Shoving his pistol into the waistband of his jeans, he picked up the terrorist’s rifle and continued on.
A speedboat rounded the point and pulled up to a dock near the house. He hit the ground and trained his rifle scope on a man climbing out of the boat with a briefcase. Almasi.
“Hello, you bastard,” Max whispered. “I owe you for David. And you’re the reason I couldn’t take Tess someplace safe.”
Centering the terrorist leader in his sights, he gauged the range. Too far with this piece-of-shit Chinese copy of an AK-47. Damn shame this isn’t a sniper rifle. He watched Almasi and his three companions go into the house. Gotta get closer. He rose, brushed off his clothes, and crept on. I’ll be damned if I’ll let that son of a bitch get away.
He heard voices and crouched beside a candelabra cactus to listen. Two men arguing. There. Twenty feet ahead. Jeez, these guys were dumb. Almasi used to have better help. Max glanced at his Chinese firearm again. Better equipment, too. The economy must have affected terrorists just as it had everyone else.
Still, the rifle had a silencer as well as a scope. He aimed, fired. His first shot caught one of the men behind the left ear. His second bulls-eyed the back of the other guy’s head. The smell of gunpowder drifted on the breeze. Max left the bodies where they fell and crept on toward his goal.
Only a few yards left to go.
Two men with rifles ran out of the front door. Max froze, but they didn’t look his way, just hurried around the house and out of sight. Five men now patrolled the grounds. But they weren’t in his line of approach, so he’d worry about them later. First, he’d take out Almasi.
Anticipation balled in his chest. Almost there. All the years of hunting this bastard were finally about to pay off.
He knelt by a small bush just as a terrorist stepped into view from behind the house. Max dropped him with a bullet to the forehead.
Rushing the last few feet to the nearest wall, he shot a quick glance around then turned in the direction of the front door. He hadn’t gone more than a couple of feet when a quiet step behind him froze the blood in his veins.
Raising his rifle, he whirled around. Too late. The man who’d come around the corner—just as Max turned his back—had the drop on him and was screaming for reinforcements. The commotion brought the other radicals and their guns.
Fuck! A combination of bad luck and rotten timing and the mission was over. Thank God, Tess is with Jim.
“Drop gun, mothersucker. It be over,” said someone from behind him. The voice slaughtering the English language was unpleasantly familiar.
Max could speak Farsi like a native but figured Almasi didn’t need to know that. Dropping his rifle, he raised his hands, and turned around. A bit taller than his underlings, Almasi was just as dark skinned as they were and even more radical. Max had matched wits with him before. Should’ve killed the bastard three years ago, when I had the chance.
“Hello, Almasi,” he said, pleased at how calm and reasonable his voice sounded.
“Max! You not dead. Me thinks me kill you on boat.” Almasi gave him a self-depreciating smile, shook his head, and jabbed his rifle into Max’s side. “Hands on head,” he ordered. “Walk slow at door.” He stopped and looked down at the body of the last man Max had killed. The eyes he raised to Max’s were filled with maniacal rage. “You shoot Hassein!”
Max felt a surge of triumph. Hassein had been important. Good. “You were out of range,” he said with a shrug. “He wasn’t.”
Almasi took a deep breath, his knuckles whitening on the rifle. “Hands on head,” he repeated. “Walk.”
Max complied in silence. There really wasn’t anything more to say. His luck had run out. Another terrorist marched beside them, his gun aimed at Max’s head.
They walked through the front door into a luxuriously furnished room containing a large stone fireplace and several armed men. He recognized Nick and Tony. From somewhere in the house shrilled the voice of an announcer calling out the plays in a ball game.
“Who the hell is this?” Nick demanded.
“CIA man me thinks me kill.” Almasi’s voice held anger, admiration, and chagrin. “He kill one me man, maybe more.”
“We’ll put any bodies inside,” Tony said. “Blow them up with the house.” He frisked Max, found the knife on his belt and the pistol in his waistband, and tossed them to Almasi. “So, what do we do with you, CIA man?”
“Shoot him,” Almasi demanded.
“Wait,” Nick ordered with a smirk. “Let’s make him suffer. We’ll tie him up and throw him in the back bedroom. He can blow up with the house.”
Almasi grinned and nodded. Nick left the room and came back with several yard-long lengths of cord that looked like cut-up clothesline.
“Who wants to do the honors?” he asked.
Almasi stepped forward and took the rope. He shoved Max to the floor, tied his hands behind him, and bound his ankles. Then he bent Max’s knees back and tied a rope between his wrist and ankle bonds, cinching it up so Max couldn’t stretch out his legs. At Almasi’s signal, two men picked Max up and carried him into another room.
The room was bare of furniture, except for a double bed and a nightstand, and lit only by the moonlight streaming through the un-curtained window. They dropped Max on the floor, walked out, and closed the door, leaving him to ponder his situation.
His thoughts flashed to Tess. She’d be okay. Jim would take her to Tom, and Tom would keep her safe from Nick.
Max struggled against the ropes, disgusted by his helplessness. No way could he get free by himself. Damn you, Almasi. How the hell am I supposed to get out of this mess now?
***
7:31 p.m., Hotel La Siesta, La Paz, Baja California Sur:
“Look, I’ve already told you. I. Don’t. Know!” Tess paused and tried to lock down her temper. “The truth doesn’t change just because you don’t want to hear it.”
She’d been asked the same stupid questions over and over all day until she wanted to scream. Bradshaw hadn’t looked pleased she had no information for him. Served him right. Him and Max both.
Bradshaw sighed and rose from his chair. “I guess that’s all the questions I have. For now.” He packed up his notes and tape recorder then picked up his suitcase. “I’ve got an eight o’clock flight to Mexico City. Special Agent Tanner will take care of putting you in protective custody,” he said, gesturing to the FBI agent who’d joined them after Max left. “You’ll be safe with him.”
“Whatever.” She didn’t watch him leave. Tired, hungry, and depressed, she wanted supper and a bed. And a good, long crying jag. Maybe then she’d be able to clear her head.
“Sorry,” Tanner said as soon as the door closed behind Bradshaw. “But it’s hard to believe you had no idea Nicholas McKenzie was making a deal with terrorists.”
“Believe what you want.” She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. “I’m tired and hungry. I’d like something to eat, and then I’d like to go to bed.”
“Sometimes, life just sucks, doesn’t it?”
She glanced up at him. The menace in his smile stunned her. Tanner removed his pistol from his shoulder holster and aimed it at her.
“No,” she breathed.
“I’m afraid so.” His chilling smile widened. “I’ve worked secretly for Nick for years. Not even his grandfather knows.”
Tess studied him, wondering if she could jump him. No, he was too alert. She wouldn’t stand a chance. So, she’d lost after all. The fight drained out of her as despair settled in. After Max’s betrayal, she couldn’t drum up the will to continue. At least it was finally over.
“What are you waiting for? Kill me and get it over with.”
“Not a chance.” His dark chuckle rang with satisfaction, making ice clusters form in her stomach. “I’ll deliver you to Nick and let him kill you. I’ll get the reward, but your blood won’t be on my hands.” He motioned for her to stand up. “After all, I am a cop.”
“Som
e cop. Afraid to do your own dirty work.”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
Tears stung her eyes. Max had called her that, too. Damn it, why couldn’t she be strong, heartless, and cruel like Nick and Max? And Tanner. Did you have to be a man to be that callous?
“Come on.” He gestured with the gun. “And don’t try anything funny. If I have to shoot you, I will. I’ll just tell the Federales you were a fugitive trying to escape.” He backed away. “Pick up your bags, and let’s go.”
Refusing to let him see her pain, she swallowed her tears and got to her feet. “You won’t even carry my bags? Not much of gentleman, are you?”
With a muttered oath, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and rammed the gun in her kidney. “I warned you. Now shut your mouth and pick up your bags before I decide to kill you myself and tell Nick where to find your body.”
Yeah, he would. She had no doubt he’d put a bullet in her back and leave her to bleed to death. At least Nick would be so glad to get rid of her, he’d make it quick and painless. Hopefully.
Resigned, she nodded. He let her go and stepped back. She picked up her bags and moved to the door.
“Don’t try anything,” he warned again, grabbing her arm. “I’ve got the gun in my pocket, and I won’t hesitate to shoot.”
He forced her down the hall and into the elevator. When they reached the lobby, his hold on her arm tightened like a vice grip. Tess nodded to the clerk at the desk. Would it be worth it to scream for help? No. It wouldn’t do any good. Tanner worked for the FBI, so the local police would take his word over hers.
He pulled her out of the hotel and across the street then pushed her into a dark green sedan parked at the curb. As they drove south, she thought about jumping out of the moving car, but decided against it. If she survived it, he’d just flip a U-turn and come after her. She’d have a better chance of escaping from Nick.
They drove several miles before turning into a long gravel driveway leading to a stately, two-story, adobe house. He parked and yanked her from the car. Taking her right arm, he propelled her down the walk to the front door.
She hardly noticed the room she was shoved into, or the five other men in it. All she saw was Nick, standing by the fireplace, smug and self-righteous. It turned the pain in her heart to rage. She wanted to use her fingers as claws and tear the skin off his arrogant face. But when Tanner released her, she forced herself to stay silent and wait.
Nick walked over. “Thanks, man,” he said to Tanner. “I’ll see that you get paid.”
“My pleasure,” Tanner replied. He nodded at Tony and left.
Nick smiled at her. “Welcome, sugar. I’m glad you decided to join the party.”
Knowing her anger would amuse him, she took a firm hold on her temper and kept her voice level as she gave him back some of the criticism he’d once used on her. “Stop trying to be witty, Nick. You haven’t got the brains for it, and it just makes you look more pathetic.” She had the satisfaction of seeing shock flicker on his face before she continued. “But then, you’ve always been an idiot.”
“Watch your mouth,” he snarled, backhanding her.
She ran her tongue over her lips and tasted blood. It acted like a shot of tequila, priming her for the fight, giving her courage and strength. Without a thought to the consequences, she attacked, dragging her nails down his face.
Blood ran down his cheeks. He squealed and staggered backward, grabbing a pistol out of his waistband. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”
She braced herself.
“Easy, slick.” Tony took the gun from Nick and put it on the fireplace mantle. “Revenge’ll be much sweeter if she’s forced to imagine it for a while before it happens. We do want her to suffer, after all.” His lips curved, but the look he aimed at Tess belied any amusement. “Tie her up and throw her in the back bedroom. We’ll blow her up with the house.”
Dread curdled her stomach as Nick yanked her arms behind her back. He tied her wrists together with cord from a pile on the floor. She lifted her chin, refusing to let them see her terror. He tied her ankles then beckoned to a couple of dark-skinned men she assumed were terrorists. “You guys haul her back there and put her with that guy.”
The two men looked at another man. When he nodded, they picked her up and carried her into a room where a man lay on the carpet, trussed up worse than she was. Oh, God. They’ve captured Max.
The men dropped her on the floor then left, closing the door and shutting off the light from the other room. In the moonlight coming through the single window, she could see Max staring at her in disbelief.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. “You should be on your way to Mexico City.” Alarm and frustration vibrated in his voice. “Jim was supposed to keep you safe.”
“Bradshaw’s idea of protecting me was to leave me with FBI agent Tanner, who just happens to work for Nick. Nice going, ace. I managed to avoid Nick just fine until you came along.” Her fury at the whole stupid fiasco made her voice sharp as a knife. “I told you I dreamed I was in danger there, but you wouldn’t listen. Now look where we are!”
“An FBI agent brought you here?” Closing his eyes a moment, he groaned. “Jesus, Tess. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “Jim couldn’t have known about Tanner. I’m sure of it. I’d trust him with my life.”
“But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?” she snarled. “You had to trust him with mine. Now here we are, waiting to die.” She turned her face to the wall. “Save the apology, Max. Even if I could believe you, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Damn it, angel, I was trying to protect you.” Max sighed and cleared his throat. “Listen, you may be able to get us out of here. Curl your body and bring your feet through your arms so your hands are in front of you.”
“Oh yeah. Like I’m really going to do anything you tell me.”
“Don’t be an ass. If we can get untied, we can escape out the window before the house blows. You’re too smart to let us both die just because your pride’s been hurt.”
“My pride? God, you’re an arrogant bastard.” Muttering more insults, she curled her body and brought her feet through her bound hands as he’d said. “Now what?”
“Now, see if you can get the knots undone with your teeth.”
She went to work on the knots at her wrists, biting and pulling until she untied them. “How long have you been in here?”
“I’d guess about half an hour.”
“Why didn’t you get yourself untied?” With her hands free, she started in on her ankle ropes. “Seems a big, bad CIA agent like you should’ve already escaped by now.”
“Almasi tied me up, and he tied my wrists to my ankles. Just like I did the men in the cave. So I can’t do what you’re doing. If you hadn’t shown up, I’d have become part of the rubble from the blast.”
“Oh.” She suppressed a shudder at his words. When the ropes dropped off her ankles, she crawled over and went to work on his.
“Thanks, angel.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned. “I may decide to kill you myself before we’re through.” She used her teeth on a stubborn knot. “I loved you, Max. Trusted you. And you betrayed me. I didn’t know you could be that cruel.”
He stared at her. “Jesus, you—”
A gunshot exploded in the other room. Tess jumped. “What’s happening out there?”
“How should I know? Hopefully, they’re killing each other off.”
When his ropes fell off, he sprang to his feet and grabbed her hand.
She jerked away from him. “Now, what?”
He reached for her again. “First, I—” A second, much louder blast of gunfire cut him off. “That sounded like two shots together.”
They stared at each other a moment before heading for the window together. Then someone rattled the doorknob.
CHAPTER 15
8:02 p.m., on the Sea of Cortez, Baja California Sur:
Levi motored south to the last
outcropping before the rendezvous house, cut his engines, and dropped anchor. Then he took a pair of binoculars to the bow of the cruiser and scouted the terrain.
“Not much cover,” he muttered. If the area around the house didn’t have any better vegetation than this, he was screwed. Without sufficient camouflage, he couldn’t get close enough. And if he couldn’t get close enough, he might as well not have come. He glanced down at his desert-camo cargo pants and long-sleeved, turtle necked T-shirt. “I should’ve gotten the damn gilly-suit.”
Bracing his hands on the railing, he mulled over the problem and remembered that one of his instructors in the SAS had once mentioned a technique that just might work. For use in desperate circumstances, he’d said. Well, these certainly qualified.
He retrieved his duffle and ran below. After taking his weapons out of the bag, he hunted up a ball of twine then stuffed it and his Swiss Army knife in one cargo pocket of his pants and his pistol in another one. Next, he grabbed the rifle and screwed the silencer to the end of the barrel. With one last check to be sure he had everything he needed, he headed for the dinghy.
The small, dark-green-and-gray striped craft sported an engine that had been modified for stealth. Though appalled at Nick’s motives for altering it, Levi was grateful for its quiet purr—no louder than a whisper. Lying flat in the boat, he motored around the point.
Three hundred yards from his target, he killed the engine and drifted silently to the beach, where he hauled the dinghy ashore and hid it behind a patch of shrubbery.
After winding the twine around his torso, he tied it off, pulled up handfuls of desert plants, and stuck the roots under the cords over his back. Though hardly a professional gilly-suit, it should still break up his outline enough no one would notice him in the moonlight. He hoped.
He crouched down to waist height and crept to within sight of the house. Then, dropping to his stomach, he slithered like a snake toward his objective.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and froze. A dark sedan drove down the gravel driveway and paused at the end before pulling out onto the road. Levi hoped it wasn’t Nick or Tony leaving. He aimed his riflescope at the car for a quick look. Nope. Someone he didn’t recognize. As the car drove away, Levi returned his attention to the house. Four armed Middle Eastern men were wandering around outside. Guards, he supposed. They didn’t look very alert, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, these bastards weren’t soldiers. They were murderers who preferred killing innocent civilians rather than facing armed combatants.
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