Black Ops Chronicles: Dead Run (15 page)

The heavyset Mexican behind the desk looked up from his paperwork and rumbled in Spanish. Tony responded. As they talked, Nick sensed Tony wasn’t happy about something. The cop finally shrugged and sketched a map on a sheet of paper. Tony pocketed the map and turned to Nick.

“He’s found them. Let’s go.”

“What’s going on?” Nick demanded as soon as the door closed behind them. “What’s happened to Josh and Glen?”

“That cop said the local padre came to him just after the parade and told him there were two Americans tied up in a cave not far from here.” Tony’s voice had hardened to ice. “He didn’t have a description of the men, but the odds of it being two other idiots, and not Josh and Glen, are slim to none. So, either Tess ambushed them or someone else did. But we won’t know until we track them down and ask.”

“Could the ‘someone else’ have been the CIA guys who’re down here looking for Tess?”

“Maybe. But they’d need a reason, and I can’t think of one.” Tony started the Jeep, flipped on the headlights, and sped off down the dark street. “We’ll have to hurry. The cop was only waiting for some villagers to show up before heading out. I told him we’d handle it alone, but he wouldn’t go for it,” he said as he whipped around a corner and down a side street. “He finally agreed we could go ahead, and they’d follow in about fifteen minutes.”

“
Fifteen
minutes
? What the hell can we do in fifteen minutes?”

“We can give them a cover story so they know what to say when that cop gets there.” Tony gunned the motor and ran through a stop sign. “If Tess
is
the one who captured them, we don’t want the local police looking for her. We can’t be sure whose side they’d take.” He came to the main highway, headed south, and slowed down. “Help me look for the trail. The cop said it wasn’t more than half a mile after we hit the highway.”

Nick scanned what he could see of the road in the headlights. “What do we want our guys to say?”

“We’ll tell them to say they got mugged, but they didn’t see their attackers. That’s not real common down here, but it’s not unheard of either.”

“Then what, do we send Glen and Josh with Joe in the morning?”

“Not if it was Tess. She’d recognize them. She hasn’t seen Joe, so he’ll have a chance to grab her. We’ll take Glen with us to the rendezvous. Joe can meet us there when he has Tess. But
Josh’ll
stay with the boat. Just in case Komakov’s here.”

Nick’s mouth went dry. “You think Levi’s here?”

“Not really, but why take chances?” Tony slowed to a crawl, glancing between the road, the countryside, and the map. “This looks like the place.”

Parking the Jeep on the shoulder of the highway, he grabbed a gun and a flashlight from the back and headed up the narrow trail.

Not wanting to stray far from Tony’s protection, Nick took a gun and flashlight for himself and scrambled after him as fast as his pride would permit.

***

8:05 p.m., La Paz, Baja California Sur:

“We can’t stay here, you know,” Tess said when the chicken farmer dropped them off near a small, rundown motel. She shivered and rubbed her arms. The evening had turned very cool. “I don’t think that old man will tell anyone he drove us here, but I don’t want to risk it.”

“You’re cold.” Max wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “And you’re right. He’s a great old guy, but I don’t want to chance it, either. Let’s get a cab and find another motel.”

Taking her hand, he pulled her through the jubilant crowd.

Carnival.

People filled the sidewalks. Music, laughter, conversation, and aromas filled the air. The scents bursting from a taco stand made Tess’s stomach growl with hunger. She loved Mexican festivals—the laughter, costumes, and confetti. Everyone dancing in the street.

After several blocks, Max found an empty taxi. The driver took them to a nondescript motel across town. “Su Casa Motel” wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and tidy—twelve rooms arranged in a square around a small courtyard.

She handed him some cash. “Get a couple of rooms.”

“One room,” he corrected as he steered her into the bushes beside a dumpster. “And you stay here. I don’t want anyone to see you. If Nick tries to find you by checking with motel clerks, he’ll be asking about a woman alone, or possibly a man and woman together. But he won’t have any reason to ask about one man by himself.”

Uneasy with the plan, Tess watched him disappear around the corner. His logic made sense, but it would be far too easy to succumb to his charms if they shared a room. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to convince herself she could handle it—as long as she didn’t think about his kisses. By the time he returned with the key, she’d almost succeeded.

He led her to number ten. “Here we go. Home, sweet home.”

Opening the door revealed two twin beds, a small table, one chair, and one window covered with beige curtains that didn’t quite meet in the middle. The tiny bathroom didn’t have a bathtub, but it had a toilet, a sink, and a shower.

“This’ll work,” she told him. “Why don’t I clean up, while you go and see if you can find some clothes that aren’t quite so ragged? We passed that open store just down the street.” She handed him more money. “Then after you shower and change, we’ll get something to eat.”

He stared at the money then at her, doubt clouding his eyes. “It’s bad enough having you pay for the room and the food, but I don’t like taking your money for clothes. I don’t know when, or even if, I can pay you back.”

Knowing he wouldn’t appreciate sympathy, she stuck with logic. “It doesn’t matter whose money we use. The bottom line here is to get out of this mess with our lives. Your clothes are too ragged, and they draw attention.”

Though it took some effort, she managed to keep her voice light. “Besides, I’m picking up more cash from the marina here tomorrow. So I’m good. Okay?”

“No, it’s not okay, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” He set the duffel by the table and headed for the door. “Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

“I’ll be fine.”

When the door closed behind him, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Christ, the poor man didn’t even know who he was and he was worried about how to pay her back a few measly bucks. What the hell was she going to do with him?

“Resist him,” she muttered. “Sure. No problem.”

Pulling out her toiletries, clean underwear, and clothes, she headed for the shower. The hot water eased her tension. Calmed her mind. She let her thoughts drift—and they landed squarely on Max.

She couldn’t deny she was attracted to him, but that didn’t mean she had to act on it. I’ve just got to make him stop kissing me. He was probably married anyway. Even if he couldn’t remember his wife. As gorgeous as he was, he had to be taken.

She’d tell him they needed to keep their relationship platonic. Yeah, that’s what she’d do. Just explain that until he knew his situation, an affair wasn’t possible. Besides, romance was a bad bet for her. Love didn’t last in her life. Never had.

Even as a child, people had turned away from her. Abandoned by her mother when she was nine, just six months after her father died, she’d spent her childhood bouncing from one foster home to another. Except for her father, who’d died and left her alone anyway, no one had ever wanted her.

She turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. “It’s just the way my life works,” she grumbled. “I expect people to betray me because they always have.”

True, Max hadn’t. Yet. But give him time, and he probably would. The thought made her want to curl up in the fetal position and cry.

Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban, she walked out of the bathroom. Max had returned and was pulling gauze out of a package.

“Come and sit down,” he said. “I want to bandage your arm.”

“That was a quick shopping trip.”

“The shops were small, and there wasn’t much selection.”

He put a new dressing on her arm then picked up a bag off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

With her spirits plummeting, she dried her hair and rehearsed what she needed to say. She had valid reasons not to get involved, damn it. So why
should accepting that
hurt so much?

When he came out of the bathroom, she stared at him. He wore a new pair of jeans and a light blue, short-sleeved shirt. His stubble was gone, the scar on his chin more defined. His eyes hinted of wild nights and dangerous passion. God, why did he have to be so tempting? He flashed her a quick, rakish grin, and everything she’d planned to tell him flew right out of her head.

She tore her eyes away from him and reached for her disguise. “Give me just a minute to throw this on.”

He crossed to her and took it out of her hands. “You won’t need this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve got my gun. We won’t go far, and we won’t stay out long. Even if Nick knows we’re in La Paz, he doesn’t know exactly where we are. And we won’t be easy to find among the two-hundred-thousand-plus other people in this city, most of
whom
are out on the streets tonight.”

His hand grasped the back of her neck and tugged her toward him. “I want to look at you, Tess. Your face, your hair. You.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Nick’s probably still looking for you in the village, so I don’t think we’re in any danger tonight. And we both need to relax a little.” A gentle finger stroked her cheek. “Ready?”

“Guess so.”

Stomping down hard on the heat that raced through her veins, she threw on a sweatshirt, trying to remember why their relationship had to stay platonic. She had a good reason. Didn’t she?

CHAPTER 10

Max knew Tess wanted him. And had feelings for him. But she was fighting herself on both fronts because her moral code said she hadn’t known him long enough.

He shook his head. What the hell difference did it make how many days it had been since they met? He knew she was stubborn, brave, warm, generous, and sweet. Jesus, she was sweet. He’d recognize her scent, her voice, and her eyes in a crowd of thousands. What more did he need to know?

Though he tried to see it from her point of view, he couldn’t quite get there. He respected her reasons, however, and in any other circumstances, he’d back off. Probably back off, he corrected. But with assassins after them, this might be all the time they had together. Besides, he’d gone way beyond the point where he could control his need to make love to her.

He also knew she needed him as much as he needed her. Yet, she refused to acknowledge her feelings for him, and that hurt.

And, damn it, he
cared
about her. She was special. Sure, he wanted her. He was a man, after all. But that didn’t change the fact that she’d gotten to him—wormed her way into his heart, while keeping hers locked up tight. So what was he supposed to do with all this emotion, now that he—

He blinked, uncomfortable with the direction his thoughts were heading. Casting around for something to distract himself with, he glanced at Tess. She walked beside him, silent and alert. The sweatshirt she’d donned against the chill of the evening was almost the same gray as her eyes—eyes that constantly scanned the crowd. Just like his.

“Tell me something,” he said. “You seem very skilled at surviving on the run. You get training of some kind?”

“Not exactly. After I escaped the FBI safe house, I went to a friend’s place. He’s an attorney. I told him I planned to run. He wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed to sell my business for me and send me the funds when I needed them. He’s a member of a yacht club and told me I could get mail through a marina most anywhere in the world. So we set up codes for marinas and boat names.

“Shit,” she muttered as she jumped out of the path of a clown on stilts, weaving around like a drunk. “Idiot’s going to break his neck. Anyway, I took off the next day. First big town I came to after I left Utah, I headed for a public library. I used their computers to get on the internet and read everything I could find on how to disappear and not be found.”

She shrugged. “Then I learned what I could about Special Forces tactics—moving silently, how to tell if someone was following me. That kind of thing. After that it was just living it.”

“I’ll be damned. That’s pretty smart. Is that when you researched the Mormon mafia?”

She nodded but seemed to shrink into herself, making him sorry he’d brought it up.

Slipping an arm around her, he drew her close. When she stiffened, he sighed. “Jesus, angel, I’m not going to jump you.” He moved his hands to her neck and rubbed her tensed muscles. “Relax. You’re way too uptight.”

“I’m not used to relaxing. At least not since last May.” Coming to a stop, she moaned as he massaged the knots in her shoulders. “It’s not that I don’t like festivals. I do,” she said, ducking her head as another clown came by, this one tossing confetti at people’s faces. “But after seeing Nick in the village, I feel the need to hide.” She wiped the bits of paper off her cheeks. “Out here, I feel totally exposed. Like I’m running buck naked through a park.”

“Now, that sounds like a great idea. Where can we find a park around here?”

He felt some of her tension ease as she snorted. “Don’t even think it.”

“Hey, a man’s got a right to dream.”

His stomach rumbled, demanding to be fed. He looked around then led her down the street to where a band, consisting of a guitarist, a drummer, and a female singer with maracas, had set up on the sidewalk. Music—happy and bursting with rhythm—blared from amplifiers hung on a lamppost.

From the food stands that lined the other side of the street they bought soft drinks, quesadillas, and small rolled tacos smothered in guacamole. Then they sat on the curb to eat. When she reached for a taco, he captured her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed her palm.

Alarm flared in her eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Absolutely. Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “That’s not the point. You can’t.”

“You mean I’m not allowed to be romantic?”

“No.” She pulled her hand free and scooped up a taco. “Max, has it occurred to you that you could be married?”

“Has it occurred to you that we could both be dead tomorrow?”

“That’s not an answer. Or
an
excuse.”

“Can it be a reason?”

“I don’t know. That may depend on your answer.”

“Jesus. I thought I was a hard ass.” He watched her lick guacamole off her fingers and bit back a groan. “Yes, it’s crossed my mind. But I don’t feel married.”

He paused as the image of a beautiful woman flashed across his mind. The feeling it triggered wasn’t love, however, but disdain. “In fact, I get the sense I’ve deliberately avoided that sort of commitment. That I’m too uptight and controlled.” A sigh slipped out. “As eager as I am to get my memory back, I’m not sure I want to be that person again.” Wiping off his hands, he framed her face with them and touched his lips to hers. “Especially when I kiss you.”

“Max—”

“Hush.”

Whatever she was about to say, he didn’t want to hear it. Stymied, he grabbed a taco for himself as a blaring horn announced the start of the parade.

“Eat,” he ordered, passing her a quesadilla. “Nick would have to have super powers to find us in this mob. So relax and watch the parade.”

Vehicular traffic had been blocked off. People danced along the edge of the street as the parade passed by—as often as not, mixing right in with the marchers. Performers in bright costumes wove through the crowd. Max saw Tess’s eyes light up as she watched a juggler dressed like a giant grasshopper. Christ, the woman had gorgeous eyes.

When they’d finished eating, he gathered up the food containers then pulled her to her feet. “I need a drink,” he said, tossing their litter in a trashcan. “I don’t suppose there’s a bar around here, is there?”

“I’m sure we could find one. But we could also buy a bottle from that stand down there by the payphone and drink it while we watch the parade.”

“That works for me.”

She stopped in front of the small wooden cart filled with liquor bottles. “What’s your preferred poison?”

“Tequila. Since we’re in Mexico.”

She bought a half pint of Jose Cuervo. It came with a tiny saltshaker and a plastic cup filled with quartered limes. Using his tongue, Max dampened some skin on his hand, sprinkled the salt on the wet spot, licked it off, and took a drink from the bottle. When he grabbed for a piece of lime, it slipped out of his fingers and landed on the sidewalk.

“This is hard to do standing up.”

Tess handed him another piece. “If your hand-eye coordination deteriorates with only one drink of tequila, maybe you shouldn’t have any more.”

“Fine, smartass, you try it.”

She ignored the salt and lime and just drank the booze. He got a kick out of the way she closed her eyes and shuddered after each swig. They shared the bottle, passing it back and forth between them. By the time it was empty, she had her hand over her eyes and was none too steady on her feet.

“You okay, angel?”

“That stuff went straight to my head.”

“Tequila can do that.”

She leaned against him. “Is the world really spinning, or is that me?”

“Good thing we didn’t buy a quart,” he said dryly, supporting her with an arm around her waist.

Tossing the empty bottle in the trash, he guided her into the street. Then he took her in his arms and moved to the rhythm of the music.

“Are you sure we’re doing this right?” she asked with a giggle as they staggered a bit.

“It’s working for me,” he told her, tightening his embrace and nuzzling her hair.

Her giggle expanded into laughter when he bent her backward in an exaggerated dip. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh. He loved the sound.

Amusement sparkled in her eyes, colored her cheeks. His heart stumbled. He couldn’t have resisted if he’d tried. Cupping the back of her head as he raised her up, he covered her lips with his and drank her in. She wound her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his, and returned the kiss.

God, he loved kissing her. Soft, warm, and more intoxicating than tequila, she tasted like ice cream on a moonlit island in the South Pacific. Fresh, exotic, and sweet.

They’d danced for the best part of an hour when the band took a break. After the last song ended, Max stood and held her, burying his face in her hair, inhaling her scent—wildflowers and honey. What difference did his past make as long as Tess was here now?

“The music’s stopped, Max,” she whispered. Something landed in his hair. “And people are throwing confetti at us.”

He opened his eyes and saw a layer of tiny,
pink
and white squares of paper on her head. “So they are.” Ruffling her hair, he watched the confetti fall to the pavement. “Feel better, or is the world still spinning?”

She laughed again. “Much better. The spinning was just a temporary setback. Now, I barely even have a buzz.”

“Good. Let’s go back to the motel.”

***

Panic warred with excitement in Tess’s mind as Max took her hand and pulled her down the sidewalk. When they reached their room, he dragged her inside, whipped her around, and pinned her back against the door. His hands dove into her hair, and his mouth, rough and greedy, took hers.

It was like being swallowed whole. It thrilled her. And frightened her. She fought for control. “Max,” she breathed, when his lips moved to her throat. “We can’t.”

“The hell we can’t.”

He ravished her neck. She moaned and shifted her head to give him greater access.

“You want me as much as I want you, angel. So don’t tell me we can’t,” he said, bringing his mouth back to hers.

As his tongue plunged inside, her body ignored her mind’s feeble attempts at resistance. Eager to take and be taken, her physical needs simply seized control.

“In another minute, we won’t have any choice.” His breath ragged, his body holding hers captive against the door, he raised his head and met her eyes. “If you want me to stop, Tess, tell me fast. And make damn sure it’s the truth.”

Oh God, no. Don’t you dare stop now
. The words screamed in her head. Probably showed in her eyes. She wanted him. Wanted this. What was the point of denying it? If tonight was all she had left, at least she’d have this before she died. Giving a low purr in her throat, she wrapped herself around him, molding her body to his, demanding more.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the nearest bed. But before he’d done much more than nuzzle a sigh out of her, someone banged on the door.

***

9:48 p.m., the penthouse apartment of Nick McKenzie, Salt Lake City, Utah
:

Levi abhorred violence. Especially the kind that resulted in bloodshed. Trouble was, most hoodlums didn’t understand anything else. But as much as he hated it, he was damn good at it when he had to be. And to save Tess, he’d do a whole lot more than spill a little blood.

In the past two days, he’d learned about the Vargas murders, the contract on Tess, and the events at the FBI safe house. He knew she was in southern Baja and that Nick and Tony had flown to La Paz on Wednesday afternoon. And he’d discovered it all without shedding a corpuscle.

Until now.

But because he still didn’t know what Nick and Tony were up to, the five men attending the “meeting” in the living room of Nick’s penthouse were about to donate some red stuff the hard way.

Gaining access to the apartment had been a breeze. He’d broken through the fancy locks and security systems without a flicker. After all, he’d been trained by the best.

He’d set up the meeting so the men arrived in fifteen-minute intervals, thinking they’d been summoned by Tony. As each man came through the door, Levi met him with a Colt .45, relieved him of his weapons and encrypted cell phone, tied his hands behind his back, and shoved him into a chair. The only response the five men got to their outraged questions—and vicious threats—was a smile.

When everyone was assembled, Levi grabbed a chair for himself and positioned it so he faced the group. He studied them—five hardened criminals with animal cunning and street smarts enough to make them less-than-easy prey. Tough, brave, and loyal to Nick and Tony, none of them would cooperate unless forced. Levi sighed. He detested this next part, even though he had a doctor waiting across the street in the coffee shop.

“Okay boys, here’s the deal. You’ve got a choice. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. But either way we do it, you
will
tell me what I want to know.”