Terms of Attraction

by Kylie Brant

  But telling herself that didn’t vanquish the trepidation curling in her stomach.

  However, his words had nothing to do with their earlier conversation. “I’ve got Perez and Reynolds in the field. I’ll need you to take a shift at Gonzalez’s quarters until Perez gets back in.”

  Shrugging off weariness, Ava agreed immediately. “All right. Where’s he being held?”

  “I’ll show you.” Cael waited for her to cross the room and closed the door behind her, before leading her through the halls toward an exit.

  “I’ll have a meal sent out, of course. Perez won’t be back until late, so I’ll spell you in a few hours.”

  “The head of Justicia told de la Reyes they’ve frozen Ramirez’s assets.”

  Cael nodded. His stride was long, but she easily kept up with him as they made their way through the wending hallways. “I met with him after the meeting. His forensic analysts also have determined that a large unexplained deposit was made into both Cabrerra’s and Gonzalez’s account late last week.”

  Ava looked at him, adrenaline spiking. “While de la Reyes was in the States.”

  “That’s right.” Cael’s frustration was apparent. “He’s given us nothing so far, but I’m looking forward to hitting him with this new evidence and seeing if he gets more talkative. I don’t want to trust any of his own men with the translation, though, so it’ll have to wait until Perez or Reynolds gets back.”

  “I can translate.” The offer was out of her mouth before she even took the time to consider it. But she found herself as eager as Cael to take the investigation to the next level and determine if Cabrerra’s superior was as dirty as he’d been.

  “You’re bilingual?”

  “As inconvenient as that turned out to be today,” she said dryly, “I am. Fluent enough to translate if you want to interrogate the chief of the National Guard right now.”

  He’d stopped in his tracks and was studying her speculatively. “You seem to have all sorts of hidden talents, Ava.” But his tone was anything but admiring.

  Annoyed, she shrugged. “Or you can wait for Perez. It doesn’t matter to me.”

  “I’d rather do it now.” He still hadn’t moved, but she knew his mind was racing. “I’m not fluent enough to be sure I’m making myself understood, especially to elicit the kind of details we’re looking for.” He was silent for a moment, regarding her with his piercing gaze. He’d pulled a shirt on over the ribbed undershirt he’d appeared in at dawn, and it matched the green fatigues he wore. The hue made his eye color more striking, and noticing that annoyed her.

  She was here to do a job. Responding to McCabe on any level was a diversion she could ill-afford. The lecture she’d leveled at the guardsmen earlier could just as easily be applied to her. Distractions put lives at risk.

  And that was only one of the many reasons it was a mistake to respond to this man. On any level.

  As if coming to a sudden decision, he said, “Let’s do it.” He was moving again and she remained silent as they wound their way through the different levels of security he’d established inside and outside the palace walls.

  Acres of well-tended grounds surrounded the palatial structure. Cael strode to a jeep parked nearby and once she got in, drove well beyond the palace, through yet another gate in a decorative stone wall.

  Ava saw what amounted to a small village. It was here that the help would live.

  Cael’s next words underscored her impression. “Cooks, housekeepers and gardeners stay here.” He gestured to rows of attached apartments, each slightly larger than an American double garage. “Their schedule is a fourteen-six rotation. Two straight weeks of work, then six days free. Most of them travel some distance to get home and see their families. But the leave and pay are regarded as quite generous in this country.”

  The jeep bumped along the brick drive, painted a dull red. The apartments and curb were whitewashed, and everything looked neat and well tended, if lacking the jaw dropping landscaping of the main grounds. But it was another half mile before Cael pointed to row upon row of single-story structures, much larger than the two-tiered apartments.

  “These house the palace guard. Gonzalez is in the back one that sits in the center.”

  Ava recognized Benton standing outside the structure with an AR-15 rifle strapped across his chest. A thought occurred. “I would imagine that putting their senior officer under house arrest didn’t go over too well with the guardsmen.” She could attest to her team’s antipathy, at least. “What’s to stop them from overpowering the guard and releasing their superior?”

  “If they’re loyal to de la Reyes that allegiance will outweigh their fidelity to Gonzalez.”

  He seemed to be skirting the obvious. “And if they’re not?”

  “Then we hope the explosives we wired to Gonzalez’s quarters, in full sight of the guardsmen, will serve as adequate deterrent from any zealots intent on a rescue.” Cael’s grin was sharkish.

  Remembering the weaponry and explosive devices in the back of the SUV they’d driven from the airport, Ava subsided. She had no doubt about his expertise with wiring and detonators. If he’d fitted Gonzalez’s quarters with a combination of those, a rescue attempt would end up killing both the head of the palace guard, and the would-be rescuers.

  It went without saying that whichever of Cael’s operatives were standing guard would be dead first.

  He pulled to a stop before the quarters and jumped out. Ava followed more slowly, as he engaged Benton in conversation. Walking up to the men, she saw the other operative flick her a glance and say, “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  Heat shot up her spine and she kept her expression carefully blank. He’d been the one to search her luggage, of course. The one to turn the camera over to his boss. And while McCabe had his own reasons for keeping her on here, it was clear that Benton didn’t share them.

  “I’m sure. Take the jeep and go get something to eat before grabbing some sleep. You’ll be on de la Reyes again in a few hours.”

  The man wanted to argue. Ava could see that in his expression, which had suspicion flickering in it. But he was nothing if not well trained. Without another word he left them, climbed into the jeep and pulled away.

  McCabe spent several moments keying in a code to the security keypad on the outside of the door. Then he took a bunch of keys from his pocket and inserted the proper one to unlock three different locks.

  “Weapon ready.”

  Ava had her gun in her hand before the words even left his mouth. With a grim nod, he drew the sleek Luger from his shoulder holster and took up position at the other end of the doorway, swinging the door in.

  When she followed him inside Ava saw a lone man, clad in undershirt, boxers and socks, seated in a leather recliner. If it weren’t for the zip cord binding his ankles and wrists and the tether leading from them to a hook drilled into the plastered wall, he’d look like a middle-aged man relaxing on a weekend morning.

  Of course, there was nothing relaxed about Rafael Gonzalez’s expression. “Hijo de Satan,” the man spat. His look was venomous.

  “Senor Gonzalez.” Cael’s voice was pleasant enough as he dragged a straight-backed chair out of the dining room to set it in front of the man. After gesturing Ava to it, he pulled another up for himself. “I understand you have been fed and given periodic restroom breaks, as per my instructions. Are there any medications you take regularly that we should be aware of?”

  Ava repeated Cael’s words in Spanish. The man’s expression flickered a bit, but she thought it was in response to her command of his language rather than McCabe’s inquiry about his well-being. He didn’t appear to be a fan.

  “Vaya al infierno.”

  Since the man’s suggestion that Cael go to hell didn’t appear to need a translation, Ava didn’t offer one.

  Gonzalez was barrel chested and thickly built, a powerful-looking man who should have appeared diminished by his position, but did not. He looked, she thought, pisse
d off and defiant. But not visibly frightened. He rattled off a spate of Spanish in a rush of angry words.

  “He demands to know what you’ve done with President de la Reyes. He doesn’t believe that the president ordered his imprisonment,” Ava relayed.

  “Maybe this will convince him.” With his free hand, Cael extracted a folded sheet of paper with a seal on the back. He tossed it on the man’s lap.

  Gonzalez didn’t so much as spare it a look. He never took his gaze off McCabe. “Tell him de la Reyes wrote the order for his imprisonment himself,” Cael instructed. “The special seal is the one Gonzalez himself suggested used for times such as these to prove the missive isn’t written under duress.”

  After Ava translated, the man’s eyes lowered to the paper on his lap. It was tri-folded, like a letter. With his bound hands he clumsily turned it over, then stilled when he saw the seal securing it. And when he opened it, scanned the short message, he paled. Then he looked at Ava and spoke heatedly.

  “He believes someone, probably you, has convinced the president of his guilt.”

  When she stopped then, Cael’s brows rose. “I didn’t catch all of it, but I know he said more.”

  She cocked a brow at him. “He also questioned your parentage, your manhood and sexual preference.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to address those last two issues with him,” he murmured meaningfully.

  Since the words were meant to embarrass her, she refused to give him the satisfaction. “I can’t say I have proof either way, so I’ll pass.”

  “We could always rectify that,” he suggested, ignoring Gonzalez for the moment. There was a light in his eyes, a dangerous heat. “What the hell, give you a bit more firsthand information to share with Samuelson.”

  “I can’t imagine who’d be less impressed with that sort of information, Samuelson or me.”

  A corner of his mouth kicked up at that. But he said only, “Tell him we have proof he is working for Ramirez. That he’s a traitor to his president. To his country.”

  When Ava obeyed, Gonzalez’s reaction was fierce and immediate. When the man had halted his speech, trembling with fury, she translated, “You impugn his honor with your accusations. He has risked his life to keep the president safe. He wants to know what proof you could possibly have.” She paused, smirking. “He also suggested that you spend your nights engaged in illicit activity with farm animals.”

  He slanted her a glance, the humor fading from his expression. “Let’s keep the translation focused on the facts involving Gonzalez’s involvement.”

  Her tone was innocent. “I thought you wanted to hear everything.”

  “I did. But you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Withdrawing another paper from his shirt pocket, he handed it to Gonzalez. “Let him know that we have proof a large sum of money was deposited into his account recently. Ask him to deny that’s his signature on the deposit slip.”

  Gonzalez made no move to unfold the paper until Ava had finished speaking. Then he opened it with the air of a man perusing his own death warrant. He shook his head violently, speaking to Ava in rapid Spanish.

  “He says the signature looks like his but he did not sign such a slip. He denies all knowledge of it and claims someone is trying to make him look guilty.” She paused while the man spoke again. “On the date listed on the slip, he was engaged in all-day training sessions with his men. He has hundreds of witnesses.”

  “And he must realize we know he didn’t have to go to the bank himself to deposit that money. He could have filled out the slip and sent it along with someone else. Tell him to quit jerking me around.” Cael’s tone had grown hard. “If he has nothing else to share, he’s wasting my time. I want information about the job Ramirez paid him for. The one he had Cabrerra try and carry out. What is Ramirez planning now that de la Reyes is back in the country?”

  The man’s protests to Ava’s translation increased in volume. His black heavy mustache fairly quivered with outrage.

  “He says one of Ramirez’s men approached him once, not long after the election. He offered Gonzalez money—far more money than that deposit—to provide them with information regarding de la Reyes’s security and schedule. Gonzalez says he refused. He suggests that perhaps they next approached Cabrerra with a similar offer.”

  “And that’s where his story breaks down for me. Head of the president’s security force and he didn’t report the offer to de la Reyes? Did he tell anyone?”

  Ava relayed Cael’s questions, could tell Gonzalez’s answer in the shift of his gaze from hers. His response was a long time coming.

  “He says he was afraid telling de la Reyes he’d been approached would shake the president’s faith in him. Perhaps regard him as a weak link in the security. He took efforts to warn his guard unit continually to report to him if they were contacted.”

  “Bullshit.” Cael lurched from his chair, frustration rife in his movements. “So is that what Cabrerra did? Run to him and report that he’d accepted five thousand dollars to assassinate the San Baltes president when he was off-continent? Because that’s the amount we found in his account. Half what we found in Gonzalez’s.”

  Her voice quiet, Ava leveled the questions in Spanish to the guard chief. The man only shook his head. He appeared smaller somehow since they’d started. As if the evidence against him and mention of his trusted second in command had carved away his defiance.

  “No tenia ninguna idea que Cabrerra era corrupto. Habria estacado mi vida en su lealtad. Estaque el presidente vida de s en el. Y lo casi mataron consecuentemente.”

  “I had no idea that Cabrerra was corrupt,” Ava translated softly. “I would have staked my life on his loyalty. I did stake the president’s life on it. And he was almost killed as a result.”

  Cael stared hard at the man for a long moment. She wondered if he was as close to believing him as she was. The evidence against him looked damning. But it would be easy enough to forge a signature, wouldn’t it? Especially with Cabrerra working so closely with the man. Simpler still to deposit money in an account to frame Gonzalez.

  “We’ll look at the security tapes for the day of the deposit,” Cael said finally. “He remains in custody until we have positive proof of his innocence.” He got up, leaving Ava to translate, and walked to the door.

  She joined him outside and he reengaged the security system. “Anyone could have made that deposit to point suspicion toward Gonzalez.” She holstered her weapon, although she kept the grip unsnapped.

  “They could.” He turned to regard her, his expression thoughtful. “But we’re left with the question of why. Say Cabrerra had gotten away with the assassination. U.S. police would think the killer was one of the wackos who’d called in a death threat, or someone like them. There was no reason to point suspicion at Gonzalez. Not when Cabrerra also had a smaller deposit to his account. It makes them both look guilty.”

  “And muddies the waters for any investigation of their bank funds.”

  “I’d say they’re sufficiently muddied at this point. He could also be a convincing liar, faced with evidence of his guilt, trying like hell to make it seem like Cabrerra was in on it by himself.” He surprised her then by asking, “What’s your read on him?”

  “He was convincing,” she admitted. Her gaze scanned the area around them, taking note of the off-duty guardsmen coming and going from their barracks. “But I’m stuck on the motivation issue, too. Ramirez might hate Gonzalez enough for turning him down that he wants to ruin him. But to what end? That money was put in their accounts while de la Reyes was still in America. The assassination hadn’t yet gone wrong. Who did Ramirez think was going to look in the bank accounts and why bother when the plan was to make it look like an American citizen had killed the president?”

  “It might have been blackmail, I suppose.” Cael leaned against the doorjamb with a nonchalance that Ava didn’t share. Call her paranoid, but she didn’t intend to touch the house he’d wired with explosives unless absolutely
necessary. “Maybe Ramirez was hedging his bets. If the assassination is successful, he’s only out ten thousand dollars. If not, they could have been planning some way to cast suspicion on Gonzalez and away from a U.S. citizen. We may have even thwarted those plans by getting the forensic accounting done so quickly. De la Reyes would be persuaded to choose another chief of security.”

  “Maybe,” she said. If there was another explanation for the deposit, it involved a plan they could only speculate on. It was far more likely that Gonzalez was as guilty as he looked, despite his convincing act earlier. “We can’t afford to trust him at this point.”

  “Agreed. Trust is in short supply on this trip, at any rate.” It wasn’t so much the tone of his voice as the meaningful look in his eye.

  “Something tells me you don’t exactly overflow with the quality on the best of days.” She was through feeling guilty for her duplicity. His motives in relation to Samuelson weren’t exactly pure. “You know you and Samuelson have a lot in common.” She didn’t noticed the stillness that came over him at the words. Not then. “Both of you are bullies. Both will use your position to strong-arm people into giving you what you want. And both of you deserve to be taken down a notch.”

  “An interesting observation.” The bleakness in his eyes stemmed the temper that had prompted her outburst. “But any similarities between us are purely coincidental.”

  Cael turned away as a thought hit him with a force that nearly sent him reeling. He and the DHS agent had been dancing around this antipathy for years. It had gotten steadily stronger on Cael’s side with the man’s consistent efforts to undermine him.

  What if Samuelson knew him better than he thought? Ava might be more than the latest attempt to damage him and his credibility. Could Samuelson have sensed she was a woman he’d react to?

  What if she’d been selected as the very personal weapon of Cael’s destruction?

  CHAPTER 6

  Cael pored over the painstaking directions Reynolds had written down to the rebel camp, comparing them to the topographic map of the country.