Dangerous Liaisons (18 page)

Jesse and Cole got the camouflage pants off the guard and onto Cole. Perez’s suit coat followed. Despite the fact Cole would look out of place wearing only the coat, both men’s shirts were too blood soaked to do anything but attract insects and predators. The guard’s boots were too small, and Cole had to settle for Perez’s deck shoes.

Jesse retrieved the Glock’s clip from Perez’s pocket, verified it was fully loaded minus one round, and slid it home inside the handle. She gave Cole a once over. He still looked like hell.

“You going to be all right?”

“Never better,” he replied, and she thought he meant it. “What’s out there?”

“Two towers, one to the east,” she pointed to the left corner of the building near the door, “one to the west.” She pointed to the right corner. “Two guards are outside.”

“I bet each one of them has one of these.” He raised the CR-21.

“You got it.”

“We need a diversion.” Cole bent to grab the knife in Perez's hand.

Jesse tightened her grip on the Glock, then relaxed when he wiped the blade on Perez’s pant-leg and stuffed it in his waistband. He crossed to the guard who had accompanied them, bent, and searched his pockets. A jingle of metal, Cole’s fingers disappeared into a pocket, and reappeared with keys.

“Come on.” He straightened and started toward the door.

Jesse followed. Four paces and she bumped into him when he stopped in front of the second cell down from his. He had to try four keys before finding the right one. He handed her the CR-21. She stuffed the Glock in her waistband at the small of her back. Cole swung open the solid cell door, revealing a man about fifty years old huddled in the far corner. He looked as if he hadn’t bathed in years, his clothes were near tatters, and his hair and beard resembled something that had climbed out of the black lagoon.

“My God,” she whispered. “I’d forgotten about these poor souls.”

Cole stepped into the cell. “Vamanoos, amigo.”

The man stared up at him, eyes wide like a hunted animal. Cole extended a hand. The man stared for another instant, then something flickered in his eyes and he swung a hand into Cole’s. Cole pulled him to his feet. The old man stumbled, then caught himself, and stepped from the cell probably for the first time since he'd been imprisoned there.

“Keep him covered.” Cole gave the man a nudge down the hall, away from the front door. “We’ll herd them all to the far end, then we all make a break for it.”

“They don’t stand a chance. Perez’s men will mow them down.”

“Jess, they’re worse than dead if we leave them here.”

She scanned the remaining cells. They had solid doors with only a small window at the top. What crimes had these men committed to warrant such retribution? She shuddered. If Perez hadn’t brought her here, she might have left Cole to languish in this God forsaken hole. That would have been far worse than his fate in the village. For the first time in her life, she wanted to drop off the face of the earth.

Cole stopped at the next cell. He was trying the fourth key as Jesse cast a glance at the front door. “How long do you think they’ll stay out there?”

“I don’t know,” Cole replied as the fifth key clicked the lock open. He looked at her. “How did you get him to bring you here?”

Her pulse skipped a beat. “That’s a long story.”

Cole pulled a young man from the cell. He looked forty, but Jesse guessed him to be in his twenties. Cole nodded for him to join the other man down the hall toward the old man, and moved to the next cell.

“Are all the cells filled?” she asked.

He paused. “Good question.” He looked through the window into the cell. “This one’s empty.” Cole hurried to the next one and looked through the window. “This one, too.”

The next cell held a prisoner and, while Cole searched for the right key, Jesse herded the prisoners back while inspecting the remaining cells. Two cells down from Cole, she came face to face with a man who stared though the little window like a wide-eyed animal. She stumbled back a step, but kept going until she’d inspected the remaining five cells.

“Two more,” she said.

“Good,” Cole replied

Two minutes later, they had unlocked the last cell and five prisoners huddled against the far wall.

Jesse looked at Cole. “Now what?”

He hurried to the front door and grasped the handle, then motioned for Jesse to approach. She hurried past him, plastered herself against the left wall, and locked gazes with him.

He gave a short nod. “We open this door with guns blazing.”

She raised a brow. He grinned again, and she how he’d managed to escape being snagged by one of those A&M sorority girls. “I’m betting the guards got bored and are sitting in the jeep,” she said.

“Where’s the jeep?”

“About fifteen meters beyond the door. There could be more of them by now," she added. “Maybe even another jeep.”

Cole frowned. “What choice do we have?”

“I go out and see.” He started to protest, but Jesse cut in, “Perez expected me to kill you, then Lanton. He figured he’d get two for one. If you remember, he likes those kinds of deals.”

Cole’s jaw clenched.

“I’m supposed to be walking out of here,” she went on. “They won’t be surprised to see me open the door.”

“They’ll know something’s wrong when they don’t see Perez,” Cole insisted. “You three came in fifteen minutes ago.”

“Right.” She handed the CR-21 to Cole. “Which means we’re running out of time. That’ll give us a split second of surprise. It’s the best we’ve got.” She grabbed the hand still holding the door. “Let’s go.”

Grim lines around his mouth said he didn’t like it, but he released the doorknob. She cast a glance back at the prisoners. None of them had budged.

“How ready are they?”

Cole called in a whisper, “Amigos,” and added in quick Spanish, “we’re making a run for it. My friend and I will shoot as many guards as we can. Anyone who doesn’t want to take a chance on dying doesn’t have to go.”

Without hesitation, a hoarse murmur passed between the men and none moved.

Jesse looked back at Cole. “When I open the door, if no one jumps to attention, I’ll tell them there’s a problem with Perez. If they go for it, when they get near the building, shoot. If anything looks fishy, I’ll heave the door open and dive out of the way so you can start shooting. Ready?” she added before he could refuse.

He stood mute and she feared he would argue. He moved suddenly, startling her, and she found herself in his tight embrace. The powerful beat of his heart reverberated through her. He kissed her hard and released her so abruptly, she barely heard his, “Now I’m ready.”

Jesse her legs to steady as she stepped back and eased open the door. She stepped from the building and met the gaze of the big man who had captured her and Cole.

Obsidian Eyes.

Jesse reached for her gun as she leaped aside. Cole stepped into the doorway, his CR-21 firing on automatic in tandem with a scream of a demented poltergeist. She rolled, then sprang to her feet, the Glock level on the jeep. Obsidian Eyes lay unmoving on the ground. A dead man slumped across the steering wheel, and a third lay at the rear of the truck. The other was gone—behind the jeep, she guessed—along with the two Perez had left waiting. She sprinted for the side of the building. From her peripheral vision, she caught sight of the wide-eyed prisoner who had stared at her. He stood behind Cole.

“Cole!” she shouted, but he had already turned toward her.

Jesse fired two shots into the Jeep’s radiator and ducked behind the building. Gunfire spat from the west tower. Cole pointed his CR-21 at the tower and fired as he backed at a run toward her. The lone man in the tower stumbled forward, crashed through the wood railing, and plummeted to the asphalt. Shots whapped the cinderblock building beside her, and she dropped to a crouch, shielding her head from splintering concrete with her arms.

The gunfire abruptly shifted away from her, and Jesse nearly fell from her hiding place when she jerked aside to keep from being rammed by Cole as he rounded the building. She looked around the building again and glimpsed a short, dirty man lying on the asphalt, his body riddled by gunfire. Cole grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Let’s go!” he shouted, and dragged her alongside the building.

Jesse stumbled, then gained her feet. The jungle lay fifty meters ahead. Another scream split the air and Jesse realized the prisoners had decided now was a good time for a prison break.

“The east tower,” she panted.

Cole spun, facing the tower to the east, and open fired.

Twenty meters to go.

They zigzagged across the pavement. Shouts came from behind and bullets whizzed past. She pumped her legs faster. Cole pounded behind. Stones and shrapnel peppered her legs. The foliage shuttered and ripped with passing bullets. She and Cole lunged into the cover of the jungle. He faltered. Jesse jerked attention onto him, but he had regained his stride. A barrage of gunfire drowned out the men’s shouts as bullets ripped through the foliage around them. They dove into waist-high elephant ear.

Jesse tightened her grip on the Glock. “This way,” she hissed, and began crawling toward a large fig tree.

Cole crawled on his elbows alongside her, the CR-21 cradled in his arms. Branches snapped, and a man shouted for others to follow him. Tramping feet thrashed through ground cover. New gunfire broke out in the compound—American-made M16s. Jesse glanced at Cole. He held up a fist in a sign to halt. She dropped flat onto her stomach as he melted onto the ground beside her.

Leaves rustled up ahead and Jesse’s pulse jumped. An iguana shot from the bushes, racing away from them. She lowered her head onto her arm and willed her heart to slow. She startled when Cole dropped a heavy arm over her shoulders, but didn’t move.

A voice yelled, “Por aqui,” and their pursuers dodged left.

The thrashing of brush grew fainter and she turned her head and whispered, “Let’s go.” She started to push to her feet.

Cole didn’t move. She gave him a questioning look, then froze when he brushed hair from her face.

“You shouldn’t have come back for me. Too much of a risk.”

Warmth coiled inside her. Her pulse jumped into overdrive, and she mentally cursed. She was acting like a schoolgirl. “We’d better get going,” she croaked.

“Next time,” he said sternly, “
if
there’s a next time, don’t do it.”

She wanted to tear her gaze from his. Every team member knew you never left another behind. But that’s exactly what she had intended on doing—what she
had
done in Colombia.

“It’s done,” she said. “Nothing more to say.”

“One more thing. Thank you.” Cole ran a finger down her cheek.

She could get lost in those blue eyes. “No sweat. Now, if we don’t get out of here, neither of us will be any good to the other.”

His hand dropped away from her cheek and he pushed to his feet. Her heart jumped into her throat. Blood spotted the left leg of his fatigues.

Jesse squatted at a stream. She paused in ripping a strip of fabric from her shirttail to give Cole a hard look. He leaned against a gnarled banyan tree watching her impassively. His swollen eye looked worse than it had when they’d started out, and his nose hurt just to look at. The bruise on his jaw looked like faded clown paint.

“We should have tended this an hour ago,” she said through tight lips.

She ripped the strip from her shirt, then dunked the rag in the stream. The water felt like ice compared to her overheated body. Jesse leaned her head back and wrung the excess water over her neck. Water trickled between her breasts. The cool pleasurable sensation did nothing to stop the memory she was fighting to keep at bay: the memory of another time when stupid male pride had gotten a team member killed.

As team leader, she took his death personally…as had his wife and two young children. She and her team had been in the Philippines working recon on a terrorist group who had kidnapped two journalists. The team had run into scouts and got into a skirmish. A team member took a hit in the leg, just as Cole had, and didn’t say a word until they were picked up—by which time it was too late to save his life.

She didn’t intent to let that happen to Cole. He hadn’t wanted to stop, but she insisted. If he passed out from loss of blood or infection, she’d have a helluva time dragging him to civilization. She pictured herself hauling his two hundred and ten pounds over her shoulder, and grimaced. She was tough, but that would take a miracle.

Jesse looked up at him. “Take off your pants.”

He grinned. “Turnabout’s fair play.”

“We don’t want to tear those fatigues,” she replied matter-of-factly as she again dipped the rag in water and wrung it out.

He straightened, unbuttoned his pants with some difficulty given the splint they’d rigged on his broken fingers, and slipped out of them. Her gaze fixed on the muscled thighs. She’d glimpsed them when Perez’s man stripped him, but at only inches from her face, they took her breath. Her attention snagged on the blood caked inside his left calf.

“Dammit, Cole, you’ve bled like a stuck pig.” She gently wiped at the blood. “Force me to carry you through the jungle, and I’ll kick your ass.” If he died, she'd follow him to hell and kick his ass there.

“I’m telling you, Jess, it’s nothing.”

She paused in cleaning the wound and looked at him, brows arched. “Is that your professional opinion?”

“Yep.”

“You must have been some medic,” she muttered.

“Matter-of-fact, I was.”

Jesse gave him a deprecating look, then turned her attention back his leg and pressed gingerly around the wound. “I only see an entry wound.”

Cole grunted, then grew quiet as she continued cleaning away the blood. The jungle clamor of frogs and bats battling for the same food supply began to mingle with monkeys and the occasional bird squawk. The back of her hand brushed his other thigh, and heat flushed through her. Think of something else.
Anything
else. Like Amanda. Jesse’s stomach tightened. What did Amanda think about not seeing her for so long? Harris hadn’t mentioned anything, but Jesse knew he wouldn’t unless an emergency arose. When word of Perez’s death reached Lanton, he would wait to see if she was blamed for the murder. As long as he believed there was a chance she would be wanted for Perez’s murder, Amanda was safe—she hoped.

“How did you convince Perez you were going to kill me?”

The sound of Cole’s voice—and the question—startled her.

“Perez assumed I blamed you and Lanton for setting me up.” Not a lie, just not the whole truth. “He said he never had Maria.”

“What?”

Jesse met his gaze. “Perez claimed Senator Hamilton fabricated the kidnapping story.” Cole’s brows snapped down in disbelief. “Think about it,” Jesse said. “What better way to push the U.S. into action than to cause an international incident that puts our troops on Colombian soil? Once here, they could find and destroy the sub with little trouble.”

“The son-of-a-bitch had her and killed her,” Cole snarled.

Goosebumps zipped down Jesse’s arms. So being held captive by drug lords wasn’t the only thing that got this man riled. She refocused on the wound and began cleaning it again. “Perez said Lanton was supposed to meet him at the village.”

“Green Leader was supposed to meet Perez there?” Cole said. “There’s no chance that meeting could remain secret. Not to mention, he couldn’t be in Colombia and intercepted your call in the U.S.”

“True, but Perez said Lanton never intended to make the meeting.”

Cole shook his head. “I still can’t see why Green Leader would send his own team to die. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does when you understand how well Lanton positioned himself inside Perez’s organization, and how badly he wanted out.” She couldn't help a laugh. “Lanton did himself in by becoming too important to Perez. The only way out, was for Perez to be dead.”

“No easy task,” Cole commented.

Jesse nodded. “Every U.S. DEA agent and competing drug lord in South America wants Perez. He’s a damn ghost. Lanton didn’t stand a chance of taking down Perez on his own. So he sends in Green Team. If he gets lucky, Perez is killed in the crossfire. Either way, your team goes down and it looks like someone leaked the information. After that, Lanton sits back and waits for me to find Perez.”

“Just like he waited for me to find you,” Cole said.

Jesse nodded. “Then, if I didn’t take Perez down, you would.” She held her breath.

“It’s so…simple,” Cole murmured.

“Brilliant, when you think about it,” she said.

“But why tip Perez we were coming if Lanton wanted us to kill him?” Cole asked. “There’s a second mole.”

Jesse realized the thin polyester rag was smearing more blood than it was soaking up. “This damn thing is useless.”

She rose, went to the stream, and knelt beside it. “With Perez gone, Lanton has nothing to worry about.”

“There’s us,” Cole said.

She grunted a laugh. “What do you bet you’ll join me on the list of traitors?”

Jesse rinsed the rag, then returned to Cole and began cleaning the wound again. The wet rag broke free a large clot of blood. She inspected the open wound more closely. The bullet had furrowed out a row big enough to fit her pinky, but hadn’t lodged in the flesh. Relief flooded through her and she startled at the prick of tears.

She managed a level voice, “Looks like the bullet just grazed you.”

“Flesh wound,” he said. “I told you.”

Jesse shot him an impatient look. “It can still get infected.”

“I’ll live,” he said. “Once we get to civilization, a little penicillin will take care of me.”

“It’s going to make a hell of a scar.”

Cole abruptly grabbed her arm. “If we get cornered again, I want you to run. Getting Perez to bring you back was stupid.”

“Listen, Cole—”

He released her arm, seized her shoulders, and dragged her to within an inch of his face. “Do what I tell you.”

He was so close she could taste his breath. His lips so close, she could almost feel them on hers, soft and warm, powerful and tender. She leaned forward—

Leaves rustled to her right. Cole pushed off the tree, shoving her behind him, but halted when the brilliant red of a Scarlet Macaw’s feathers peeked between the foliage. The parrot pushed through the bushes, the bright yellow of its wings and deep blue of its tail coming into full view before it froze and stared at Jesse and Cole as if it had never seen a human. He probably hadn’t.

Cole looked at her. He looked as surprised as the parrot, and funnier with his pants off—though, that kind of funny she could live with.

“We’d better get going,” she said, and nodded toward his pants.

He grinned. “I’ve been caught with my pants down, but getting caught red handed by a red parrot is a first.”

Jesse turned her face away, afraid he’d read the picture in her mind’s eye of her kneeling in front on his lowered pants and giving him a first.