“Look out!” she shrieked, shoving Culver to one side.
Culver jerked around, his eyes narrowing. Two men in business suits charged out of a room not more than a hundred feet from them. Pilar was in front of him, her body a shield for his. Damn her! Dropping his suitcase, he grabbed her shoulder and hauled her toward the exit door fifty feet away, fingers tightened on the soft fabric of her dress as he literally threw her ahead of him. What was wrong with her, putting herself in the line of fire?
Bullets pinged and snapped around them as Culver ducked and ran, pushing Pilar ahead of him. The machine guns had muzzle suppressors, muting the sound. Bullets stitched an angry path beside his feet, and Culver dug his toes into the thick carpet, hurtling forward, sending Pilar crashing against the wall. She cried out as she hit it, but Culver was already shoving the exit door open. Twisting, he jerked Pilar past him and into the stairwell.
“Run!” he roared between ragged breaths.
Still stunned from the impact, Pilar staggered backward, then caught herself. She saw the terror in Culver’s eyes. Sagging against the cold, concrete wall, she dug in her purse and produced a small handgun.
“Give it to me!” Culver yelled, holding out his hand, his shoulder against the door. At any moment, the henchmen would be upon them. “Get out of here. Run down to the first-floor exit!”
Pilar tossed the gun to him, turned and started down the stairs on wobbling legs. Her breath was coming in sobs as she reached one landing then another. Though her hand was clenched on the cool metal railing, she nearly fell when she heard the rattle of gunfire above her. Where was Culver? Her mind spinning, Pilar realized she had to get to the rental car. It was still in front of the hotel, she was sure; but were the keys in it or had Culver pocketed them?
She heard sudden heavy footsteps descending behind her. Culver. Or was it? Panic pushed her rapidly down the final staircase to the exit door and freedom. Gasping, she spotted the Buick and ran toward it.
A car’s brakes screeched as Pilar ran in front of the vehicle. The driver honked and cursed, but Pilar ignored him as she reached the rental car and jerked open the driver’s-side door. Yes! The keys were still in the ignition! Getting in, she started the engine. Where was Culver? Was he hurt? Dying? Oh, Dios, please, get us out of this alive… .
Pilar backed the car out just as Culver burst from the exit door. She honked, and he halted, turned and ran toward her, gun in hand. As he leapt into the passenger side, she jammed her foot on the accelerator, nearly ripping the door from his hand as he slammed it shut.
“Get down!” he roared, his hand suddenly on the back of her head, pushing her below seat level. Bullets popped through the window, showering them with glass.
Peering out, Pilar yanked the car into the traffic, weaving and accelerating at the same time. She was aware that Culver’s hand had left her hair. He had twisted around, looking out the shattered rear window.
“Keep going. Keep going. I don’t see them.”
As much as she hated Lima because it was such a big city, Pilar had grown up here, and she knew every back alley and side street. She drove relentlessly, making sudden turns to avoid red lights. For nearly an hour, they wove their way through the city, until finally they were out in the country once more, the lights of Lima behind them.
Pilar had been trembling for half an hour. Wind whipped through the damaged rear window, chilling her taut nerves. She could feel Culver’s tension as if it were her own. Her mouth dry, she managed to say shakily, “I think we’ve lost them, don’t you?”
Culver glanced at Pilar in the dusk. “I think so,” he said, noting how pale she looked with the wind whipping her hair wildly around her face. He could see small rivulets of blood near her temple where flying glass must have struck her. Her lips were parted, her eyes huge with terror. Without thinking, he reached over and stroked her cheek, wiping at the blood. “You’re hurt… .”
Pilar gasped as Culver’s rough fingers touched her, sending electric tingles racing across her skin.
Jerking back his hand, Culver cursed richly. He hadn’t meant to touch Pilar. She’d made it all too clear that she wouldn’t welcome it, and now that same look was on her face, making him feel like hell.
“I—I’m okay. It’s just a scratch. Are you okay?” Pilar whispered tremulously.
“I’m fine,” he snarled. Relaxing for the first time, he said, “It looks like your friend Hector screwed us royally.”
Gasping, Pilar darted a look at him before returning her eyes to the road. As darkness fell, the traffic around them became very light. “What are you saying?”
“That Hector gave us up to Ramirez’s men.”
“No!” Pilar cried. “No, that is impossible!”
“Do you have a better explanation of what went on?” He glared at her.
“Not right now. But we need to stop. I need to call Hector.”
“Call him?” Culver couldn’t keep the derision out of his voice. “You want to call him so he can run a trace on where we are and finish us off?”
“Listen to me, Culver, Hector is not our enemy!”
“Yeah, and at one time I thought you loved me, too.”
Pain sheared through Pilar, so unexpected and shattering that she braked and pulled the car abruptly off the road onto the berm. Turning toward him, she rasped, “I can’t help the past, Culver. I live in a hell because of it. But that was then, and this is now. We must call Hector. He’s our only contact in the government. Without him, we’re alone, and we’re going to need coordinated help if we have a prayer of rescuing Morgan. You know that!”
Culver was breathing hard, the air seeming to sear his lungs as he held Pilar’s raw gaze, taking in the anguish that burned in the depths of her eyes. Her voice was raspy, and as a flash of headlights momentarily illuminated her, he thought he saw tears glistening in her eyes. No, it was impossible. The seemingly innocent college girl who had played him for a fool would hardly be crying now.
“Look, the Peruvian government is riddled like buckshot with moles,” he said in a low, guttural tone. “You know that and so do I. Hell, that’s what damn near got me killed eight years ago, Pilar. Or have you conveniently forgotten that, too?”
Pilar felt as if he’d slapped her. “Stop it! Stop it! I have forgotten nothing, Culver. Do you hear me? Nothing!” She was sobbing for breath. Fists clenched, she rattled, “I know our government isn’t trustworthy. But Hector is!”
“We should head out to your village in the jungle,” he snapped. “Leave Lima, Hector and everything else behind.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because,” Pilar rasped, “my daughter is at my apartment in Lima. I must go back, Culver. I can’t leave her there.”
Culver raised his eyes heavenward. “For God’s sake, why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I was going to leave you at the hotel and go pick Rane up.” Pilar swallowed hard, her voice sounding worried. “Culver, what if they know where Rane is? They could take her hostage… .”
“Then where the hell were you headed just now?”
Pilar felt as if she were being physically assaulted, his words raining on her like blows. “I was going to take you to my village, to my grandparents’ hut. You’ll be safe there.”
His mouth compressed. “And then what? You were going to drive back to Lima alone for your daughter?”
She smarted beneath his glare. “Yes.”
Culver swore and sat back.
“I know you don’t want to be here. I know you don’t want to do this mission with me.” Her voice cracked. “I was just trying to make it easier on you—”
“Easier?” He turned, gripped her shoulders and shook her. “What the hell’s easy about this? Nothing. Not a damn thing. But you aren’t going back into that snake pit without me. You hear me? Next time, talk to me—let me know what’s going on in that head of yours. I’m not a mind reader, Pilar, as you well know. I thought I
knew you at one time, but I don’t. I never did.” He released her and his mouth flattened. “I thought I knew you…but I’ve learned. So from now on, you tell me what you’re thinking, dammit.”
Swiping at the small trickle of blood on her cheek, Pilar drew in a deep, unsteady breath. “All right, I’ll tell you what I think. I have to go back to Lima and pick up Rane. I think we should try to call Hector from a pay phone somewhere after we know she’s safe. Then we’ll take her to my grandparents in the village, where she’ll be protected.” Her skin seemed burned where Culver had gripped her, but she felt herself drawing an odd sort of strength from his action—and the need to protect her that still seemed to run deep in him.
“Don’t tell Hector where we are or where we’re going. Most of all, we have to keep your daughter out of this. Taking her to the village is a good idea.”
Shaking in earnest, Pilar raised her hands and struggled to steady her emotions. “Rane is so young. What if they’ve taken her? I’ve tried so hard to protect her, to—”
“Okay,” Culver said harshly, unbuckling his seat belt, “move over. I’m going to drive. Don’t worry, we’ll get your daughter. She’ll be fine.”
Pilar eased her hands from her face and looked at him. She had expected Culver’s expression to be harsh and emotionless, but it was anything but. His narrowed eyes gleamed with an unexpected tenderness that she had thought she’d never see again. “Y-yes,” she whispered, opening the door. “You drive.”
Chapter 4
Pilar tried to gather her strewn emotions as Culver drove steadily back toward the lights of Lima. It was ten o’clock—dinnertime for most of Lima’s residents—and traffic had once again become light. Taking a handkerchief from her purse, Pilar wet it with her saliva and tried to wipe away the remnants of blood on her temple and cheek.
Nearly all of her attention was centered on Rane—getting her out of Lima and to some semblance of safety. Just having Culver in the car with her steadied her frayed nerves somewhat. She stole occasional glances at his rugged profile, which reminded her of the Andes—relentlessly harsh yet beautiful, suggesting a stoic loneliness. The tight line of his mouth revealed that he, too, was worried. They hadn’t spoken since night had fallen, the darkness like a cocoon in which to hide their thoughts and feelings.
Culver broke the silence as they once again approached Lima. “Tell me the best way to get to your apartment.”
“We should probably take an indirect route, using small side streets,” Pilar suggested.
“I’m in agreement. We don’t want to risk being seen by one of Ramirez’s men again.”
“You think it was his men who tried to kill us?”
“No question in my mind.” Culver shot her a glance. Beneath the streetlights, Pilar’s face appeared taut and colorless. She had wiped away the telltale blood at her temple, but her eyes were wide, and he could see terror and anxiety in them. Even now she was beautiful. They’d almost been killed. He could have lost her. His heart squeezed in pain at the idea. No, he didn’t want to lose her. Despite all she’d done to him, she still managed to look innocent—and vulnerable—as if life hadn’t hardened her as it had him.
Culver digested those discoveries about Pilar. Her hair was windblown, in mild disarray around her soft, oval face, and she seemed untouched by the unfolding events except for her concern for her daughter. On that point, Culver agreed with her. No child deserved to be caught in the cross fire between adults. Pilar’s daughter was too young to protect herself, and her safety had to come first, before their own.
Pilar began giving him directions as they entered Lima. “It’s an apartment east of the city. My housekeeper, Alexandra Somoza, lives there with us,” she explained as they wound their way through quiet back streets tightly lined with houses.
“Good, then Rane has someone to take care of her.”
“Yes,” Pilar whispered unsteadily, “she does.”
“So you think your grandparents’ village is the best place for her?”
“It’s safer there.”
“Why not leave her with Hector?”
Pilar heard the derision in Culver’s voice and met his eyes momentarily. “Hector would put her in a safe house if I wanted, but Rane is sensitive, and I know she would be frightened. No, I want her with people who love her. She’s used to going out to the village on weekends with me. My grandparents love her dearly. They will see to her safety.”
“There’s a possibility Ramirez or the mole inside the government knows exactly where your grandparents live.”
“I know that.” Pilar touched her aching temple. “It’s a risk I have to take. I don’t see a better option.”
“We can’t take her with us.”
“No!” Pilar didn’t mean to sound so alarmed, but she couldn’t help herself. “Rane has been protected all her life. She knows nothing of what I once did for a living. I want my daughter to be able to sleep at night without nightmares.”
“Did you have nightmares after you quit your job as an agent?”
Pilar avoided his sharp look. A lone car passed them as they moved down a curving side street. “I have them to this day, sometimes,” she whispered.
“Part of the trade.”
“Isn’t it, though.” Pilar gave Culver more directions, then murmured, “I don’t know how you continue to be an agent.”
His smile was cutting. “I was about to turn in my resignation to Jake when this thing began to unfold,” he admitted. “I’ve had it. All I want is to get back to the land, where I belong.”
“You talked of wanting to live with my people at one time,” Pilar reminded him quietly. Culver had confided in her during their three months together that he’d fallen in love with her village and the jungle. She glanced at him shyly. “What would you rather be doing?”
Culver shrugged, never losing his awareness of passing automobiles. “I’m not sure. Some of my ancestors were Scottish seafarers who sailed the world, so I think it’s in my genes to travel. But we always had an anchor, a homebase to come back to after wandering.” His mouth flattened. “I guess that’s what I’m missing most now—a home.”
Pilar absorbed his words. This was the first time Culver hadn’t treated her coldly. He was more like his old self, the person she remembered from so long ago. “I…never knew much about your background—before.”
His laugh was sharp. “Yeah, we didn’t spend too much time doing background checks on each other, did we?”
Heat rushed into Pilar’s face at his words. They had been thrown together on a makeshift CIA mission, and the moment their eyes met, they’d both felt the undeniable electricity. The ache to touch Culver, to find out what it would be like to kiss him, had become almost an obsession to Pilar that first month. Once some of the danger eased, they had come together like the sudden thunderstorms that gathered so quickly and unexpectedly over the Peruvian jungle. Pilar had never forgotten that first time—nor any of the times they shared. Those memories were the stuff her dreams were made of. Even now.
Culver saw how his comment had hurt Pilar. She had turned her face away, pretending to look out the window, but the shame in her expression was clear, arousing an anger directed mostly at himself, but also at her for her ability to affect him at the deepest levels. What they’d had, while it lasted, was the best thing he’d ever experienced. He no longer knew what Pilar would call their coming together, but for him, it had been love. Pilar had brought her virginity, her innocence to him, had walked trustingly into his arms, her eyes guileless. And he’d taken her that humid jungle night, surrounded by the aphrodisiac fragrance of orchids clinging to the surrounding trees. To this day, Culver could not separate memories of her from the heady, exotic scent of those rare flowers. Nor did he want to.
“Turn here,” Pilar said in a choked voice. “We can park a block down on the right.”
“I don’t want to stop in front of the apartment,” he warned. “They could be waiting for us.”
“We
’re two blocks away.”
Culver nodded, respecting Pilar’s intelligence as an agent. Despite her overriding fear for her daughter, she was keeping a cool head. “I thought your skills might be a little rusty, but they don’t seem to be,” he murmured, braking and pulling into a parking space in the block she’d indicated.
“I am rusty, as you put it,” Pilar admitted as he shut off the engine. Gathering up her purse, she un-snapped her seat belt. “I can use all the help you can give me.”
Culver nodded and looked around the quiet, darkened neighborhood. “This is one of the wealthy sections of town, if my memory serves me,” he said in a low tone.
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad you did well for yourself, Pilar.”
His words cut her to her soul. Compressing her lips, she opened the car door as she said, “Fernando was one of the finest, most gentlest men I have ever known. He cared for us. He protected us.” She choked back the rest as she glared over at Culver, recognizing the jealousy in his darkened eyes.
“I cared for you, too. I protected you. But I guess that wasn’t enough, was it?”
Pilar wanted to cry at the pain in his voice, but now was not the time. “It’s the past,” she cried softly. “Let it go!” Leaving the car, she hurried down the sidewalk, her hand in her purse, touching her pistol. If only she could shield herself from Culver’s angry sniping as easily. She knew she had it coming, and she felt helpless to protect herself.
As she climbed wrought-iron steps that she knew led to an alley that would take them to her apartment building, she felt Culver’s presence. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him approach soundlessly, his strides much longer than her own. His face was set and unreadable, but she could sense the anger throbbing around him. Well, he had every right to be angry.
“Take it easy,” he growled, coming up to her side. “Slow down.” His gaze moved ceaselessly, casing the street as they walked. Many areas weren’t lit by the sparse streetlamps and he and Pilar stuck to the shadows. Large apartment buildings rose on either side of them, and small trees lined the boulevard, with a few concrete benches at bus stops. Culver longed to reach out and touch Pilar’s arm—just in case. Matching his stride to her much-shorter one, he remained on her streetside.
Morgan's Rescue Page 6