Cold Day in Hell (11 page)

Callie gasped. Her face went ashen, her eyes, distressed. She turned her hand under his and gripped it tightly. “It isn’t worth risking your life. I don’t mind about the videos.”

“I do.” Risto squeezed her cold hand.

“Don’t risk yourself … whatever the bastard has recorded can’t hurt me. I’m not going to be in the public eye any longer. I’ll either be employed in the basement at NSA or possibly at Sanctuary with SSI. It’s hard to embarrass a person who doesn’t care what the public thinks about her any longer.”

He cared. He cared a hell of a lot more than he should.

“You’ve already been hurt. I saw the expression on your face when I told you about the cameras. I wanted to kill Cruz right then and there.” What was on those tapes? Had Callie been attacked by Cruz in her room and not in public as she had told him? Had she had some other man in her room since her arrival?

He had to know. Bottom line, he didn’t want any risqué tapes of Callie out there.

“Risto?” Callie stared at him, her eyes pleading. “Please tell me you aren’t going.”

“I’m going.” Callie stiffened and opened her mouth, probably to argue even further.

He wasn’t having it. He pulled her into his arms and nudged her head to his chest. “Shh.

I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” He stroked her hair and looked up at Tom, who nodded. At least a fellow marine agreed with him.

“Callie can count on me and, I suspect, Conn?” Tom asked. Risto nodded. “We’ll make sure she gets to safety if something happens to you.” Callie sniffed then glared at Tom. “I need
him
. Alive. Period.”

“Understood, darlin’,” Tom said. “But once a marine sets his mind on something, he doesn’t back down.”

“Hell, Callie, Cruz will never know I’m there.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Just fucking trust me. Now, call Evan, baby. Set up the meet.”

“God, I hate this.” She rubbed her forehead on his chest. He soothed the back of her neck. “If I’d checked Cruz out when he first bothered me in Chicago, I’d never have taken the job here—and none of this would be happening.”

“No. You can’t think that way.” Risto practically growled the words. “Cruz would’ve found another way. A way which could have put you in a worse position. By luring you here and revealing himself, he played his hand too soon—and allowed you to get help. A dumb-ass move on his part. We’re smart—you and me.” He tipped up her chin and looked her firmly in the eye. “We’ll beat him and on his own turf. Just think how humiliating it will be. He’ll lose even more face. Who knows? Maybe one of his rivals will use our distraction to wrest power from him?” That was a very great possibility and one he, Trey, Ren and Keely had kicked around when planning the mission.

“Fine. Go to the hotel. Send the bastard a message. I hope he chokes on it.” She glared, silver sparks glistening in her eyes. “And, dammit, come back to me or I’ll get really pissed.”

Risto threw back his head and laughed, hugging her to him. “Count on it. Hoo-rah.”

“Hoo-rah.” Callie and Tom echoed simultaneously.

Chapter Six

Callie paced the small, but luxurious, suite she and Risto had been shown to several hours earlier. The rooms were located in a private residence which was a quasi-bed-and-breakfast operated by SSI for private covert operatives. The mansion was situated in a quiet neighborhood adjacent to the old city. The place was definitely not open to the public. The grounds had safety and security measures to rival some embassies she’d visited. From the outside it looked like every other palatial residence on the quiet, tree-lined boulevard. The manager for SSI and an operative himself was Conn Redmond.

She and Risto were currently the only guests. Their host had supplied them with gear for a potential trip into the rain forest, found her a ladies model Ruger, and was securing a new all-terrain vehicle for their trip, just in case shit happened and they needed to go off-road. He’d also provided a secure computer connection with video-conferencing capability and she’d spoken with her brothers and Colonel Walsh. Risto had held her as she cried tears of relief to see her brothers safe in the Colonel’s care.

After ordering her to stay put, Risto had taken off on foot for his meeting with Evan and Chad and then his mission at her former hotel. That had been almost three hours ago.

Her gut told her something was wrong.

A knock on the door startled her. Had Risto forgotten his key? That didn’t make sense, he could’ve gotten another one from Conn or one of the guards on duty. She walked over and peered through the peep hole. It was their host. She opened the door.

“What’s wrong?”

Conn’s facial expression was blank as he took her hand and pulled her to the small sitting area in front of the fire he’d built for her earlier. Releasing her hand, he sat and patted the cushions next to him. “Sit, Callie.”

Dread settled over her like a lead blanket. She sank onto the sofa. “Tell me. Is it Risto?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything from him yet.” She frowned. If not Risto then… “Is it Evan and the others?” Sickness pooled in her stomach. She looked at her watch—it was ten o’clock. The escort should’ve already picked them up for the ride to the Barranquilla airport.

Again he shook his head. “I got confirmation that your friends are on their way. So far, no one has attempted to stop them.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Conn, a tough-looking blond, leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Cruz has his men tearing the city apart to find you. This makes your situation even more dangerous since there are people in this town who’d sell out their mothers to get on Cruz’s good side.”

“But we expected that … it makes a good diversion for Evan, Chad and the others.” He let out a rough breath and rubbed a hand over his face. “It’s worse than we expected. Cruz has offered a large reward for Risto’s dead body and your live one. This means every free-lance mercenary in town will be on the hunt. The fact he’s willing to bring in outsiders indicates this is more than business as usual. Hate to say it, sweet cheeks, but Cruz is a tad bit psychotic about possessing you. And when crazy people do crazy things, innocents get hurt.”

Her breath hitched but she managed to stifle the moan threatening to erupt from her throat. “He’s hurting people to find me?” She gasped. “Tom and Rosa?”

“They’re fine. They’ve gone to visit Rosa’s cousins in the cartel. Paco is the head of Rosa’s family and understands loyalty to family and leaving innocents out of business whenever possible. Cruz wanting you is not business as far as Paco is concerned—and I got that straight from Tom who got it straight from Paco.” She let out the breath she’d been holding. “This makes it more dangerous for Risto?

With more people hunting for him?” He nodded, his mouth a thin grim line. “We have to go get him.”

“Not
we
, me and one of my men. I just wanted to let you know I’d be out of the house for a while.”

“But…”

Conn shook his head and chuckled. “Risto told me to tie you to the bed and not let you come after him if he was late—or if something happened. My job, and my only job, was to make sure you kept your sweet ass here.”

“But he didn’t need to go back to the hotel … the meeting with Evan and Chad was necessary, but the rest … he did for me. And I asked, begged him not to go.” She began to cry. “He’s out there risking his life for nothing.”

Conn stared. “What in the fuck did he go back to the Sofitel for if it wasn’t necessary? Did you leave something important in the room? Your passport? Money?

Jewelry?”

The man must think she was some sort of high-maintenance bitch. “God no, nothing like that. I made sure I had everything I needed when we left to eat at Tom’s place. Why didn’t he tell you?” she asked the question more of herself than him. Then she knew, Risto had been protecting her again—from humiliation. He didn’t want his friend and associate to know about the videotaping. Damn him, her feelings weren’t more important than his life.

Conn snorted. “I asked. The asshole told me it was none of my business.” But it was his business. Conn risked exposure of this operation if Cruz expanded his hunt to this area of town. Someone could’ve seen them arrive and sold them out just as Conn suggested.

“Cruz was videotaping me. He had the whole room wired.”

“Well, fuck the perverted son of a bitch.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and willed herself not to blush at Conn’s intense scrutiny. No time to get embarrassed. Risto could be in danger—they all could.

“Risto wanted to disconnect the cameras to keep Cruz focused on us so the others could get away.”

“That wasn’t the real reason. Cruz was always going to be focused on finding you.

The damn chivalrous idiot wanted to destroy any copies of the videos, didn’t he?” She nodded. Conn rubbed a hand over his face and swore some more. “Well, hell, I can understand his motivation, but the shithead could’ve told me—that’s more than a one-man job.”

She nodded. “I didn’t care about the video or who saw it. But he said he wanted to send a message about what would happen if any copies of the videos were released.”

“Sounds like him. Always the lone wolf, our Risto. Fucking Force Recon marines, think they’re bullet proof.” Conn stood. “I’ll take my second in command, Berto, and go after him, cover his ass.”

“I’m coming along.” She stood. “Just let me put on something dark so I blend in with the night better.” She had on a white T-shirt of Risto’s and a pair of his plaid boxers. She had few clothes and had used Conn’s laundry to wash her jeans. They were still in the dryer.

“I believe we’ve covered this ground already.” He towered over her in an attempt to intimidate, but she’d been raised around larger men than Conn and didn’t intimidate easily. And she’d hurt Conn if he tried to restrain her in any way. No man touched her that way, well, maybe Risto if he wanted to play, but not this man, not for real.

“I can help. I can shoot. I was taught to slink around in the shadows by the same men who trained Force Recon operatives. I’m pretty sure I can keep up with you and help keep watch outside the
casita
.”

“Babycakes, I don’t care if you’re the second coming of Rambo.” He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger. “You aren’t coming. Risto told you to stay put and he meant it.

Both our asses would be chewed to hell and back if we disobey that particular order.”

“But…”

“No buts.” Conn placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed. “Risto is fine. He’s been in far worse situations than this and lived to tell about it. He’s probably holed up evaluating his options. He’ll have more options with me and Berto to help. You’d be a distraction, divide his concentration. You don’t want to endanger him or us, right?” Damn the man knew just where to dig in the knife. Conn and Risto had done SSI missions here in Colombia together—they knew how each other thought and reacted.

She’d be an unknown in the field and they’d feel the need to protect her. Her shoulders sagged and Conn gave them a gentle squeeze as if he’d followed her every thought. “No, never, it’s just … he’s risking himself for me—for nothing.”

“Hell, I know that. And I plan to ream him a new asshole over that little thing. He damn well should’ve asked for back-up. Another reason you can’t go is we can’t take the chance someone might recognize you and let Cruz know. Risto wanted you safe—and safe you’ll stay.”

Shit, he was right, and she hated it. She hadn’t thought, just reacted. She needed to get her head in the game or they wouldn’t make it out of Colombia. She took a breath and nodded. “Fine, but call me when you’re clear. I’ll go nuts waiting.”

“As soon as we’re away from the hotel with Risto in tow, I’ll call the phone in this room.”

She hugged him. “Be safe.”
Bring Risto back to me.

After Conn left, she sat on the couch, her shaking knees no longer able to hold her.

Then she prayed as she’d never prayed in her life.

* * * *

Risto held perfectly still and listened to the two men in the other room. He’d dismantled the cameras in Callie’s former suite of rooms easily. The
casita
next door had been empty when he entered, but just as he started to dismantle the computer to remove the hard drives, he heard the thudding sound of feet and men’s laughing voices coming toward the room. He quickly put the computer back to the way he’d found it, including the USB back-up drive, and fled to one of the bedrooms off the main salon.

Cruz’s surveillance team was not only derelict in their duty, but also sloppy. They immediately sat down without clearing the rooms and shot the shit in crude Spanish about two women they’d just met in the bar. Their monitors remained dark. Risto could see the red flashing lights telling them their feed was dead or interrupted, but the bozos hadn’t seen the warning lights yet or just didn’t care. From what he could surmise, they’d taken a drink-and-tittie break together against orders.

Such disregard for duty told him they weren’t “real” soldiers but merely hired help, doing work for which Cruz’s battle-tough soldiers had no aptitude. They’d be easy to take out—and take them out he would, brutally. He didn’t care that they were geeks; he didn’t appreciate the way they spoke of Callie. The talkative twosome also commented on the fact Cruz was out for Risto’s blood and had instituted a city-wide manhunt for him and Callie. He’d expected as much and was glad Callie was safe at Conn’s.

Patience being a virtue and having saved his ass many a time, he waited to make his move on the men until after he was certain no one was coming to relieve them any time soon. He’d hate to get interrupted while taking their asses down.