Covert Pursuit (12 page)

Her heart shriveled. A sob clawed at the back of her throat. His words sounded so final. So cold. So…wrong. “Jason—”

He put a finger to her lips. “Shh.” Then slowly he bent until his lips replaced his finger. The kiss was achingly sweet. A kiss goodbye. A deep, gut-wrenching pain filled her. He didn’t love her enough to put his need for revenge aside. He didn’t love God enough to hold true to his faith.

He straightened and peeled her fingers from around his hand. A sob broke through as Jason walked out.

She closed her eyes and wept for him and for herself. And for what would never be.

Every step Jason took away from Angie was a struggle. He wanted to turn right back around and rush to her bedside. He still couldn’t believe she’d said she loved him. His shoulders sagged. He hadn’t told her of his feelings. That he loved her right back. It was better this way. Better not to bind ties together that would only hurt worse when they were severed.

As long as she knew what his intent was and didn’t know that he loved her, she’d be able to move on with her life. He could only hope he’d be able to move on with his once this business with Picard was finished.

As Angie’s hospital door closed softly behind him, he felt as if his heart had closed, as well.

Forcing his expression into neutral, he faced Angie’s worried family. They had embraced him into
their fold the moment they’d descended on the Loribel Island Hospital and had allowed him to take a turn visiting her, while they waited for her to awaken.

Mrs. Carlucci’s expectant face pleaded with him for good news. Angie took after her beautiful mother.

“She’s awake,” Jason said.

“Hallelujah,” Mr. Carlucci intoned. He was a big man with a hard-edged face that spoke of his years on the force.

Mrs. Carlucci rushed past Jason and entered the room. Her husband hurried after her.

Angie’s oldest brother, Anthony, stepped forward, his hand held out. He was tall, almost stately, with an intensity to him that fairly buzzed in the air. “Thank you for all you’ve done for my sister. We appreciate it.”

Jason tried not to wince. She’d been shot because of him. He hadn’t taken care of her like he’d vowed he would. He didn’t deserve her brother’s thanks. “I wish I’d done more.”

Anthony’s lips curved slightly in a semblance of a smile. “There’s no taming Angie. She’d have pursued the truth with or without you. I’m glad you were with her.”

Love and regret choked Jason. All he could do was nod. Anthony followed his parents into Angie’s room.

Jason stared at the remaining Carlucci. Joe’s battered face was a blatant reminder of how bad it could have been. Angie could have died and so could have Joe. Jason had put them both in harm’s way. Guilt and
remorse lay heavy on his shoulders, burdening him with the need to avenge their injuries.

Joe cocked one eyebrow. “So. Now what?”

Forcing Angie’s warnings from his head, Jason said, “I go after Picard and take him out.”

“Bring him in, you mean,” Joe said, his eyes hard.

Another idealistic Carlucci. “Yeah, right.”

Joe inclined his head. “And then?”

And then? Good question. He had only one option. “I go back under. There’s more of Picard’s ilk out there. Someone needs to bring them down.”

“Undercover isn’t the only way to bring down the bad guys.”

“It’s the only way I know.”

“Then you need to learn a new way.” Joe held out his hand. “Be careful. And stay in touch.”

Shaking his hand, Jason said, “I will.”

Joe started to walk away, but hesitated. He put his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “My sister could do worse than you.”

Rearing back, Jason blinked. “Excuse me?”

Removing his hand, Joe grinned. “I’m not an idiot. I saw the way you two looked at each other. The way you’ve hovered here rather than following Picard. You’ve got it bad, dude. What are you going to do about it?”

Surprised that Joe saw what Jason had tried so hard to hide, he said, “This from the man who’d warned me not to mess with his sister?”

“I said she wasn’t a fling kind of gal. If you’re not
interested in forever, then walk away and don’t look back. Because us Carluccis, we’re forever kind of people.”

Longing to have a forever kind of life arced through him. He quickly tamped it down. “I’ll remember that.”

“You do that.” Joe saluted and disappeared inside his sister’s room.

Jason’s mind reeled. His heart hammered. He did have it bad for Angie. But how could he even contemplate a future with her while Picard ran around loose out there?

He couldn’t. Resolve and determination shifted into place. He’d allowed emotion to derail his mission once. Wasn’t going to happen again. He couldn’t let his feelings for Angie detour him. Picard had to be his focus. After that? Well, he didn’t know and couldn’t guess.

Because if things went the way Jason hoped, Picard would die a painful and slow death.

And Angie wouldn’t want him anymore.

J
ason wiped away the sweat dripping down the back of his neck with a cloth. He’d been tracking Picard for nearly three months across Mexico and down into South America. Picard’s picture had been blasted through all government agencies in every country where the U.S. had intelligence officers. The search had led Jason here, to this jungle oasis where Picard supposedly was hiding out in a small village that was only accessible by foot.

It was midday and the humidity of the Costa Rican jungle was worse than that of Florida. Or it could just be that the oppressive atmosphere lay trapped close to the ground because the canopy of tall trees with their shiny smooth bark and lush, top-growing branches prevented not only the sun from shining through, but also the circulation of air.

In front of him a local Tico, as the native inhabitants of the South American country were called, led Jason through the lush rain forest toward the place where the gringo with the silver head lived.

Picard.

The very thought of the man burned a hole in Jason’s stomach.

The man was serious about hiding. But Jason was even more serious about finding him.

A loud bellow echoed through the tropical rain forest followed closely by ear-piercing screeches. Jason knew the second sound was that of the macaw parrots that dwelled within the lush foliage. But the first sound, the almost hoarse roar of some indigenous animal, sent chills cascading down his spine. He adjusted the rifle hanging over his shoulder into a position for easier access.

“What was that?” Jason asked his guide, Al, who seemed unperturbed by the noise.

Al grinned, flashing his yellow teeth. “Howler monkeys. They live up,” he said, pointing skyward to the green fauna overhead.

Jason’s gaze searched the intertwining branches, leaves and vines above for signs of animals. “Dangerous?”

Al shrugged. “Not unless you climb trees.”

Since he wasn’t planning to climb any trees, Jason relaxed. “How much farther?”

“Not far.”

For another twenty minutes, Jason concentrated on stepping around the vegetation growing out of the rich soil beneath his booted feet. He carried a knapsack with some supplies such as flares, a canteen and some protein bars. His lightweight, olive-colored cargo
pants pulled at his hips because of the weapons and ammunition filling the pockets. He was thankful the matching long-sleeved linen shirt absorbed the moisture from his skin as well as protected his arms from the limbs of the shrubbery and sapling trees that made up the dense forest.

Abruptly, Al held up a hand, halting Jason. In a soft voice, Al said, “Just beyond this grove is the village. I wait here for you.”

“Will there be guards?”

Al shook his head. “Not here in this direction. Very few know this way.” He held out his hand, obviously ready to be paid. Al’s confidence in his current employer’s ability to get back out of the village wasn’t as great as it was in getting them here.

Jason reached into one of his pockets and brought out a wad of colóns, the paper currency of Costa Rica. He handed some to Al. “If I don’t return by nightfall, then I’m not returning.”

Stuffing the money into his pockets, Al nodded and moved to sit beneath a tree.

Heart accelerating, Jason moved forward, working his way through the tangle of trees and shrubs. He bent down and pulled apart the pointy branches of a tall fern to see into a huge clearing, the village at its center. The many stumps poking out of the ground left no doubt the space had been man-made. The village consisted of several wooden huts positioned around a central common area with a fire pit in the middle. A long table and two roughly made benches were occupied by
five men and six women, all of various nationalities. They appeared to be eating a meal. But Picard wasn’t among of them.

Frustration churned in Jason’s stomach. Who were these people? What were they doing out in the middle of the jungle? The rough look of the group of men was just the type that Picard liked to employ. He needed to isolate one of Picard’s people and ascertain Picard’s whereabouts.

One of the women, a tall, willowy blonde wearing worn chinos and a loose-fitting blouse, left the table and walked toward the hut closest to where Jason hid. She disappeared into a door, which faced more toward the forest than the eating area.

Stealthily, he crept forward, darting behind the hut. He paused a moment, listening for signs he’d been spotted. He chanced looking around the edge of the hut. The people at the table still appeared oblivious to his presence. On a deep breath, he slipped around the rim of the round hut and into the open door then quickly crouched into the shadows.

A lantern hung from the ceiling giving off a muted glow. The blonde sat on a three-legged stool apparently ministering to a sick person lying on her side on a wooden framed bed.

Jason crept closer. The sick person turned out to be a woman, who moaned and grew restless on the bed. A thin sheet covered her body and her dark hair was plastered with sweat against her brow.

Surprised, he hesitated. Why was the obviously
feverish woman here in the middle of the jungle and not in a hospital? What was Picard up to that he’d keep this woman here to suffer? Jason didn’t want to scare the two into screaming, yet he needed answers.

A shout from outside drew the blonde woman’s attention. Jason retreated back into the shadows. He breathed out a sigh of relief when she disappeared out the door without detecting him.

Disregarding the danger of contracting some illness, Jason took advantage of the opportunity and quickly approached the sick woman. He clamped a hand over her mouth. Her dark green eyes widened and she struggled. Sweat darkened her brown hair and beaded on her face.

“Shh. I’m not going to hurt you. I need to find this man,” he said and held up the picture he’d been carrying with him for the past three months. It was a shot of Picard, dressed as Decker.

She blinked.

“Is this man here?” Jason asked.

She shook her head.

Not sure whether to believe her, he pressed, “Are you sure? If he’s not here, then where is he?”

She said something but it was muffled by his hand.

“I’ll remove my hand, but don’t scream. I don’t want to hurt you,” Jason said, knowing he’d never be able to follow through on the threat or keep her from alerting the men outside. Hopefully the threat would gain her compliance. “Promise?”

She nodded. He removed his hand.

“Why do you seek him?” she asked in a very Midwestern, American accent.

He hesitated. Was this Picard’s woman? Would she protect him at a cost to herself? Jason hoped not. “He’s a bad man who’s killed and wounded several people.”

“Are you the police?”

He decided to play this straight. “Yes.”

She seemed to consider that then said, “He went with my husband to the mine.”

“Mine? I don’t understand?”

“To the north about a half mile is an open-pit gold mine. This man, he owns it.”

Jason shouldn’t have been surprised Picard was involved in something so dangerous and illegal. Open-pit mining had been banned in Costa Rica for several years now. The very dangerous and destructive process of heap-leaching, with cyanide liquid being poured over the ore collected and bonding with the gold, which was then separated with another toxic chemical, had destroyed huge portions of land and contaminated water with its waste. Just another example why the man had to be taken down and destroyed.

“You’re American,” Jason stated. “How long have you been here?”

“Five years. Murphy hired our men to work the pit. There are several other villages like ours situated around the mine.”

So Picard was going by another name. Wiley of him. And he’d had this operation going while he was
also working other schemes. How very enterprising. “How do I get to the mine?”

“There’s a trailhead on the opposite side of camp.” She paused and squeezed her eyes tight. Pain etched lines in her pretty face.

“What are you sick with? Why aren’t you in a hospital?”

She breathed out and opened her eyes. “It’s just a bad bout of food poisoning. Charlotte’s a nurse.”

Good. Nothing contagious.

She reached to clutch his hand. “Go to the mine. You’ll find Murphy there. You better go before Charlotte returns.”

“Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” He removed several colóns and pressed them into her hands. “I hope you’ll find these useful.”

She gave him a wan smile. Jason felt bad leaving her to suffer.
Lord, please let this lady be all right.

He hurried to the door and peered out. He saw the woman Charlotte near the fire pit, heating a huge pot on a metal grate over dancing flames. These people liked things rustic. In a crouch, Jason darted out the door and back into the thick foliage for cover. He then worked his way around the village through the dense forest, keeping close to the tree trunks for cover. He contemplated going to get Al, but then decided he’d have a better chance of being undetected alone.

He found the trailhead and started up the path. As he neared what he figured to be the half-mile mark, he heard the sounds of machinery and voices.

Finding cover between the curving trunks of two huge trees, Jason watched for several moments, keeping alert for the silver-haired fox that had proved so elusive for so long.

A big, circular pit had been dug in the ground. Various large-scale pieces of equipment such as earthmoving wheel loaders, wheel graders and dump trucks sat around the opening like locusts. A tanker full of gasoline for the equipment was off to the side of the pit. A road had been swathed through the forest for access.

Layered ledges formed a stair-step pattern deep into the earth. He could only see a few men toiling in the tropical sun. The sick woman said there were other villages like hers hidden among the trees. Obviously, it was lunchtime for all the villages.

A flash of movement near the lip of the mine caught Jason’s attention.

A man stretched and pulled a wide-brimmed hat from his head revealing his silver hair. Picard.

Victory was so close Jason could taste it. Now he just had to figure out how to get to Picard.

He could just pick off the old weasel right now. The hate that had festered in his soul since he’d held his best friend while he died bubbled up, and Jason lifted the rifle and sighted down the barrel. Picard would be an easy target.

One shot. That’s all it would take to rid the world of this man. The rifle was equipped with a silencer. No one would be the wiser.

One shot.

His finger slid against the trigger.

Angie’s voice invaded his head.
Take Picard down the right way. The honest and true way. Let justice prevail.

Jason jerked back, his finger recoiling from the trigger. He shook his head, trying to dispel her words. But his mind refused to release the image of her beautiful eyes staring at him with such honesty and vulnerability as she told him she loved him.

Her words had been a shock. Even now, he had trouble believing she’d actually said she loved him.

But Picard deserved to die. Jason resighted.

Everyone deserves mercy.

He blew out a breath of frustration and anger. And repositioned his finger on the trigger.

You can’t be his judge and executioner. Your job is to apprehend him.

A shaky, ominous sensation battered at his heart.

Your honor and integrity come from God.

Was that true? If he pulled this trigger, would he be committing murder in the eyes of God? Could he live with himself? He searched his soul. “Lord, I feel so lost. I miss Garrett so much. I miss Angie,” he whispered.

He loved her. More than he’d thought possible. And his faith, a faith so firmly rooted he hadn’t even been aware how entrenched it was in him, wouldn’t let him kill for the sake of revenge. His faith wasn’t just talk. Deep inside he knew that God wanted him to do his job. The right way. With honor and integrity.

He shifted the rifle, sighted for the gas tanker and gently squeezed. The rifle kicked back as a bullet
pierced the metal. A stream of flammable fluid spilled on the ground. Jason sighted for the gas tank of the dump truck closer to Picard and squeezed, creating another flammable puddle.

Taking two flares from the knapsack, he lit them and heaved them into the gasoline pools.

Within moments the tank and the truck exploded, the noise rocking the countryside. Men screamed as debris rained down.

Picard dropped to the ground with his hands covering his head. Jason yanked a set of cuffs from one pocket then jumped down from his hiding spot and ran through the chaos, using the dirt cloud as cover, toward Picard.

When he reached him, Jason straddled the man, forced his hands down behind his back and snapped the cuffs in place.

“Hey!”

“Shut up!” Jason countered. Yanking him to his feet, Jason forced a shell-shocked Picard back toward the tree line.

Jason pushed Picard down to the ground behind a pair of curving trunks.

“Not you again!” Picard said, his expression unbelieving.

“Yeah, I’m like a bad penny. I keep showing up.”

Picard narrowed his gaze. “My men will kill you.”

“Your men are scrambling around trying to figure out what just happened.”

From another pocket, Jason retrieved his communication unit. Within minutes, he had his SAC on the
line and gave the coordinates of the open-pit gold mine operation, which would be passed on to the country’s authorities.

Jason also requested a covert extraction because he needed to get Picard out before the Costa Rican government arrived. If Jason couldn’t kill Picard, then Picard was at least going to do some hard jail time in an American prison.

“You did this alone?”

Jason shook his head. “No. I had God on my side.”

And the love of a beautiful woman.

“Here you go.” Sergeant O’Malley plopped a second stack of file folders onto the desk in front of Angie.

She stared at the pile and then turned her gaze to the older gentleman. “Thanks.”

He flashed a grin. “Gotta keep you busy.”