Dangerous Desires (13 page)

“But you just said you didn’t think it was one of us?” Tyler shook her head, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

“For the moment, no. I don’t. But there are people at Langley who think it’s possible.”

“I wasn’t aware anyone else knew about our incidents.” Nash studied his boss’s face, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“There were questions about the last few missions. Mistakes made. I had to give them an explanation.”

“And so now they’re pointing fingers. You’d think after what happened with Annie they’d be more cautious about that sort of thing.” Homeland Security had been the leading voice in suggesting that Annie was a traitor, but the CIA hadn’t been far behind. Hell, for a little while even he’d believed the worst. In the end, however, they’d all been proven wrong. And Nash, at least, had learned a lesson.

“Look, they’re just trying to make sense of what happened. And in light of Drake’s disappearance—along with Madeline’s…” he trailed off.

“The heat’s on.” Nash blew out a breath.

“The suits at Langley are definitely on high alert. What should have been a simple operation has turned into a nightmare scenario. So they’re circling the wagons. And we’ve got to be careful not to get caught in the fallout. This thing with Madeline is bigger than they’re letting on. There’s something more here than them just wanting to question the mistress of Jorge di Silva.”

“So what the hell is it they want with her?” Nash asked.

“I don’t know. And it’s going to take a little digging to find out. In the meantime, we’ve got to find Drake and keep him out of sight until we can figure out what’s what. And we have to do it on the QT.”

“None of this makes any sense at all to me,” Tyler said. “Drake aside. We’ve got three definite instances of
sabotage and a couple more questionable incidents. And, at least in the three confirmed cases, access to the equipment in question was limited to members of the team.”

“And certain ancillary staff,” Avery added. “Everything was shipped. Through secure channels of course, but there were certainly people outside the team that handled the items involved.”

“True. But at least in my case,” Tyler said, “I checked the equipment before we left.”

“In detail?” Avery queried.

“Absolutely. And everything was fine.”

“And in Colombia?”

“I only did a cursory examination, but if something was wrong I would have seen it.”

“Sometimes we see what we expect to see.” Nash shrugged.

“And you didn’t check the equipment again?” Avery asked.

She shook her head. “It never occurred to me that I’d need to.”

“Which is no doubt what someone was counting on. The truth is that there were opportunities for someone with the proper motivation to access and manipulate our equipment.”

“All of them CIA or military personnel.” Nash shook his head. “And all of them with proper clearance.”

“People can be bought,” Tyler said. “And Avery’s right, there are always ancillary personnel involved in a mission.”

“But there’s not much crossover. At least when we’re in the field,” Nash said, turning the idea over in his mind. “What about the earlier incidents?”

“Same situation, really. There are always people who
handle our munitions, whether we’re in our country or on foreign soil.” Tyler shrugged.

“So how do we narrow it down?”

“When I get back to New York, I’ll start seeing what I can dig up,” Avery said. “And maybe Tyler can help once she’s back on her feet. We can cross-check personnel lists and see if anything pops. In addition, I want to see what I can find out about Madeline Reynard. There’s got to be some connection to the CIA that supersedes her relationship with di Silva.”

“And while you guys are playing supersleuth, what am I doing?” Nash asked.

“When the timing is right, I want you to go to Puerto Remo. That’s where Drake will surface if he makes it through.”

“With Madeline, if he found her,” Tyler said, her worried gaze encompassing the two of them. “And I’d lay odds that he has.”

“Look, at this point all of this is just conjecture,” Avery sighed. “I mean, as far as I know, no one outside the immediate team is even aware that he’ll be heading to the coast. But if the unit has truly been compromised it’s possible that the information’s been leaked.”

“Meaning di Silva could know.”

“We may have bigger problems than di Silva,” Avery said. “Look, if I’m right and there’s something big connected with the retrieval of Madeline Reynard, then someone out there may believe that the easy solution is to take her out. And if whoever’s involved is connected to Langley, then they may very well be looking for a scapegoat to cover their actions.”

“Drake.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, if someone is gunning for Drake and/or Madeline, isn’t Nash going to need someone to back him up?” Tyler protested, shooting Nash an apologetic look. “I mean, not that you’re not capable, but we have no idea what you could be walking into.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Nash smiled at her. “But I can handle it. Besides, who could go? Avery already said that we need to keep this limited to the three of us. You’re in no shape to go anywhere, and Avery’s disappearance at this point would certainly bring up questions.”

“Well, so will yours,” Tyler said, a stubborn note in her voice. “You can’t go out there on your own. Come on, Avery, you know I’m right.”

“He won’t be going anywhere on his own,” Avery said. “And he won’t be missed. It’s all been arranged.”

“But I don’t…” Nash began.

“You’ve been complaining about not having time for a honeymoon,” Avery said, with a slow smile. “And the tropics are a perfect place for young couples in love.”

“Annie,” Nash said, his heart lifting at the sound of his wife’s name.

“Yes.” Avery nodded. “I know she hasn’t wanted to get back into the game. But she understands the importance of our finding Drake.”

“I’m not surprised she agreed to help,” Nash said, feeling a surge of pride. “You’ll watch out for Adam?” As much as he needed to help his friend, he also needed to make certain his son was protected.

“No worries,” Avery said. “We’ll all keep an eye out.”

“Then it’s perfect,” Nash said, with a grin. “I mean, hell, what good is a honeymoon without a little espionage?”

*   *   *

Café Amarillo, Bogotá, Colombia

“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Hector Ortiz said as he leaned back to allow the waiter to refill his coffee cup. “I apologize for getting you involved in so difficult a situation. I thought I had it handled.” He drew in a breath, waiting for the man to answer.

Michael Brecht was a major player in the arms industry. The owner of Mossler-Brecht, one of Germany’s largest producers of munitions, he held the respect of people on both sides of the law. It was Brecht who had first approached Ortiz about the prospect of his taking control of di Silva’s enterprises and expanding the old man’s business into the illegal arms trade. And it was Brecht who had introduced him to prominent men within the market.

Which meant the older man had as much to lose as Ortiz if Madeline Reynard was allowed to talk.

“Clearly you hadn’t counted on CIA involvement,” Brecht said, eyes narrowed as he watched Ortiz from across the table.

“And you’re sure they’re the ones who freed Madeline?” He frowned, tearing the corner off a packet of sugar.

“Positive,” the other man answered. “A black ops group called A-Tac. I assume you’re familiar with them?”

“I’ve heard of them. Never come up against them, though.” He shook his head, thinking that it hadn’t been out of the realm of possibility, but thankfully their direct involvement wasn’t a threat—except as it related to Madeline.

“As you know, I’ve developed an extensive network
of contacts,” Brecht continued. “On both sides of the law. And one recent acquisition is someone with intimate knowledge of A-Tac and their movements.”

“So you know where they are now?” The damned operatives had managed to blow up the munitions stash and escape by helicopter. And despite Ortiz’s best efforts, he’d been unable to obtain information on their whereabouts.

“Yes,” Brecht said, his gaze still speculative. “Most of the team is currently recovering at a military hospital in Ecuador. It seems despite their ultimate failure, your men managed to do some damage.”

“And Madeline?” Ortiz asked. “Is she there as well?”

“No,” the older man said. “She was left behind. And is most likely making her way to the coast with a man called Drake Flynn.”

“Did you say Flynn?” Ortiz asked, the words out before he could stop them, his surprise momentarily getting the better of him.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation.” It was a partial truth. He hadn’t ever met the man, but he’d certainly heard all about him—ad nauseam. “I’m afraid he’ll be a formidable opponent. Although his route is probably predictable. I’m guessing he’ll head for one of the smaller coastal villages.”

“I’m one step ahead of you on that,” Brecht said, taking a slow sip of his tea. “According to my sources, the most likely place for them to surface is Puerto Remo. It’s at the mouth of Rio Negro, which isn’t far from your weapons cache. So all they’d have to do is make it downriver.”

“Makes sense.” Ortiz nodded. “I’ll get my men on it immediately.”

“No need for that. I’ve already hired experts. Men I’ve worked with before. Of course I did it in di Silva’s name. You realize that if we can’t stop this, then di Silva is going to have to take the fall.”

“And me?” Ortiz asked hesitantly, afraid that Brecht was going to cast him out for his mistakes.

“You’re too valuable to dispose of. Although, make no mistake, should it become necessary, I’ve no problem at all letting you take the fall as well. I knew it was a risk when I took you on. But I’ve always believed your talents exceed your liabilities.”

“And these men you’ve hired,” Ortiz asked, “they’ll find Flynn and the girl?”

“I learned long ago that there’s no such thing as a certainty. There are always variables that one can’t possibly predict. But yes, I’m confident that my men will handle the situation. They’re both single-minded and rather competitive. And to take advantage of that, I’ve made it a competition. First man to find and eliminate the two of them—wins.”

“And the fallout from the destruction at the ruins? How do you want me to handle that? A hell of a lot of the weapons had been sold and were prepped for shipping. I’ve already had calls.”

“Again, worst case, the blame will have to be shifted to di Silva. But in the meantime, you have the secondary stash, and whatever you can’t make good on, I can probably procure replacements.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Ortiz asked, shaking his head as he considered the enormity of Brecht’s involvement. “Basically, I totally fucked up.”

“Yes, you did. But as I explained to you when I first
recruited you, we’re in the process of building a consortium, a group of like-minded individuals who want to make certain that the world’s confrontations continue to escalate.”

“So that you can make money.”

“It’s the entrepreneurial way.” Brecht shrugged. “Although there are certain political gains as well. Anyway, I’ve worked hard to integrate you into my network, so it’s in my best interest to make certain that the girl isn’t allowed to talk. Particularly to the Americans. That doesn’t change the fact, however, that you shouldn’t have put yourself in this position in the first place.”

“But she’s done excellent work. Without her, we’d never have had access to the information we needed. And I thought holding her sister hostage would keep Madeline in line.”

“Except that the sister died.”

“Yes. But it was strictly a fluke that Madeline found out.”

“You should have killed her then,” Brecht said, returning his cup to the saucer, his gaze inscrutable. “You’re not going soft on me, are you?”

“No,” Ortiz denied. “Just overconfident. I really did believe I had it handled. And she was truly an asset when I had her under control.”

Brecht paused for a moment, still studying Ortiz. “There isn’t anything else, is there? Something she knows that’s more dangerous than the workings of your day-to-day operations?”

“Of course not,” Ortiz said, his stomach knotting as he considered the real truth. If Madeline Reynard was allowed to reach Langley, there was a hell of a lot more
at stake than his illegal activities on behalf of di Silva and Brecht.

“You’re certain?” Brecht queried.

“Yes. Absolutely.” Ortiz nodded. “But there’s no question it will be better for all of us when Madeline Reynard is dead.”

T
he water was cold, and deeper than Madeline remembered, the current tugging her along with anxious fingers, the weight of her clothes sucking her downward. She had no idea how far she’d come. It could have been inches or feet; there was no way to know for sure.

The only thing for certain was that the river wasn’t going to let her go. The farther they traveled the more it held on to her, as if she were some kind of water sprite infrangibly bound to the rushing river. She struggled upward to break the surface for much-needed air, but the water refused to let her go, pulling her deeper instead, the stream agitated now, pebbles and stones abrading her skin.

She struggled against the current, her lungs contracting as she fought against the urge to breathe. The water spun her around as the current picked up speed, and she lost all sense of direction, up and down ceasing to have meaning. Panic threatened as the desperate need for air overcame everything else.

Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, amplified by the water around her. And finally, she gave in to the urge, opening her mouth even as the river pulled her deeper. Water flooded her lungs as a preternatural calm descended, her mind accepting the inevitable.

This was what it felt like to drown.

It was almost laughable—after everything she’d survived, for it to end like this.

She closed her eyes, but the river wasn’t through with her yet, pushing her back to the surface. Coughing and sputtering, she felt a hand close around her arm.