by Kylie Brant
When she would have hurried up the steps by him, he reached for her bag. “I’ll take care of this.”
“I can handle it.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t relinquish his grip on the suitcase. “Boss’s orders.”
Ava released the bag, hoping her uneasiness didn’t show. She’d refused most of the high-tech tools Samuelson had tried to press on her, but she had accepted the minicamera hidden inside what looked like a normal pen. All parts were plastic or ceramic to pass undetected through security.
Heading into the jet, she reassured herself it was unlikely the item would raise any concerns. She was a cop, and she wouldn’t have found the tiny camera if it hadn’t been shown to her. It certainly looked harmless enough, clipped to a slim notepad in a zippered side compartment.
She paused before heading down the aisle. The surroundings were considerably more opulent than any she’d flown in before. There were six rows with two wide, comfortable-looking leather seats on either side of the aisle. Through an open door in the back she noted another compartment complete with wet bar and couches.
McCabe was seated midway back next to de la Reyes, and the two discontinued their conversation when she made an appearance. The president spoke first.
“Detective Carter.” His face was wreathed in smiles. “It is a pleasure to see you again. Forgive me for not rising. My seat belt is fastened in preparation for departure.”
Cael lifted a brow at her. “You cut it close,” he noted.
Her nerves jittered. Considering the fact that she’d had to completely rearrange both her personal and private life in less than forty-eight hours, it was a miracle she’d made it on time.
And given her continued ambivalence about this task, it would have been a relief if the jet had taken off without her.
As the men resumed their conversation she took a free seat near the back behind an operative of Cael’s she remembered from before. Sibbits, she thought his name was. He was exceedingly thin, as if all excess flesh had been carved away. His receding hairline was graying, and cropped short. The rest of the plane’s occupants were part of de la Reyes’s entourage.
Benton boarded the plane, minus her bag, and took a seat up front. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that her luggage had been thoroughly searched before it had been stowed. The precaution only served to remind her of the precariousness of her situation. Until de la Reyes ascertained the level of infiltration, no one in his government was above suspicion.
And if Ava let her guard down in the slightest, a very different sort of suspicion would fall on her.
The jet’s engines revved. Moments later it began rolling along the runway. She’d never been a nervous flier, but the anxiety from her situation had her remaining seated upright, muscles tight with tension. So it must have been sheer exhaustion that had her asleep before they’d been in the air a half hour.
* * *
Awareness prickled beneath her subconscious. In the dim recesses of her mind, an alarm shrilled. Ava struggled to surface from slumber, but it was like swimming against a powerful current. She couldn’t manage to drag her eyes open.
She was floating in pale green seas, being tugged ashore by an unrelenting tide. The sensation might have been pleasant if she’d felt more in control. As it was, she fought against the inexorable force of nature, found herself betrayed by limbs that had turned weak and molten.
Opening her eyes, she was disoriented to see Cael’s face close to hers, his gaze fixed and intense. It was with no little embarrassment that she realized his eyes were the exact shade of the sea she’d been lost in only moments ago. Sleep shredded defenses and dignity with equal ease. Exploited vulnerabilities usually kept guarded.
“We’ll be landing in fifteen minutes.”
Averting her gaze, she raised her seat forward. “You should have wakened me earlier.”
“I figured you probably needed the sleep. It couldn’t have been easy making all the arrangements you had to on such short notice.”
The innocent words had remorse stabbing through her. She’d called him before she’d contacted DHS, half hoping he’d make the decision easy for her. If he hadn’t invited her along on this particular mission, she would have been off the hook, having done her “duty.”
But he hadn’t made it easy for her. And neither had Samuelson, with his air of condescension, as if her eventual acquiescence had never been in question. She didn’t know which made her feel worse, that she was deceiving a man who paid her salary for the duration of the job. Or that the money itself had played an undeniable part in her decision.
Turning back to McCabe, she said only, “What’s in place so far?” Regardless of Samuelson’s agenda for this trip, she was being paid to provide security protection, and that task would take precedence while she was in San Baltes.
His voice was pitched low. “I’ve got two men on the ground already. They’ll have completed some preliminary work prior to our arrival. De la Reyes was originally scheduled to return to San Baltes tomorrow. His men, including the pilot, just found out this morning of the change of plans. I’ve tried to make sure none of them have had access to outside communication.”
She asked shrewdly, “And the news of his early return has been leaked only to…?”
Cael gave her an approving look. “Rafael Gonzalez is de la Reyes’s chief of Presidential Guard. It’d be like our Secret Service. Pedro Cabrerra was his most senior officer.”
Ava’s spine prickled as she grasped his meaning. “Even if Gonzalez shares Cabrerra’s political leanings, he’d be crazy to try anything now. He has to realize his department will already be under suspicion.”
“Which also makes it more urgent that he act. His entire branch is about to undergo intense scrutiny. If Gonzalez is affiliated with the rebels, he has one last chance to strike before his access to President de la Reyes becomes curtailed.”
She nodded her understanding. “How do we know the rest of his security detail weren’t in on Cabrerra’s plan?”
Cael looked grim. “That’s one of the questions my operatives are checking into. They’re investigating all Cabrerra’s associates, discreetly, of course. I have them meeting us at the airport to provide more security for the trip to the presidential palace.”
“What will we have for weapons?”
“We’ll have access to enough firepower to hold off a small rebel contingent.” At her sharp glance, the corner of his mouth turned up. “Let’s hope it’s not needed. Our team will take over as the first security wave. The nationals will answer to us for now. You’ll be in a rotation providing personal protection to de la Reyes at all times.” His gaze raked her form. “I’ve got a vest for you. You’ll wear it every minute you’re on duty. And with the exception of the limited amount of time you’ll spend sleeping, you’ll always be on duty.” He waited a moment before saying quietly, “Regrets?”
“I don’t waste time on regrets.” It was almost true. There was no way to make amends for her past. No reason why she should feel the need to. Most of the time she believed that. But Samuelson had unerringly pressed exactly the right button to have that old guilt rising to the surface again.
“Good to know.”
There was something in his eyes, in his voice that had her glancing at him. Found him watching her, in much the same way he’d been when she’d first wakened. A slow heat suffused her body just recalling that moment. But she knew none of her inner embarrassment showed on her face. She’d learned long ago how to mask her emotions.
“You’re completely still when you sleep.” His voice had gone whisper soft. “Like a porcelain statue. Not even your expression changes. I imagine you’re like that when you’re in position for a shot.”
There was something curiously intimate in knowing that he’d watched her while she slept. No one else had ever had the opportunity, with the exception of her ex. She’d never “slept” with Alex’s birth father. Not in the literal sense.
She could feel he
at crawling up her neck. Cael McCabe had a knack for catching her off guard, and that would have to change. She knew enough about him to realize he was a man to seize any vulnerability and turn it to his advantage.
She was already vulnerable enough. The deception she was engaged in made an undeniably dangerous situation even more explosive.
* * *
As the jet idled on the runway Ava donned her vest, then sat down to check the weapons she’d been assigned. Two men she didn’t recognize had carried them aboard from one of the three black SUVs parked nearby. Both were beauties, the handgun a nine-millimeter Lugar semiautomatic and a Remington rifle and scope that could have been twins to her SWAT equipment. She strapped on her holster and clipped the pouch of extra ammunition around her waist. Looking around, she saw everyone else similarly equipping themselves, with the exception of de la Reyes, who was speaking on a cell phone. She had protective garb for him, too, before he exited the jet.
She waited patiently as McCabe spoke quietly to the newcomers. They must be the men he said he had on the ground already, gathering intelligence. Switching her attention to the dark waiting vehicles, she surmised McCabe’s plan. The best way to arrange security would be to have the armored cars drive right up to the jet, load the bags and leave without ever entering the airport building. With a VIP like de la Reyes on board, she imagined, that wouldn’t be difficult to arrange.
McCabe and the two strangers got up and headed toward the door. Cael turned back, caught her eye. “Be ready to move out in five minutes.”
She nodded, rising to approach de la Reyes. He was speaking in rapid-fire Spanish, most of which she was able to follow. She was familiar enough with the language to converse with Hispanic victims on the job. She heard him tell whomever he was speaking to that he’d be arriving home tomorrow. So he was following Cael’s orders, at least for now. And from his tone, she thought he was speaking to a woman. McCabe hadn’t mentioned a wife, so maybe a girlfriend.
Glancing out the window, she saw McCabe walking close to the side of one of the SUVs, a long pole in his hand. Checking for bombs on the undercarriage of the vehicle, she noted with approval. He was leaving nothing to chance. The mirror on the other end of the pole would reveal anything hidden beneath. She had no doubt that the interior would be subjected to a similarly rigorous search.
Her spine prickled. His thoroughness was a chilling reminder that de la Reyes hadn’t been delivered to safety once he’d reached his homeland. Just the opposite.
Once de la Reyes ended the conversation, Ava slid into the seat next to him. “You’ll need to put this on before leaving the aircraft.” She handed him his vest. “Just as a precaution.”
The man eyed the garment for a moment before reaching for it. “Mr. McCabe leaves nothing to chance.”
Ava helped him into the vest, expertly fastening it for him. “That quality of his will work in your favor. Your situation calls for caution.”
His expression was rueful. “I am a man of action. But we must take care first that I live to take that action, true?”
“That’s right.”
De la Reyes peered out the window. “How much longer will it be? I have much to do now that I am back.”
“This is all just routine, but as I said, McCabe is a stickler for precautions.”
“So I see,” he murmured, his gaze returning to the window. “He is, as we say in my country, un hombre de la guerra. A man of war, is he not?”
His words jolted her, they so closely resembled her own impression in the briefing just a few short days ago. A warrior. Ready for battle at a moment’s notice.
For the first time she wondered about McCabe’s background. Not his security business, which she’d thoroughly checked out before calling him. But whatever had prepared him for establishing the business. Military, certainly. Special forces, most likely. It would explain that tough edge he maintained that the most civilized of garments or surroundings couldn’t quite mask.
One of the vehicles pulled up to the aircraft steps. Ava led de la Reyes to the doorway. She and Benton flanked the man as they hurried him to the waiting SUV.
McCabe was behind the wheel, Sibbits next to him. Ava had de la Reyes get in the middle with Benton, while she positioned herself in the third seat next to a large leather duffel bag. The president’s men split up into the remaining vehicles. One of McCabe’s operatives rode in each of them. When one SUV pulled out, they followed, and the third brought up the rear.
Cael turned around. He’d donned a pair of mirrored sunglasses. “The gear’s on the seat next to you.”
Ava leaned over to unzip the bag. Spreading it open, she blinked.
It was packed to launch a small war.
There were several grenades, extra weapons and what looked like a portable rocket launcher. There were rifle scopes, binoculars, night-vision goggles and extra ammunition. Ava looked up, caught McCabe’s eyes on her in the rearview mirror. He’d prepared himself for anything.
She withdrew a pair of German-made high-powered binoculars and trained them out the back window. Cordoba was the capital city of San Baltes, surrounded by mountains on three sides and the Pacific Ocean on the other. The natural beauty of the surroundings was in stark contrast to the Third World squalor they traveled through on the highway heading toward the center of the city.
“I’m a big fan of one of your country’s singers. Mirabel Estaban. Have you ever met her?” Benton asked de la Reyes.
“Ah, Senorita Estaban. She is very talented, yes? She sang at my inauguration celebration. Her music is very popular here.”
“I saw her on YouTube. On the Internet? She was wearing this dress cut down to…” Ava glanced up in time to see Sibbits turn in his seat, directing a look at Benton, who spread his hands innocently. “What? It showed her talents, is all I’m saying. Plus she can really sing.”
De la Reyes gave a deep-throated laugh. “You are a man to appreciate a gorgeous woman. I can assure you, my country has many such beauties. Perhaps you will have the opportunity to meet some of them in your stay here.”
Ava returned to her vigil, tuning out the conversation. There were three lanes of traffic traveling in either direction, separated by a median filled with mud, weeds and debris. Their American-made SUVs stood out among the economy-sized vehicles zipping by them.
Something caught her eye and she stilled, peering hard through the binoculars. The late-model Jeep coming up fast in the next lane behind them looked familiar.
“Alert car 3, vehicle to their back and left. We saw that red Jeep when we left the airport. Again when we took the last exit. Three occupants. No, wait. Four.”
A radio crackled, and then she heard Sibbit’s voice. “Vehicle three, ready defensive tactics. Red Jeep with multiple occupants. Left lane, coming fast.”
The Jeep drew nearer and Ava felt a familiar spike of adrenaline. “Weapons sighted. At least two rifles.”
Sibbits repeated the information to the third vehicle, while she heard McCabe speaking into his own radio, ordering the first SUV to drop back and exchange places with them. Benton was urging de la Reyes onto the floor, while he grabbed his weapon.
Ava lowered the high-powered glasses long enough to duck out from under the rifle strap, and readied the weapon. Sliding off the safety, she steadied the rifle, sighted, waiting for the command. The third vehicle swerved behind them into the path of the red Jeep, to force it to decrease its speed.
Except it didn’t slow down. The Jeep slammed into the SUV, and there was a screech of metal on metal. Gunfire was exchanged between the two vehicles.
“Do you have a shot?”
Ava peered through the rifle’s site, readjusted position to make up for the trajectory through two windows. “Yes.”
“Take it.”
The Jeep rammed the third SUV again, sending it spinning into the side rail. Ava saw the man in the Jeep’s front passenger seat swing his rifle toward their vehicle as it raced toward them. Ignoring him for the mom
ent, she concentrated on the driver, and squeezed the trigger once. Twice.
The Jeep’s windshield shattered and the vehicle jerked to the right as the driver slumped over the wheel. The shooter’s shot went wild. Ava saw the passenger in the front seat lower his weapon to wrench at the wheel as it veered into the far lane of traffic in front of an open-bed truck hauling a load of caged chickens.
“Vehicle one dropping back.”
The bullet hole through their back window sent out a spiderweb of cracks, ruining her visual. She reengaged the safety and swung a leg over the seat to kick the window out with one booted foot. Their SUV picked up speed, lengthening the distance away from the Jeep. She saw the other SUV’s occupants returning fire with the shooters in the Jeep before it careened into the median, flipping over on its top.
Ava could hear Cael snapping orders, Sibbits trying to raise vehicle three’s occupants on the radio. De la Reyes was on the phone commanding a police helicopter to contain the scene. But then the Jeep burst into flames.
There would be very little for the police to investigate once they finally arrived.
* * *
“I owe you thanks once again, Senorita Carter.”
Ava shifted uncomfortably, sliding a sidelong glance toward Cael. “It was a team effort, sir.”
They stood in the sitting room of de la Reyes’s opulent personal quarters on the third level of the presidential palace. Antonio stood at a wet bar tucked in a corner, pouring himself a glass of wine. For the first time since she’d met the man she could read weariness on his face.
“It was, yes.” He gave her a small smile as he offered her a glass of wine. Because she could think of no polite way to refuse, Ava took it. “And I have already conveyed my gratitude to Senor McCabe.”
“Have you compiled the list I asked for?” Cael accepted the wine Antonio held toward him.