Eye of the Storm

by Amy McKinley

  He rested his hand on her hip, unable to stop touching her. For good or bad, she’d already become a part of him. “So you didn’t fall for me again right away?” Her small gasp drew him closer. Screw the heat. No matter where they were, he wanted her.

  “You went to attack Hannah. I worried. Then when you woke and focused on me and my gun was gone in a flash.” She shook her head, and a small smile teased the corners of her mouth. “You move so quickly. I’ll admit, those moments made me cautious. Then there was every time you showed me concern and compassion, when you looked at me and your eyes darkened with desire, when you put me before you every single time, and when you touched me with such care.” She blinked back the fine mist that coated her eyes and softly laughed. “My feelings for you deepen with every moment we spend together. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but whatever it is, I’m very lucky.”

  Fuck. No matter the reason their paths had crossed, he was damn grateful. Even though she skirted around whether they’d met before their time in the jungle, he didn’t really care in that moment. He pulled her forward by increasing the pressure on her hip. For a few minutes, he would indulge in the softness of her lips. Then, they’d get down to business and hit the cartel where it hurt them the most—their inventory.

  Chapter 26

  Chris

  Map in hand, Chris studied the few places Mari had identified as Ramirez coca fields. Their plan was to go there after they hit up the marina. If they struck the surrounding farmland first, there would potentially be tighter security on the outgoing shipments. The farms would be relatively easy, even though she seemed nervous.

  “Stop biting your lip. You’re going to make it bleed.” He brushed his thumb over her swollen bottom lip. “This is a piece of cake. Trust me.”

  “I do. I’m just worried. There are no rules for them. They don’t care who they hurt.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “And no one has been able to stop them before.”

  He covered her hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. His unease at her lie melted away with one look and one touch from her.

  He wanted to weaken the organization and send as many of the cartel members as he could scattering as they attempted to salvage what he and Mari would destroy with C4. That way, there would be fewer of them around their intended target, Juan Carlos. “It’ll be fine. We’re observing first, and you’re telling me everything you know while we watch them.” After the explosions went off, his brothers would know he was close by. That’s when they’d team up together and do the real damage.

  She bobbed her head in acceptance and stuck close to him as they slipped through the banana-shipping yard, keeping out of sight of the workers and security. Crouched down, they dashed for the cover of crates until they made it to the building where they housed the equipment. A rusted ladder was screwed against the side of the steel wall, and they climbed the rickety steps to the roof. From there, they would have a great view of the harbor and all the workers. Lying flat, they peered over the edge, and Chris was thankful for the cover of dusk.

  “Tell me what you’ve heard about how they ship the raw cocaine out. I already know about the barrels. When it’s darker, I’ll go down and check them. But what else?”

  A shiver coursed through her, and she pressed tighter against his side. He could tell that she was terrified of what the cartel would do to them if they were caught. They wouldn’t be.

  “The crates. Sometimes they’ll pack the stuff flattened and in tinfoil. They’ll line the inner flaps of the boxes. With the bananas on top. The barrels”—Mari pointed a quivering finger at rows of blue canisters on a large barge—“are filled. I don’t know, it may be something like two to five hundred thousand dollars’ worth. I’m not sure how much is really in the crates with the bananas.”

  “All right.” Workers were packing up to go home for the day, leaving the wooden pallets where they were, probably to be loaded tomorrow. From what it looked like, this shipment was set to go sometime tomorrow. Security guards—well, men with machine guns—patrolled the grounds. Once he was closer, he’d be able to tell if they were private sector, paramilitary, or cartel. It didn’t matter, so long as they hit the intended targets hard and got out before they were identified.

  The sky darkened, and so did the marina below them. The occasional flare of a cigarette or cigar as one of the men took a drag was the only artificial light. A thrill at being back in action raced through Chris. It brought back the times he and his family—the ones he’d run with when he was younger—would cause trouble. Too bad they aren’t here. They’d fucking love this, too.

  With his hand on Mari’s shoulder, he nudged her, then moved to caress the curve of her neck. Leaning in, he whispered his intentions. “I’m heading down. I’ll check the boxes—”

  “They’ll be in the bottom flaps.”

  The pulse in her neck fluttered, and he chuckled. “Right. I kind of figured that’d be what they’d do. The top would be too easy to find. Stay here, and no matter what, be quiet. Unless”—a wave of dark intent swept through him—“someone comes up here and tries to start any shit with you.”

  She nodded with wide eyes. He brushed a kiss on her forehead before he carefully made his way to the rusty ladder.

  Steering clear of the armed men, Chris sprinted over to a group of boxes on top of a pallet. As quietly as he could, he turned one upside down and opened the bottom with his knife. Nothing was there. He was about to check more, but the boat drew his attention. A guard strolled along several feet away, right in Chris’s path to the ship. Crouching, he waited until the man moved on, saying something to his buddy as he caught up to him. They didn’t follow a standard patrol pattern. Untrained amateurs. When it was relatively safe to dart toward the vessel, Chris took off.

  He was a ghost. They had no clue he was there. It made sense, since he was part of a Special Forces group—Gray Ghosts. They’d been doing this type of stealth shit since they were young and mostly homeless. It wasn’t until much later that they decided to make it legal. The gauntlet thrown down by the authorities was too sweet to pass up. Their entire group took the tests for the Navy, and he regarded it as the best decision they’d ever made.

  It was either that or jail. It had been a no-brainer.

  He reached the ship and boarded, keeping to the darkest areas, and almost tripping on a crowbar. He grabbed the crowbar and quietly pried open one of the tops. Bingo. He dipped his finger inside the barrel and tasted it to be sure—sure enough, it was full of uncut cocaine, just waiting to be shipped out.

  Not happening.

  He swung his backpack off his shoulders, pulled out some of the C4, and attached the plastic explosives to a cluster of barrels. After setting the detonators, he grabbed his pack and moved down the line, checking random containers as he went. They were all full of the powdery stuff. In what felt like no time at all, he finished securing the charges then made his way off the boat. There were still more boxes he wanted to check, but with the quantity onboard, he doubted he’d find any more. Plus, he wanted to make sure he had enough explosives for the operations at the coca fields.

  Taking the same route he’d used to reach the boat, he returned to Mari, and they made their way to the outskirts of the marina. The detonators he had used weren’t remote. Instead, he’d set timers on them, programming them to go off in sync. They needed to get further away, closer to the first field he wanted to strike. They wouldn’t know what—or who— hit them.

  Their distance wasn’t great, so they would be at the first field in no time at all. They raced full force along the road, jumping into the shelter of the trees if they heard the slightest whisper of voices or vehicles. They encountered one Jeep and stopped to wait in case any more came along. He figured it was most likely the second shift relieving the armed men at the docks.

  Five minutes later, the explosions began. Mari’s hand jerked in his, and the look of terror that flashed over her features in the pale moonlight only fuel
ed his determination to put an end to her worries.

  There was no need to worry just yet. They’d secure a place to sleep for a few hours and put the next phase of their plan into effect when they awoke. The fun was just beginning.

  Chapter 27

  Chris

  High above the ground, Chris detached the ropes that had secured Mari and him in high, thick branches the night before. The sun would crest the horizon in about an hour, and he wanted them to be on their way before it was fully light out. Mari stood one limb over with her hand on the trunk of the large and sturdy tree they’d chosen as their sleeping quarters.

  “See? It wasn’t so bad.” With a wink, he slung his pack over his shoulder and began the climb down.

  “It was terrifying.” A grin curved along her lips. He dropped to the ground and stood nearby so he could help her down. There were a lot of people combing through the woods next to the road that led to the harbor. From their vantage point, and obscured by the thick branches and leaves below them, they’d listened while remaining unseen. Mari had shivered every once in a while.

  Dammit. I want her out of here. Safe. The next step will be anything but that.

  With his hands on her hips, he turned her to face him, needing to see her expression. “There’s no going back at this point. I can get you out and on your way to the States safely, while I finish this.” He forced one of his hands to fall from her. “What do you want to do? Last chance, Mari.”

  Her fingers curled around his forearms, and a determined gleam flashed in her eyes. “This is my problem—my fight—and there’s no way I’d leave you to handle it alone. I’m with you all the way.”

  He dropped his hand from her hip. “Let’s go, then.”

  “Wait.” She tugged on his hand. “This isn’t fair. You don’t need to fix things for me. We’ve done enough damage. Let’s just leave before it’s too late.”

  The concern and truth in her words firmed his decision to stick by her side. “Not happening.”

  She huffed as she pointed diagonally to the south from the road they were on. “The closest field is that way.”

  As they set off in that direction, Chris swept the area for signs of people. The farm was close. He’d already noted all the places Mari knew, memorized where to go, and figured out the best combinations to strike. They would hit them in random order instead of destroying only one place at a time, which would make the cartel think there were more groups attacking their livelihood. It was very possible the cartel would figure out the numbers they were up against. Knowing it was a small group—two, to be exact—would give them a tremendous amount of confidence and only increase their aggression. Chris and Mari needed every advantage they could get. And soon, they’d need his team’s support.

  A small part of him felt guilty for destroying the farmers’ livelihood, and he knew Mari felt the same way. But the cartel had to be stopped.

  He’d started to remember so much more of this life—everything, in fact—and there was another reason he wanted to wipe out this particular threat. Before he had set out on the mission that led him to Mari, he’d been at Liam’s. Trev and Liam had a hand in helping Mateo’s brother’s wife, Liv, escape her husband and his family. After a shootout at Liam’s farm, which was his team’s new base of operations, things were better. They were progressing. All was relatively quiet there, but they all knew Juan Carlos would be back again.

  What Mari didn’t seem to know was that Mateo was dead. She runs from a ghost. Well, not entirely. Juan Carlos is after her, and he’s very real and very deadly.

  More and more, he found himself staring at her. She tugged on her hair until she realized what she was doing and flicked the thick braid behind her. Concern flashed across her face with a quick flare of panic every now and then. While her story behind their relationship wasn’t true, he sensed her feelings were. He’d even given her an out, and she hadn’t taken it. Part of him wanted to send her home. He could contact his team and have them swoop in, pick her up, and deliver her to safety. But then she’d be gone, and it was her fight, too. He couldn’t quite deny her that.

  It didn’t take long for them to reach the outskirts of the coca field. He drew her closer to him. Workers would be arriving shortly, but he still didn’t believe there weren’t guards on the premises unless they relied solely on the landmines, which he knew would be placed strategically around the grounds.

  Chris guided Mari to sit by the base of a tree, where he took the time to rifle through his bag. He found the small, lightweight tools and the device he was looking for. He palmed the device then slung his pack over his shoulder.

  With the tools, he set about altering the mechanics of the detonators, which were his inventions. The screws were undone quickly, and he made the necessary adjustments. A simple alteration could change them from timed to remote detonators—whatever he needed on the fly. He closed the box and put the screws back in place then motioned for Mari to help.

  “Put your hand under this.”

  “What? Why?” Her nose scrunched up.

  “It’s a metal detector. I altered the setting so that it can detect any type of metal—or at least enough that we can locate where the mines are and not step on them.”

  “Oh.” She held her hand out, and he floated the box over her ring, far enough away to simulate how deep the mines could be buried.

  A low hum erupted from the equipment as he passed it over her band. He pressed his lips together at the sight of it. Who gave her the ring? “Thanks. It works.” Grasping her hand, he toyed with her small piece of jewelry. “Did I pick this out for you?”

  Her face lost some of its color, and she shook her head. “It’s my aunt’s,” she whispered. “I—um, she gave it to me so we could use it. My uncle died some time ago, and she wanted me to find the same happiness she had with him.”

  “And I was okay with that?”

  “Yes. You understood the sentiment behind the ring.”

  He dropped her hand, still feeling the need to question her and wondering how long it would be until she told him—if she would. He would rather she told him than the other way around. No matter what, they’d eventually have that discussion, but Mari could be unpredictable, letting her emotions rule her responses. “Even though I’d have wanted to buy you something bigger?”

  Her expression turned wistful. “That’s sweet, Chris. But the history behind the ring makes it mean more to me than something brand new.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’ve shown me what a relationship should be, and that matters more to me than anything.”

  With his hand on her hip, he tugged her closer. “How is that, exactly? We’ve been in a jungle, and you said I deserted you so that you had to flee the country… or at least try to.”

  She shook her head. “None of that matters. You’ve been here for me from the moment you opened your eyes in our tree canopy. You’ve cared for me, kept me safe, and shown me love.”

  He pulled her in close and enfolded her in his arms. After a few minutes, he grasped her shoulders and shifted her back a little. “We have to get a move on. The workers will be here soon, and I want to set the charges.” He bent to pick up the box once more then slid a tiny panel open to reveal a thin, long collapsible piece of metal, which he extended to drop the box closer to his feet. The scanner would be their very best friend as they searched for exactly where the mines were.

  “Climb up this tree and wait for me.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared. “No. I already told you I’m a part of this. That includes whatever crazy idea you’ve got going.”

  Fighting laughter, which he knew she’d take offense to, he grinned. “You want to go through the fields with me to figure out where they’ve buried mines?”

  “Yes.” She extended her hand, palm up. “I’ll use that, and you can do whatever it is you’re planning on doing.”

  “Do a wide and slow sweep so we can walk side by side, like thi
s.” He took the device from her and showed her how to do it before giving it back and linking their hands together so they didn’t stray apart. His right hand was free, and he gripped his gun in it, ready for any surprise they might encounter.

  They started through the field, staying between the planted lines, and he hoped their journey would be a safe one. Leafy plants surrounded them in all directions, rising up along the hills. It was a drug addict’s paradise. For Chris and Mari, the place was the source of their enemy’s income, the base. He planned to destroy it and handicap the cartel’s revenue.

  Many farms were hidden, with the coca plants growing between others for camouflage. The labs were also protected by trees, with the mixing and processing done under a tarp to hide from the prying eyes of the military, should they fly overhead and find them, which would lead them to burn the crop.

  For the time being, Chris and Mari would leave the fields alone. The manufacturing part at the heart of the farm was where he planned to strike first. It wouldn’t stop them. But it would sure slow them down and piss them off. Keeping the cartel off balance would work in their favor.

  “We need to get to the lean-to.” It was where the coca leaves were processed into paste.

  Mari’s brows furrowed. “The workers will be here soon.”

  “We should have enough time. If they get here while we’re making our way back, we should be able to crawl out between the crops. Sort of.” They weren’t that high or dense.

  Scanning the ground in front of them before they stepped was a slow process. When they arrived at the lean-to, their time was severely limited. One section of the area was a square, marked off by logs that kept the leaves in. When the loose leaves were within the square, the workers would stomp them down until they turned brown. When the desired color was achieved, the plant was mixed in a vat of gasoline and sulfuric acid then left to process for several hours. The next step would be to strain it into a paste, or “pasta,” before processing it further into a powdery substance.