think about his situation, and nothing adds up.”
“Like what?” he asked. She couldn’t tell if he was curious or ticked off because she refused to let it go.
“Well, how did the guerrillas ambush an entire SEAL platoon? You know how well trained the SEALs are. One or two causalities I can believe, but the entire team?”
“They are highly trained. But even highly trained men can make a mistake.”
“Is that what happened?”
“How would I know? I’m here for the sun, sand and beautiful babes.”
“Thirty minutes ago I would’ve believed that.”
“It’s in your best interest to believe it again. When are you supposed to meet King?”
“Well, I kind’ve got officially uninvited to interview him, but Perez is meeting with me tomorrow morning.”
“Be careful, Patton. Someone doesn’t want King to talk to you,” he said, and she couldn’t tell if he was warning her or threatening her.
“You?”
“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if that were the case.”
“You don’t scare me. I’ve got my Athena training, don’t forget,” she said with a wry grin.
“What does scare you?” he asked, his playboy smile fixed firmly in place.
She wasn’t going to admit to fears to this man who’d implied that he might have killed her if that had been his order. She tossed her hair. “Nothing.”
She walked away without looking back. And though she’d never admit it, she was glad Jay was in the Jeep.
The afternoon was balmy and she paused in the shade for a moment to tip her head back and just breathe. She wasn’t as brave as her Athena pals. Her hands were still trembling. It’s just an adrenaline letdown. But it felt like fear, and she didn’t like being reminded that failure here could have higher consequences than just being busted back to the local television station.
Going the distance meant doing things you didn’t want to do. She wasn’t weak and she wouldn’t give up. No one was going to deter her. Not even herself.
Thanks, Rainy, for making sure I paid attention at school. She smiled to herself and fancifully imagined Rainy by her side, covering her back on Puerto Isla.
She must be more tired than she thought. In fact, she was bone weary. Her limbs felt heavy and her mind was buzzing with everything she’d learned today. Actually, with everything she hadn’t been able to answer. Ben Forsythe was an enigma. How was he connected to King?
Thomas King was her priority. Why was he being moved? And why was the government suddenly refusing to let her see him? Something wasn’t right. She wished she’d brought some kind of weapon with her. She felt ill equipped to handle the situation.
Thank God, Jay was waiting for her right where he’d promised. She climbed in and made a show of getting situated while she gathered her thoughts.
Jay shifted the vehicle into gear, and it bumped its way over the pothole-filled road. Tory stretched her arms over her head and tried to focus.
Thomas King had been in prison for six months. The new government leader, Alejandro Del Torro, the interim president, had rescued him. Del Torro had been outraged to realize that American POWs were being tortured in the prison. Which begged the question—why were they now refusing to grant her access to King? They had been the ones to call Tyson.
“Jay, I think I need to talk to President Del Torro instead of Perez. We’ll go to the presidential palace in the morning.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Doesn’t it seem odd to you that everything is more complicated than it should be?” she asked. She needed to talk her ideas out to see if they had any substance. Usually she’d bounce ideas off of Perry or her boss, but Jay was the only one who was seeing what she saw.
“Yeah.” Jay pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He inhaled deeply and then turned toward her. The smoke circled his head.
“What’s up?” Tory asked Jay when he pulled the Jeep to a stop a few miles away from the hospital.
“I had another visit from el policía captain while you were breaking and entering.”
“Just entering—no breaking.”
“I’m glad you think this is funny.”
She didn’t. “They came up to you in the car?”
“No, I’d stepped out to have a cigarette.”
“Why was he looking for me?” she asked. It wasn’t the first time she’d ruffled feathers, but it was the first time she’d done it before she’d really started asking questions.
“A woman called in an anonymous tip that you were here to broker a weapons deal with some drug runners.”
Tory froze. “Shannon.”
“He didn’t say, but it makes sense. You haven’t had time to cultivate any other female enemies—have you?”
“Not that I know of.” Tory had the chills. Rivalry was one thing, but this was more than rivalry. Drug runners and arms dealers weren’t very nice people, and if she’d gone to jail on those charges, she’d have been severely beaten and probably raped. The law on Puerto Isla was still too used to doing what it wanted. She’d heard tales from the people she’d talked to in the marketplace.
Did Shannon hate her so much?
Shannon had gone too far this time. The next time she saw Shannon, Tory was going to have it out with her. Scooping Tory’s stories was one thing; sticking third-world cops on her trail was another matter entirely.
“I gave the police some money and moved the car. When I circled back I made sure they weren’t around.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“Not for long. They had a photo of you and they definitely wanted to take you in for questioning.” He reached out, rubbing her shoulder in a comforting way. She wanted to lean against Jay for a minute. She needed something to break the tension riding her.
“I shouldn’t need more than twenty-four hours to get this thing finished.”
“Good. I’m ready to leave the dust of this island behind.”
“It’s such a lush paradise, it’s hard to imagine corruption here.”
“That’s where it prospers. Don’t you remember the snake in Eden?”
“Yeah. I wonder how many snakes are here.”
“Someone thinks it’s us. So we need to be careful.”
“I always am.”
As Jay parked the Jeep and they gathered their stuff to head into the hotel, Tory wished for a minute she were a different sort of girl.
Maybe she could have sought comfort in Ben’s or Jay’s arms tonight to forget about everything. But she knew she was too deeply private to ever allow any man access to her soul. To ever trust a man in a way that would let him know she wasn’t the powerhouse she pretended to be.
She’d never really been able to trust men because she’d seen so easily that they were intimidated by a woman who knew her mind and wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted. Her father had always cautioned her to let the boys win, and when she hadn’t, she’d seen her boyfriends back away. Even with Perry she sometimes sensed that their relationship would have trouble if the balance of power shifted to her at the network.
She closed her eyes for a minute, finding the quiet strength she’d always known was deep inside her. Comforting herself by looking to the future and imagining her name mentioned in the same breath as Diane Sawyer, Jane Pauley and Katie Couric.
She wondered if any of them had had to fight off rival reporters who wanted to see them fail or even land in jail. Or if they ever had to deal with handsome playboys who weren’t what they seemed.
Chapter 5
Later that evening Tory walked into a tavern on the outskirts of Cabo de la Vela, one of many small mountain towns in Puerto Isla. Cabo de la Vela was only about ten miles from Paraiso, but it was a world apart. The town had a narrow, rugged road that was unpaved. The housing consisted of rough lean-tos, and there was one main street that had a restaurant with a broken Coke sign hanging over the door.
For the first time since she’d agreed to work as a courier for AA.gov, she resented having to go to a drop. Cathy Jackson had sent a research packet to Tory via overnight mail, and she’d wanted to hole up in her room to start making notes on the information Cathy had gathered.
Tory also wanted to find Shannon and tell her to back off.
She’d had a busy day of researching and writing once they’d returned from the hospital. She’d even read Thomas King’s obituary. It hadn’t revealed much, stating only his rank and the length of his military career and saying that he was survived by his wife, son and two brothers. She’d made two calls to Virginia but had been unable to get in touch with Ellen King, Tom’s wife.
She’d called Joe Peterson at the Miami base again to find out if Ellen King knew her husband was alive. He said she’d been informed and that she wasn’t talking to the media.
The bar was run-down in a pleasant way that comes from usage and not neglect. At this hour—early evening—darkness had just fallen and the bar wasn’t particularly busy. Tory picked a corner table near the door but out of the main traffic flow.
There were two waitresses, and the menu consisted of some sort of fried thing that Tory’s Spanish wasn’t up to translating. She ordered a bottle of beer from the large-figured woman who came to take her order. She wanted to be prepared in case she needed to use the bottle as a weapon.
Maybe she should have taken the time to bring a weapon of some kind. She didn’t like guns but she’d brought her hunting knife and ankle sheath with her. Her dad had taught her to use the knife when she was eight years old. Tory had always had a lot of skill with it, and practicing back at Athena had given her deadly aim.
She felt nervous and tense. Something she usually didn’t associate with her courier drops, but Puerto Isla was getting to her. There was a tension in the air that said the violence of the recent coup wasn’t over.
She sat in the corner waiting for her courier contact to arrive. She’d dressed carefully for this evening in a pair of black jeans, a matching undershirt and a large sapphire-blue silk shirt that she’d tucked into the jeans. The blue shirt was her signal to the person she was meeting.
A group of hikers entered the bar and took a table near the door. They were either American or European. She knew from an earlier e-mail from AA.gov that this tavern was a popular watering hole for groups of Americans who came to Puerto Isla to explore the interior mountain ranges.
The dim lighting lent the bar a feeling of ambience. She took a sip of her beer and leaned back in her chair. It had been a little over six months since she’d been in this kind of bar, a working-class place frequented by men and women after a hard day’s work. This place had a real small-town meeting place feel to it, and Tory loved it.
It reminded her of the bar where her dad hung out in Placid Springs. In the back corner was a door leading to a large kitchen. Tory was tempted to go and see if they had a table set up for wives and kids back there, like Old Joe’s did at home.
A child of about six or seven years ran into the bar and paused at the door. He scanned the crowd carefully. He made eye contact with her and gave her a grin that was much too charming for a child of that age.
He probably thinks I’m an easy mark for a few bucks. She reached for her wallet, intent on being the one to give the kid enough money to keep him out of bars—at least for the next few days.
“Señorita Patton?”
“Sí.”
He thrust a piece of paper at her before running into the kitchen. She opened the paper and found a tersely written note: “Out back five minutes.”
She folded the paper and slipped it into her back pocket. Nonchalantly she glanced at her watch and took another sip of her beer.
She finished her beer, tossed a few bills on the table and stood. She walked out of the bar and paused in the shadows away from the flickering neon light.
She’d worn her hiking boots tonight because the rains had made the roads a quagmire of mud. But the boots weren’t the best shoe for moving quickly to defend herself. They were heavy and awkward. She went over a few tae kwon do self-defense moves in her mind, then went on her way.
A light drizzle began to fall as she walked around the back of the building, every instinct on hyperalert. Rainy, if you’re hanging around out there, watch my back.
She rounded the corner and paused to listen. She didn’t hear anything but sensed someone waiting in the dark.
“Hello?”
“Over here.”
She walked toward the man’s voice. There was something familiar about it. Was he the man she’d met in Paris last month? She reached into her bag and pulled out the leather pouch she’d been given in the airport in New York.
“Don’t come any farther,” the man said.
“Why not?” Tory wasn’t used to taking orders, but on these courier gigs she’d learned that privacy and secrecy were of extreme importance.
“Put the package down and leave.”
She started to obey but there was something familiar about the intonation of the man speaking. And the air of command with which he spoke. “Do I know you?”
He said nothing. She filed a few substantial facts through her mind and came up with nothing but more questions. She moved closer to the shadows. The man smelled familiar, too.
“I do…. Ben?”
He cursed under his breath. A long lean hand reached out of the shadows and snagged her wrist, pulling her into the darkness with him.
She couldn’t make out his expression, but she’d become intimately familiar with his body earlier this afternoon. Those same rock-hard muscles cushioned her as he tugged her deeper into the shadows.
His scent—some sort of spicy aftershave and something else that was uniquely Ben—surrounded her. This wasn’t a good idea, she thought. She knew herself, knew her weaknesses too well.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked you first,” he said. “I want some answers. I thought you were a journalist here for a story. Why are you lurking around outside a dive bar in this mountain town delivering confidential packages?”
She knew then that he was more than the playboy he’d always appeared to be. And that no matter what he said, he was definitely down here doing more than checking out the local sights.
“I’m soaking up the local flavor.”
He spun quickly, pinning her between his body and the hard cold concrete wall of the building. He held her jaw in an unbreakable grip, forcing her head up. Their eyes met and she didn’t like what she saw in his.
“Let me go.”
“Not until I have some answers.”
“I’m not even sure who you are, Ben.”
“Who do you work for?”
“UBC.”
“Not tonight, though.”
“No. Tonight I’m working for AA.gov.”
“The Athena alumnae organization?”
She slid her thigh between his. He canted his hips toward hers, and she hesitated a second too long before trying to knee him. He grunted and pressed her harder into the wall so she couldn’t get leverage.
&n
bsp; “Let me go.”
“In a minute. So you’re a courier and you work through AA.gov. Why you?”
“My job gives me a reason to be in hot spots without arousing suspicion.”
He nodded. He let go of her jaw, drawing his fingers down her neck, where they lingered at the pulse beating hurriedly. Then he stepped away from her and leaned against the wall next to her.
“When did you start?”
“When I was in college. I knew that the military wasn’t for me but I wanted to help my country.”
“Idealist.”
“I’m not the only one. What are you doing here? The truth this time.”
He lowered his forehead so that it brushed hers. Each exhalation of his breath brushed across her face. She tried to concentrate on the questions she wanted to ask, but only one kept circling in her mind. Would he kiss her again?
Ben’s lips brushed hers in a slow, sensual movement designed to seduce. But she wasn’t going to be distracted from the truth tonight. She moved away from his mouth and he let her go. His hands dropped to his sides and Tory stood there in the dark, not able to hear even the sound of his breath.
“What do you want from me, Tory?” he asked in that whisper-soft tone.
It was the first time he’d said her name, and she savored the sound of it on his lips. Then she shook herself. She was in a committed relationship. This could go no further.
“Just a few answers,” she said at last. The rain was soft and warm and barely penetrated the layers of her clothing.
“I can’t imagine why.”
“Really, Ben. I’m not falling for the I’ve-got-more-teeth-than-brains act anymore.”
“Is that what you thought?” he asked.
He knew it was. He’d cultivated his toothy grin and charming-idiot image carefully. The man she’d met earlier in the day and again this evening was smart and savvy, two words she’d never have applied to Bennington before. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“Smart-ass.”
“Ah, I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
She could like him, and that scared her. Her relationship with Perry worked for a number of reasons—chief among them were mutual respect and affection—but beyond that they weren’t all that close. They didn’t laugh together or share any intimate secrets. In fact, Ben now knew more about her than Perry did.