Hard Target (21 page)

"If he ingested it, can't you pump his stomach?" Dawna asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No, he's still unconscious and we don't induce vomiting with potassium overdose, anyway. Right now, we must wait to see if he's strong enough to fight this. I'm sorry I can't give you any better news."

Julie leaned forward. "Can I see him?"

"In a little while, I think."

After the doctor left, Tay watched Dawna sag in the chair beside Julie Legace, as pale as the ambassador's wife.

Someone poisoned Cabanelos, and someone had is now poisoned the ambassador. What was the connection between the two men?

Tay refused to speculate until they had more information. But still, another realization hit him hard. It could have been Dawna who was poisoned. If it hadn't been for that accident outside the police station, they might have returned to the embassy. And being the afternoon, Dawna might have chosen to drink a cup of tea. And that tea might have been tampered with.

She sat mutely, her forehead scrunched into a frown and her mouth a tight line. To the world, she looked angry, but Tay knew differently. Dawna was worried, frustrated, and, he knew, growing more determined by the second.

The ambassador meant a lot to her. This was more than a good working relationship. The respect ran both ways. Dennis Legace was a decent, intelligent diplomat whose trust didn't come easily. Dawna had his trust. Tay knew that. It was also returned.

Yeah. Dawna respected and trusted the ambassador. Hadn't he given her a chance to redeem herself when no one else would?

And now that man was near death.

The blow must be staggering for her.

Tay sighed, glancing around the busy waiting room, barely hearing the PA as it garbled out something. In the distance, a baby cried.

The embassy had been Dawna's chance to show her unit she could do a good job even when they didn't think so. This embassy was a difficult assignment, far more than a quiet, northern posting.

He looked over at her again. Her expression had changed. Defeat now marched as over her. He sagged inwardly. If her unit pulled her from this embassy, would she retire from her lifelong goal? Ambassador Legace had treated her without prejudice, when no one else had.

Not even you, Hastings
. He'd been attracted to Dawna's fantastic body, her beautiful, smooth features, her driven, passionate nature. And yet, he hadn't treated her fairly at all.

He stood abruptly. "I need some air. I'll be right back." Outside the well-lit main entrance, he inhaled the smells of the city around him. Though it had snowed in the mountains, down here Cochabamba enjoyed a near perfect climate. The winter's night felt practically balmy. In a small green space, a few short palms danced in the evening breeze.

He still wasn't treating Dawna fairly, Tay decided, by refusing to tell her why Martin might be following him. It probably had nothing to do with the embassy, but he should have trusted her enough to tell her the truth.

Despite that, he still couldn't tell her anything. Too many lives were at risk. He'd taken an oath to ensure the ultra-secret mission stayed ultra-secret. With drugs, despots and politics, the op was one of the CIA's most important assignments.

But, damn it, he would find out for sure what Martin wanted. The bumbling idiot would be easy to find. The guy was obviously not one of the finer operatives. Like any government agency, the CIA had its share of asses. He'd learned that fact at an early age, watching his father, a man who didn't know when to take off the uniform and be a human being again. Tay would find Martin and get the truth from him. He'd worked for the CIA. He knew all their tricks. Finding Martin should be a breeze.

An ambulance roared up to the front door, and Tay scooted out of its way. He scanned the narrow street, wondering if the traffic would ease as the evening wore on.

Something poked him in the lower back. "Stay still, Hastings," a scratchy voice growled at his neck. "Or you'll have a bullet in your spine."

Tay froze. "What do you want?"

"To take a walk. Let's go."

They started walking, the man so close behind him that Tay could smell his unwashed body. Once, as he threaded through the thinning pedestrians, he tried to catch a glimpse of the man.

"Keep looking forward."

"Where are we going?"

"Never mind."

The guy had an American accent. Tay glanced out the corner of his eye. Across the street was a long, dark section of mirrored glass. A neon sign lit the sidewalk above the pair announcing the name of the hospital and Tay caught a glimpse of the man.

Young, slim, brown hair.
Joseph Martin
.

Well, the guy was easy to find, at least.

"Dawna!"

Dawna looked up. Lucy trotted toward them, ducking around a gurney that cut in front of her in her haste to reach them.

Glancing around, Dawna searched for Tay, but decided he still must be outside. She frowned. The man didn't like hospitals, that was for sure, but hadn't he seen Lucy arrive? Wouldn't he follow her inside?

Lucy skidded to a stop, panting with agitation. "I just got word about the ambassador! What happened?"

Dawna glanced at Julie, who looked in no condition to explain his. "His heart," Dawna answered vaguely. "He had some kind of attack."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Dawna hit on a terrible thought. If Dennis Legace had been poisoned by her tea, then someone who had access to the embassy must have planted it there. One of sixteen on staff. That one could be Lucy.

"He had a heart attack?" Lucy looked appalled. "He's in such good shape. He's younger than I am!"

"We don't know what happened," Dawna pointed out. "He's in intensive care right now. We're waiting for Julie to be allowed in to see him."

Lucy looked at Julie. "I'm so sorry." She wrung her hands until they were a mottled red. Tears glistened in her eyes as she jerked her anxious stare around the waiting room. Was it the memory of losing her own husband, all those years ago, that made this visit so difficult for her?

Maybe not. After all, someone may have tampered with the tea. Someone inside the embassy, like Lucy, who might have wanted the ambassador or her dead. Dawna kept her face neutral. Was that what worried Lucy? That she might be next? Or caught in a murderous act?

"Take my seat, Lucy," Dawna suggested, standing up. "Would anyone like a drink? Maybe a Coke?"

John Legace nodded. Both Lucy and Julie shook their heads. Dawna scanned the room. A set of vending machines stood at the far end. When she returned, John and Julie were gone.

"Where are they?" she asked Lucy.

"The doctor said they could visit the ambassador for a few minutes."

Setting the Coke on a nearby table, she sat down beside Lucy. "It must be hard for you to be here."

Lucy snapped her head over. "Why do you say that?"

"You lost your husband, didn't you? Was it in a hospital? I think it would be scary to come in here and be reminded of it."

Lucy's expression softened. Tears filled her pale eyes again, and she fumbled with her tissue. "William died in a hospital, yes. But that wasn't why I was upset. The ambassador's a good man. He doesn't deserve this."

Dawna swallowed. Yes, the ambassador was a fine man. So why try to kill him? She slid her gaze over Lucy's tiny frame. Was Lucy faking this frightened reaction for Dawna's benefit? "How did your husband die?"

"Head injuries. He'd been in an accident."

When Lucy didn't elaborate, Dawna studied the older woman. She was genuinely upset. No one could fake fear and worry that much. This turn of events upset her a lot. Because she was afraid she'd be next?

Lucy turned to her. "Where were you, Dawna? Weren't you supposed to be at an autopsy?"

Dawna nodded. "We'd finished there." She didn't want to go into any details revealed at the post-mortem. Instead, she went silent and her mind wandered to the accident she and Tay had witnessed. Joseph Martin. Why on earth was he tailing Tay? Why couldn't Tay tell her what he knew? Was it related to the bombing? Was that the real reason he came here?

Or Ambassador Legace's illness?

Tay didn't think she deserved to know. Well, he was wrong. She stood up. "I'm going outside for a minute, Lucy. I'll be right back."

She threw open the front door and peered out.

Tay was nowhere in sight.

Tay straightened sharply when the gun rammed further into his kidneys. They'd turned a corner and had quickened their pace. Around another corner, Martin slowed. To their right, the block was lit was a three-story high family restaurant. Neon lights blinked on and off against the glass façade. Not what he expected in the city as old as Cochabamba. The restaurant's name was Dumbo, and its specialty appeared to be fast food and ice cream.

At the next corner, Martin pushed a down a narrow alley.

"Stop," the man said when they reached an SUV. Tay heard the locks release with a sharp click. "Get in, and slide over to the driver's side."

Tay wasn't anybody's fool. Without a good look at the guy and whatever weapons he carried, he wasn't about to turn around and tackle him. He did as he was told.

The man slid in beside him. "Drive," he said, shoving the keys at him.

"I don't have a license."

"Neither do I. Forgot to get it international one, but hey they gave me a truck anyway. Now drive."

"So how did you manage to do that?"

"I had the cash. Drive!"

Tay started the truck and after driving out of the alley, he merged into the traffic. "You know, this is a much nicer vehicle than that old pickup you smashed up," he said conversationally. "Is this stolen? I hear hot SUVs are getting shipped down here all the time."

"Shut up and drive."

When they reached an intersection, Tay checked his right mirror, allowing himself a full look at Martin.

He was young, almost fresh out of high school, with dark brown hair and an ordinary face that oddly rang a bell. But he hadn't been on assignment with him. Tay knew that for sure.

"Turn left."

Tay did as he was instructed, swerving to miss a small Datsun out in front of him. Several small cars honked in succession. Normal evening driving in this city. "Where are we going?"

"You don't need to know."

Well, wasn't he personable? The CIA needed to send their young fellows on sensitivity training. "I'll be missed at the hospital."

"So what are they going to do about it? Search the city? They won't find you, trust me."